Chapter 5: The Descent of Calamity

It was—a hellish scene of anguished screams.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!?”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!?”

The headquarters of those who practiced the ancient, esoteric secrets passed down through generations—the

Now, it was a cauldron of hell, filled with pure, unadulterated terror and despair.

In that space dominated by darkness, a massive, tetrahedral altar towered at its center.

The order’s members, who had ceaselessly offered prayers day and night around it, suddenly began to scream in agony, as if their souls were being shattered.

At the same moment, an ominous magical circle, resembling a mocking, skull-like caricature, emerged on the floor—centered on the altar and ensnaring all the order’s members.

Now, it unleashed its hidden power, wielding its dreadful, blasphemous force.

“Agyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!?”

It was being drained. It was being devoured.

Life force, soul, mana—the supernatural energies that made a person human, that sustained a living being—the skull-shaped circle mercilessly gorged on them.

As their lives were drained, the order’s members rapidly withered; their limbs became like dried twigs, their skin wrinkled, their hair fell out… they turned into desiccated mummies and collapsed.

It was a chalice filled with the blood of sacrificial offerings.

A ravenous reaper was gulping it down, one after another—

“What is the meaning of this, Eleanor-donooooo!?”

Ernest, gradually mummifying, crawled toward Eleanor, who stood calmly amidst the tragedy.

“Y-you… have you betrayed us!? Deceived us!?”

“…I haven’t deceived you at all.”

Eleanor looked down at Ernest with a cold smile.

“With this, your long-cherished wish will be fulfilled, you know? The grandmaster you revere will awaken in this world… yes, through your blood and lives.”

“…!?”

“Shouldn’t you be overjoyed? To become the blood and flesh of the god you worship. All of this is your wish… and the desire of the Great Elder you believe in.”

“Lies… I can’t believe it…! Our Grandmaster… the Great Elder… could he truly desire such a thing…!? To discard us like this…!?”

Ernest looked up at the altar.

At its apex stood the Great Elder, the one who had orchestrated this plan, gazing imperiously at the hell below. The Great Elder, who had decided to cooperate with Eleanor.

“Why, Great Elder… why would you do such a thing…!?”

Dragging himself forward…

Ernest, still mummifying, somehow crawled up the stairs.

“Why is this happening!?”

Finally collapsing at the Great Elder’s feet, clinging to his robe, Ernest grasped it.

With a rip, the Great Elder’s robe tore, revealing the visage beneath.

Beneath the robe—jagged, uneven teeth, discolored and exposed muscles, dark, sunken eye sockets—it was a putrid, rotting corpse. One glance was enough to know it had been dead for a long time.

“W-what is this…!? Then, the Great Elder who has been guiding us until today…!?”

“…Oh, dear, you found out? Turning gentlemen into corpse puppets isn’t my hobby, so perhaps my preservation spell was a bit sloppy?”

Chuckling, Eleanor playfully muttered something under her breath.

Then, the thing that had once been the Great Elder melted into a puddle at its feet… and soon crumbled into clean, white bones with a clatter.

“Truly, may it be thus—Fua Lan”

Eleanor made the sign of the cross with her right hand, offering a holy prayer.

By now, Ernest, fully mummified beside the Great Elder’s bones, had already breathed his last.

“…Well then, it’s almost time.”

Eleanor turned her gaze back to the altar’s apex.

Her eyes fell upon a massive block of ice.

Within that ice, a girl slept, hands clasped in prayer, trapped inside.

Beneath the ice, another magical circle was drawn, directly connected to the massive sacrificial circle below.

Through it, lives—lives, the lives of countless victims—flowed into the ice.

Soon, a crack split the surface of the eternal ice crystal, which should have been indestructible.

—Thump.

Something ominous, a pulse of magical energy, began to stir in the space.

Thump, thump, thump.

An abnormality manifested in the girl sleeping within the ice.

With a cracking sound, silvery scales began to form on her skin, covering her body.

With a creaking sound, the nails on her hands and feet extended like blades.

With a snapping sound, her body swelled with muscular bulk.

Thump, thump. With each pulse of magical energy, the girl transformed into an otherworldly form.

Eventually, the indestructible eternal ice crystal could no longer withstand the girl’s transformation within and shattered into countless fragments.

Yet, the girl, cast onto the altar, continued her metamorphosis unabated.

Her steel-like frame swelled larger and larger, until it could be mistaken for a mountain.

Wings burst through her back, growing massively. Her body, now fully covered in silver scales, and her once-beautiful visage transformed into a streamlined, lizard-like monstrosity.

At last, her closed eyelids snapped open, revealing ice-blue eyes that pierced the darkness.

And then, the colossal creature opened its jaws toward the heavens—

A terrifying beast’s roar echoed through the canyons of the Silvasno Mountain Range.

That day—as the sun sank below the horizon.

At the central plaza in the heart of White Town.

The place where the opening ceremony had been held on the first day was now bustling with tourists.

All eyes were fixed on a stage draped in makeshift curtains.

In the dim veil of darkness, a world illuminated by rows of lanterns.

The tourists eagerly awaited the start of the dedicatory dance.

“Hey, honey, did you hear?”

“Yes, that Marie-sama declined to perform…”

Whispers rippled incessantly from the audience seats surrounding the stage.

“Sigh… I came this year because Marie-sama was supposed to star…”

“Apparently, Celica Arfonia is taking her place as the substitute.”

“Oh, right, didn’t the city’s Silver Dragon Festival committee suddenly make a big announcement about that…?”

“Celica Arfonia? That《Witch of Ash》? The living legend?”

“Are they mocking us!? She’s neither an actor nor a dancer, just a magician, isn’t she!? Completely out of her field!”

“Hmph… This is shaping up to be the worst year in the history of the Silver Dragon Festival…”

Though they had gathered for the main event, the audience was visibly disappointed, their expectations thoroughly dashed. At this rate, once the dedicatory dance began, the spectators would likely start leaving their seats one by one.

“Are they seriously making us do this…? If something goes wrong, I’m not taking responsibility!”

Glenn, peeking at the audience from backstage, muttered with a twitching cheek.

He was clad in a blue robe embroidered with ethnic patterns.

It was the costume for the magician, the protagonist of the legend The Silver Dragon and the Magician.

“I wanna go home… I just wanna go back to Fejite… How did it come to this…?”

“Geez, Sensei, are you still grumbling? We’ve come this far, so we just have to do it, right?”

“Haha, let’s do our best, Sensei!”

Sistine and Rumia, dressed in backup dancer costumes, tried to soothe Glenn.

“Glenn-san, don’t overthink it. Even if the dedicatory dance fails, we won’t hold it against you.”

“Indeed, it was doomed from the start. The fact that we can even hold it is a blessing in itself.”

Mayor John and Millia, who had come to support amidst their busy schedules, encouraged the reluctant Glenn.

“Well, Glenn-kun, honestly, for something thrown together so quickly, your performance wasn’t half bad.”

The troupe leader, Heine, nodded in encouragement.

“Haa… I’m just going with the ‘whatever happens, happens’ mindset now.”

“Mm.”

Ginny and Re=L, dressed in black costumes as the demon king’s minions, nodded.

“It’ll work out somehow! If it’s you, Sensei, you can definitely pull it off!”

“Indeed! You’re someone who shines in the clutch, after all!”

Colette and Francine, as carefree as ever, brimmed with energy, showing no trace of tension. Even after yesterday’s events, they were like this. Just as during the incident at St. Lily Magic Girls’ Academy, these ojou-sama were truly tough and unflappable.

“By the way… where’s Celica? Isn’t it almost her turn?”

“Um, it seems the costume fitting is taking a bit of time…”

Sistine answered Glenn’s question… and at that moment.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Celica appeared backstage, dressed in the costume for the Silver Dragon.

“Gods, what a complicated outfit…”

“—!?”

In that instant, Glenn’s eyes widened.

Celica’s costume was a flowing, white-based robe-like garment.

Its design subtly evoked a dragon. A decorative cloth mimicking dragon wings hung from her back, and the loose sleeves were sharply notched, resembling claws. The glittering embroidered patterns at key points seemed to imitate scales.

If she pulled the triangular white hood, currently draped over her back, deeply over her face, the two triangular ornaments resembling horns would likely evoke a dragon’s head. Though somewhat bulky overall, the design miraculously accentuated the graceful lines of her elegant figure.

This peculiar costume, with its vaguely northern ethnic vibe, was adorned with intricate silverwork, elevating it to a unique form of beauty.

She looked like a bride, or perhaps a sacred dragon priestess—utterly beautiful and mystical.

“What’s wrong, Glenn? Is there something on my face?”

“N-no… it’s just, uh…”

Because it was Celica, Glenn couldn’t bring himself to offer straightforward praise.

Especially after last night, he found it hard to look her in the face.

So…

“Just… do your best.”

Turning away, Glenn offered those curt words of encouragement.

“…Yeah.”

Celica smiled happily at Glenn’s words and turned on her heel with a flourish.

“Well, my turn’s coming up, so I’m heading to my position. You’d better not mess this up.”

With graceful steps, as if bells chimed with each movement, Celica left the backstage area.

““““…””””

Sistine, Rumia, Re=L, Francine, Colette, Ginny—

They could only stare, entranced, at her retreating figure, overwhelmed by her otherworldly beauty and presence.

“Celica was so gorgeous. I’m jealous.”

“She’s too formidable…! How could any woman possibly surpass that…!?”

“Haha… We’ve got to work harder on ourselves, don’t we?”

Re=L’s eyes widened, Sistine clutched her head and sank to her knees, and Rumia gave a wry smile.

As the night deepened, the darkness and chill grew stronger.

The murmurs of the crowd gathered around the stage gradually quieted.

The flickering glow of countless bonfires illuminated the stage, lifting it from the darkness.

Amidst that solemn atmosphere…

Clang.

The dance orchestra, seizing the moment, struck a bell.

Its clear tone announced the start of the dedicatory dance.

A path, lined with evenly spaced bonfires, stretched from the center of the audience seats to the stage. Now, a woman in white advanced solemnly toward the stage.

It was Celica.

Her face hidden beneath a deeply drawn white hood, she lightly held the hem of her costume, trailing a veil-like wing… walking quietly in time with the clear bell’s resonance.

“Ho…? That’s Marie’s substitute…?”

“The rumored Celica Arfonia…?”

To be honest, the audience had no expectations for this dedicatory dance.

After all, they had come to see Marie’s performance.

So, what could this Celica, the infamous witch, possibly achieve in a field so far from her own? They might as well mock her inevitable failure.

That petty curiosity and interest had drawn them here, nothing more.

But—

Clang.

As Celica took slow, deliberate steps in time with the bell, a ripple of unease and confusion spread through the audience, their murmurs growing.

“…W-what’s this…? This awe-inspiring presence…?”

“It’s like we’re being swallowed…”

Nothing had even started yet.

Celica was merely walking quietly, following the dance’s steps.

Yet her movements, choreography, gestures, presence, arm swings, footwork, breathing—the dignity, charisma, and mysticism emanating from her entire being, illuminated by the bonfires, began to engulf and overwhelm the audience.

Clang.

“…”

Celica was merely a human woman dressed in a costume mimicking the Silver Dragon.

Yet, she exuded the undeniable presence of the Silver Dragon itself—an overwhelming aura.

As the audience watched her, holding their breath…

The orchestra struck the ice bell, and in harmony, they began playing the Lyarma horn, made of bundled bugles, and the Snowlish flute, crafted from coniferous wood.

The strange, piercing sound, like winter winds blowing through the mountains, blended with the clear bell…

Soon, the Maple harp, made from the snow maple tree, and the Snowlish bouzouki—a traditional stringed instrument resembling a guitar, unique to the Snowria region—began to be solemnly plucked, playing the main melody.

Before they knew it, the audience was silently, raptly following Celica with their eyes.

Spurred by the traditional Snowria music enveloping the area and the audience’s gazes, Celica ascended the stairs… stood at the stage’s center… and turned to face the crowd.

Following the dance’s ritual, Celica crossed her arms high above her head and gracefully lowered the hood she had worn so deeply.

In that moment, her visage was revealed.

Ooooooh…

A wave of awe and shock surged through the audience like a tsunami.

By revealing her enigmatic presence, Celica’s overwhelming aura now unmistakably dominated the audience, seizing their souls entirely.

Her eyes were vacant, as if gazing into the distance—as though she had channeled something divine. Combined with her peerless beauty, every gaze, every heart, was drawn irresistibly to her.

The dedicatory dance began with a shock that seemed to bring down the heavens.

The melody shifted.

Gracefully, Celica began to dance, following the ritual steps.

Her arms moved elegantly, her legs glided smoothly.

The costume, spreading like wings, traced beautiful, dreamlike arcs—

The audience was already utterly captivated by Celica, without any hope of resistance.

“Phew… Looks like the dance’s opening went well…”

Glenn exhaled in relief, watching the stage from backstage.

There, bathed in the glow of bonfires, Celica danced to a soothing, wondrous melody.

At times flowing like water, at times soaring through the sky—Celica used the entire stage, embodying the Silver Dragon with her dance to the fullest.

It was as if the legendary dragon had manifested on the stage—an illusion so vivid.

“Even so… I’m supposed to be her partner? Seriously? No way…”

Pale and clutching his head, Glenn crouched, overwhelmed by the impossibly high bar.

It felt like even a light-year’s head start wouldn’t be enough to reach her level.

“Hey, White Cat. Can I run? Please, can I just run?”

“I get how you feel, but no way!”

Sistine, who had been entranced by Celica’s dance, snapped back to reality and scolded Glenn sternly.

“Come on, pull yourself together! Right now, it’s the first movement, ‘The Dragon’s Descent’! This chapter depicts the Silver Dragon’s first arrival on the land of Snowria, bringing blessings to its people!”

“In the second movement, ‘The Dragon and the Demon King,’ the epic battle between the Silver Dragon and the Demon King is portrayed, right?”

“Yes, that’s where Re=L-san and I come in.”

Ginny responded to Rumia’s murmur, and Re=L nodded quietly.

“Here, Professor Arfonia will take a moment to adjust her costume, and then it’s the third movement, ‘The Magician and the Priestess’… That’s where your part starts, Sensei! Get fired up!”

“Ugh… The hour of my execution draws closer by the second… No, no, no, no…”

Glenn’s pathetic, whining demeanor drew sighs from everyone present.

Leaving Glenn’s inner turmoil behind…

Celica’s performance continued, carrying the audience’s souls with it.

Did the music drive Celica’s dance, or did her dance lead the music?

The performance weaves a dreamlike tapestry of time and space, leaving a mystical afterglow as it transitions from the first movement to the second.

From here, the dance begins to depict the battle between the Demon King, who invades the land of Snowria, and the Silver Dragon, who protects it.

A dancer clad in the Demon King’s costume appears on stage.

The wicked Demon King has launched an invasion into Snowria, the land guarded by the Silver Dragon.

Following the Demon King, Re=L Rayford and Ginny, playing the roles of the Demon King’s vanguard soldiers, also take the stage.

The Demon King brandishes a black sword, performing a cruel and menacing sword dance.

Soon, the Demon King dancer and Celica, playing the Silver Dragon, begin to pass each other repeatedly in the flow of the performance. They alternate positions, intertwining with fierce steps and intense choreography.

In an instant, the music in the background shifts to a wild, exhilarating tone.

At last, the battle between the Silver Dragon and the Demon King has begun.

The backup dancers portray a raging blizzard of extreme cold, while Re=L and Ginny join the Demon King in a sword dance, relentlessly attacking Celica.

The Silver Dragon stands alone against these forces of evil.

“…Seriously, what’s with that guy? Don’t mess with me!”

Glenn can only groan in exasperation.

As expected, Celica’s performance overshadows every other dancer on stage.

The Demon King dancer is giving it their all, showing the pride of a professional, and Re=L and Ginny are doing their best.

But no matter what, Celica’s Silver Dragon completely dominates the scene.

In the storyline of the dance, this is the moment where the Silver Dragon is supposed to succumb to the Demon King, but no matter how you look at it, Celica is utterly victorious.

Her performance exists on an entirely different plane of mastery.

“I know I keep saying it, but can I say it one more time? Am I seriously supposed to be her partner? For the rest of this, until the final scene? No way! This is a total setup—I’m gonna look like a complete fool!”

“I-I get how you feel, but come on, you need to get it together already!”

Sistine puts on an angry front, but her expression is unmistakably filled with sympathy and pity.

“A-amazing… Too amazing…! That’s Celica Arfonia…!?”

“This year’s ceremonial dance has to be the greatest ever—no, maybe the greatest for all eternity!”

The audience can’t help but raise their expectations, growing certain of the ceremonial dance’s resounding success.

“…I’m done for… It’s all over…”

Conversely, Glenn is convinced that his pathetic dancing will ruin the entire performance, clutching his head and crouching in despair.

As various emotions swirl through the air, the ceremonial dance continues.

And then…

It happens suddenly.

Celica, who had been dancing flawlessly, suddenly freezes in place.

—As if she had abruptly forgotten every step of her performance.

A ripple of unease spreads through the crowd. Murmurs, whispers…

Celica’s sudden halt sends a wave of agitation through the venue.

The music stops, and the Demon King dancer, along with Re=L and Ginny, are forced to halt their movements as well, unable to continue in sync with Celica.

“H-hey… Celica, what’s wrong?”

Glenn, unable to hide his own unease, peers at Celica’s back from backstage and calls out to her.

“……”

But Celica doesn’t move.

She stands as still as a statue, utterly motionless—

——

It’s an awfully self-congratulatory thing to say.

But Celica had always thought her dancing was perfect.

When viewed through the lens of her knowledge of magical archaeology, it was clear. This ceremonial dance shared the same origins as the spirit dances passed down by the nomadic tribes of Nansui since ancient times. Every gesture carried cryptic meaning.

Through this dance, these movements, these steps, she expressed the story, the dialogue, and the emotions without leaving anything out.

This ceremonial dance was a magical performance that conveyed far more information to its audience than any scripted play could ever hope to. …Not that she’d told anyone, since no one had asked.

(Marie? Hah, I don’t know who that little girl is, but she’s no match for me. There’s no one in this world who can dance this better than I, who understands every nuance of its meaning.)

Celica’s intellect saw through everything in that moment.

Everything was as clear as day. The dance, the movements, the steps—they spoke more eloquently than anything else.

How desperately the Silver Dragon wanted to protect the people. How deeply it loved them.

How fiercely the Demon King hated the world. How intently it directed its murderous intent toward the Silver Dragon.

Because Celica understood every hidden meaning in the dance, she could immerse herself in it more deeply than anyone, delivering a performance that gripped the audience’s souls.

For Celica Arfonia《The World》, this was child’s play.

(Not bad. This is actually kind of fun.)

A little diversion like this wasn’t bad every now and then.

Dragging Glenn into this diversion wasn’t a bad idea either.

Sure, Glenn would probably find it a hassle, but Celica loved seeing that slightly troubled, annoyed look on his face.

(Yeah, this’ll definitely make for a good memory—)

While she was completely absorbed in the dance on the outside, Celica was inwardly smirking.

—Then, she noticed. She couldn’t help but notice.

The dancer clad in a black robe, playing the Demon King.

The one she, as the Silver Dragon, was currently engaged in a fierce battle dance with.

The Demon King that dancer was supposed to be portraying—

—At some point, it had taken on Celica’s face and form.

“…Huh?”

Her heart leaps with a thud. Celica stiffens involuntarily, her feet coming to a halt.

Static. In that instant, noise crackles through Celica’s consciousness.

Zzzt, zzt—In that moment, the world—changes.

——

“What the—!?”

A deafening roar of freezing wind assaults her ears.

Suddenly, a ferocious blizzard swirls around her, the biting cold numbing her skin.

Overwhelming white noise blankets her vision, and her body feels as if it’s floating.

Is this a cliff? Or perhaps a mountaintop?

Looking around, there’s nothing but blizzards, ice, frozen plains, and jagged, frost-covered peaks—nothing else.

The lively festival of White Town has vanished without a trace.

The world has transformed into a frozen hell, ruled by silence and death—

“What’s going on!? Where am I!? I was supposed to be performing the ceremonial dance—”

Faced with this incomprehensible situation, Celica can only panic.

Standing a few steps ahead of her is a woman cloaked entirely in a black robe.

The luxurious golden hair spilling from the hood is familiar.

The blood-red, malevolent eyes glinting through the gaps in that golden hair are familiar.

…Because she sees them in the mirror every day.

“Tch… You dare defy me, you wretched dragon?”

The voice, speaking an unfamiliar language, is familiar.

…Because she hears it every day.

“Hurry up and die, Silver Dragon. I have to kill ■■—”

The hatred, rage, and resentment in those words seem capable of burning the world to ashes.

Then, from far above, behind Celica—something tears through the raging blizzard with overwhelming power, splitting it in two as it approaches.

With wings so vast they could cover the sky and a mountain-like body, a silvery-white entity descends with a soul-shaking roar, as if to crush everything in its path.

The black-robed woman’s vicious gaze shifts to whatever is approaching from above.

“《■■■■■■》…”

The black woman chants something, her voice laced with hatred and fury.

In her hand forms a spear glowing crimson with immense heat. Compared to the military-grade offensive spells Celica usually uses, this flaming spear pulses with power that makes them seem like mere toys.

The black woman hurls it toward whatever is approaching from above.

The crimson meteor streaks through the sky, closing in on its target with deadly precision.

Celica, watching it unfold up close—

“—Celica!? Hey, what’s wrong!? Snap out of it, Celica!”

Glenn shakes Celica vigorously as she kneels, staring blankly.

“—Huh!?”

After several calls, light finally returns to Celica’s eyes.

“…G-Glenn…? W-where am I…!?”

Regaining her senses, Celica frantically looks around.

This is no longer the frozen hell ruled by death and silence.

It’s White Town… the stage of the ceremonial dance.

The audience seats are deathly silent.

Staff members have gathered on stage, surrounding Celica with worried expressions.

(Just now… was I having a daydream…?)

Celica shakes her head and exhales. Cold sweat pours from her body, leaving her feeling clammy and unwell.

(But… what was that daydream? For a dream, it felt strangely vivid…)

As Celica struggles to recover from her shock and confusion, remaining silent—

Glenn gently places his hands on her shoulders, speaking to her with care.

“…You’re exhausted, aren’t you? I told you not to push yourself.”

“Ah…”

Celica notices the audience, now completely disengaged.

There’s no need to spell it out.

The ceremonial dance—has failed. Because of Celica.

“…I’m… sorry. It’s my fault…”

“Don’t worry about it, idiot. It’s their fault for irresponsibly shoving a major role onto an amateur with just a day’s notice. We didn’t do anything wrong.”

Glenn, as brazen as ever, seems to be trying to comfort Celica in his own way.

“Come on, let’s go. With the star of the show in this state, the ceremonial dance is canceled. For now, head back and rest. Leave the rest to me.”

Glenn lends a shoulder to the utterly drained Celica, helping her stand.

(…Was that really just a dream…?)

Still wavering between dream and reality, Celica lets Glenn guide her.

And then, at that moment—

A terrifying roar, splitting the heavens and shaking the earth, suddenly echoes through the area.

It pours down from the distant sky, striking White Town with force.

It’s a bellow so powerful, it feels as if it could flatten the entire town.

Instantly, the audience erupts into panicked chaos.

“Whoa, what was that roar!? Is a bear falling from the sky or something!?”

“No way that’s a bear’s roar! It’s something far more terrifying—”

Glenn and Sistine, rattled, scan their surroundings warily.

But it’s already too late. The change—had occurred unnoticed.

It’s cold. The temperature is plummeting by the second.

Though it was already below freezing, the chill in the air grows even more intense.

Moisture in the air crystallizes instantly, sparkling like diamonds in the phenomenon known as diamond dust.

The clear, star-filled sky, so rare for this night—

Is suddenly covered by thick, ominous clouds, casting a heavy, oppressive atmosphere.

And then—a blizzard begins.

As the temperature drops without limit, a bone-chilling wind starts to blow—grows wilder—gains strength. Snow, sharp as thorns, mixes with it, its volume increasing by the second, swiftly painting the world white.

“W-wait a sec—what’s going on!? Why all of a sudden!? It’s freezing!?”

This is clearly abnormal weather.

A subzero cold too extreme to merely call “frigid,” a blizzard so thick you can’t see a few meters ahead.

And—the overwhelming presence of something approaching from the sky.

Another earth-shaking beastly roar slams into White Town… the air trembles, screaming.

“Glenn… something’s coming.”

Re=L, having conjured a greatsword, looks up at the sky, bracing herself.

“What’s happening!? What’s going on!?”

Feeling the approach of a massive, monstrous entity, Glenn hurriedly prepares to face the sky.

“《Let the flame shine・at my fingertips・let there be light》!”

To at least illuminate the darkness born of night and blizzard, Sistine chants Black Magic [Torch Light], launching a magical light into the sky.

And, illuminated by the faint glow of the light orb—

It appears—tearing through the raging blizzard, descending before Glenn and the others.

In that instant, the sheer impact, the ferocious wind pressure, shakes the earth, the world itself.

“Wha—!”

Faced with the otherworldly figure before him, Glenn is rendered speechless.

The entity that emerges—its mountain-like body gleams silver.

Its tree-trunk limbs pulse with unfathomable violence.

Its wings, spread wide, are sharp, vast enough to cover the heavens.

In this darkness, shining colder and sharper than the freezing air, are its azure eyes.

A supreme being, born to rule over humanity. The tyrant at the apex of the food chain.

—A dragon.

The emperor of magical beasts, gleaming dully in silver. A silver dragon. Here, in Snowria.

That symbol brings a single word to everyone’s mind. Namely—

““““The Silver Dragon!?””””

It could be nothing else.

The legendary Silver Dragon has descended before Glenn and the others.

“What!? For real!? That’s actually the Silver Dragon!? No way!”

“W-w-why would the Silver Dragon show up out of nowhere!?”

Ignoring the panicking group, the Silver Dragon lands its massive form on the ceremonial stage.

Naturally, the stage can’t support its immense weight, and its limbs crash through, splintering the platform with loud cracks.

Before the stunned Glenn and others—

The mountain-like Silver Dragon raises its serpentine neck, opening its massive jaws toward the sky—

“Oh crap!? Everyone, get your mental defenses up—!”

Glenn shouts a warning to the students around him—in that instant.

The dragon’s roar echoes through the area once more.

Its throat is a great bow, its words shooting stars. The roar, shaking the very air, is a devastating shock that pierces directly through human souls and minds.

Exposed to this transcendent roar, more than half the audience faints instantly, while the rest are reduced to blank-minded shells, their thoughts obliterated. Their bodies, bound by the chains of pure terror, are completely paralyzed, and panic temporarily robs them of sight, hearing, touch… all five senses.

The dragon’s roar—Dragon’s Shout [Stun Slaughter], a form of Dragonic Magic.

“Arghhh—Damn it all—!”

“Ugh, aaahhh—!”

Glenn and Re=L, through sheer will and grit, barely manage to resist the mental assault of the Dragon’s Shout.

“Haa, haa, haa—!”

Sistine, having hastily cast White Magic [Mind Up] to bolster her mental defenses, is pale and hyperventilating, on the verge of collapse but just managing to stay conscious.

“W-what is this…!? What’s going on…!?”

Meanwhile, Rumia remains oddly calm—

““““……””””

Francine, Colette, and Ginny fail to resist the mental attack. Though they avoid fainting, they’re left utterly dazed.

With a single roar rendering over ninety percent of the crowd incapacitated, in this dire situation—

The dragon gazes down at Glenn and Celica—especially Celica—piercing her with its azure eyes.

And in the dragon’s tongue, it speaks.

“It’s been a long time, Celica…”

“—!?”

“…Huh?”

Celica, grasping the meaning, widened her eyes in shock, while Glenn stood with his mouth agape.

“Wait a second… How do you know Celica’s name…?”

But the silver-gleaming dragon ignored Glenn’s muttering question and continued.

“The time has come to settle the sins you etched upon me! By your hand, I was cast down to become a creature of darkness—my body, my long-accumulated hatred, my regrets—now, here, the moment has arrived to cleanse them all!”

“Don’t mess with me! I don’t know any dragon like you!”

“If you claim ignorance—if you say you’ve forgotten—then I shall carve it into your soul once more.”

And with that, the dragon spread its wings wide, as if to cover the heavens, and declared:

“My name is Le Silva! —Silver Dragon General Le Silva!”

“Silver Dragon General…!?”

Silver Dragon General Le Silva.

The moment the dragon proclaimed its name, a dark aura surged and overflowed from its entire body.

“Let us settle this, Celica! I shall await you at the promised land of our vow!”

Then, the dragon flapped its outstretched wings with a mighty beat.

The storm-like blast that arose scattered the humans present like leaves in all directions, and the dragon soared into the sky.

“Wait! What are you!? What exactly do you know about me!?”

Celica’s cries went unanswered.

The colossal dragon vanished into the darkness and blizzard beyond the vast sky.

“Damn it… What the hell…!?”

Celica sank to her knees, pounding the snow with her fist.

“What was that dragon…!? What am I…!?”

Amid the swirling snow and the raging, frigid tempest—

“What the hell is going ooooooooon!?”

—Celica’s futile self-questioning dissipated into the void