Help! Get Me Out of My Sister's Novel-Chapter 555: ’Clap, Clap, Clap.’

"Y-Your Highness!" a knight shouted, his voice cracking with fear as he tried to reach for Florian—but the moment he moved, the crowd behind him erupted again.

"WATCH OUT!"

Stampeding.

Florian flinched as the sound of chaos surged back to life, like a tidal wave crashing through the hall.

The relief everyone felt at seeing Azure was gone—ripped away the second the red dragon’s burning gaze locked onto him.

And Florian? 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

He couldn’t move.

He stood frozen, his wide eyes reflecting the fiery glow pouring through the broken wall.

The dragon’s roar tore through the air like thunder. It leaned back, wings spreading wide, and then—it flew straight toward him.

The screams grew deafening.

’Is it... going to kill me?’ Florian thought numbly, his whole body trembling as his heart pounded painfully against his ribs.

Outside, Azure roared—a desperate, furious sound. The blue dragon hurled himself toward the red beast, claws outstretched. But the red dragon was already too close.

The air split open with a gust so powerful it nearly knocked Florian backward. His hair whipped around his face, the heat burning against his skin.

Only then did his mind start to catch up.

’Fuck—’

He took a step back, his shaking legs finally responding, ready to run—

But he was too late.

The red dragon’s tail crashed into the wall beside him, tearing through stone and marble like paper.

BOOOOM—!!

The entire section of the hall collapsed inward, debris exploding everywhere.

The crowd screamed.

"WE’RE GOING TO DIE!"

"RUN! RUN FASTER, PLEASE—PLEASE, I DON’T WANT TO DIE!"

Florian stumbled as dust and smoke filled his lungs. The air was thick with the sound of chaos—crashing, shrieking, weeping.

And then he heard it.

Crack.

His head jerked slightly, but he couldn’t look back. He couldn’t.

Still, he heard them.

"HELP! HELP!"

Voices. Dozens. Hundreds. Desperate cries buried under the roar of terror and collapsing stone. People were being crushed, trampled beneath each other in the narrow halls.

"I’m sorry! I’m sorry—!" someone sobbed from behind him, a whisper swallowed by the next horrifying crunch.

Florian’s breath trembled. His hands shook violently, but his eyes stayed fixed on the hole in the wall.

The red dragon’s claws clamped against the marble, smoke and embers curling from its nostrils as it leaned closer.

Its glowing red eyes locked on him again.

"Are you here to kill me?" Florian whispered, his voice small, his throat dry. He tried to tune out the horror behind him, the sounds of people dying—anything but the monster in front of him.

The dragon didn’t hesitate.

Its long, barbed tail coiled back, and in one swift movement, it lunged—aiming straight for him.

Florian’s body froze again, but his eyes widened when he saw Azure.

From behind the red dragon, the blue dragon was charging energy—his chest glowing with that fierce, familiar light.

Azure was going to breathe fire.

’Azure, no—!’

He realized it too late. Azure’s blast would hit the red dragon—but it would hit him too.

Still, he stood there.

Better to be burned than pierced through.

He squeezed his eyes shut. His heart hammered wildly, each beat echoing in his ears. He braced himself—for the pain, for the fire, for death.

But instead—

The ground trembled.

Then a blinding explosion erupted from in front of him, the sound so sharp it rattled his skull. The heat vanished. The pressure lifted.

And then—

"Who the fuck do you think you are," a cold voice thundered, "to come here, to my palace..."

Florian’s eyes flew open.

That voice.

That voice.

"...and try to kill Florian?"

Florian’s breath caught in his throat. "Heinz..." he whispered, stunned.

He was there.

Heinz.

Standing in front of him—broad shoulders framed by the chaos, his cloak whipping in the wind, his eyes burning with fury that made even the fire outside seem dim.

One arm was extended, a faint golden light glowing around his hand. The air shimmered—Heinz’s magic, thick and alive, pressing against the remnants of the explosion.

The red dragon was gone—blasted backward into the open night.

Florian didn’t even realize he was crying again.

Behind them, the knights stumbled into the ruined hall.

"Your Majesty! Your Highness, you’re—"

Lancelot’s voice broke off mid-sentence.

Florian turned his head slowly toward the sound—and froze.

Bodies.

Dozens of them.

Servants, nobles, soldiers—all sprawled across the marble. Blood pooled between the cracks, flowing over crushed limbs, torn fabric, broken jewelry.

The smell of iron and smoke filled his lungs.

Florian’s breath hitched. His vision swam. He wanted to scream—but before he could, a hand reached over his shoulder and covered his eyes.

"Don’t look," Heinz whispered, his voice low but shaking.

But it was too late.

He already saw.

And he would never forget.

’Why does it feel like this is my fault?’

The thought cut through the ringing in Florian’s ears, quiet but sharp.

His eyes were still wide, glassy from what he’d seen, but there wasn’t time—no time to breathe, no time to think, no time to feel.

Before he could even take another breath, strong hands grabbed his face—firm but not harsh, grounding him back into reality.

Heinz.

His crimson eyes burned, glowing faintly against the smoke and firelight, yet his voice came out steady, commanding.

"This is not your fault."

Florian blinked, still dazed, his lips trembling as he tried to form words that wouldn’t come.

Heinz’s grip softened just slightly, his thumb brushing against his cheek as his tone deepened. "I know that look of yours, Florian."

Florian’s heart clenched.

He wanted to deny it, to say he wasn’t thinking anything at all—but Heinz saw straight through him, just like always.

"I’m going to deal with this... thing." Heinz’s voice hardened, sharp again as he turned his head toward the gaping hole in the wall where the red dragon loomed outside. "You go with Lancelot to where it’s safe. Don’t worry about everyone else—I already transported them to the main hall."

Transported.

Florian’s breath hitched. His mind clung to that word.

But what about the ones who were dead?

The bodies. The blood. The people he’d seen moments ago—their screams, their apologies, their bones breaking.

They couldn’t have been transported. They couldn’t have been saved.

Heinz was already pushing him back, gentle but insistent, guiding him toward Lancelot and the remaining knights.

"Your Majesty—" Lancelot started, his sword trembling in his hand, but the words died in his throat when—

Clap.

The sound echoed.

Once.

Twice.

A slow, deliberate rhythm that sliced through the smoke-filled silence.

Everyone froze.

The knights shifted defensively, forming a loose circle around Florian as Heinz straightened, his aura flaring with lethal intent.

Then came the voice. Smooth. Mocking. Familiar in the most unsettling way.

"Well, well," it drawled, echoing through the fractured hall, "now this is an interesting development I didn’t expect."

The tone made Florian’s skin crawl. His breath caught as he turned toward the voice—toward the shattered wall.

From the smoke and dust, a figure emerged—standing atop the massive, scarlet-scaled dragon as though he had all the time in the world.

The sight made Florian’s stomach drop.

’Who... is that?’

The figure was cloaked in black and red, his posture calm, confident. The red dragon beneath him shifted, its wings folding slightly as if awaiting command.

’That voice... that aura... I’ve heard it before.’

Heinz’s stance stiffened beside him, his hand already glowing with gathered mana.

"Show yourself," Heinz growled. "Now."

The man chuckled, stepping forward just enough for the moonlight to reveal his face.

And then—

"You..." Lancelot’s voice cracked into a snarl, his entire body tensing as his sword flared with magic. "You bastard..."

Florian’s breath hitched, the pieces snapping together in his mind—too familiar, too impossible.

’How is this... possible...?’

Because standing there, smirking down at them like he owned the world—

Was someone they had all mourned.

Someone who wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.

"Charles?" Florian whispered, the name barely leaving his lips.