After Becoming an Evil Dragon, I Was Entangled by the Saintess - Chapter 21

A dozen tall, muscular guards surrounded a Fourth-Tier Mage, making it clear they were not to be trifled with.

“That mage alone could take down ten of us, right?” Flah said, her twin blades already drawn as she warily eyed the approaching guards. Fortunately, the arrogant mage treated them as insignificant pests, leaving the guards to handle them. Of course, these guards were no pushovers either; their leader was a Third-Tier Professional, exerting a mountain-like pressure on Flah.

“Capture the Elf alive,” the mage rasped, his voice like rough stones grinding together. His eyes, hidden beneath a black cloak, gleamed with avarice as he issued the order.

“Pah, you ¥*%!” Flah spat out a string of curses. Her curved blades danced in her hands, as lithe as serpents and as swift as lightning, aiming straight for the guard’s heart. As another guard’s longsword swept toward her, she parried with her left-hand blade, pivoting nimbly to evade the sweeping strike.

“Be careful!” Ilti cried, her eyes fixed anxiously on Flah as she gripped her staff tightly and began casting a spell. A Second-Tier Fireball hurtled toward the guard’s face, while the Fourth-Tier Mage beside him smirked contemptuously and began chanting his own spell. His eyes flickered with predatory amusement, like a cat toying with a mouse.

“Veranse,” Yulxi frowned, turning to look at the composed Veranse.

Veranse flashed Yulxi a pure smile, then retrieved a vial of potion and shattered it. The potion was brewed from Whisperwood Tree Flowers, rare anti-magic treasures specifically used against mages. Whisperwood Tree Flowers wither quickly upon exposure to light, but when refined into a potion, their magic-suppressing properties can persist for a time. Of course, the potion has a drawback: it suppresses magic indiscriminately, affecting both allies and enemies.

The Fourth-Tier Mage’s expression twisted the moment he realized his Magic Power had been sealed. He glared at Veranse, his gray eyes radiating a chilling light. He tightened his cloak and retreated silently. He could see that among those accompanying the Elf, two were mages. With their Magic Power suppressed, they were rendered helpless. Meanwhile, his own guards were all Warriors—dealing with powerless mages would be child’s play.

Ilti’s face also paled with fear, the deafening clang of metal echoing in her ears, leaving them ringing. It wasn’t until Veranse’s sweet voice cut through the din: “Ilti, come behind me.”

Ilti: “?”

Veranse now wielded a longsword, moving through the crowd with the lithe grace of a cat. The blade left shimmering, moonlit ripples in its wake, each strike accompanied by a spray of bl00d. The elusive sword pierced the guards’ hearts with effortless precision.

Ilti stared, mouth agape, as Veranse effortlessly killed. “She—she—”

“Isn’t she a mage?”

Yulxi replied calmly, “She’s both a mage and a swordsman.” The guards’ leader was a Third-Tier Professional, as was Veranse. With her willingness to fight, the guards posed little threat. Yulxi’s gaze locked onto the mage standing nearby. Clearly caught off guard, he retreated with a frown. While mages excel in spellcasting, their physical prowess pales in comparison to Warriors. Once stripped of their protective escort and forced into close combat, even high-level mages are doomed.

Campfires crackled in the manor courtyard, the firewood burning with soft, popping sounds.

Yulxi surged forward with explosive speed, her sword unleashing devastating power. Her eyebrows arched, the muscles in her arms tensing beneath her robes as she unleashed a torrent of force. The guards, realizing Yulxi was charging toward the mage, immediately shifted formation to intercept her.

The pressure on Flah suddenly eased, but she had no time to thank Yulxi. Her mind remained taut as she channeled the most honed skills of her life to confront the guards, who stood before her like a wall of flesh.

Swords clashed, emitting a piercing clang. A repulsive face loomed before Yulxi—tattooed and bald, its teeth bared as if about to speak. Yulxi frowned and kicked the man to the ground without hesitation.

The fierce combat made the mage’s heart pound as if gripped by an invisible hand. The expected one-sided slaughter never materialized. The formidable guards who had marched relentlessly for days now collapsed like limp mice, scattered across the battlefield. Could they be exhausted from the relentless travel? The mage’s thoughts drifted, his mind growing strangely exhilarated as he retreated.

A moment later, he smiled.

The night wind turned savage.

The Magic-Suppressing Potion’s effects had finally worn off. His Magic Power surged back.

Gazing at Yulxi, who had closed the distance, the mage grinned maliciously.

He raised his staff and began chanting, Magic Power coalescing around him like a gale whipping his cloak. He unleashed a blast of corrosive acid. If she dodges, he thought gleefully, which direction should I block to ensure she dies in utter despair?

But Yulxi didn’t flinch or dodge.

The mage’s heart pounded in his chest.

He jerked his head up, meeting a pair of golden, vertical pupils.

That wasn’t a human gaze. That was—that was—

A dragon’s eyes!

The Black Dragon’s primary weapon was corrosive acid, and they were naturally immune to this element. Even without any protection, Yulxi could emerge unscathed from the acidic deluge.

The longsword whipped up a storm as it hurtled toward the stunned mage. Only the sudden intervention of a guard, who charged forward to protect him, saved the mage from certain death.

The mage retreated hastily, his nerves frayed. His Third-Tier Professional status was insufficient to confront a fully grown Great Dragon, yet it had allowed him to survive countless calamities. His mind raced, but Yulxi’s sword struck down like a thunderbolt. The mage unleashed a barrage of magical attacks, but none had any effect. His expression darkened.

His eyes turned grim as he raised his left hand to touch the emblem hanging at his chest, muttering an arcane incantation. A murky, gray shadow abruptly materialized before him, accompanied by an indistinct, whispered incantation.

Yulxi raised an eyebrow.

The guards protecting the mage suddenly changed their expressions. Just moments before, they had been defending him with their lives, but in an instant, they scattered in disarray. Even the guards fighting Flah and Ilti abandoned their posts, desperately trying to breach the wall of fire and escape the courtyard. But they never made it. The flames vanished abruptly, as if all light had been drained away in an instant. Those plunged into darkness were filled only with numbness and despair.

This was the magic Veranse had left behind earlier—the Veil of Despair.

“What was that?” Ilti’s voice trembled with fear.

Veranse didn’t even glance in Yulxi’s direction. Sword in hand, she strode toward the surviving guards huddled against the wall, a light, spring-like smile playing on her lips. With a wave of her hand, the Sword of Holy Judgment materialized above the guards’ heads. Her voice, like a whisper carried on a violet-scented breeze, declared, “By the judgment of holy light, you are all guilty.” The Sword of Judgment descended, draining the guards’ life force in an instant. Before anyone could notice the anomaly, their bodies crumbled into ash.

Throughout this process, only Yulxi glanced back at Veranse, her expression unreadable.