The Chosen One to Rule Them All Chapter 9
Chapter 9: Child's Play
"So, Skarethia—you thought it was acceptable to enter a plane you do not belong to, cause chaos on my father's campus, destroy school property, and nearly kill my students… all while I stand here as the head teacher?" Ignara's voice was calm, but the air around her trembled. "Explain yourself. Surely you have some kind of reason?"
Skarethia shook so hard her scales rattled. "I—Ignaranthus…! I was only following my mistress's orders. I—I would never defy the Holy Order. R—Remember, the prophecy still holds—you cannot kill me."
"Kill you?" Ignara narrowed her molten gold eyes. "Oh no, that would be far too simple. And yes, you're right—the prophecy forbids me from ending your life. But it says nothing about making you wish you were dead. Those were your own words, were they not? The same words you spat at Erikathrix as you threatened to mutilate her face and body?"
Skarethia swallowed hard. "Y-yes, Your Holiness… But I acted under direct orders from Mistress Tiamathress. You are sworn to protect the gods, even the dark ones. I am Queen of the Reds now—a minor goddess. You cannot punish me."
Ignara's expression sharpened. "You're correct. But that does not excuse your behavior—especially toward my fiancée." Her gaze flicked to Rex. "You remember the prophecy: all princesses are bound to marry Rex together. Yet five minutes ago you declared, 'Anyone besides my mistress or me who approaches this boy will face my wrath.'" She tilted her head. "Tell me—was that not a challenge?"
"N-No, Your Holiness! I would never challenge you. Please forgive me. If… if you spare me, I'll leave immediately. We can forget all of this, yes?"
Ignara's wings twitched in irritation. "Oh, I'll allow you to leave… but without punishment? After challenging me directly?" Her eyes blazed like twin suns. "NEVER. Words have consequences, Skarethia. And you are about to learn this lesson, in the name of the Allfather and the holy ones above."
She placed a hand over her chest, tracing a sacred sign. Then she whispered an incantation, her voice ringing with divine authority: "Te ipsum in sancto splendore tuo ostende et veritatem iis qui me circumstant irradia… Lux Aeterna (Show yourself in your holy splendor and shine the truth upon those who surround me… Lux Aeterna.
A pulse of holy radiance began to rise around her as the blade hovered effortlessly in the sacred stillness of the cathedral, suspended as though held aloft by the will of the heavens themselves. Its surface is a flawless, opalescent silver-white, the kind of metal that seems less forged and more born—something shaped from condensed moonlight or purified stardust. Veins of radiant blue energy course along its fullness, arranged in elegant knotwork patterns that glow with a gentle, rhythmic heartbeat. Every rune and line of filigree appears carved with divine precision, with no imperfection or wasted stroke.
The guard spreads outward into a pair of stylized golden wings, each feather individually sculpted with meticulous artistry. They curve protectively toward the blade, as though ready to shield its wielder from harm. The gold is warm and lustrous, not reflective like common metal but matte and regal, as if touched by ancient blessings. At the center of the wings sits a large sapphire, cut so perfectly it refracts light into crystalline halos. Within its depths swirl faint wisps of azure flame, suggesting dormant power waiting to be unleashed.
The grip is wrapped in pristine white material—silk, leather, or something even finer—interlaced with gold threading that spirals down with a perfect, symmetrical twist. Its texture looks soft enough for comfort yet firm enough to withstand the strength of a celestial warrior. The pommel is capped with a smaller gem that mirrors the sapphire at the guard, forming a balanced conduit of energy from hilt to tip.
Soft trails of luminous mist drift from the blade's edges, dissipating like morning frost touched by dawn. At times, faint ethereal symbols flicker along the flats of the blade—sigils of protection, purity, and judgment—revealed only when the light strikes at the right angle. The air around it hums with a low, harmonious tone, felt more in the bones than heard by the ear, as if the sword itself is a quiet hymn. Every color is reflected and amplified, making the weapon seem almost too radiant, too sacred to be wielded by mortal hands.
This is no ordinary sword—it is a relic of divine craftsmanship, a weapon meant for chosen champions. A symbol of celestial authority. A blade forged not merely to cut, but to judge, to shield, and to shape destiny.
Ignara then somehow picked up the greatsword with one hand and inspected it, staring at it with a loving, adoring gaze. It is time to punish a wicked, evil sinner, Lux Aeterna. The blade then flashed a more intense holy glow as if to give its confirmation to her statement.
"N-No… I don't deserve this. P-Please, not like this, your holiness… not like this." Skarethia's face twisted in pure terror. She delighted in inflicting pain but couldn't bear the thought of suffering it herself—a cowardly hypocrite to the core. Desperate, she snapped open her wings and tried to flee, hoping to escape the punishment she knew was coming.
Ignara sighed. "Another one trying to run? Do you truly not understand what I am? I am a protector, a messenger… and the goddess who delivers punishment. You cannot escape me. All you're doing is wasting your breath, sinner." She opened her mouth and spoke a sharp incantation: "Vade, funis sacer. Trahe eam deorsum, debilita, et liga." (Go, holy rope. Drag her down, weaken her, and bind her.)
A massive holy rope shot forward, thick as Skarethia's waist, coiling around her and draining her power. When she could no longer resist—barely able to lift herself, let alone flee—Ignara grabbed her and slammed her full force into a nearby school building.
As the dust settled, Skarethia tried to twist the moment. "Fool. You just used my body to crush a human school like ants. You Golds are nothing but self-righteous hypocrites—mere messengers. What right do you have to punish a queen like me, Ignaranthus?"
Ignara summoned more rope to pin Skarethia's wings. "Is that your attempt to make me release you, Skarethia? First, the damage can be easily repaired—either by you or by you. Second, do you really think I'm a fool? I told you I'm the head teacher here. I knew the building was empty. And finally, you spoke without permission. A minor goddess steeped in sin has no right to speak out of turn."
Ignara then took out her blade, and her transformation began with a shimmer along her spine, her golden hair lifting as if caught in a warm breeze. Then the glow intensifies—bright, molten, and unmistakably draconic. Magic gathers beneath her shoulder blades, and with a sharp pulse, two shapes push outward.
Bronze-gold feathers unfurl in cascading waves. First small quills, then long, powerful pinions, until two magnificent wings spread wide behind her. Each feather gleams like polished metal, catching the sunlight and making the room feel too small for her new presence.
As the wings unfurl, her beauty sharpens. Her hair grows longer, richer, and glowing like molten sunlight. Her eyes deepen into vibrant topaz. Even her skin seems to gain a faint, warm luminescence—subtle but undeniably divine.
Then a ripple travels down her back, and a tail extends outward, scales blooming into existence like metallic petals. The golden, serpentine tail grows long and elegant, ending in a sweeping fin of bronze spikes. It moves with natural grace, curling and shifting behind her with fluid precision.
Finally, two curved golden horns rise from her head, framing her face like a regal crown. They enhance her beauty rather than distort it, giving her the bearing of a young dragon princess rather than a transformed student.
With wings spread, tail coiled, and her long hair flowing like sunlight, she looks less like a girl who sprouted draconic traits and more like a celestial dragoness revealing her breathtaking form.
Skarethia scoffed. "Ha! Just because you're gold, you think you can cut through a goddess's scales without even using your humanoid dragon form? Go on—try it. That fake holy sword of yours will shatter on impact. Ahahahahaha!"
Ignara didn't bother arguing. She simply drove her heel into the back of Skarethia's head, slamming her face into the ground and leaving a deep crater. In the same motion, she swung Lux Aeterna and cleanly sliced off one of Skarethia's horns—effortless, precise, and humiliating.
"AAAAAHHH—MY HORN! You—you wretched—how dare you?!" Skarethia thrashed, screaming as the holy ropes tightened and drained her strength even faster. "Oh, don't be dramatic," Ignara said calmly. "It'll grow back eventually—dragons regenerate, remember? Now, does that prove I can cut through your scales like butter?" She tapped her blade against her shoulder. "Let's see… Ah, yes. That gash you left on Ericka's calf. Seems only fair you get one of your own."
Lux Aeterna flashed, carving a deep slash across Skarethia's calf. Ignara smiled. "Oof. That one will leave a scar. "Stop! Your Holiness, please—no more! I'll be good, I swear!" Skarethia sobbed.
Ignara's expression darkened. Without warning, she brought the blade down again, slicing across Skarethia's mid-back. The red queen shrieked, trembling in agony. "What—what was that for, Your Holiness?!"
"For interrupting my thoughts," Ignara said coldly. "Do it again, and I'll strike twice as hard. Now… where was I? Ah, right—you claimed my fiancé belonged to you and Tiamathress alone." She vanished in a flash, reappearing at the end of Skarethia's massive tail. One clean stroke severed a large section of the tip, sending it thudding to the ground. A barrier flared behind her to shield the bystanders from the impact.
Skarethia wailed. "Y-Your Holiness! You cut off my tail tip—it'll take weeks to regrow! "Be grateful," Ignara said with a chilling smile. "For a comment like that, you should've lost an entire wing. The only reason I spared it is that I don't feel like dragging you back to your mistress."
She lowered her blade. "Your punishment is over. Say another word, and I'll take an eye next." "I—I understand, Your Holiness…" Skarethia whimpered. She quickly opened a crimson portal and slithered through it, fleeing before Ignara changed her mind.