Typemoon: Starting Out as the Lion King's Personal Knight [417] (Patreon)

That was not any tangible thing—merely an illusion caused by a surge of magical energy.

Yet, to the many Yaga who had never seen its true form, it was already the coming of the apocalypse.

On this already harsh land, a monster no less fearsome than the Tsar had appeared, now looming over Moscow!

Even though the Yaga were a new form of life—hybrids of humans and beasts—whose tenacious vitality allowed them to survive for centuries in this frozen wasteland...

They could now call humanity the old breed as if they had already ascended to a new realm.

But they had not truly left the domain of humanity; their so-called ascension of life was nothing but a hollow illusion. At the instant they faced the crimson dragon’s overwhelming presence, like a raging tide, they were awakened from their dreams—utterly and completely.

“What is that—?!”

Their bodies screamed, their minds unable to comprehend the spectacle before them.

Many Yaga who witnessed that scene collapsed to the ground, unable to move for a long time.

It was a defeat at the very level of existence. As Yaga, their lifecycles were utterly overwhelmed by this higher being; they could not maintain themselves and were swallowed by terror.

Such extreme fear forced their bodies to secrete hormones, stimulating the mind and flesh, resulting in a false sense of euphoria.

Within this euphoria, their minds were left unprotected by their bodies, stripped away together with their souls, helplessly falling into a blissful heaven.

The earth itself, bearing all things, thundered and trembled beneath them—the ground shook as if it were a beating heart, forcing the Yaga to face the pulsing vitality of yet another monster.

Meanwhile, inside Moscow’s royal palace.

Alaric, hair wild and black, had already unleashed all his magical energy—a vast and terrifying power, rivaling the gods themselves.

A pair of pale golden, slit-pupil eyes shone brilliantly, his inhuman will on full display.

If he was to face a monster, then he would become a monster himself to fight back.

With the passing of another second after Alaric unleashed his power, the Moscow palace began to disintegrate—not shattering, but vanishing.

Not a single trace of matter remained.

The release of magical energy was only the beginning; more terrifying still was the existence of the crimson dragon.

Monsters are solitary—they do not permit another monster to appear in their presence, especially one so brazen.

This was the magic dragon from Britain, the last dragon upon the planet’s surface!

“Nap time’s over—”

Gem-like light flickered in Alaric’s eyes. Grinning, he drew back his right arm, clenching his fist. “Ivan!”

He smashed down with unbounded crimson lightning!

This was not what Kadoc had foreseen—rather than breaking the dream by killing Salieri, it was a far more brutal method.

A blow equivalent to an anti-army Noble Phantasm rampaged through the Moscow palace, vaporizing all the buildings!

Almost simultaneously, the earth began to tremble.

This was no minor earthquake, but visible shaking—the monster slumbering beneath the ground was finally stirring!

Rumble, rumble, rumble.

The requiem-built dreamscape shattered in an instant. Before that inhuman will, no mystic force could block its awakening!

RUMBLE!!

Ivan the Terrible, pressured by the crisis of death, by the invasion, finally awoke from his dream.

【Oh oh, oh oh—oh oh!!

My dream awakens here.

I can finally perceive true reality—yes, in my half-awake state, I slaughtered many rebels and expanded my empire’s territory!

Nap time is at an end—I must rise—I must rise!】

The Emperor, rising from sleep, forced himself to stand—

Rumble, rumble, rumble!!

Thunder roared across Moscow, stirring endless snowstorms.

A shadow beyond human comprehension—a mountain—slowly rose from the ground. Yes, a mountain.

That hulking shadow, like a living mountain, was swallowed by endless blizzards, yet a portion emerged, casting its shadow over Moscow.

The air thundered, and snow whipped into a blizzard.

The Tsar’s majesty once more shone over Russia.

“So you’ve finally awakened—”

Standing high in the sky without the aid of steel wings, Alaric gazed upon the mountain wreathed in endless snow and laughed: “It’s said Ivan the Terrible once moved the capital from Moscow to Alexandrov in the northeast. Yet that city no longer exists in this Lostbelt.

Because Ivan the Terrible slept, mutated, evolved, and grew ever larger, that city vanished from the world.”

Rumble, rumble.

Thunder still roared—true thunder, and the mountain’s own bellow.

Within that white curtain, dazzling bolts of lightning danced.

Staring at the colossal being, Alaric could not help but marvel: “—Yes, that mountain is the remains of the man who, having left Alexandrov, returned to Yaga-Moscow and fell into slumber—

Ivan the Terrible is no longer human, but neither is he Yaga. At the end of his ever-growing dream, the Emperor became a divine beast.”

The Emperor’s roar tore apart the blizzard, exposing the majestic monster’s true form.

It was not a real mountain, but an elephant—its sheer size had already surpassed the bounds of human understanding, hundreds of meters tall.

Here in Moscow, it stood as an insurmountable mountain!

The bones and muscles supporting that body were already things beyond human comprehension. Its heart, like a reactor, pumped endless magical energy—rivaling even Alaric’s dragon heart.

Fang-like tusks, as tall as pillars, ripped through the blizzard. Its trunk, shrouded in lightning, slammed the ground again and again, spreading shockwaves through Moscow like earthquakes!

This was not an emperor, but a living natural disaster!

Even its mere existence, its mere movement, brought catastrophe to the world!

And the one who faced this disaster was none other than Alaric, who had never left!

Having unleashed all his magical energy, making no effort to hide his draconic aura, Alaric now appeared to Ivan the Terrible as a threat to Russia itself!

But before that—

The Emperor’s roar echoed through all Moscow, even reaching the distant sky—its thunderous sound impossible to ignore.

“ANASTASIA!! ANASTASIA!! I have received the reports from the Guards!! You... dare betray me?!”

In his dream, Ivan had learned the news of Anastasia and Kadoc joining forces with Chaldea.

This was undoubtedly a betrayal.

A betrayal that could not be forgiven.

“So peace, so happiness—was it all a lie?! Anastasia—!!”

“So much nonsense, Ivan.”

Alaric interrupted Ivan’s roar, laughing as he picked his ear: “I have a small request—could you please die for me?”

Alaric’s words were not loud, quieter even than the blizzard and thunder, but Ivan the Terrible heard them perfectly.

In response—

“O dragon, invader of my domain!”

No further words were needed. The mountain moved, and from that hundred-meter-long trunk burst a flash of lightning rivaling a Noble Phantasm!