Novel's Extra: The Lost Heir of Dragon Queen-Chapter 69: When a Storm Breaks: A New Awakened

"What…?" Tharion muttered, his brows furrowing in surprise.

Standing before Kael was a figure cloaked in dark combat armor, his imposing frame radiating unshakable confidence.

Long silver hair fluttered in the breeze, catching the faint moonlight.

A smirk tugged at the edge of his lips, as if this entire situation was nothing more than a joke.

"Yo, kid,"

He pushed Tharion’s blade back effortlessly, twirling his own sword once before planting it into the ground with a smirk.

"What the hell happened to you? Lying here like a beaten dog? Where’s that arrogance you always carry around, huh?"

Kael blinked, his mind barely processing what he was seeing.

’Zarenth… He’s here…’

Tharion narrowed his eyes, his tone darkening.

"You—who are you?" Tharion asked.

Zarenth ignored him completely, crouching down near Kael.

He grinned, his piercing crimson red eyes locking onto Kael’s battered form.

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"Tsk, tsk. You really went all out, didn’t you? This is embarrassing, kid. You’re gonna let them write this on your tombstone? ’Here lies Kael, taken down because he forgot how to fight.’" Zarenth said.

Kael opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Zarenth stood, cracking his neck with exaggerated nonchalance.

The air around him grew tense as his aura flared—immense and overwhelming, completely unlike anything the students or Tharion’s men had ever felt before.

A dark crimson Red glow engulfed his form, and his confident grin stretched wider.

He turned his gaze to Tharion, eyes burning like a predator locking onto its prey.

"You know, I’ve fought plenty of arrogant bastards in my life… but you take the cake." Zarenth said.

Tharion’s face remained composed, though his fingers tightened on the hilt of his blade.

"You’re interfering in something that doesn’t concern you." Tharion said.

Zarenth laughed. A deep, mocking laugh that echoed like thunder.

"Oh, but it does concern me. I can’t let you kill my entertainment now, can I?" He pointed his sword casually toward Tharion.

"Why don’t you take a step back? Or do I have to show you what happens when you piss me off?" Zarenth said.

The other figures watching the battlefield murmured, sensing Zarenth’s overwhelming power.

For the first time since their arrival, there was a sliver of hesitation in their ranks.

Kael, barely able to move, watched Zarenth.

’Zarenth is at atleast {Empyrean +(4)} as of now in near future —he will become {Emperial Sovereign(-) (3)} it might be difficult for him to deal with all my them.’ kael thought.

Zarenth turned back to Kael, his expression softening—just for a moment.

"Rest up, kid. You’re gonna owe me for this one." Then, with a flash of speed too fast to track, Zarenth lunged toward Tharion.

CLACK!

Tharion’s blade met Zarenth’s with an ear-splitting clash that sent shockwaves through the ground.

Sparks flew as the two forces collided, their auras tearing at the earth itself.

"Is this all you’ve got?" Zarenth taunted, blocking Tharion’s counterattack and sending him skidding back across the ground.

CLACK-CLACK-CLACK-CLACK

The battlefield was a blur of chaos and bloodshed.

The clash of his blade against Tharion’s sent shockwaves rippling through the earth, cracks spider-webbing across the ground with every strike.

Zarenth fought with a grin etched onto his face, his crimson eyes gleaming like twin flames in the darkness.

Every swing of his sword carried the weight of his immense power, his strikes relentless, his presence overwhelming.

"You’re slowing down," Zarenth taunted, his voice laced with mocking laughter as their blades collided once more.

Sparks erupted like fireworks between them.

SLID!

Tharion grunted, sliding backward, but his expression remained unreadable.

"You’re far too arrogant for someone so reckless," Tharion hissed, his dark aura pulsing with lethal intensity.

"Reckless? You’re just mad because I’m better," Zarenth sneered, spinning his sword with practiced ease.

The air around him warped under the weight of his aura, his power thrumming like a heartbeat.

"Is this all you can muster? Tsk, I’m disappointed." Zarenth said.

But before Tharion could respond, the ground trembled violently.

From the shadows, one figure after another began to step forward.

Like wraiths emerging from the abyss, the remaining twenty-nine enemies who had been silently watching joined the fray.

Their dark auras melded into a single overwhelming force, suffocating the air itself.

Zarenth’s grin faltered slightly as he observed the battlefield.

"Oh? Bringing your friends along? How cute," he muttered, though a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "Didn’t know you were afraid of a little one-on-one."

The figures surrounded Zarenth in a perfect circle, weapons drawn, their eyes gleaming with malice.

The air grew still—so still it felt unnatural.

This was no longer a fight; it was an execution.

A predatory smirk tugged at Tharion’s lips as he raised his sword and pointed it toward Zarenth.

"Your arrogance ends here."

For the first time in the battle, Zarenth sighed, rolling his shoulders as if loosening tight joints.

His gaze grew sharp, his earlier humor vanishing.

A low growl rumbled from his throat as his crimson aura darkened, pulsating like a living entity.

"You think you’ve won because you brought company?" Zarenth’s voice dropped, deadly serious.

He lifted his sword, its edge glowing with a blood-red hue.

"Fine. I’ll show you why ganging up on me was the worst mistake you ever made." Zarenth said.

Suddenly, the ground beneath Zarenth cracked and shattered as he whispered two words:

"Dragonic Form."

A pulse of energy exploded from Zarenth’s body, sending shockwaves rippling through the battlefield.

His once-human frame began to shift, dark scales blooming across his skin like molten obsidian.

His arms elongated, sinewy and powerful, tipped with claws sharp enough to rend diamond.

Crimson markings traced patterns across his scales, glowing with an unholy light.

His silver hair, now streaked with black, whipped in the force of his own transformation.

Two twisted horns spiraled from his head, curving like those of a dragonic beast.

His eyes—once bright Red crimson—now yellow burned with an infernal, predatory glow.

The power radiating from him was monstrous.

"I haven’t awakened my full form yet," Zarenth growled, his voice distorted and deeper, carrying the ancient resonance of dragons.

"But this… this will be enough for you."

The figures hesitated for the first time, their collective aura trembling under the weight of Zarenth’s transformation.

Even Tharion’s confidence wavered, his grip tightening on his sword.

And then Zarenth moved.