The battle between the U.S. military and the dragon had already raged for several hours. Ever since the creature had appeared above the city of Miami and begun its rampage, waves of American forces had arrived to engage it.
Unfortunately, while the U.S. military's advanced equipment allowed them to dominate most conflicts around the world, it proved completely useless against this dragon.
Other than the missiles that could slightly weaken the dragon's aura, none of their weapons had any real effect. Most exploded before even reaching the creature, and even those that hit failed to pierce its defense. Even the most powerful missiles could not inflict any lasting damage.
Such an enemy left the entire U.S. force at a loss. Even when the superheroes hidden among ordinary citizens began to reveal themselves one after another to join the fight, the results were hardly better.
Miami, a major city along America's eastern coast, was not exactly a stronghold for superheroes. The strongest among them barely reached the High Earth Rank.
That particular man, being the most powerful in the region, had considered himself the rightful guardian of the city and felt it his duty to lead the charge against the dragon. Ignoring everyone's warnings, he had rushed forward alone.
To his credit, he possessed considerable strength. Streams of corrosive fire burst forth from him, quickly tearing through the dragon's aura. But just as he succeeded in shattering its shield, his exhaustion and momentary pride cost him dearly—one careless move, and the dragon bit down on him, devouring him whole.
By consuming him, the dragon replenished its depleted energy, its aura once again expanding to full strength.
The sight sent the other superheroes into a panic. From that moment, none dared to get too close. They resorted to attacking from afar with energy-based abilities, unwilling to risk their lives.
That decision might have kept them safe, but it left the soldiers to suffer. Before, they could fight freely under the superheroes' protection. Now, with those same heroes retreating, the U.S. troops were fully exposed—and the deranged dragon immediately turned its fury toward them.
Had reinforcements not arrived with a relentless barrage of powerful missiles to drive the beast back time and again, the troops would have already been annihilated. It was a miracle they had lasted this long.
"Shit! Where the hell did this thing come from? I thought superheroes were already beyond human comprehension—but this thing?" In the control room aboard an aircraft carrier, Colonel Harland slammed his fist against the table, his face dark with anger.
By now, they had lost more than thirty fighter jets and three battalions, yet the damage dealt to the dragon was negligible. The only vaguely positive development was that, after several hours of nonstop bombardment, the faint black barrier surrounding the dragon had compressed to half its original size.
It seemed that if things continued at this rate, they might eventually be able to harm the dragon's actual body.
But no one felt optimistic. Their losses were already catastrophic, reinforcements from other regions had yet to arrive, and their current firepower could sustain them for at most another hour. After that, they would be reduced to helpless prey for the dragon's slaughter.
Even so, what could they do? The superheroes had turned into cowards. After their strongest had been eaten, the rest had withdrawn completely, offering little more than token assistance from afar.
Harland couldn't even scold them. After all, most of them were listed under the government's "Exempt from Major Offenses" classification—people who could not be legally held accountable unless they committed crimes of national-level severity.
If he ordered them to fight and they refused, they could simply kill him on the spot and claim, "You were sending us to our deaths. I had every right to refuse."
He knew perfectly well that if that happened, no one would dare blame them. This was the untouchable protection given to "special individuals." As a colonel who had climbed his way up from a civilian background, he had no authority to challenge them.
"Colonel, should we request authorization to deploy nuclear weapons?" one of his subordinates approached and whispered cautiously.
"No, we can't. There are still too many civilians who haven't been evacuated. Even if the city is destroyed, as long as people survive, it can be rebuilt. But if we drop a nuke, everyone will die. Then everything will truly be over. Whether we win or lose this battle, if we use nuclear weapons, we'll just end up being the scapegoats—the ones the government blames to appease public outrage."
Colonel Harland slumped into his chair, pulling off his cap and tossing it onto the table. Rubbing his temples, he rejected the suggestion firmly.
"This can't go on forever, but even our strongest missiles can't inflict any real damage. Even if we used nukes, there's no guarantee they'd work. It's too risky to try."
After a moment of silence, Harland looked up at his subordinates. "What does High Command say? Are reinforcements on the way? Have they dispatched stronger superheroes?"
"Colonel, Headquarters has already mobilized two fleets and an entire army division to support us. But as for superheroes..." The man trailed off, glancing nervously at Harland's expression.
"Go on." Harland already had a sinking feeling but still clung to a shred of hope that he was wrong.
"When the military proposed deploying higher-ranked superheroes, several senators intervened. They said those heroes have been assigned to 'more important missions' and that this dragon is the army's responsibility." The subordinate straightened, shutting his eyes tightly, as if bracing himself for an explosion.
"Shit, shit, shit! Those damn politicians are all pigs! They're good for nothing but making trouble in peacetime and causing disasters in wartime! Even pigs have more sense than them!" Harland slammed his fists against the table, sending everything on it crashing to the floor. After venting his anger, he went silent, propping his forehead against his hands in weary frustration.
"When will the reinforcements arrive?" His voice was hoarse now, the outburst having drained what little strength he had left. He no longer mentioned superheroes—only the soldiers.
"Half an hour." The answer made him fall quiet. After a moment, he waved a hand, dismissing everyone else from the room.
"If we fire all missiles simultaneously, could we damage it?" His voice was low, but his subordinate heard him clearly.
"Yes," the man hesitated briefly before replying with certainty.
"Then launch everything we have. I want that barrier broken in one strike. Once the shield is down, we can hurt it." Harland thought for a moment, then made the only logical—yet hardest—decision.
"But, Colonel—" the subordinate began, only to be cut off.
"I'll take full responsibility. Just do it."
"Yes, sir!" The man saluted sharply, tears glimmering in his eyes as he turned and left the room.
Now alone, Colonel Harland sat staring at the screen displaying the battle outside. "I should've made this call from the start. I'm sorry, everyone," he murmured.
Just then, his eyes caught a sudden movement—a slender figure. He watched as the girl drew back a bowstring and loosed an arrow. In the next instant, the dragon's barrier shattered, and the explosion from her arrow made its massive body shudder violently.
Seizing the rare opportunity, the U.S. forces unleashed a new wave of concentrated firepower, drowning the dragon in a storm of explosions.
The girl fired two more arrows in rapid succession, each blast sending shockwaves through the air. The mighty dragon, clinging to a skyscraper, roared as its claws lost their grip. It plummeted toward the ground, barely managing to spread its wings in time to avoid a fatal crash.
The sight filled Harland with exhilaration. He quickly ordered his subordinates to hold the missile barrage, waiting for his signal. It didn't matter that they didn't understand why—soldiers only needed to follow orders.
Under his command, most of the military's missiles entered standby mode, ready to strike at the perfect, decisive moment.
"Hm?" In a distant high-rise, a white-clad young man slowly opened his eyes, sensing the disturbance. His gaze turned toward the dragon. "Why did she come here? I already lured it this far. The rest was supposed to be America's problem. Why would she risk coming here herself?"
As he spoke, the white-clad young man's brows furrowed slightly. Then, suddenly, he covered his mouth and coughed violently.
"Damn it... disturbing its mind has drained too much of my spirit. After these hours of struggle, even my soul's been injured. At this rate, I won't last much longer." He slowly lowered his hand, revealing fresh blood staining his palm.
"I didn't expect its resistance to be this strong... nor its obsession with Chu Lian to run so deep. If not for that, I could've held control over it longer. What a pity." He smiled bitterly. For reasons unknown, the dragon had become pathologically fixated on Chu Lian.
The moment it had been separated from her, it began to rebel, forcing him to pour all his mental strength into disrupting its consciousness. The prolonged psychic struggle nearly corrupted him with the creature's violent aura—he'd only saved himself by decisively severing the infected part of his soul.
Even so, his spirit was badly wounded. He no longer had the strength to maintain control.
Especially now that Chu Lian had reappeared before its eyes—the dragon went berserk like a starving wolf scenting fresh meat, consumed by the overwhelming urge to break free and devour her. The sheer intensity of its hunger made even his soul ache.
"She's the one I'm supposed to protect. I won't let you harm her so easily! My master gave me everything I wanted—now it's my turn to repay him." Determination flashed in his eyes. Forming a hand seal, he whispered coldly, "Seal of the Demon—Suppress!"
A surge of immense, righteous energy erupted through the air, taking shape as a complex sigil—a distorted variant of the word "Suppress."
The glowing symbol floated in midair before sinking into the young man's forehead, flowing along his soul until it reached the dragon's own spirit.
There, it transformed into a colossal seal, pressing down upon the beast's frenzied soul and forcing it into silence.
Pff! Blood sprayed from his lips as the technique took hold, staining his white robes crimson.
Wiping his mouth, the young man's lips curved into a faint, satisfied smile. "Beast... for one hour, you'll remain bound. No matter how much you struggle, until the Seal of the Demon fades, you won't move. Within that hour—will come your death."
His spirit withdrew fully, ensuring no trace of the dragon's malice had clung to him. Once confirmed, he slowly stood. "I'll have to go save her myself. Hopefully, she's still unharmed when I arrive."
Even gravely wounded, he still possessed Earth-level combat strength. It wouldn't last long, but it was enough to rescue one person.
"Too bad the sword's still lodged in that beast's body... otherwise, I could've fought properly." As he muttered, his figure vanished, racing toward the dragon's location.
"Looks like using the Mystic Eyes of Death Perception through the Seven Illusions Bow can 'cut' its aura. The effect doesn't last long before it regenerates—but that's enough time to damage it." Chu Lian smiled in triumph, testing her technique with success.
She might have been pleased, but the battlefield wasn't. Her sudden appearance made both sides tense up—and as she paused her attack, both the dragon and the U.S. military simultaneously turned their fire on her.
Boom!Whoosh! Two distinct sounds pierced the air—a missile and a massive fireball speeding toward her. Chu Lian's expression twisted. "The dragon I can understand—but the U.S. military too? Are they idiots? I'm clearly here to help, you fools!"
She didn't stop to consider how she must have looked—her armor and powers were clearly nothing like any known superhero's. Their reaction was only natural.
Annoyed or not, she still had to dodge.
"Teleport." Her eyes flicked toward a distant point, and her figure vanished instantly.
A second later, the spot she'd been standing on erupted in simultaneous explosions. Boom! The already-ruined building disintegrated completely, its debris raining down in a fiery cascade that consumed the block below. The blast was so intense it made anyone watching hold their breath.
"Big Sis will be fine... she has to be." Chu Chu knelt down, clasping her hands together as she prayed toward the battlefield.
The girls were confined outside the combat zone under Suicune's watchful guard. But desperate to know what was happening, they had snuck out and climbed to the vantage point where Chu Lian had once stood.
Fortunately, Suicune was wise—it knew exactly how far Chu Lian's restrictions went, and so it allowed them to watch from that height while guarding them closely.
"She's fine," Inori Yuzuriha said calmly, her violet eyes glowing as she observed the distant battle through her Spiritual Sight. She had seen Chu Lian teleport to safety before the explosion. Turning to Chu Chu, she added softly, "She avoided it."
"Mommy..." Anna whispered, clutching a piece of Sanae Furukawa's Bread as she nibbled it slowly. Her black eyes were fixed on the distant horizon where her mother fought.
She had been obedient—since Mommy told her to stay, she wouldn't disobey. But worry gnawed at her, and so she channeled her power quietly to keep sensing Chu Lian's presence.
"So that's what a true powerhouse looks like..." Kurosaki Satsuki muttered, her eyes reflecting the glow of the distant explosions. She couldn't see clearly, but she knew Chu Lian had managed to wound the overwhelmingly powerful dragon. Shock mixed with admiration and yearning in her heart.
The others remained silent. Unable to see the details or do anything to help, they simply followed Chu Chu's example—kneeling, praying. It might not help, but it gave them something to hold on to.
Boom! Another massive explosion tore through the battlefield, even stronger than before. The ground beneath them trembled. The girls' hearts clenched with fear.
Was Chu Lian safe this time? Could she have dodged such a blast?
The battle was escalating with every passing moment.