Did I get… outplayed…? Leon asked himself.0

He had expected the drake to open with a simple dive attack, but instead, it had unleashed Dark Breath. Charging up an attack while flying was an ambush unlike anything he’d ever seen.0

This wasn’t some petty trick from an arrogant monster looking down on its prey. The drake had learned. It had lost an eye to creatures it once saw as weak, and filled the void left by pride with cunning.0

The window to dodge had already passed. Leon tightened his grip on the Holy Sword’s hilt. Even without activating his Aura, just standing firm was enough to make radiance burst from the blade’s surface, pushing back against the darkness.0

And that wasn’t all. As a faint glow emerged near his collarbone, a white flame surged across the Holy Sword’s surface: the Holy Flame, a power granted by the Stigma of the Purifier.2

“You’re not the only one who grew…!” Leon shouted.0

If the drake was going to get more vicious, Leon would simply respond with greater force.0

The black storm—a vortex of consumption that reduced all matter to nothing—was right before his eyes. Facing that overwhelming power, Leon stepped...0