From afar, the roar of a dragon thundered across the battlefield.

"""…………"""

A moment of silence. Everyone halted their swords, their attention drawn to the roar that echoed across the Zaraam Plains. Their gazes turned skyward.

Since the Shadow Dragon's subordinate dragons had suddenly vanished from the battlefield, the tides had shifted unmistakably in favor of the Kingdom's army. And yet, for some reason, they couldn't quite push through to a decisive victory. Worse still, the Empire's forces seemed to be fighting with even greater ferocity—as if throwing their lives away in a desperate attempt to take as many with them as possible.

This had caused hesitation among the Kingdom's soldiers. Though the casualties were slight, they were steadily increasing. The Seven Peerless Swords had also suffered losses, with half of them sustaining severe injuries and being forced to retreat from the front lines. Morale on the Empire's side soared, while the Kingdom’s forces were growing ever more beleaguered.

They were being pushed back.

The more they panicked, the more their comrades fell. Even the most elite knights were struggling just to stay alive. And then—

That roar.

The ripple of unease spreading through the Empire’s army was undeniable.

──What just happened?

Gilflare Ashflame, one of the Seven Peerless Swords, had barely managed to hold the front line together. Now, he found himself bewildered by the unnatural stillness that had overtaken the battlefield.

He had already been pushed to his limits. The man once hailed as the Blazing Magus Emperor was nearly out of magic. His signature fire spells were barely usable. Even so, he had held firm, relying solely on his honed swordsmanship to inspire his allies. But there was only so much he could do.

And then—a dragon's roar.

He couldn't help but tense.

──Was that the Shadow Dragon? No… something about it sounded different…

"There's no way… a new dragon just appeared, right…?"

His words were half a joke, but his instincts were spot on. In the Imperial capital, a new dragon had been born. That roar had been its first cry.

Of course, there was no way for Gilflare, exhausted on the battlefield, to know this. The eerie silence still held him frozen. Honestly, he wanted nothing more than to collapse right then and there. His magic was all but gone. His body screamed in agony. It was a wonder he was still standing at all.

──But I can’t just give up here…!

For his fallen comrades, for the people he had left behind in the Kingdom, for the knights still fighting bravely against the dragon despite their youth—Gilflare refused to accept the thought of surrender.

It was the pride of the strong. The duty of those with power. And so, even though his body was battered and broken, he kept fighting.

"WOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH────!"

He let out a roar of his own, kindling the flames in his heart, determined to rally himself and his comrades.

"────WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

"…Huh???"

But his cry was abruptly drowned out.

By laughter.

A high-pitched, arrogant cackle. A gust of wind that cut through the battlefield.

That voice. That laugh. The Kingdom’s soldiers recognized it instantly. It sent a shiver of unease down their spines, stirring up memories of past fear. Even Gilflare, one of the Seven Peerless Swords, instinctively snapped his gaze toward the source.

And there—suddenly appearing amidst the battlefield—stood the Crimson-Blooded Knight.

"────The war is over, you fools!!"

Feid Bradley.

"Wha—?! Feid-sama!?"

Gilflare was stunned.

Feid Bradley had been cursed by the Shadow Dragon’s blessing, losing his right arm and his magic. It had forced him into retirement. These days, he had been living in seclusion, focusing on training his disciples. Though still formidable, he was no longer supposed to be capable of fighting on the battlefield.

He had never even set foot on this warfront.

He was supposed to be in the royal capital, protecting the Kingdom in case of emergency.

"Why are you here!? What about the capital's defense!? And more importantly, you can't even use your right arm or magic, so how—!?"

"WAHAHAHAHA!! Are you blind, Gilflare?! I'm in the best shape of my life right now!!"

Somehow, Feid was wielding his sword freely with his right arm, using magic with strength even greater than his prime. He was effortlessly tearing through the Empire's forces.

Gilflare could only stare, dumbfounded.

The battlefield’s strongest knight was in utter disbelief. But for the soldiers—especially those who had once trained under this legend—it was like witnessing a dream.

"No way… Is this real!?"

"The Crimson Blood Demon Emperor is back on the battlefield!?"

"Damn it, our demon of an instructor is back from hell!!"

"Hah… That old man really is a monster…"

Morale surged. Inspired by the sight of the Crimson-Blooded Knight cutting down enemies single-handedly, the Kingdom’s army roared in response.

The Empire's soldiers, however, were overwhelmed by sheer despair.

"T-This is impossible…!"

"The Shadow's power is gone! Scar-sama has fallen!?"

"It's over… We're doomed…!!"

Gilflare finally pieced it all together.

"So that's it…!!"

Claym Bradley—

He had done it.

He had slain the dragon.

He had accomplished the Dragon Hunt, marking the end of the Great Dragon War.

"How long do you plan to stand around, Gilflare!?"

"──!!"

"Let’s end this farce of a war! Follow me!!"

"──Yes, sir!!"

And so, Feid Bradley rampaged across the battlefield.

His movements were absurdly powerful. Just moments ago, he had been crippled by the dragon’s curse—yet now, he was utterly unstoppable.

The balance of the battle, once hanging in a delicate stalemate, shifted instantly.

Completely.

The Empire’s soldiers, having lost both their will to fight and their leader, surrendered within minutes. In mere moments, the war was over.

"Hah. That’s it? It’s already over?"

Feid Bradley stood amidst the carnage, looking almost… disappointed. As if he still had fight left in him.

Gilflare and the others exchanged glances, all coming to the same realization.

──This man wasn’t human.

"Alright! Time for me to move on!"

"Huh? Move on to what—ah…"

"To welcome my most important disciple, of course!!"

And so, the hero who had single-handedly ended a war set off toward the Imperial capital.