Please get me out of this BL novel...I'm straight! novel Chapter 556

'How was this possible?'

No—no, this wasn't possible.

Right?

Florian's mind spun, every thought slipping through his grasp like sand. His chest tightened, the world tilting as he stared at the figure standing atop the red dragon.

It couldn't be.

This had to be some kind of illusion, a trick, another hallucination conjured from chaos and fear.

Or something.

Anything other than this.

But the more he stared, the more he realized it wasn't an illusion at all.

The light, the shadow, the smug smirk—all of it was real.

"I killed you."

Lancelot's voice cut through the air, raw and hoarse, trembling with fury and disbelief. His grip on his sword was so tight his knuckles turned white.

"I… fucking killed you. How—how are you here?"

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Even Heinz, ever-composed, looked unsettled. He flicked a glance between Lancelot and the man standing on the dragon, brows furrowed deeply, his posture tense. His hand twitched slightly, gathering mana as a precaution.

"Who's this?" Heinz asked, his voice low, dark, commanding.

The question hung in the air like a blade.

And then—

Charles laughed.

It wasn't a soft laugh. It wasn't the kind that carried warmth or humor.

It was loud, sharp, echoing through the ruined hall like shattering glass.

"Forgive me, Your Majesty," Charles said with a mocking bow, his tone dripping venomous amusement. "I forgot—you weren't there to save the little prince. So, only Mr. Knight here knows who I am… and maybe a few of those Arcaniors you like to keep around."

His smirk deepened, eyes glinting with sick delight as he tilted his head slightly.

"And of course…"

Florian froze when Charles' gaze slid to him.

It was piercing.

Unrelenting.

Hungry.

As if the man could see right through him, through his body, through his soul.

Charles' lips curled into a slow, cruel smile. "The lovely little prince who fucked everything up."

Florian's breath hitched. The words stabbed straight through his chest.

And then—

"How's Levi, by the way?"

The name.

The name hit like a blade to the stomach.

Florian's blood ran cold. His stomach twisted, nausea rising up his throat as his mind flashed back—memories he'd buried under layers of guilt and exhaustion now clawing their way to the surface.

Levi's face. Levi's laugh. The sound of the last breath that left him.

Charles' smirk widened when he saw Florian's expression falter.

"Oh, right," he said, voice low, mocking. "Didn't he die because of you? I heard you even went to check on his sister. I'm sure you saw what kind of situation you put—"

He didn't get to finish.

Because in an instant, the air cracked.

A sound like thunder tore through the hall, followed by a violent burst of wind that ripped through the shattered walls and sent debris scattering like dust in a storm.

Charles stumbled a step back, his smirk faltering.

For the first time, the mockery in his tone vanished—replaced by the sharp, unmistakable awareness that something far greater than his arrogance had just awakened.

Florian's breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded so loudly he could feel it in his fingertips.

Because Heinz had moved.

He didn't even see when—just the after.

One second Heinz was standing still. The next, the air was humming around him.

And he wasn't smiling anymore.

The entire hall seemed to hold its breath.

The red dragon outside stirred, responding to its master's sudden shift.

Its massive wings spread, fire crackling between its jaws as it prepared to defend Charles.

But Heinz didn't give it the chance.

"Oh, now I know you."

Heinz's voice was low—steady, but edged with something dangerous, something that vibrated through the air like the growl of a storm before it breaks.

Blood-red aura poured from his body, slow at first, then spilling out in waves. The glow rippled like liquid light, painting the fractured walls in crimson.

He took one step forward.

And yet, Heinz stood there, unmoving.

Unbothered.

Even as the red dragon's shadow swallowed the palace whole.

He raised his gaze toward Charles and the creature, crimson eyes glinting beneath the haze of smoke and moonlight.

His expression was unreadable, but power bled from him with every breath.

"And now that I do know you," Heinz said, his voice echoing through the ruin like a final judgment, "I hope you don't regret it."

He cracked his hands once—casual, almost human—and the air exploded.

A pressure so sharp it stole the breath from Florian's lungs rippled through the hall. The knights staggered back. Cracks splintered through the marble floor.

And then—

From beneath the red dragon, the sky burst open.

Azure erupted from the clouds like a sapphire comet. A streak of blinding blue tore upward, slicing through the smoke, the heat, the chaos. His wings flared wide, shimmering with raw, pulsing mana.

The impact was deafening.

Azure slammed into the red dragon's underbelly with enough force to shake the heavens themselves. The sound that followed wasn't just a roar—it was a shattering of worlds.

The Diamond Palace trembled violently. Pillars cracked, glass exploded, and the chandeliers above clinked like dying stars before crashing to the ground.

Florian staggered, shielding his face from the storm of dust and light. His eyes stung, but he refused to look away.

Up in the sky, Charles struggled to steady himself atop the dragon's back. His cloak whipped wildly around him, the smirk long gone, replaced by a cold, calculating glare.

Heinz didn't wait.

He moved.

In a blur of red and black, he launched himself upward—his aura trailing behind him like burning wings.

The air screamed around him.

In one seamless, fluid motion, he landed atop Azure's neck. The dragon roared in response, recognizing the weight, the magic, the familiar presence of his master.

The two became one—king and dragon.

The sky itself seemed to split open before them.

Blue and red light collided above the palace, dancing and clashing in streaks of energy that painted the night with impossible color. It was beautiful—and utterly terrifying.

Florian stood frozen at the edge of the ruined hall, his body trembling under the weight of what he was witnessing.

The glow of their magic reflected in his eyes, painting him in hues of fire and ice.

His breath came out shallow, his heart aching with something he couldn't name—fear, awe, grief, all tangled into one unbearable knot.

"They're…" Florian whispered, voice cracking against the wind. "...really going to fight."