Dragon God’s Dominion: Rise of the Apocalypse Sovereign

Pain.

A dull, ever-present agony burned in Valeria's legs. It had been there for years, a constant reminder of her weakness, of what she had lost.

But nothing—nothing—compared to the pain in her heart.

She lay on the cold, broken ground, her fingers twitching, her mana fluctuating as she watched Lucien fight alone. She had tried—gods, she had tried—to support him, to keep up, but the demon was too strong, too fast. And she was too weak.

Her legs, useless. Her body, heavy.

She had always been strong. Always.

Before the curse. Before she had lost everything.

But now—

She could only watch.

She saw the way Lucien's breath labored, how his golden aura dimmed with every attack. How his movements became slower, his strikes weaker.

Her baby brother—the little boy who used to follow her around with wide, innocent eyes, clinging to her like she was his whole world—was bleeding.

And she couldn't do a damn thing.

Her fingers dug into the shattered ground, blood welling beneath her nails.

Move.

Her heart pounded.

MOVE.

Then—

She saw it.

The demon vanished, its form a blur of shadow.

And it reappeared—right in front of Eris.

Lucien moved.

She barely had time to register what was happening before his body shielded the girl, before the demon's claws tore through his back.

Valeria's world stopped.

Lucien's body jerked, his blood sprayed into the air like a crimson arc, and—

No. No, no, no.

Something inside her snapped.

Her vision blurred, her breath caught in her throat.

Lucien collapsed, barely managing to stay upright.

The demon loomed over him.

Valeria couldn't breathe.

Her hands shook.

Her baby brother—her world—was on his knees, his golden aura flickering like a dying ember.

The demon raised its claw, preparing to finish it.

And something inside Valeria broke.

No. NO!

A raw, visceral rage exploded inside her, so intense, so consuming, it burned away everything else.

Her mind went blank.

Her body—her useless, cursed body—moved.

Mana surged.

Her veins burned, her muscles screamed, but she didn't care. She refused to care.

Because Lucien was in danger.

Because the demon was going to kill him.

Because she would rather die than let that happen.

Something inside her detonated—a surge of raw, unchecked power flooding her limbs.

Cracks spiderwebbed beneath her as her body—against all logic, against all reason—moved.

She lunged.

Her killing intent exploded outward, suffocating, lethal—so sharp it made the air itself tremble.

The demon stiffened, its instincts screaming.

And in that instant—before its claws could end her brother—Valeria's blade descended.