For Sale. Fallen Lady. Never Used.

Chapter 301: Fiona’s Hidden Agenda (2)

Crack.

A brutal sound of something breaking and reassembling echoed from deep inside my body.

Though it had been trained, my fundamentally fragile human body began transforming, piece by piece.

My bones became sturdier, my muscles tougher. My heart, now integrated with the core, turned into a high-output mana engine, and the blood coursing from it was infused with dense mana.

The changes weren’t limited to the physical realm.

From the depths of my chest rose primal desires. It felt like the raw instincts from the first time I absorbed a fragment of a dragon’s heart had intensified.

Yet, paradoxically, my mind grew sharper. My awareness expanded as my consciousness began to swell.

I had already become attuned to mana, allowing me to exert absolute influence within my body, but now, this peculiar sensation extended beyond my physical form.

It was as if I could control all the mana in the surrounding area with my will alone—a sense of omnipotence.

What pulled me out of this euphoric haze was a piercing pain that surged across both sides of my forehead.

Crunch.

Something broke through my skull from the inside and sprouted outward.

Blood trickled down my temple and reached my lips. I licked it lightly before raising my head.

And then came the shock from those around me.

Now that I thought about it, Iona was the only one who had seen my dragonized form.

Solari’s golden eyes widened. Even I was slightly startled by my reflection in them.

The first thing I noticed was the pair of horns on my forehead.

They were black like obsidian, gleaming malevolently with pointed tips that exuded an intimidating aura.

However, their elegantly curved lines and distinct presence made them resemble a crown.

Next, my eyes caught my own gaze.

The violet hue remained unchanged, but the vertical, reptilian pupils carried a lethal intensity absent before.

To an ordinary person, meeting this gaze alone would be enough to paralyze them.

Was this what it meant to be a born predator?

Other subtle changes included scales forming slightly on my skin, my teeth and nails becoming sharper—but now wasn’t the time to admire these differences idly. ṙ

I turned to Havel, who stood there, mouth agape, and spoke curtly.

“What are you doing? Let’s get started.”

“...Alright.”

Havel nodded, seemingly aware that no more time could be given to Fiona, and adjusted his grip on his sword.

Feet shoulder-width apart. A sword aligned with his body’s centerline. Arms slowly lifting the blade.

A basic vertical slash stance with no trace of aura. Even a magician like me recognized it as rudimentary.

There was nothing special about it, yet it carried a peculiar sense of danger.

However, to my dragonized form, it appeared differently.

Havel’s aura hadn’t vanished; it had simply blended seamlessly with the surroundings, rendering it invisible.

And a sword, in the end, must strike to cut.

To be one with the world was to be capable of cutting the world. Only now did Havel’s earlier words begin to make sense.

If I, merely observing from the sidelines, felt this much, how must Fiona feel, staring directly at the blade?

“That...!”

She didn’t know exactly what it was, but it was clear she couldn’t let it happen.

Hurriedly, she summoned her newly gained authority, forming multiple spikes in the air.

The silent spikes she created shot out simultaneously—but Havel wasn’t fighting alone, unlike his opponent.

“Not so fast! Keep going without worry!”

Though honestly, it seemed like the God favored Fiona enough to go all in on her. The truth didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Fiona, flustered, had shown a weakness.

“!!!”

With Fiona’s final scream, Solari’s claw touched the shroud.

Screeeech!

The black currents tore apart with a harsh sound. Bubbling, shadow-like liquid seeped out from within.

Like the contents of a cracked egg, divine power that seemed to belong to the Boiling Silence spilled from within.

It appeared the plan to make Fiona an Apostle had failed, but ending things here would be a waste.

With a slightly dizzy head from overexerting my focus, I shouted.

“Now, Professor!”

“Got it, got it!”

While we all played our roles, Iona, who had been silent, finally spoke with a resounding voice.

“Pierce through!

Swish!

A crimson lance left a red streak in the air, piercing through the gap in the shroud.

Inside the collapsing black liquid of the shroud, a crimson-thorned flower bloomed.

“Cough...”

Amid the black liquid pooling on the ground, evaporating quickly even now, Fiona spat out blood.

With a sharp spear embedded in her heart and thorny vines tearing through her body, she looked like a criminal sentenced to execution.

Fiona, staring blankly at the mixture of spilled blood and the stagnant divine power that no longer boiled, lifted her head with effort.

She glared at me with a look full of hatred.

“Hah? If someone saw this, they might think I’m the bad guy.”

“You tried to sow discord between me and the one I serve, so to me, you’re a wretch deserving death.”

“What are you talking about? You hesitated and got confused because you felt guilty for a moment.”

It’s a simple fact: when a believer doubts their god, the connection weakens. Even if the god tries to help, the blessings won’t fully reach them.

Thanks to that, Fiona, already on the defensive, showed a decisive gap.

“Besides, aren’t you the expert at sowing discord? Why? Does it bother you when it happens to you?”

“...Still, as an empress, shouldn’t you refrain from such vulgar language?”

“Empress, my foot. Have you been in that position so long you’ve forgotten? You’re just a cultist now—and one about to die at that.”

Fiona, seemingly abandoning the pretense of being treated as an empress, shut her mouth tight. Still, there seemed to be one question lingering in her mind.

“If I’m just a cultist who deserves to die...why didn’t you kill me earlier?”

“That’s because it’s not my job to kill you.”

As I stepped aside, Carla moved forward to take my place.

Her eyes were calm, but her trembling hands and feet betrayed her barely suppressed excitement.

Receiving Carla’s intense, murderous gaze, Fiona seemed to understand everything at last.

Her voice came out in a dazed murmur.

“Don’t tell me...all this recklessness was over a single slave?”

“Partly that, and partly to take care of an Evil God’s Apostle. Two birds, one stone.”

I shrugged, but all I got in return were stares that suggested I wasn’t in my right mind.

Even among lunatics, being looked at as though I were unhinged felt unfair.

I’m innocent...!