Boundary Labyrinth and the Foreign Magician

"Grr!"

Groufonica's general suffers a hand injury. but healing magic flies in remotely faster than waiting to replace them with their peers, and the wounds heal. Wounds damaged by the sword of the spell, but because of the protection of the Goddess of the Moon and the High Spirit, the Black Spirit loses power and scatters.

Thankfully, I strip my fangs and laugh furiously, slashing and laying down the undead soldiers in front of me. I had the reassurance that Ashley's healing magic and the moon goddesses and spirits would keep an eye on me.

Built an ice defensive position on the deck of the Sirius, Ashley uses demonic props that carve life instruction. To fly healing magic toward the swing of life's response.

It is Auria who is helping to detect recovery. Send the spirits who served to all parts of the battlefield to tell them about the war. If the departure of the injured person is unlikely in time, we will notify him at the coordinates. Ashley flies remote healing magic toward a shaky life response. That's the way it works.

On the front line, Elliot can use healing magic while fighting, and King Fareed's sword can be treated as well. Rosetta is also discouraged on the deck of the airship, and wounded personnel will be treated immediately. This battlefield has brought together the highest healing magicians in all countries.

Such healers' withheld airships will naturally be targeted for attack - but they won't let them through. King Leandre leads the Griffon troops in an undisturbed move to storm, and instantly Hervorte crosses the battlefield slashing and tearing the undead apart.

Harpy and Seylan and their singing songs give the inferior generals the will and courage. Corliss, deformed like a spike ball made of crystals, wipes out enemy soldiers flocking to the dragons with the sword of the great bones Gashadokuro has in his hands, jumps around and ravages them.

Seven elders arrow the magic and release it early. Mildred, head of the Knights of Verdogal, fighting shoulder to shoulder, and Lazaro, knight of the mirror. Steven transferring and emitting shock waves.

Everyone and he are all waving their swords, unleashing magic, and exercising the alien powers that dwell in them to fight.

Undead soldiers who fill the earth, the sky, so much so that they may appear infinitely opposed. I'm so confused that I can't see ahead of the war, but the undead soldiers couldn't take advantage of the number of benefits because they couldn't easily get into Nepheli's technique - the realm of light.

Tearing the sky apart with a roar, a huge mass looms. It's a dragon zombie claw, wrapped in a red and black aura.

Grace is the relative. Exploding pitch-black struggle from all over his body, he intercepts his claws with an axe to be tapped in.

Ridiculous physical difference. The shaken axe and the claws that are shaken down clash. Only then did the heavy shock wave spread radially.

A moment of antagonism. Grace was stepping in to flush her body by body the next moment she intercepted her nails with an axe. It's a decision that a smaller stature would be more advantageous if it were inside the time frame. The decision is correct. Even if we can meet with momentary force through the pitch-black struggle, if we compare simple force, we will increase our armament to dragon zombies with boulder mass and muscle strength.

The tail of a dragon jumps like a whip. Aura unfolds like a blade as it is. Just because there is no such thing as "the inside of an intermission" cuts Grace's twin axes and shadows at such a speed that they don't fasten either.

Roar. Red and black aura reshapes into countless spheres. When it unfolded around the body in reaction to the dragon zombie's curse, a sphere lagging behind in response to an attack with its tail became a demon bullet, which was showered with rain.

Grace's pitch-black struggle swirls. Swallow and deactivate the demon bullet emitted by the Immortal Dragon into a vortex and cut it straight with the slaughter of the Tail Sword. A red and black blade looming at a rate that rips the space apart, and a double axe make a dull metal noise sound without a few degrees.

Cut up, spike. Suspension. A tail sword travels back and forth at a tremendous speed, each time scattering a spark of Grace's twin axes and spears.

They hang it down your throat and cut it off. Flush it backwards with an axe tilted diagonally. I tried to step in. There was a blow of horizontal giraffe waiting for me. The forearm of the immortal dragon - on his elbow, growing scales developed like sharp blades. It's the shape of an aura in it.

Take the blow of the horizontal giraffe, while at the same time flanking it without defying the force. Kick more shields and fly big diagonally upwards.

The shock echoed like bumping heavy things together. Huge fangs crossed and filled the space where Grace was on the verge. A dragon zombie attacked him with his jaw.

Claws and fangs, tails and pointed scales. And manipulating a demon bullet, a flowing attack that doesn't seem like a giant.

Though undead, they are highly combat skilled and judgmental. All Belmrex undead soldiers have high basic performance, but dragon zombies are unplanned. It also stands out compared to the parasite that is the command tower. Is it because the original primitive body is a dragon?

Still, I don't feel like cowering Grace. Because vampires are a mutant race born in the demonic world, or I feel the power to gush up indefinitely. Besides - Grace has been used to it for a long time. To fight enemies much bigger than yourself.

Living in the mountains after breaking up with my parents and being alone.

That winter. Theodore and his life for himself to eat.

Bears, pigs, and demons. I have survived by hunting for greater prey than myself.

Convert blood suction impulses. Sparkling light from the pitch-black struggle clashes directly from the front with the red immortal dragon.

Turn the blow of the tail sword and avoid knocking in the blow of the axe with a centrifugal force toward the chest.

Even if the body of an immortal dragon sways for a moment, scales like armor cannot be shattered. Chest and abdomen cannot be weaknesses for dragons who use the sky as a hunting ground.

The immortal dragon's wrapped red and black aura emits a tremendous fever, just like intercepting Grace, who jumped into his nostalgia. As you can see from the red scale, it was originally a fire dragon. After undead by spells and necromancy, it leaves its nature as a dragon and its factors in color. That's why the aura that wraps around it isn't black either, like the other immortals, it's a mix of red.

Block the heat that burns just by being nearby with a thinly unfolding pitch-black struggle. With the protection of the Spirit Kings, that alone can disable burning heat.

No retreat, be it a giant dragon or a scorching scorching heat. Stay on the spot and meet with a spraying pitch-black fighting spirit and a double axe. Cut it together.

If they hit, they bounce, if they bounce, they immediately step in and slap each other on the nails and axes. If the dragon zombie releases the aura he concentrates on his nails as a giant nail shot with a growl, Grace taps into the shockwave of his fighting temper with a grunting action.

Explosion. It's already moving in the next moment when we've fallen back on each other. Dragon zombies flying with their wings spread. Kick the shield and Grace jumps.

The dragon arcs to reward Grace for the attack.

Side by side. Reward the attack while crushing the impending ridge of the mountain. Fragments of shattering mountains. Grace took as many fragments as he could hold - the rock in his unmade hand, covered it with a pitch-black struggle, and threw it at the dragon zombie.

Black-purple sparkling light, whilst still turning it into a shell, scatters it into so fine dust that if the dragon takes it with his upper arm, it will not leave any shards by clashing with a strong scale.

Grace puts her foot on the ground for a moment and jumps as she crushes Snow Mountain. Fill each other up with pieces of mountain that come falling apart late and no worries.

The pitch-black struggle is a trait of vampires themselves. It is activated by being in the demonic realm, taking in excess power that can be clashed and bounced, and adding more power. In it - Grace realizes something from the power she has taken in - she perceives incredible signs.

Ability to be an activated vampire? Capture and enslave the other person's soul. That is tantamount to incorporating and understanding part of the other person into themselves.

Because it's released externally, it doesn't mix with Grace. But I sense it. The joy of battle and the rudeness.

There's no sign of disgust there. On numerous battlefields. In a world I've traveled with Theodore and the others. I can only tell because I've come into contact with various beings.

So Grace touches it consciously, cutting it together. Touch it.

It's - a fragment of the dragon's memory of his defeat to Belmrex and the thought of throwing himself and feeling himself into battle while he remains decayed.

Anger at being bound by a spell, killing as commanded, and being fought. The admiration for the relative Grace and the shallowness and shame in being such a seemingly but joyful fighter because he is such an opponent.

The soul of a dragon - dead because of its toughness - is imprisoned in the flesh. Embedded technology and lifelong destructive impulses and struggling instincts thrust and move the dead flesh. That is how the Flaming Empress, the Flaming Dragon, who ruled the corner of the border, became a soldier who carried out the slaughter with his whole body of spirits if he was commanded not to follow his will.

I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. Not to eat, not to protect myself. Those who beg for their lives, and those who seek refuge in their companions. Become soldiers who kill the little ones, and carry those who kill them. They will also be the soldiers of Belmrex.

Helplessness that can only look at the shallow deeds of such own vessels. Unforgivable humiliation and powerlessness to be deceived even after dying of pride as a dragon.

So - I'm so happy to see Grace and I tremble.

This is the guy with the drill. He is a powerful man who can defeat the existence of a dragon. There is no remorse there, even if you lose. Proud warrior. My daughter, who dwells in demons. Shatter my armor, slash and tear the heart of my cursed heart -!

I laugh with joy as I shed tears of blood. Grace did touch such a dragon's soul in battle.

"Yes...... Were you?"

That's a momentary event. Still, Grace's consciousness slipped slightly. Just a little delay in responding to the paws that wrap around the looming aura in front of me. I take it by crossing axes on the stag, but it plays big.

"Mama!

Raise your voice to tell your people you don't need to worry, and stay in the air. Intercept the immortal dragon coming in directly from the front. A huge amount of struggle pours into the axe, releasing a huge crossing of slaughter to bounce the dragon giant upside down. A blown dragon giant bursts into the slope of a snowy mountain and causes a collapse.

I know the reluctance to be powerless. Because as Theodore was, so was it for Grace.

She is - Flaming Dragon is already dead. Just because you're free from the Bermlex necromancy doesn't mean what's coming back. I'm not coming back, but I can't make it any better to leave it like this than I've touched it and I know it. So...

"Ahhh!

It entails an enormous amount of struggle with the temper of tearing and stepping in. An immortal dragon with a face from the slopes of a collapsed mountain growls and intercepts.

Grace and the Immortal Dragon strike each other as they create an avalanche and crush the mountain body. Every time I wave an axe. Every time I wave my nails or tail. The snow mountains crumble and the terrain crumbles.

Immortal soldiers close to the breadth are swept away only by the aftermath of each other's swinging blows. Fighting between isolated strong men, not allowing many to break in.

Grace and the dragon's body thrust through the back of the bumped mountain. He carves a crack in the mountain body and immediately flies through the air and clashes again, wondering if they both popped up after each summit collapsed in the aftermath of the clash. Swing each other's gains vertically and horizontally, bouncing, bouncing, penetrating, scratching.

A blow to mow the neck. Flashing through the torso. Multiply the shock waves of a clash by visibly staggering all the forces and moves you can have to end each other.

Develop. Develop little by little. He refines and enhances his struggle within himself, remembering the feeling of Theodore refining his circular magic. That's the same for dragons. Inside the battle, refine the excess power to see when it releases a vast amount of power.

Grace's fighting temper gets more and more sharpened in the fight. Eat properly and the earliest dragon scales won't help either. That's why I can't push the force. In the first place, if you try to turn it into a curse-bound dragon, there's no alarm or rush.

Slash the ax with a piece of skin, wrap the aura around it and beat it to pieces. Show Grace the structure of the chase, blown up in the hollow, but the chains that arced loudly and came around were entangled.

I'll leave it to you - I can't cut a thousand. Chains in which the pitch-black struggle is intensified cannot be easily cut a thousand times, even if they are dragons. As it was, it swung in Grace's hand. The dragon giant is slammed against the mountain again and crushes the ground.

From the rubble, on the contrary, the dragon's claw grabs the chain and now tries to wield Grace to power the other way around.

Grace is packing the time as she expected it to be. Chains manipulated by struggle deflect like creatures and do not let immortal dragons do as they wish.

It was almost simultaneous with the blow of the axe being slammed into the rubble and the dragon jumping straight up to sew a deflected commandment. Countless demon bullets blow up from the rubble due to time differences.

Follow the dragon unintentionally. The dragon's demon bullet does not penetrate Grace's defense of his fighting temper. That, should have been. One of them pierces the fight's defense and hits him in the shoulder from behind.

Claws. Dragon claws. He chopped off his own nails the moment he was tapped into the rubble and put them in the demon bullet. It is not profound because the power was also attenuated by the defense of the struggle. But Grace's movements rocked. At that moment.

A dazzling glow lingers in the dragon's mouth. A glow that can only be described as a glowing darkness.

this distance. We stopped moving in this position. It's a business that has burned down many powerful enemies. It's impossible to remove it.

It is even easy to call it the exhalation of the flames, the complete spirit of the fiery dragon of the demonic world and the fruit of the spell. It became a black flash that filled my vision and unleashed it.

A pillar of black flame that pierces the earth from heaven. In advance of the impending, Grace's fighting spirit remains unshakeable. An explosive pitch-black struggle flashes from its body. Immediately afterwards, a blow that swallows any good falls perpendicular to the earth. Snow dissolves and evaporates in an instant from frozen mountain skin, which melts and turns into magma. In that way, a huge explosion occurs that will cause the mountain to collapse with enormous force that pierces the ground and loses its way.

Through that blast - a grace pops around the black-purple spark. It enlarged the Axe of Divine Precious Iron, diagonally defied it, and developed a more refined fighting spirit around itself in a conical fashion to defend it.

Oh, still. The dragon's soul laughs at Grace's imminent appearance. The body of the dragon who unleashed the great moves does not move as he thinks.

But it's still not enough. Each other's refined powers have disappeared in earlier exchanges.

Then what about my daughter's attacker? No matter how good a weapon the axe exposed to prison flames was, it would have temporarily lost its strength when exposed to all that heat. Let go of the weapon and release the force as well. Isn't it still unreachable to destroy this body?

"Your pride and thoughts have certainly been received. So... I'll take you."

No, Grace's words. On my right hand, which I pulled heavily, I just grabbed the nail the dragon was supposed to have put in the demon bullet.

In that hand, the nails disappear to melt. When I understood that it was absorbed, the struggle released from Grace's right hand was swollen and degenerative.

Something shaped by the pitch-black fighting spirit. It was the dragon's arm itself. Undoubtedly, the dragon's claw is swept through. The blow resembles the move the dragon was waving in his lifetime...

The thick scales, the tough muscles, the bones.

As she wishes, she rips the heart out of the flaming dragon that was trapped by the spell. The spell that ruled the limbs loses its potency, and something like a black jaw scatters from the dragon's body.

A dragon giant falling to the ground. Those moments, Grace's red eyes and Flaming Dragon's gaze fit.

Flaming dragons laugh at their will. Grace also smiled a little lonely.

- That's right. That's fine. If it's with you, it's not bad.

That's how the Flaming Dragon closes its eyes. Consciousness falls into darkness, but there is no fear. However, I had a delightful battle with the good enemies I met at the end. And I was more than proud that they had something to leave behind.