Even If I’m Reborn as a Cute Dragon Girl, I Will Still Make a Harem - Book 5: Chapter 143: Crush

“Sky Breaker!”

Moore’s voice was barely above a whisper as he summoned forth the power of Waybreaker. Countless dark sword auras erupted from its blade, resembling a celestial galaxy cascading toward the formidable leather shoe that loomed like a mountain before him.

Each sword aura was condensed painstakingly by Moore over a long time, containing the raw power to rend the very fabric of reality. Yet, against the leather shoe with intricate golden patterns on it, they disappeared as quickly as rocks falling into quicksand.

Thankfully, Moore’s circumstances granted him resilience beyond the ordinary. Wave after wave of sword auras surged forth like an unyielding tide, eventually halting the kraken in the sea.

A chill raced down Moore’s spine as he finally understood Calvin’s warning.

His hand trembled uncontrollably. Could this truly be the strength of a mere mortal?

The despair Mint felt when he was removed from the battle suddenly made sense. It was a natural response when facing such an abnormal opponent.

However…

“I apologize, but I have tasks yet unfinished. I cannot falter here,” Moore declared resolutely, releasing his Waybreaker. Though sealed by the Immaculate Tree Domain, its spirit remained unbound. It continued buzzing while radiating endless starbursts that ensnared one of Lilith’s calves.

“Quite impressive,” Lilith remarked, her demeanor unperturbed despite her immobilization.

“There’s more,” Moore said as he produced a staff from his storage ring, aiming it squarely at Lilith.

He began chanting solemnly, “Great God of the Heavens, grant me the power to vanquish evil… Call of Tempest!”

Despite being underground, an unseen tempest stirred. Dark clouds began gathering above Lilith’s head.

“Wow, what a turn of event.” Lilith stared at the gathering storm above them.

“You’re not the only one skilled in both martial and magic…” Moore grinned, pouring his magic power into the staff. The dark clouds above Lilith’s head began gathering even more quickly, crackling with the energy of a brewing thunderstorm.

Yet, it still was not enough.

“Myre.”

“Yes.”

The spell array that had been prepared in advance expanded, reaching beneath Lilith’s feet. The rolling clouds, drawn toward the array, formed a swirling funnel above Lilith.

The hole in the center was a sea of white lightning.

Lilith’s expression soured at the sight of it, as memories of past encounters with thunderstorms resurfaced.

“Divine Punishment, descend!”

Moore waved his staff, unleashing a deluge of lightning from the dark clouds above, engulfing Lilith in a blinding flash.

The brilliance seared one’s retinas, but faded as swiftly as it came.

When the lightning dissipated, all that remained was a vast crater, obscured by lingering smoke and dust that veiled the landscape.

In the aftermath, an eerie silence descended upon the scene.

“I guess… we have defeated her.” Calvin, who was still pale, was the first to break the silence as he peered into the depths of the smoky crater, half-expecting to find the petite figure.

Yet, it was perhaps best not to find her at all, for it would suggest that the Immaculate Tree Domain had deemed her defeated, whisking her away from the battlefield.

Calvin dared not lower his guard. The image of that monstrous being clad in a young girl’s guise haunted his thoughts.

“We can’t be so sure yet…” Moore remarked nervously. The Waybreaker had returned to his hand.

He tightened his grip on both his staff and sword, poised to strike should the need arise.

Despite his nerves, Moore remained confident in his magic prowess. “Call of Tempest” transcended the abilities of his current realm.

It was a spell that could manipulate laws like weather, reserved for only those of the saint realm.

He was only able to cast this spell because he had once stepped foot in the saint realm. Bolstered by Myre’s spell array, its might could easily rival any saint-level expert.

This spell was Moore’s ultimate move in the Martial God Tournament. He was virtually untouchable by any rank nine martial warrior or mage, thanks to the spell’s qualitative disparity. It was a gap that no amount of talent could bridge.

But against such a monstrous opponent…

Feeling the lingering numbness in his arm, Moore hesitated to offer assurances this time.

“Better safe than sorry,” declared Calvin, who had always been cautious. Despite the absence of movement from the crater, he opted to test the waters.

“Divine Sanction!”

He raised his longsword. A spectral image of what was referred to as a six-winged archangel according to the records in the Luminous Theocracy materialized behind him.

As a divine incantation was heard, the six-winged archangel gently flapped its wing. About a dozen of its ethereal feathers fell off from its wings, transforming into sharp swords before raining down upon the veil of dust.

Thud, thud, thud.

The light swords struck the crater.

The three people breathed a collective sigh of relief, believing victory to be theirs as the little monster seemed to have been cast out of the battlefield by the Immaculate Tree Domain.

“It’s finally over…”

Calvin lowered his longsword. As the tension in his heart eased, exhaustion finally hit him.

“I’m gonna sleep like a log…” he began, only to be abruptly cut off by a sudden, ominous sound.

“…after this…” Calvin trailed off, as his gaze fixated on the crater before him.

The sound heightened his vigilance once more.

“Was that a rock?” Moore asked.

“No.” Color began draining from Calvin’s face. “Even with my depleted magic reserves, that impact was still far too powerful for an ordinary rock to withstand.”

“Is that so? What a pity,” Moore lamented, raising his staff and sword once more.

Tap.

A sharp sound echoed as small leather shoes made contact with the ground, snuffing out the glimmer of hope.

Tap, tap…

A petite figure emerged from the haze of smoke and dust.

With golden locks swaying gently in the lingering air current, a porcelain-doll face appeared—its delicate features framed by fluttering lashes.

Clad in a gorgeous lolita dress, untouched by even a speck of dust, the figure resembled an exquisite creation unrivaled in beauty.

Yet, her eyes were ablaze with a fury akin to molten lava.