Chapter 220: The Progenitor’s Might
Days turned into weeks, and under Igaris’s relentless guidance, Lilya’s power grew at a speed that terrified anyone who caught even a glimpse.
At dawn, she practiced physical training. Igaris had her carry boulders larger than her body, sprint across rivers, and climb sheer cliffs with only her hands. At first, she cried and stumbled, her small body bruised and scraped. But each time she fell, Igaris stood silently, waiting. He never lifted her unless it was life-threatening. He let her rise on her own.
"You told me once you wanted to protect your parents," Igaris said one morning as Lilya collapsed after carrying a stone slab on her back. "Then remember that weakness will never let you protect anyone. Not them, not yourself."
Gritting her teeth, Lilya rose again, determination blazing in her eyes.
By noon, training shifted to bloodline mastery. Golden scales spread across her body as she learned to control her transformations. Sometimes only her arms scaled over, other times her eyes glowed with draconic pupils, and on rare attempts she sprouted a tail. The unstable phases often tore at her flesh, leaving her screaming, but Igaris calmly healed her with a wave of his hand.
"The Progenitor bloodline will break you if you do not learn to master it. Pain is the language of dragons. Listen to it."
By dusk, she practiced combat. Igaris sparred with her using wooden weapons, never letting her land an easy hit. His movements were beyond her comprehension, yet he always gave her an opening—just enough for her to believe she had a chance. Every time she lunged, he disarmed her, pinned her, or redirected her strength until she collapsed in frustration.
"You are too soft," he told her one evening, after tossing her into the dirt for the tenth time. "Your hesitation is weakness. Do not swing your claws to impress me. Swing them to kill your enemy."
Her parents often watched from the distance, hearts aching at the cruelty of his methods. Yet they also saw the miracle. Their once fragile daughter, often bullied and mocked, now carried the aura of something far greater. Her presence made even grown men kneel unconsciously.
The townsmen whispered more and more.
"Every day she grows stronger..."
"She’s just a child, yet her power is already beyond ours."
"That man... he’s not a guardian. He’s shaping her into something terrifying."
Months passed. Lilya, once a trembling girl, now stood with a firm gaze. She could summon her wings at will, coat her body in scales, and breathe a stream of golden fire that melted boulders. Her aura no longer flickered uncontrollably but flowed with authority.
One night, after a grueling session, she sat beside Igaris, sweat dripping down her forehead. "Why... why do you push me so hard?" she asked quietly.
Igaris looked into the distant stars, his expression unreadable. "Because you are not meant to live as a villager’s daughter. You are Tiamat reborn, the Progenitor of Dragons. The universe will either worship you... or fear you. And when that day comes, you must be strong enough to choose which it will be."
Lilya’s small hand clenched tightly. She looked up at him, her golden eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "Then I’ll choose to be strong... so that no one I love will ever cry again."
For the first time, Igaris’s cold lips curved into a faint smile.
"You are ready to begin walking the real path."
The town had just begun to quiet down after her training ended. But suddenly the ground trembled as if a mountain itself was marching toward them. From the horizon, black banners filled the heavens.
Rumble!
A legion. Not just a thousand or ten thousand. But a million dragon warriors, clad in scaled armor, their draconic auras merging into a suffocating tide of oppression.
At the head of the army flew massive dragons, each the size of hills, their wings blotting out the sun. The Celestial Dragon Empire had not come to welcome Lilya as a princess. They had come to erase her.
A general’s voice boomed across the skies, infused with dragon might.
"Hear us, Insolent Child. You’re committing a taboo by claiming your blood as the Almighty Progenitor’s. For this insolence, the Emperor had ordered to decimate you and your people along with you."
The villagers collapsed in terror. Lilya’s parents hugged each other, weeping, unable to even stand. Their daughter was about to be executed before their eyes.
But then—
The air itself trembled. A pulse of divine power radiated from Lilya’s small frame. Her golden eyes glowed with unbearable brilliance. Her aura surged higher and higher until even the armored soldiers in the skies began trembling.
The general sneered. "Do you think a mere child can stand against the might of the Empire?"
Then it happened.
Her body erupted in light.
"ROARRRR!"
A roar shook the world. Mountains crumbled, the sea raged, and the clouds split open as if the heavens themselves bowed.
Before everyone’s stunned eyes, Lilya’s form expanded. Wings of pure gold and crimson unfurled, vast enough to cover the entire village. Her scales shimmered like molten starlight, her horns curved with divine majesty, and her very breath carried the weight of creation.
The Progenitor Dragon had awakened.
The army of a million staggered in horror. Their dragon bloodlines screamed in pain, suppressed by the purity of the origin. Dragons that had stood proudly in the skies convulsed and fell to the ground, unable to even flap their wings in her presence.
The soldiers clutched their chests, choking as their very blood rejected them.
"N-no... this aura... impossible!"
"She is the true blood! The origin!"
"We cannot... even breathe..."
Lilya roared once more, her cry echoing across continents, and the entire legion felt their power ripped away.
But she was not alone.
Igaris stepped forward, his cloak fluttering in the storm of her awakening. His eyes glowed with calm dominance. He drew his trn thousand ornaments blade, and with a single step, appeared in front of the collapsing army.
"Those who raise their weapons against her," his voice rang like a decree, "shall face me."
"Heretic!" the enemy general roared.
The battle erupted.
Igaris blurred through the skies, each strike of his sword cleaving entire battalions apart. His Godslayer Sword Style shattered barriers and tore through dragon knights like paper. His Soul Eclipse swallowed the wills of commanders, leaving them hollow and broken.
Meanwhile, Lilya soared above in her colossal dragon form, her flames burning brighter than suns. Every time she breathed, legions of soldiers evaporated, their armor and weapons turning to ash. With her Progenitor authority, she suppressed every dragon warrior, rendering them powerless before her might.
The villagers could only gape in awe, unable to comprehend the scale of what was happening.
"That’s... our Lilya?"
"She’s not human... she’s a goddess!"
"No... she’s the Dragon Queen reborn!"
Her parents clung together, sobbing not in fear anymore, but in awe and pride. Their little girl, once mocked, was now a being even the heavens bowed to.
The imperial legion that had come with arrogance and fury was reduced to chaos. Their generals fell one by one under Igaris’s blade. Their soldiers lay crushed beneath Lilya’s golden flames.
The surviving General, barely holding onto consciousness, screamed in despair.
"Retreat! Retreat before the Progenitor devours us all!"
But the retreat never came. Lilya’s final roar split the heavens, sending the entire battlefield into silence. The legion was annihilated, their banners burning to dust.
When the fires dimmed, Igaris landed beside her massive dragon form. He looked up, and Lilya lowered her golden head, her vast eyes shimmering with tears.
She fell to her knees, trembling, her hands stained with ash.
"I... I killed them... so many of them..." Her voice cracked, filled with horror. "I felt their bloodlines tearing apart... I felt them screaming as my fire consumed them. I... I destroyed them all..."
Her tears fell freely, dropping onto the blackened ground. She clutched her chest as if her heart would burst.
"I never wanted this! I only wanted to protect... not to slaughter! Am I... a monster, Igaris?"
The villagers heard her words and lowered their heads in silence. Even her parents wept quietly, unable to run forward, unable to reach their daughter who had ascended to a realm beyond them.
Igaris walked across the battlefield without hesitation. His boots crunched over ash and broken steel until he reached her trembling figure. Without a word, he knelt in front of her.
He gently lifted her chin, forcing her golden eyes to meet his.
"You are not a monster." His voice was steady, unshakable. "What you did today was survival. They came with the intent to kill you, to erase you. If you had not fought, they would have slaughtered not only you, but your parents, your village, everyone you love."
Lilya shook her head, sobbing harder. "But... but I felt it, Igaris! Their fear, their agony... I suppressed their bloodlines and crushed them like insects. How can someone who wields such cruelty still call herself human?"
"You are not human." Igaris’s words were blunt, but his hand did not leave her cheek. "You are the Progenitor. The origin of their blood. To them, you are a god. And gods do not ask for permission to exist."