Chapter 434: Flying Skull

"Hmm, it's still too dark, that's the issue!" Erathia pondered, examining the now pitiful-looking Delilah. If one ignored her skin color, Delilah, as the drow queen, definitely ranked among the top in terms of beauty.

"Even if she were fair-skinned, I wouldn't be interested," Muria replied, his lips twitching.

"Do you have a problem with your body?" Erathia, frowning, scrutinized Muria seriously. "That shouldn't be the case. Your lineage is perfect; there shouldn't be any issues."

"There's no problem," Muria responded, his face darkening instantly. Erathia had dared to question his virility.

"Since there's no issue, then why aren't you interested in this elven queen? As a normal draconic being, this isn't typical."

"Because she's a drow," Muria said, glancing at Queen Delilah with a hint of disgust. Compared to the morally upright forest elves, the private lives of the drow are incredibly chaotic.

They are almost indiscriminate in their choice of partners, engaging with not only their own kind but also minotaurs, duergar, and barbarians—any male that fits their size. Anyone who knows a bit about these fallen elves would be disgusted, and naturally, Muria had no interest in this so-called elven queen.

Who knows what sort of mess this elven queen has been involved with; their mating preferences aren't narrower than those of the chromatic dragons, who are known to spare not even beholders or displacer beasts in their brutality.

"Tsk, you actually have that kind of psychological cleanliness," Erathia noted Muria's preferences without surprise, given that gold and silver dragons typically practice monogamy—a rarity among dragonkind.

"But she's slightly different from the drow you understand," Erathia said, eyeing Delilah strangely. "She is still a virgin."

"Hmm?" Muria sniffed, then took another serious look at Delilah's body and surprisingly confirmed that Delilah indeed was a virgin.

Detecting by scent, a unique ability possessed by most dragons, allows them to judge the sexual history of the opposite sex based on their scent and physical form, including whether they have participated in reproduction and how frequently.

"Truly unusual," Muria remarked, though he wasn't too surprised. In a race with vast numbers, the emergence of individuals who deviate from the norm wasn't strange. "But even so, I'm not interested."

"She's not my type," Muria thought for a moment before adding that he indeed had no particular affection for those with pitch-black skin, regardless of their attractive features.

"Alright, then let's drop it," Erathia said, and amid Delilah's longing gaze, she cast a sealing spell to preserve Delilah's still vigorous headless body.

"We should suppress the regenerative ability; keep it in its current state." In front of Muria, Erathia began to prepare Delilah's head, inserting seals into the bleeding wounds to stop the flesh that seemed eager to regrow a new body.

This sealing made Delilah's eyes briefly show deep-seated hatred, but it quickly faded to a numb expression.

Once the proud queen of the Medis kingdom, in less than a day, her realm had collapsed, and she was reduced to such a sorry state.

Having lost her body, her power was greatly diminished. Without the ability to regenerate, she was forever trapped in this wretched form. But better to live poorly than die well, a principle Delilah understood well—life meant hope, and a chance to start anew.

"Let's see if you can fly!" Having completed the sealing, Erathia gently tossed Delilah's beautiful head into the sky. As expected, Delilah's head hovered in the air.

"Not bad, Delilah, you can try to run away now," Erathia encouraged, her eyes watching the floating head with white hair.

"Do you think I'm an idiot, Erathia?" Delilah's head rotated, her gaze coldly fixed on Erathia. "Do you think I don't recognize the seals you've implanted in my body? The moment I move a certain distance away from you, the seals will activate, subjecting me to the punishment you've set. Do you think I'd subject myself to that willingly?"

"Smart, but it's of no use," Erathia grinned charmingly, her demeanor youthful and carefree as she flicked her finger lightly, a spark landing on Delilah's forehead, propelling her away.

"Ah!" A scream pierced the air as the beautiful head moved about a hundred meters away from Erathia, where brilliant thunder exploded and crackled, and scorching dragonfire blazed.

"Pitiful," Muria mused

, feeling a twinge of sympathy for the head that hurriedly flew back to Erathia to escape the pain. From a queen to this—truly a pitiful fate.

"Now you know how far you can go before triggering the restriction," Erathia's smile was gentle as she looked at Delilah, who now appeared utterly miserable, eliciting a pang of pity. But those who ascended to thrones often did so over mountains of corpses.

Moreover, as a queen who unified the drow in the dark realm, Rose likely didn't know how much blood her descendant had on her hands.

"I know," Delilah replied, her eyes dim after experiencing the seals within her head, suddenly feeling a loss of faith in her future, almost driven to end her own life.

"Quite ruthless," Muria internally exclaimed, recognizing another, more genuine side of his mother. However, he wasn't put off; such ruthlessness was necessary to survive in this cruel world. "But that's how one should treat enemies."

...

The war concluded. After the avatar of Rose, the Spider Queen, was defeated by the Titan Alek, the Medis kingdom was essentially annihilated. With Queen Delilah beheaded by the Titan, the morale of countless drow elves was crushed.

Legendary drow attempted to escape but were quickly torn from the sky by ancient dragons and then sealed and subdued. A living legend has many uses, far more valuable than a dead one, and Muria wasn't the first to consider using a legend as a resource.

With the capacity to dream big and turn those dreams into reality, the world of Erathia was not short of beings capable of such feats. Not just legends—even true gods and epic beings have been used as perpetual motion devices by ruthless individuals like the Titan clan's Mechanos King Osiris.

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