Chapter 283: The Fall of Placidusax, and Melina’s Change
Placidusax’s dragon breath had not been entirely ineffective.
At the very least—
It had burned away Arthur’s upper garment.
He casually patted out the lingering flames and tore off the ruined fabric.
Looking at the Dark Moon Greatsword in his hand, he sighed.
"If not for Ifrit, I wouldn’t have had to turn a mage build into a frontline warrior."
To preserve the dragonlord’s flesh intact, Arthur had deliberately refrained from using powers that would corrode or taint the body—
No curse authority.
No scarlet rot.
No large-scale death erosion.
And so here he was—
Fighting like a swordsman.
He had considered controlling the Dark Moon Greatsword remotely via sword flight for long-range assault.
But Placidusax also wielded time.
If the dragon slowed the sword mid-flight, Arthur would be forced to divide his attention.
Better to keep the blade in hand.
Fortunately—
The battle was nearing its end.
Placidusax was already weakened to a fraction of its prime.
Now missing yet another head—
Its strength diminished further.
And rage had stripped it of clarity.
It roared.
Then charged in madness.
Time authority surged around its body.
Crimson lightning exploded outward.
The remaining dragon head spewed breath relentlessly.
Three forces—
Time.
Lightning.
Decay-breath—
Rained toward Arthur in unbroken succession.
At that moment, Placidusax resembled a living storm hedgehog.
Approach was impossible.
Arthur didn’t need to approach.
The blood threads were still embedded in its wounds.
With the neck severed, extraction accelerated dramatically.
Arthur widened the distance between them.
The chase resumed.
Gradually—
Massive blood loss began to take effect.
Placidusax felt weakness seep into its limbs.
The berserk haze cleared.
But too late.
Cold spread through its body.
Numbness.
Dizziness.
Classic symptoms of catastrophic blood loss.
Arthur seized the moment.
He Apparated again—
Behind the dragon’s back.
The Dark Moon Greatsword rose.
And fell.
The final head separated cleanly.
For an instant—
The severed head’s eyes remained wide.
Disbelief filled them.
Even decapitated—
The immense vitality of an ancient dragon kept it conscious briefly.
Long enough—
To reflect.
Once Elden Lord.
Ruler of Farum Azula.
A being from the dawn of ages.
And now—
Slain by a human.
Placidusax closed its eyes.
The dragon king’s era ended.
Arthur moved swiftly.
He stored the dragon’s massive corpse and both severed heads into system storage.
In the Lands Between, the power of the dead returned to the Erdtree.
And who knew—
Whether a dragonlord dwelling within a temporal rift was exempt.
He would not allow the Erdtree to benefit from his victory.
Without Placidusax’s anchoring power—
The arena collapsed.
Arthur placed a palm on the ground.
The entire colosseum vanished into his storage.
After all—
Farum Azula’s material shared origin with the Ruins Greatsword.
Too valuable to waste.
He even considered claiming the entire city after defeating Maliketh.
His Zen Garden already housed Elphael.
One more floating ruin wouldn’t hurt.
With the arena gone—
Arthur was expelled from the temporal rift.
Back in the crumbling present-day Farum Azula—
Melina was waiting.
She hurried forward when he appeared.
"Arthur, are you alright?"
She examined him closely.
Only then did Arthur remember—
His shirt was gone.
A pity.
He had quite liked the Alberich set he found in Leyndell.
Previously, dragon breath hadn’t damaged his equipment.
Apparently—
This one had simply been stronger.
He pulled a spare garment from storage and draped it on.
"The Dragonlord is dealt with. I’m unharmed."
Melina visibly relaxed.
Then he frowned slightly.
"Didn’t I tell you to go home and wait?"
This was not a scripted game world.
Bosses did not remain politely confined.
Maliketh was not far from here.
If the shadow beast sensed Melina—
It might attack immediately.
Though Maliketh was Marika’s shadow—
He was also the Greater Will’s enforcer.
Marika had shattered the Elden Ring.
That was betrayal.
If he saw one of her creations—
He would not hesitate.
That was precisely why Arthur had ordered her to leave.
Melina replied simply:
"I was worried about you."
Four words.
Short.
Direct.
Arthur blinked.
The old Melina would never have said that.
Living in his home—
Interacting with others—
Her emotions had begun to grow.
And in that moment—
Arthur realized something subtle.
She was no longer merely a vessel of will.
She was becoming—
Herself.
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