Evil Dragon, Without a Princess, I Had to Transform Myself!-Chapter 60 : The Absurdity of a Lifetime

The hall was on fire.
Flames licked the walls and floor. Several figures stood at the periphery of the inferno, their silhouettes against the firelight resembling lost souls in hell.
A few guards raised their swords in futile combat against the rogue magic puppets, while nobles screamed in panic—no one could remain calm in such chaos.
Except for Patunasankus.
Amidst the grinding of heavy gears, a three-meter-tall magic puppet twisted its torque, raising a greatsword smeared with gore and filth high into the air. Directly beneath it stood a seemingly frail girl, frozen in place as if utterly terrified by the hellish machine no different from a demon.
As the black iron blade descended toward her, Patunasankus showed no reaction.
She was merely wondering what Princess Latifa's frightened expression might look like.
Rifling through her memories, Patunasankus realized she'd never seen the Princess wear a fearful expression—the girl always seemed cheerful.
The evil dragon could only imagine her smiling face, so radiant it could banish loneliness at any moment. She always appeared that way.
Patunasankus couldn't picture her crying or afraid at all. An expression never seen, impossible to recreate even with the brushstrokes of memory.
Fear?
Such emotions didn't exist for an evil dragon, let alone the ability to display them through subtle facial expressions.
Patunasankus tilted her head slightly.
To her eyes, the magic puppet's movements unfolded in slow motion. Feigning luck to casually dodge such a vertical slash would be child's play.
Just as she prepared to do so, Loranhir unexpectedly yanked her hand, pulling her backward.
The puppet's greatsword cleaved empty air.
This actually surprised Patunasankus slightly.
In her estimation, it would be normal for the incompetent hero to freeze in terror.
"There's something I need to tell the Princess later," Loranhir declared with uncharacteristic resolve, speaking in a tone Patunasankus had never heard before. "But first I need to get you to safety."
The evil dragon remained impassive, completely indifferent to the matter.
The intended confession wasn't hard to guess—likely another declaration of wanting to flee.
Fine. If she wanted to run, let her.
Patunasankus couldn't care less.
As Loranhir strategized how to handle the encroaching magic puppets, Elaphia suddenly positioned herself before several of the golems.
"Leave this to me," Elaphia inhaled deeply, adopting a combat stance. "Damn old bastard. Couldn't you just die quietly instead of pulling this crap? Perfect timing to settle old and new scores together."
Naturally, the vampire thrall valued her life—she wouldn't die easily before completing her revenge.
The approaching puppets still fell within her capabilities. The priority was ensuring the hero escorted the princess to safety.
Should complications arise, Elaphia possessed unique arts to disengage.
The vampire thrall absolutely couldn't bear to see the princess harmed. Not even a little.With her saying that, Loranhir naturally turned and ran toward the exit with the princess without hesitation. The entire mansion was ablaze, the flames licking highest at the beams, as if they might collapse at any moment. Thick smoke filled the air, and waves of heat made it hard to breathe.
Patunasankus, however, was unfazed. An evil dragon who relished swimming in lava for exercise, she cared little for the temperature.
Loranhir, on the other hand, was choking badly but still pulled Patunasankus desperately toward the exit. The heat waves turned into wind, roaring in their ears.
Patunasankus heard the groaning of the roof above, unable to bear the weight any longer, and the next moment, the cracked beams came crashing down.
She calculated the trajectory—if they kept moving at their current speed, the beam would likely land right on her head.
The evil dragon had no desire to be pinned under a pile of burning wood, roasted alive while pretending to be helpless and calling for rescue. The mere thought of such a scene made her deeply uncomfortable.
So, the moment the beam gave way, Patunasankus decisively shoved Loranhir forward.
Good. That simplified things.
The evil dragon nodded in satisfaction.
Loranhir stumbled, then watched in horror as the collapsing beam instantly blocked the path between them, flames raging fiercely and completely cutting off her escape.
"Ah—!"
Loranhir tried to lift the fallen beam, but the searing heat blistered her hands. Still, she gritted her teeth and strained to raise it.
Damn it, why did she always end up in situations like this?
Patunasankus stood on the other side of the obstacle, but then she heard the synchronized whirring of gears behind her.
Loranhir couldn’t believe her eyes—countless magic puppets emerged, swarming toward the princess from all directions.
Patunasankus casually surveyed the surrounding magic puppets.
"Don’t worry, I’ll be fine," the evil dragon said, glancing back at Loranhir. But almost as soon as the words left her lips, the last beam collapsed, thick smoke completely obscuring their view of each other.
Loranhir clutched her head as a sharp, splitting pain surged through her skull, as though something deep within had awakened.
Her teeth clenched tightly.
She wanted to bite down on the absurdity of her life and the helplessness that had surfaced once again.
Darkness filled her vision, her heart pounding violently amid the roar of flames, like the tolling of a bell.
In the blackness, a pair of dim golden eyes slowly cracked open.
As Loranhir’s cries faded completely from the other side, the evil dragon finally turned slowly, her pupils reflecting the countless magic puppets.
They adjusted their torque, mechanically advancing toward her.
Patunasankus stretched lazily, her right hand curling into a claw as dark scales faintly spread across her skin.
"There’s one thing you all need to understand," she said coldly.
Her golden eyes flashed brilliantly as she raised her hand, unleashing the dragonfire burning in her veins.
The fury of the inferno seemed ready to engulf her enemies in the next instant.
"It’s not that I’m trapped here with you," she murmured. "It’s that you’re trapped here with me."