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Chapter 105 : Same Sex Repels Each Other
Patunasankus never expected that she would yearn so deeply for human connection.
So intensely did she wish for them to see her as Latifa.
Strange.
In the past, when she was alone and most reveled in that solitude, she had steeped herself in boundless arrogance, trying to distance herself from everything.
But now, with a genuine chance to return to that state of isolation, her perception of things had shifted.
Eń ü ḿа .i d
Every connection would become threads binding her, waiting for her to weave them into a fabric embroidered with Latifa—both radiant and resilient.
In the distance, over Taurant, smoke began to rise, followed by the agonized screams of the dying.
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Patunasankus shook her head, gazing at the crimson bloodbath unfolding in the distant city, and then sensed the countless people living there.
She knew the Grand Duke and his kin were attempting to engulf the city using the River of Blood, that Loranhir and Shatina were searching for traces of the Princess, and that Elaphia was pursuing a futile revenge.
If she were the evil dragon, she wouldn't care about such matters.
This, Patunasankus understood clearly.
Е̇n̂ ūm а.їď_
But...
Patunasankus gently rubbed the corner of her eye, revealing a stubborn expression. In truth, she wasn't crying—her eyes were just unusually bright.
"Can't let you run wild like this, acting all arrogant," Patunasankus murmured softly, her mood calming. Perhaps all those memories had settled quietly within her heart, and the turbulent emotions had gradually subsided.
She stood up and slowly began walking toward the city center.
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
A hazy red glow tinted her face, like the faint light of dawn cradling the sunrise. Her reopened eyes flowed with the color of molten iron, her black long hair scattering sparks and radiating a scorching heat.
This time, she didn't sigh, nor was she as indifferent as usual.
Ẁ еb̃ n̄оvѐ l Èñu m_а
Patunasankus knew her situation wasn't hopeless—whether she succeeded or not depended on her own efforts.
In short, there was still hope, within herself, not in others.
The tallest tree bends the most in the wind, carrying a faint, scorching heat.
Black dragon wings spread, occasionally emitting a soft metallic friction sound as they rustled through the trees—but this wasn't the wind; it was the dragon's breath.
Soaring through the sky, the Black Death stood aloof like a deep, dark night.
The darkness was too prolonged, and she was too alone.
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But Patunasankus had already realized.
She would never be truly alone.
She had an irreplaceable person, always by her side no matter when or where.
Her smile.
Her gaze.
And her words would forever accompany her.
Е̊.n úm̄а̀
What she treasured remained precious, and Patunasankus felt grateful for stubbornly guarding them.
Now, she could proudly lift her chest and say:
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
She had a Princess.
She had the most wonderful Princess.
She didn't need to understand the cruel side of this world.
The Princess only needed to live happily; intricate matters would naturally be handled by those who loved her.
W̊ е̃ b́n о̆ vе.l Е̃ṅ ǔ m а
And the evil dragon should do what an evil dragon ought to do.
So.
"Let's give it our all."
The Black Death roared deeply and powerfully.○
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Loranhir rushed through the bloody streets of Taurant.
No, there was nothing—not a trace of anyone, not even the chief box Shatina had mentioned. Even Dreka, who was supposed to be here, had stood her up without a trace.
Е̇ ň.ú mа
Now, with the Princess vanishing without a trace, Loranhir was so frantic she felt like setting something on fire.
She feared that the delicate, fragile Princess—as vulnerable as a snowflake or a speck of dust—might have met with some misfortune.
If such a thing were to happen, Loranhir didn't know what she would do.
Anxiety and impatience churned inside her, making her pace back and forth restlessly. She didn't dare think about it, couldn't think about it—the mere thought made her heart race.
Her heart was as taut as a tightly strung zither string, pounding so loudly it drowned out the surrounding screams and echoed through the streets.
"Sis, big sis, super sis!" Shatina, who was being carried like a doll by Loranhir, cried out in pain, "Please stop pulling my arm—you're going to tear it off! Slow down!"
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"Slow down? Slow down for what?" Loranhir snapped angrily, "If anything happens to the Princess, I'll make sure you work unpaid labor for the rest of your life!"
"Just twist my head off instead—that would be quicker," Shatina whimpered, shrinking her head down.
"Hero?" someone called from the shadows.
"Hmm?" Loranhir instinctively turned to look and saw a figure emerging calmly from a bloodstained corner.
Silver hair, crimson eyes, and the same expressionless face as always—so devoid of emotion.
It was Elaphia.
Ѐ n ú m̃а́
Loranhir recognized her.
"Finding you wasn't easy. It took me some time to see through this illusion," Elaphia said right away, "But your heartbeat is really distinctive—I could hear it from far away, much louder than before."
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"Elaphia?"
"The Princess is fine. I took her to a safer place. No need to worry about her being in such a dangerous spot," Elaphia gestured for Loranhir to relax, "I brought her to the abandoned mill outside the city. The windmill there is quite recognizable."
"Alright, I have things to attend to," Elaphia glanced at Shatina, a mix of relief and melancholy in her eyes, "I won't disturb you from exploiting the newbie."
She prepared to leave.
Е_n u̇ m а̌
"Wait, Elaphia, where are you going?" Loranhir asked her, "Aren't you coming with us to find the Princess?"
"No, I have things to do."
"What things?"
"Nothing much, just what needs to be done. You, hero, should focus on protecting the Princess. Don't worry about me."
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Elaphia looked up at the pitch-black sky, where a few crimson lights surged on the other side of the city. Blood rivers flowed—Dreka had already begun his blood feast.
"No matter what... I have to at least try," Elaphia murmured softly.
W е̇ b̂n ovе l̈ Е ńu mа
She turned and stepped into the shadows, a wisp of black mist vanishing instantly into the depths of the alley. At the end of the street lay a metropolis dyed in blood. Before completely merging with the shadows, Elaphia glanced back.
"Goodbye," Elaphia said solemnly, "I'll take care of all these troubles."
"..."
Her gaze left Loranhir stunned, silent for a long time."Hero?" Shatina looked at Loranhir in confusion. "What hero?"
Loranhir paid her no attention.
"Loranhir!"
Dilarang mengopy novel dari Enuma.id.
Shatina shouted, and only after a long moment of contemplation did Loranhir react, glancing at her.
"Maybe we should just run away. Even from this distance, that thing's commotion feels dangerous. She said she could handle it herself, so let's not..." Shatina instinctively wanted to avoid the risk.
"Listen, Shatina," Loranhir interrupted her. "I know what Elaphia meant, and I heard her say she could handle it."
"Then what's the problem?" Shatina asked, bewildered. "She said so herself."
Loranhir shook her head and sighed, though it was unclear for whom.
"But this flavor of putting on a brave face while struggling—I'm more familiar with it than anyone," she murmured. "It's too familiar, far too familiar... Why did it have to resemble someone like that? It makes me feel like she needs to be taught a lesson."
Еn u m а
Suddenly, Loranhir realized she and Elaphia shared something in common.
It was precisely because of this that she had felt aversion from the very first moment she laid eyes on Elaphia.
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At first, she thought it was just an instinctive dislike for the other's refined demeanor, but upon reflection, she realized it wasn't that.
"Besides, I am the hero," Loranhir said. "What kind of hero would I be if I ran at the first sign of trouble? What right would I have to stand beside such a wonderful Princess?"
Loranhir thought of the Princess's face and her unique smile.
One girl, laughing openly and unreservedly at another girl.
Ӗǹ ūm̈á
In the Princess's eyes, what did her own face look like?
Was it the cowardly, anxious, and timid version of herself from before?
Or the invincible one everyone boasted about?
Loranhir raised the holy sword before her. On its mirror-smooth, ornate scabbard, layers of firelight reflected—golden pupils.
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A person is nothing but what they make of themselves, and in the end, they become who they want to be.
"I'll leave the Princess in your care for now, Shatina. Don't lose her again," Loranhir said.
En ũ mа̂
"Wait, where are you going?" Shatina watched as Loranhir headed in the direction where Elaphia had disappeared.
"To do what a hero should do," Loranhir replied without looking back.
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