Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight

The dragon before Alaric was vastly different from the green wyvern he had encountered before. Its sheer size alone was several times larger, and the overwhelming sense of power it exuded seemed capable of tearing the earth asunder.

Its muscles were strong and firm, its scales impenetrable, and even its magical energy surpassed Alaric's own!

In the brief moment, their gazes crossed, Alaric did not hesitate—he punched the dragon directly in the abdomen!

The violent recoil forced Alaric to quickly retreat.

'So strong!'

From the moment he saw the dragon, Alaric realized it was highly unlikely he could inflict significant damage, but he hadn't expected the gap in their power to be this immense! His punch had been like a gnat trying to shake a tree—it couldn't harm the dragon at all!

Furthermore, the recoil from that punch left Alaric's arm numb!

"ROAR!!!"

A deafening roar sent waves of air crashing through the chamber. The dragon, now fully engaged in battle mode, slowly lowered its massive head, its enormous vertical pupils glinting with a hint of mockery. It was ridiculing Alaric, a being with dragon's blood, for being so weak.

Boom!!

Without hesitation, the dragon unleashed a scorching breath of fire, engulfing everything—including itself—in the blazing torrent! The large chamber, which was spacious enough to accommodate the dragon's movements, now felt unbearably cramped. The dragon's breath nearly covered the entire area, even reaching down the tunnel Alaric had come from!

A sharp cry rang out—!

The flames extinguished, leaving only the lingering heat in the air to testify to what had just occurred. Alaric stood with his hand raised like a blade, faint red magical energy swirling around his fingertips. Those cold, emotionless, gem-like pupils of Alaric's were clearly reflected in the dragon's eyes.

With just one punch, Alaric understood both his strengths and weaknesses against the dragon. Its scales and muscles formed a defense that he couldn't break with his bare hands. Moreover, his continuous burst of power had already pushed him to his current limit.

So, Alaric abandoned the idea of overpowering the dragon through sheer force. Instead, he decided to deliver a killing blow in the shortest time possible!

Roar!!

The dragon didn't know how Alaric had managed to erase its breath attack, but it was certain of one thing: this insect was provoking it! As the enraged dragon prepared to attack, Alaric's figure blurred, shooting forward like an arrow! Compared to the dragon's sluggish movements due to its massive size, Alaric's speed was an absolute advantage.

A flash of red lightning, and before the dragon could counterattack, Alaric had already reached its unguarded abdomen.

Squelch!!

Alaric's outstretched arm pierced through the dragon's scales at its death line with ease, like a spear. The dragon's massive maw was only a few meters from Alaric, but the highly concentrated magical energy it had gathered dissipated completely in that instant. With its death line torn, the dragon—kept by the Atlas Institute—met its destined end.

The towering dragon's body ceased all movement, standing motionless like a lifelike statue.

Yet, Alaric's assault wasn't over—

Boom!!

From his arm, countless red bolts of lightning erupted within the dragon's body! In just a few breaths, the enormous dragon's body swelled like an over-inflated balloon until it violently exploded!

When Holmes and Nitocris arrived after dealing with the remaining automatic defense systems, they were greeted by a scene of red hell. The dragon's mangled remains still stood in the underground chamber, and the stench of blood hanging in the air made Holmes realize what had transpired.

Alaric shook his still-numb arm, his dragon heart pounding wildly, with strands of red magical energy still crackling over his body.

"Sir Alaric, this is quite... impressive," Holmes remarked, raising an eyebrow. Alaric's display of brute force had surpassed anything Holmes had seen from him in prior battles. Holmes couldn't help but reassess Alaric's combat capabilities. He marveled at the sheer power of the Lion King's influence—how much dragon's blood had been used to give Alaric such superhuman strength in such a short time?

"I almost lost, but I managed to scrape by with a narrow victory. Thank you, Miss Nitocris," Alaric smiled at Nitocris. It was thanks to Nitocris's Noble Phantasm holding off the automatic defense systems that Alaric had the opportunity to focus his attacks entirely on the dragon.

"This is the power of a Pharaoh. If you were to serve the Sun King, you could become a priest—"

Nitocris proudly puffed out her chest, her long ears atop her head swaying slightly.

"Mr. Holmes! How do we get out of here?"

Alaric looked at the maze of tunnels and felt a headache coming on.

"Of course, we'll return the same way we came, Sir Alaric. When entering a labyrinth, you can't rely on visual data alone. You must map out the area in your mind as you proceed. That's common sense, my friend."

Holmes spoke so casually that Alaric was left stunned. He had tried that method when they first entered the Atlas Institute, but as they ventured deeper, he had completely lost his way. Yet Holmes, who had entered the place with him, had perfectly memorized the complex route and could now reverse it. This talent left Alaric in awe again: "As expected of the great detective—"

...

About ten minutes later, led by Holmes, Alaric and Nitocris finally emerged from the underground Atlas Institute. The storm stretching across the sky came into view, and Alaric couldn't help but feel a sense of reunion after a long separation.

"Well, this is where we part ways, Sir Alaric," Holmes suddenly said.

"Hm? Mr. Holmes, you're leaving already?"

Alaric wasn't surprised by Holmes' departure. Whether it was due to his allegiance to the Lion King or Nitocris's allegiance to the Sun King, neither was as important to Holmes as Chaldea was.

"Indeed, I still have other people to pursue—someone known as a Phantasmal Spirit. But, Sir Alaric, could you do me a small favor?"

Holmes' serious expression made Alaric drop his lighthearted demeanor. "Mr. Holmes, what is it?"

Despite the many mysteries surrounding Alaric, Holmes knew he was a formidable ally. He believed that Alaric could become a valuable companion to Chaldea.

"Sir Alaric, if I don't return in six months, I'd like you to welcome Chaldea when they arrive. They'll still be entangled in numerous mysteries. If necessary, please help answer their questions."

"No problem!"

Alaric gave a thumbs-up, accepting the request.

Seeing this, Holmes finally looked relieved.

"Then, I'll take my leave."

As Holmes disappeared into the sandstorm, Alaric turned his gaze back to Nitocris.

"Miss Nitocris, shall we return to the Holy City now?"

Before Nitocris could respond, a surge of magical energy appeared.

"Unfold, Mirror of the Underworld!"

Nitocris waved her Scepter and a dark mirror manifested in the air before Alaric.

"Hm?"

Alaric was puzzled by Nitocris suddenly summoning the Mirror of the Underworld. He asked, "Miss Nitocris, what are you doing?"

"Of course, we're returning to the temple."

Nitocris gave Alaric a confused look as if scolding him for asking such a basic question.

'Teleportation?'

Alaric stared at the dark mirror, recalling how Nitocris had first appeared when they met.

As Nitocris stepped through the mirror, Alaric quickly followed. He immediately felt his entire body enveloped by strange magical energy, unable to see his hands in front of him as if he were in the silent realm of the underworld.

In the grand and opulent temple, the dark-haired king lowered his gaze.

"Hm? It seems you've found the anomaly, Nitocris."