Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate

"Tsk, what a weakling," Gendry sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he watched Azrael vanish into the shadows. "Running like a coward—how disappointing." His broad frame stood silhouetted against the crumbling arches of the Lust Castle, his green eyes glinting with mockery.

"Shut up," Scarlett snapped, her voice sharp as a blade. She raised her hands, fingers tracing arcane symbols in the air. With a flick of her wrists, ice spears materialized—jagged, glinting shards that hurtled toward Gendry and his companions with lethal precision.

"Vine wall!" Gendry countered, his deep voice rumbling as he thrust out a hand. Thick, thorny vines erupted from the ground, twisting into a dense barrier that shattered the ice spears into glittering fragments. "Capture her!" he barked, his tone brimming with authority. The demon hunters under his sway surged forward, their weapons drawn, while demons—hulking figures with glowing eyes—joined the fray at the command of a towering viscount clad in dark armor.

Scarlett didn't hesitate. Muttering a swift incantation, she cast a speed buff on herself, her body humming with energy as she bolted through the castle's corridors. Her crimson cloak billowed behind her, her boots echoing on the stone floor. Spotting a tall, arched window ahead, she gritted her teeth and charged, crashing through the glass in a shower of shards. She tumbled into the open air beyond, the night wind whipping past her as she fell—until vast, leathery wings unfurled from her back. With a powerful beat, she soared into the crimson-streaked sky, leaving her pursuers gaping below.

"What's the holdup?" Gendry growled, shoving his way to the window. His underlings stood frozen, staring upward. "She's got wings?" he muttered, his jaw tightening in disbelief. Half-demons couldn't fly—no matter their bloodline's purity. Only one had ever defied that rule: Kodiac, the anomaly revered among demons. Gendry's envy flared, a bitter knot in his chest. "After her!" he roared. "I want her captured—I don't care how! I'll rip that secret from her myself!"

Scarlett ignored the chaos below, her focus shifting inward. "Time to take some interest," she murmured, her voice resonating with power as she activated her dragonification. This time, it wasn't partial—her body transformed fully. Her limbs elongated, scales of deep sapphire and silver rippling across her skin. Her arms became razor-sharp claws, her eyes narrowing to primordial slits that gleamed with ancient mystery. Two massive wings, larger and more regal than before, unfurled behind her, their span casting a shadow over the castle grounds. Her form was a breathtaking fusion of Drakonix and Leviathan—noble, awe-inspiring, and utterly commanding.

The demons and half-demons below faltered, an instinctive urge tugging at their bloodlines. Their knees buckled, their heads bowed involuntarily, as if in the presence of a being far superior—an apex predator among their kind. Scarlett felt it too: a resonance with Drakonix and Leviathan, ancient forces echoing from the demon realm to the mortal world. Through it, she sensed rifts—portals that could lead her back to the apocalypse world. But stronger still was another pull, a bond that thrummed in her core.

"Brother," she whispered, her voice soft yet resonant in her draconic form, her path now clear. Two other faint resonances flickered briefly—sharp, fleeting pulses she couldn't pinpoint before they vanished. Curiosity tugged at her, but the chaos below demanded her focus.

She drew a deep breath, her chest expanding, and unleashed her dragon's breath—a torrent of searing flames that roared toward the Lust Castle. The inferno consumed stone and timber alike, lighting the night in a blaze of orange and red. "Escape!" the viscount bellowed, his voice cutting through the panic as demons and hunters scrambled to flee the collapsing structure. A few weren't fast enough, their screams swallowed by the fire.

"Geez, she razed the whole damn castle," Gendry muttered, brushing ash from his armor. "She's dangerous—but that won't make us back off." A black thorn materialized in his hand, its surface pulsing with an ominous, creeping energy. It grew rapidly, stretching into a spear-sized weapon that radiated malice. "Perfect," he chuckled, hurling it at Scarlett with a confident flick of his wrist, certain her massive form was an unmissable target.

"Huh?" Gendry blinked, stunned as the thorn sailed wide, embedding itself harmlessly in the dirt. "Oh, Gendry, you really need to work on your aim—that was pitiful," the viscount taunted, his deep voice laced with amusement. A member of the Wrath Clan, his wings—bat-like and crimson—unfurled as he took flight. "I've always wanted to kill a dragon," he growled, his right arm glowing with a fiery red aura. "Being that big just gives me more places to hit." He rocketed toward Scarlett, his speed blinding, his fist cocked for a devastating blow.

But the punch never landed. With a flick of her tail—long, sinuous, and whip-fast—Scarlett sent the viscount crashing back into the castle rubble, a cloud of dust erupting around him. "How dare you!" he roared, scrambling to his feet, his pride stinging more than his body. Furious, he glared up at her, his face twisted in humiliation.

Scarlett inhaled again, this time channeling the Leviathan bloodline. A torrent of water burst from her maw, a surging wave that swept across the battlefield, dragging demons and half-demons off their feet in a churning flood. "Attack together!" Gendry shouted, his patience gone. His forces rallied, hurling spells, arrows, and spears at her in a desperate barrage. But Scarlett's scales shimmered, deflecting every strike with ease, her agility defying her size. "Somebody kill that bitch!" the viscount screamed, his voice cracking with rage, but no one could fulfill his command.

"Guess this is it," Scarlett rumbled, her draconic voice carrying over the chaos. Gendry and the viscount seethed, powerless as she flapped her wings, the gust knocking back those nearest. Her speed outmatched even the viscount's, and in moments, she was a dwindling silhouette against the crimson sky.

"Well, that felt like a failure," Gendry spat, kicking a charred stone. "Losing to one outsider—pathetic." He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on what he'd gained rather than what he'd lost.

Azrael paced beneath a gnarled tree, his boots scuffing the dirt as guilt gnawed at him. Leaving Scarlett behind felt like a betrayal, a stain on his honor. Coward, he cursed himself, clenching his fists. But he'd promised her—promised that if danger struck, he'd trust her invincibility and run. She'd revealed it to him once, and when he'd tested it, slashing at her only to see her heal instantly, he'd had no choice but to believe. Still, it didn't ease the ache in his chest.

"I hope she's alright," he muttered, his restless steps carving a rut in the earth. Part of him screamed to go back, to fight at her side, but reason held him in place. Then, a massive shadow eclipsed the red moon overhead, and he froze, his hand flying to his sword.

"A dragon?" he whispered, squinting up at the colossal form descending through the night. His grip tightened, expecting the demon god to have sent it—overkill for a thorn in their side like him. "Guess today's the day I slay a dragon," he said grimly, shifting into a fighting stance, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"Unless you want to make an enemy of me, I'd advise dropping that sword, young man," the dragon spoke, its voice deep yet familiar, stopping Azrael cold. "Scarlett? Is that you?" He lowered his blade, his guard slipping as recognition dawned.

"Of course it's me!" Scarlett retorted, her tone amused despite her towering form. "What did you think I meant by 'good bloodline'?" Her slitted eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Honestly? Thought it was just fancy lady talk," Azrael admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

"What exactly do you mean by that?" Scarlett pressed, her tone sharpening suspiciously. Azrael clamped his mouth shut, sensing a trap he wasn't about to stumble into.

"Anyway," she continued, "hop on my back. We need to get out of here before they catch up." Her sadness mirrored his own—the underground city was likely lost to demons now.

"Where are we going?" Azrael asked, his voice heavy as he climbed onto her scaled back, gripping tightly.

"Remember my brother?" Scarlett said. "I know where he is. We're meeting him now. Fair warning—be on your best behavior. Trust me, he bites." She lowered herself further, letting him settle, then warned, "Hold on tight!" With a mighty flap of her wings, she launched into the sky, soaring toward the wilderness where Kodiac awaited.

"Tsk, your favorite captain ran off with some new chick," Gendry taunted, pacing before the iron bars of Aquarius's cell. "So much for faith in him, huh, Commander?" His displeasure at Azrael's escape gnawed at him, souring his victory.

Aquarius, bound in mana-suppressing chains, smiled despite the bruises blooming across his weathered face. "I'm glad at least one escaped. He'll come back for revenge—I'm sure of it."

"Hah, as if," Gendry scoffed, rolling his eyes. "That optimism of yours is why you thought a ragtag bunch of half-demons could take on the demon god and his hordes."

"I always knew you'd betray us, Gendry," Aquarius said, his voice calm but edged with regret. "I ignored it, hoping you'd change. That's my only mistake."

"Betrayal?" Gendry exploded, grabbing Aquarius's shirt through the bars, his knuckles whitening. "You call this betrayal? I saved us from a fool's death! All we did was buzz around like mosquitoes—little stings until they swatted us flat. I gave us a chance to live free! Respect that, and don't you dare look down on me, old man!"

Aquarius couldn't fight back, his chained hands and feet useless. Gendry shoved him away, sending him sprawling to the cold stone floor. "My mistake was thinking you'd understand," Gendry growled. "Living too long's warped your head."

He stormed out, leaving Aquarius in the dark cell, his faith in Gendry's redemption snuffed out. The old commander's resolve, though, remained unbroken—he trusted Azrael would return, and that hope was enough.