Chapter 254: Full Manifestation

On the other hand....

Adam’s aura shifted.

The pressure that radiated from him was not the explosive surge of [Draconic Roar], nor the focused intensity of [Monarch’s Pierce]. It was the weight of a presence that had crawled from the darkest depths of a dungeon and clawed its way to the surface.

[Abyssal Majesty].

The air around Adam grew heavy. Shadows that had been fleeing from Caelum’s golden light stopped, pooled, deepened. Soldiers who had been pressing forward with renewed confidence faltered. Their steps slowed. Their weapons trembled in their grips. Some dropped to their knees, their faces pale, their eyes wide with a terror they couldn’t name.

Caelum’s golden eyes narrowed. His grip on the Lance of Pride tightened.

"That won’t work on my men." His voice was cold, dismissive. "Their loyalty is absolute. Your fear tactics are useless."

Adam’s lips curved into a thin, sharp smile.

"No harm in trying."

Caelum’s expression hardened. He lunged.

The Lance of Pride swept toward Adam’s throat in a dazzling arc, golden light trailing behind it like a comet’s tail. Adam ducked, the blade passing close enough to ruffle his hair. Caelum spun, the spear’s butt slamming toward Adam’s ribs—Adam twisted, the blow glancing off his scales.

Caelum pressed forward. His spear became a blur of gold and shadow, each strike faster than the last, each thrust aimed at a vital point. Adam dodged, weaved, his body moving with serpentine grace, but Caelum’s assault was relentless.

"You can’t run forever!" Caelum’s voice rang out, sharp with frustration.

Adam’s eyes narrowed. ’He’s fast. Too fast to dodge indefinitely.’

He planted his feet.

[Monarch’s Pierce].

His fist shot forward, dark energy coiling around his knuckles. The air cracked. The strike was aimed at Caelum’s chest—a blow that had shattered stone, that had caved in the ribs of wyvern lords.

Caelum’s eyes widened. His spear swept up.

[Golden Sovereignty].

A barrier of light snapped into place before him, shimmering like liquid gold. Adam’s fist struck it, and the barrier cracked—spiderwebs of darkness spreading across its surface but held.

Caelum’s lips curled into a victorious smile.

But Adam was already moving.

[Abyssal Pierce].

His other hand shot forward, void energy gathering in his palm. The barrier, already weakened, shattered. The strike caught Caelum in the shoulder, tearing through armor, through flesh.

Caelum gasped. Blood sprayed. He stumbled back, his hand flying to the wound.

"You—!"

Adam pressed forward. His fists, wreathed in dark energy, hammered against Caelum’s guard. The prince retreated, his spear deflecting what it could, but Adam was relentless, each strike faster than the last.

Caelum’s golden eyes blazed.

He spun, his spear sweeping in a wide arc that forced Adam back. The prince raised his free hand, golden light gathering in his palm.

"[Imperial Lion’s Judgment]!"

The shockwave exploded from his palm, slamming into Adam’s chest. Adam flew backward, crashing into a pile of rubble, stones scattering.

He pushed himself up, blood trickling from his lip.

’He’s still strong. Even wounded.’

His gaze swept past Caelum, toward the soldiers who still stood at the edges of the street. Their postures had shifted. The golden light that had suffused them, that had made them extensions of Caelum’s will, was flickering. Doubt had crept into their eyes.

Adam’s lips curved.

’If I can’t beat him directly... I’ll break his support.’

He lunged at the soldiers.

Caelum’s eyes widened.

"NO—!"

The first wave of soldiers charged, their golden auras blazing with borrowed confidence. Swords raised, spears leveled, they surged toward Adam with a battle cry that echoed off the shattered buildings.

"For the Prince! For Solaria!"

Adam met them head-on.

His claws tore through the first soldier’s armor, through flesh, through bone. The man’s cry cut off mid-shout, his body crumpling to the blood-slicked stone. His golden aura guttered out like a candle in a storm.

"Gavin!" a soldier screamed, his face twisting with horror. "You BASTARD—!"

He lunged, his sword aimed at Adam’s throat. Adam caught the blade with his bare hand, crushed it, and drove his fist through the man’s chest.

Another fell. Then another.

"Stop!" Caelum’s voice cracked with fury. "Face me, coward!"

"Fall back!" someone shouted. "We need to regroup!"

"Don’t run, you cowards! Hold the line!"

"NOTHING WE DO—"

Adam’s tail lashed out, sending three soldiers flying. They crashed into a wall, their bodies crumpling, their golden auras flickering and dying.

"By the gods..." a veteran whispered, his sword hanging limp at his side. "We can’t... we can’t win this..."

"Shut up!" a lieutenant grabbed his collar, shaking him. "The Prince is watching! We fight for him!"

The veteran’s eyes, wide with terror, met the lieutenant’s. "Then we die for nothing."

The lieutenant’s grip loosened. His gaze drifted to the carnage around them—the bodies, the blood, the monster that moved among them like a scythe through wheat.

Caelum’s aura flickered.

[Legion of Arrogance: Follower Count – 147 → 132 → 115 → 98]

Caelum’s golden eyes blazed. He could feel it—the weakening of his connection to his men. Their faith, once absolute, was cracking under the weight of Adam’s assault.

"Hold fast!" Caelum’s voice rang out, sharp with command. "Do not let him break your spirit! Remember your—"

A soldier screamed.

Adam had him by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The man’s legs kicked uselessly, his hands clawing at Adam’s scaled forearm. His golden aura flared then died as Adam’s claws closed.

Adam’s internal voice was cold, calculating.

’Their faith in him is breaking. Without their belief, his power crumbles.’

A soldier lunged at him, sword raised. Adam caught the blade with his bare hand, crushed it, and drove his fist through the man’s chest.

He turned, his crimson eyes fixed on Caelum.

"Your army is dying, prince." His voice was calm, almost conversational. "And without them... you’re just a man with a fancy spear."

Caelum’s golden eyes blazed with fury.

"You... BASTARD! How dare you... underestimate me!"

His aura surged, golden light erupting from his body in a blazing corona. The soldiers who were still standing, staggered back while covering their eyes.

"[Monarch’s Judgment]!"

The light exploded outward in all directions. A wave of pure, searing radiance swept through the street, consuming everything in its path. The cobblestones cracked. The buildings crumbled. The bodies of fallen soldiers, both his own and the assassins’, turned to ash where they lay.

Adam’s eyes widened. He leaped, his wings snapping open, carrying him upward, trying to escape the expanding sphere of destruction.

Caelum’s lips curled into a cold, Victorius smile.

"Too slow."

His arm snapped forward. The Lance of Pride, blazing with all the light he had left, shot from his hand like a comet.

Adam twisted in mid-air, trying to dodge, but the spear was too fast. It struck him square in the chest, punching through his scales, through his flesh, through his ribs. The force of the impact carried him backward, and he crashed into the wall of a crumbling building.

The spear pinned him there.

Adam gasped, blood bubbling from his lips. The lance blazed, golden light searing his insides, burning away his strength. He reached up, his fingers closing around the shaft, trying to pull it free.

But his arms wouldn’t obey. The light was too strong, the pain too intense.

Caelum strode toward him, his chest heaving, his golden eyes blazing with exhausted satisfaction. His armor was cracked, scorched, falling apart. But his voice, when it came, was steady.

"All my remaining power... is in that spear."

He raised his hand, and golden light gathered in his palm, condensing into a sphere that pulsed with barely contained devastation.

"Let’s see if you can survive this."

He thrust his hand forward.

"[Sunset of Sovereignty]!"

The sphere shot toward Adam’s chest.

Adam’s crimson eyes widened. His arms, still weak, crossed before his face.

[Monarch’s Aegis].

The barrier snapped into place, shimmering with defensive energy. The sphere struck it, and for a moment, they held—the light pressing against the shield, the shield straining against the light.

Then the Aegis cracked.

Shattered.

The golden light engulfed Adam, consuming him.

The explosion was massive, a pillar of radiance that rose into the sky, visible from every corner of Kaelthar. The building behind Adam crumbled. The street beneath him cracked. The heat was immense, searing, turning stone to glass.

Caelum stumbled back, his chest heaving, his arms trembling. His armor, already cracked, began to fall away in pieces. He caught himself against a fallen pillar, gasping for breath.

Smoke and dust filled the air, thick and choking. The rain, what little still fell, hissed as it touched the superheated ground.

Caelum’s golden eyes scanned the devastation.

’It’s over. He’s dead.’

His shoulders sagged. His grip on his remaining strength loosened.

Then the dust shifted.

A shadow moved within the smoke.

Caelum’s eyes widened. ’Impossible...’

Adam stepped out of the haze.

His body was a ruin. Scales were cracked, blackened, peeling away. Flesh hung in tatters, exposing bone beneath. His left arm, the one he had raised to block, was gone—vaporized by the blast. His wings were shredded, useless. Blood poured from a dozen wounds, steaming where it touched the hot stone.

But his eyes were still crimson.

And he was still standing.

Caelum’s voice came out strangled, barely a whisper.

"How... how do you still have the strength to regenerate?"

Adam’s lips, cracked and bleeding, curved into a thin, bloody smile. His voice was rough, but steady.

"You do not need to know."

He took a step forward. His leg nearly buckled, but he caught himself, forced himself upright.

Caelum stared at him, his golden eyes wide with disbelief.

’He should be dead, so why is he still alive?!’

But the monster kept walking.

Caelum’s hands trembled. His legs, already exhausted, threatened to give way. The golden light that had suffused him, that had made him the center of his army’s faith, was gone.

’He’s...a monster’

He took a step back.

Then another.

’I can’t win. I can’t...’

The Lance of Pride, still embedded in the wall, began to flicker. Its golden light, once so bright, so certain, dimmed. Caelum felt it—the weapon’s confidence wavering, its power ebbing, mirroring his own.

He reached for it, his fingers brushing the shaft.

"No." His voice was hoarse, barely audible. "I am the First Prince of Solaria. I do not... I cannot..."

But the words wouldn’t come. The certainty wouldn’t come.

He closed his eyes.

Then the world turned white.

Ice erupted from the ground, spreading outward in a wave that swallowed the street, swallowing the buildings, swallowing the bodies of the fallen. The temperature plummeted. The rain, what little still fell, turned to sleet, then to snow.

Adam’s eyes widened. His regeneration, already struggling, slowed further as the cold seeped into his wounds.

Caelum’s head snapped toward the source.

Alisthar Croft.

The merchant was no longer human. His form had expanded, twisted, grown. Scales covered every inch of his body, pale blue and glistening with frost. His jaw had elongated, filled with fangs. His hands were claws, his feet talons, and from his back, wings had sprouted—massive, leathery, shimmering with ice.

[Dragon Transformation: Full Manifestation].

Croft had surrendered the last of his humanity, embraced the cold, and become the dragon itself.

His pale reptilian eyes swept the battlefield, taking in the destruction, the bodies, the fleeing soldiers. His voice, when it came, was a rumble, resonant with icy authority.

"ROOOOOAAARRR!"

The roar shook the city. Windows shattered. Walls cracked. The ground trembled.

Caelum stared, his golden eyes wide.

"The city... is finished."

Croft’s massive head turned toward him, and those pale eyes, fixed on the prince.

He raised a clawed hand, frost gathering around his palm.

Caelum’s soldiers, those who were still standing, those who hadn’t fled, rushed forward. They grabbed the prince, pulling him back, dragging him away from the advancing dragon.

"Your Highness, we need to retreat!"

"We can’t fight that thing!"

Caelum didn’t resist. His golden eyes, once so bright with pride, were hollow. His voice was barely a whisper.

"Retreat."

The soldiers carried him away, disappearing into the smoke and dust.

Adam watched them go, his crimson eyes narrowing.

’Coward.’

But there was no time to dwell on Caelum’s flight. Croft’s ice was spreading, creeping toward him, freezing the blood that still pooled at his feet.

Adam forced himself to move. His body screamed in protest—broken ribs, torn muscles, missing arm but he dragged himself behind a fallen wall, pressing his back against the cold stone.

His regeneration was still working, but slowly. Too slowly. The cold was slowing it further, the frost seeping into his wounds, crystallizing his blood.

’If I stay here, I’ll freeze to death.’

He looked up, watching Croft’s massive form rampage through the city. The dragon’s ice consumed everything it touched—buildings, streets, people. Nothing was spared.

Adam’s expression tightened.

’He’s lost control. The dragon power is consuming him.’

Croft’s roar echoed through the streets, and Adam knew, Kaelthar was dying.