Volume 12 : Chapter 7 – THE CENTER OF THE CIRCLE

Krrrrrr—krrr—krrrrrr…

The cicadas screamed like they were being fried alive by the sun itself.

And honestly? I felt the same.

My school uniform clung to my back, soaked through, each step heavier than the last as I sprinted down the empty road. The sun burned straight through my skull, like it was trying to melt my brain.

“If only I hadn’t missed the school bus…” I muttered under my breath.

I slowed down, panting, wiping sweat from my eyes—

—and froze.

That red signboard.  I’d seen it before.

“…No way.”

I turned in a slow circle.

The road stretched endlessly in both directions. No people—just rows of identical shops and signboards. Heat waves distorted everything like a mirage.

“I’m… lost.”

The words came out dry, like my throat had already given up. A gust of hot wind slapped against me as if laughing at my predicament.

I staggered toward the nearest patch of shade I could find and practically collapsed into it. A narrow alleyway, barely wide enough to breathe in, but it blocked the sunlight—and that was enough.

I leaned against the wall, dragging in a shaky breath, fanning my face with one hand while tilting my bottle upside down.

One drop.

Two.

That was it.

“Great…” I muttered, letting out a long, tired sigh.

Grrr…

My eyes snapped open.

Grrr… grrr…

I stiffened.

The sound was low—rough.

My eyes snapped toward the source: a large cardboard box sitting beside an overflowing garbage bin. It was sealed and tightly taped on all sides.

And… it was moving.

The box trembled slightly, the sound coming from inside growing clearer.

Grrr…

My chest tightened.

“No way…”

I didn’t hesitate.

Dropping my bag to the ground, I rummaged through it with shaking hands and pulled out the first sharp thing I could find—a metal compass from my instrument box.

“Hold on…!”

I lunged forward and drove the sharp tip into the cardboard, tearing across it in one swift motion.

RIP—

The box split open.

The flaps burst outward on their own as a dense wave of hot, stale air rushed out, hitting me straight in the face.

“Ugh—!”

I stumbled back, coughing as a musty, suffocating smell filled my lungs. For a moment, I couldn’t see anything.

Then the air cleared.

Inside the box, something small shifted.

A tiny brown cat stretched weakly, its limbs trembling as if it had been trapped for far too long.

“…Hey…” I crouched down, staring at it.

Slowly, it lifted its head. Two sharp, needle-like black eyes met mine. For a moment, we just… looked at each other.

“…Seriously?” I whispered, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Not even a polite meow ‘thank you’? I just saved you, you know.”

Nothing. The cat didn’t even blink.

A strange sadness settled in my chest. Now, even a cat refuses to talk to me.

My gaze drifted away, scanning the empty alley again. No footsteps. No voices. No signs of anyone who might’ve left it there.

I exhaled, long and tired.

“I’m lost… and now I’m talking to a cat.”

For a moment, I looked back at it, a tiny flicker of hope rising in my chest.

“Why couldn’t you have been a dog?” I muttered. “At least you could’ve helped me find my way back home.”

The words had barely left my mouth—

When the cat moved.

Fast. Too fast for me to avoid.

“Wha—?!”

The cat lunged straight at my face.

“AHHH—!”

I pried the cat off my face, wincing as its tiny fangs clung stubbornly to my skin.

“Ow—! Let go—!”

With a final tug, it dropped back, landing on the ground with a sharp, offended mrrrow!

I stared at it, breathing hard.

“First, my classmates dump all their cleaning duties on me… and now even a cat thinks it can bully me?”

The cat didn’t care. It just crouched there, fur puffed, back arched, eyes sharp—ready to pounce again if I got too close.

“…What am I supposed to do with you?” I muttered.

Taking it home wasn’t an option. My uncle and aunt were too strict.

Knowing that I brought in a stray animal, they wouldn’t even let me step past the gate.

I could just leave it.

I’d already freed it from the box. That should’ve been enough.

Right?

My fingers tightened slightly, and that’s when I saw it.

A smear of red.

“…Huh?”

I raised my hand, noticing the faint streak of blood across my fingers. My gaze followed the trail—

—back to the cat.

I looked closer.

There it was—a deep gash running along its small brown body. The fur around it was darkened with dried blood, and tiny shards of glass were embedded inside the wound, glinting faintly under the dim light.

My chest tightened.

“…So that’s why. You must be in a lot of pain.”

The cat’s body trembled, its earlier aggression suddenly making sense.

“…Tch.”

I clicked my tongue, looking away for a second. I didn’t like where this was going.

I really didn’t.

But my body had already decided before my mind could argue.

“Fine. You win.”

I pulled out a towel from my bag and crouched down slowly.

“Don’t scratch me again, okay?”

The cat hissed.

“Yeah, yeah. I get it. But I need to help you.”

I moved fast before it could react—wrapping it securely in the towel. It struggled, of course. Twisting, scratching, protesting with sharp cries—but I held on.

“Just… stay still!”

And before I could think twice about it—

I ran.

Back onto the burning road, clutching the wriggling bundle tightly against my chest.

I didn’t know if I was going the right way. My legs screamed in protest, my lungs burned, but I didn’t slow down.

I just needed to get home.

If I could just find my way back—

I dodged a broken patch of road, nearly slipping into an open sewer. Then a speeding bike brushed past me seconds later.

My grip tightened around the bundled cat as I pushed forward, heart racing.

Come on… come on…

Then—

I saw it.

An old man frozen mid-dance, one arm raised gracefully toward the sky. The other was holding some kind of weird musical instrument, which I never found out about.

Relief hit me like a wave.

“There you are…”

One of the statues, I’d memorized as a landmark all around the city.

My own little north star.

“…I’m saved. So, I only need to take a left down this road, and I should be home.”

I didn’t stop running.

…

By the time I reached home, I was drenched, breathless, and barely holding myself together. Slipping inside quietly, I shut the door behind me and peeked from the edge of the wall to check the hall.

“Good… all clear.”

My aunt never really paid attention to when I came back anyway—but that didn’t mean I could afford to get careless.

I rushed to my room, slid the door shut, and slipped straight into the washroom, locking it behind me. Turning on the tap, I let the bathtub fill with warm water, the steady sound echoing softly in the cramped space as I grabbed an antiseptic bottle and a pair of tweezers.

“…I hope this doesn’t take too long.”

Taking a breath, I unwrapped the towel.

The cat sprang out instantly, panicked by the sudden light and space.

“Hey—!”

It tried to bolt, but I caught it just in time, holding it firmly despite its frantic struggling. Its sharp eyes locked onto the tweezers in my hand.

It knew. And it didn’t like it.

It thrashed harder, claws digging into my skin, but I tightened my grip.

“I’m not letting you run off like that. It’s not like I want to do this. I don’t care if you hate me for it.”

Slowly, carefully—

I reached for the first shard.

“…Just bear with it.”

The moment I pulled it out—

The cat let out a piercing scream and sank its teeth straight into my little finger.

“—!!”

My whole body jerked.

Pain shot up my arm, but I clamped my mouth shut.

Don’t scream.

If my aunt heard—

I bit down hard on my lip, forcing the sound back, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.

“…I said… stay still…”

My hands trembled, but I didn’t stop. One shard after another, I continued with the exercise.

Each time, the cat fought—biting, scratching—and each time, I endured.

Blood—its and mine—dripped into the tub, thin streams spiraling down the drain.

“…There.”

Breathing heavily, I cleaned the wound, gently pouring antiseptic over it. The cat flinched but was too exhausted to fight anymore.

“Almost done…” I said, then poured a bucket filled with cold water over it.

I wrapped a clean cloth around its body, securing the bandage as carefully as I could.

“…You’ll be fine now.”

A few minutes later.

Click.

The washroom door slid open slightly.

A small figure stepped out.

It walked forward, slow and steady, head held high. Like some tiny royal inspecting its domain. Its fur now clean and dry, it stood slightly puffed, giving it an oddly dignified look.

I let out a tired breath and leaned back against the wall, utterly drained.

When I looked down, I couldn’t help but laugh weakly.

Bite marks ran from my fingers up to my arms. Scratches crossed my face like messy battle scars.

“…I am exhausted…”

I let out a weak breath.

Then, realizing—

“…Hey. Wait for me.”

I pushed myself up and hurried after the cat.

“Don’t just walk off like that!”

Catching up, I scooped it back into my arms before it could disappear somewhere else.

“Seriously, why do you have to be so much trouble…”

Wrapping it in another towel, I held it close and moved quickly—quietly—toward the basement.

My room.

“…You’re staying here for now.” I glanced down at it. “…Got it?”

The cat didn’t answer. But for some reason, it didn’t struggle either.

When I pulled the towel away, a completely different cat sat on my study table.

A clean, soft brown cat, its fur fluffed and faintly glistening under the dim bulb. The grime was gone, the blood washed away—what remained was something almost… pretty.

For a moment, I just stared.

“You finally look decent.”

It ignored me.

Its wide, dark eyes scanned the room cautiously, taking everything in—the cracked walls, the stacked books, the single flickering light. And then, without even turning its head properly, it let out a low snarl, as if the entire place had offended its existence.

“Hey,” I said, raising a brow. “I know it’s small. But this is what you get.”

I took a step closer, slowly lifting my hand to grab it—

In a flash, it darted to the corner, pressing itself against the wall as if I was about to kill.

“I get it.” I lowered my hand immediately, taking a step back.

For a second, neither of us moved. Then I scratched the back of my head, letting out a quiet sigh.

“You know…” I muttered, glancing at her. “You’re abandoned too, right?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“…So don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

Then—

As if it had understood what I said, the tension in its body eased. Slowly, cautiously, it stepped away from the wall… and hopped back onto the table.

A moment later, it curled up.

And just like that—

It lay down, finally choosing to rest.

Dinner that night went normal.

I sat at the table, hands covered in bandages, faint scratches still stinging across my face—

And yet, my uncle and aunt didn’t even glance at me. They talked and ate.

Like nothing was wrong. Like I wasn’t sitting right there.

“…Thanks,” I muttered quietly to myself.

For once, their indifference felt like a blessing.

Later, when no one was looking, I quietly opened the fridge and slipped out a small bowl of milk and a piece of fish.

The moment I set the food down—

The cat devoured it.

“Hey—hey, slow down!” I said, startled. “You’ll choke on the bones!”

I stepped closer.

Big mistake.

SWIPE—!

“Ah—!”

Another clean scratch across my face. I stumbled back, clutching my cheek.

“…You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It sat there like nothing happened, licking its paw.

And just like that—

The day ended. With just a few extra scratches added to my face.

…

The days passed.

He got better and better. Stronger too.

The wound healed little by little, and I made sure to check on him every day, even if it meant risking my fingers each time.

Thankfully, no one ever came down to the basement.

My uncle and aunt never bothered to. And my little cousin was away at boarding school.

So, for now, this space was ours.

While I was at school, he would have the entire room to himself. And in the evenings, I stayed with him.

Though “together” might’ve been too generous a word.

He still wasn’t friendly.

Not even close.

Sometimes, while I studied, it would quietly hop onto my desk. Or my shoulder.

Leaning in, staring intently at my books as if it could actually understand what I was reading.

But the moment I tried to touch her—

Scratch.

Every time.

“…Why won’t you let me pet you?” I snapped one day, pulling my hand back again. “It’s not like I can keep you forever.”

The words hung in the air.

He froze.

Then, without a sound, it turned away and climbed up onto the shelf in the corner.

Curling up and avoiding me.

“…Not again.” I sighed, running a hand through my hair.

But it was true. I couldn’t keep her here. Not forever.

If my uncle found out…

There wouldn’t just be one abandoned creature in this house.

I looked up at him.

“…But I still have a chance,” I said, trying to sound confident. “I can find you a new home. So don’t worry.”

He looked down at me. That sharp, unreadable gaze.

As if asking—Can you?

“…Yeah. I can ask people at school.”

His eyes narrowed slightly. As if this time saying: Do I even talk to anyone at school?

“…Tch.” I looked away.

“…Then… a pet shop maybe?”

He didn’t move. But somehow, his expression looked even more unimpressed.

This time, saying: they won’t take a half-injured stray like me.

“…Fine.” I threw my hands up, for now out of ideas.

“If you don’t like that either, I’ll just put up posters around the city! Someone will definitely adopt you. Someone better than me.”

He turned and yawned as if he was no longer interested in what I had to say. And it went back to sleep.

“…How rude.”

I stared at him for a moment. Then exhaled.

“…Fine. I’ll do it myself.”

I pushed my chair back and stood up, grabbing paper and crayons from my desk.

“If no one’s going to help, I’ll just make the posters myself.”

I sat down and began sketching with the sleeping cat as my model.

Trying to capture his soft fur. The way it puffed up when it got annoyed…

…his small, stubborn face.

And the small two slit cut beneath his right eye.

It reminded me of the greatest pirate of the sea who went searching for the greatest treasure in the world.

“…That suits you,” I murmured, a small smile forming.  “…Churo.”

The name slipped out naturally.

…

The next morning—

I woke up to something I didn’t expect.

Churo was sleeping. Right on top of the stack of adoption posters, I had spent all night making.

I blinked, still half-asleep.

“…Well, you finally decided to come down.”

For a moment, I just watched him.

His small body was curled up neatly, rising and falling gently as if nothing in the world mattered. His guard completely down.

A small grin tugged at my lips. Maybe this was my chance.

Carefully—very carefully—I peeled the blanket off myself and slipped out of bed. Step by step, I tiptoed toward the table. My eyes never left him.

I leaned closer, extending my hand slowly, cautiously, like I was approaching some wild creature that could explode at any second.

My breath caught in my throat.

“…Don’t blame me,” I whispered. “It’s your fault, you never let me pet you.”

Closer. And closer. My fingers hovered just above his fur.

Then—

I shut my eyes. And let my hand fall.

Soft.

I knew it would be.

But—

“…Huh?”

My eyes snapped open.

Warm.

No… hot.

Too hot. My hand jerked back instinctively.

“What…?”

I placed it on him again, this time more firmly. There was no doubt. Churo was burning up.

A cold wave of panic rushed through me.

“Churo…?”

I grabbed him gently, shaking him a little.

“Hey. Open your eyes.”

There was no response. His breathing was uneven and ragged, too.

“Churo—wake up.”

I shook him again, harder this time, but his body just swayed limply in my hands.

“…No. No, no, no.” My heart started racing. “Right—I’ll take you to a vet.”

The words came out fast, desperate.

Then—I remembered I had my exams today.

For a brief second, everything went silent. Should I…

I clenched my jaw.

There wasn’t even a real choice. I shut my eyes for a moment.

Then I moved. I grabbed my school bag, flipped it upside down, and books scattered across the floor without a second thought.

I placed Churo inside, wrapping him lightly so he wouldn’t get hurt.

“I’ll get you there.”

I held the bag between my hands, making sure not to move it too harshly.

I had no bike or a cycle. Just my legs.

“…I’ll run.”

I rushed out of my room, down the stairs, and straight to the door. My fingers fumbled slightly as I grabbed the keys, my mind already racing ahead—

“Come on… come on…”

The key slid into the lock.

“Where are you going?” A voice called out from behind me.

My body froze. I turned—

My uncle stood behind me, with a newspaper in hand.

Why today?

Why was he awake today of all days? He usually slept till noon.

“…N-nothing,” I stammered, forcing my voice steady as I turned back toward the door.

Just one more second. Please go.

“Wait.”

That single word—

It pinned me in place. I couldn’t move. Because in this house, his word held absolute power.

I swallowed. “…Yes?”

He stepped closer, his gaze narrowing as it fell on the bag pressed against my chest.

“What are you carrying there?”

My grip tightened instinctively.

“Nothing—just—books—”

Before I could finish, he reached forward and pulled the bag open.

“…No—!”

Churo’s small, feverish body lay inside, barely moving.

“…What is this?” His voice dropped, cold and sharp. “A stray cat in my house?”

I felt my throat go dry.

“D-did you bring this in?” He asked again.

“…Y—yes.” The word barely came out.

His expression hardened instantly. “Throw it out.”

The words hit harder than I expected.

“…It’s sick,” I said, my voice trembling. “I need to take it to the vet.”

“Why waste your time on a street animal?” He scoffed.

My hands clenched. “It’ll die,” I said, quieter now. “If I don’t—”

“Then let it. You have an exam today,” he continued, folding the newspaper calmly. “Or have you forgotten that too?”

“I haven’t—”

“Then go.”

His eyes locked onto mine.

“Throw it out. And go to school.” This time he said louder.

My chest tightened. “…I can’t.”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“…What did you say?”

My heart pounded violently against my ribs. But I didn’t look away.

“I said… I can’t.” My voice shook. “…I’m taking it to the vet.” I tightened my grip on the bag. “…Please.”

A single word. Barely above a whisper.

But it carried everything I had. Because I wasn’t asking for myself. I was asking for Churo.

“Help him. Or he will die.”

My uncle didn’t respond. So, I kept going.

“I’ll do anything,” I said. “I’ll listen to everything you say. I’ll… I’ll stop bringing him here—just—please… take him to a doctor.”

The hallway went quiet.

For a moment, all I could hear was my own heartbeat—and the faint, uneven breathing from inside the bag.

My uncle sighed. “Agh…”

He pressed his fingers against his temple like I’d just handed him a headache.

“…Fine.”

I looked up. “What?”

“You have school, don’t you?” he said flatly. “Leave the cat to me. I’ll take it to a vet.”

I blinked. “…Really?”

Something about how easily he said it made my stomach twist.

“Yes,” he said, holding out his hand. “Now go. I won’t say it a second time.”

I hesitated just for a second. Then I handed him the bag.

“Go to school,” he repeated.

I don’t remember getting ready.

My hands moved on their own—uniform, books, filling up an old bag—everything blurred together.

As I stepped out of the house, a strange feeling lingered in my chest.

He’ll be fine.

I told myself that over and over.

When I come back… Churo will be better.

…

By evening, I was already running.

The moment I reached the house, I pushed the door open with a loud bang and rushed inside, my breath uneven, my heart racing ahead of me.

“Churo…!”

My voice echoed through the main hall. No response.

I darted from one room to another—the living room, the kitchen—empty.

“…Maybe… maybe they’re still at the vet.”

Yeah. That had to be it.

I turned and hurried toward the back door, my fingers trembling as I pushed it open.

“Maybe Aunt knows—”

The backyard greeted me with silence. Just the faint rustling of dry leaves in the evening air.

“…Huh?”

Something felt off. My eyes slowly shifted to the open door of the outside storeroom.

And then near the gate. My bag was lying there.

“…Churo?”

My steps slowed, each one heavier than the last.

The world around me felt distant… muffled… like I was walking underwater.

The bag didn’t move. Didn’t shake.

“…Hey… Churo…”

I crouched down, my fingers hesitating before reaching out.

“…Stop messing around.”

I touched it. And it was cold. A chill ran through my fingertips instantly.

“…No…”

My hands moved faster now, unzipping the bag—

Inside, curled up. And still.

“…Churo?”

I reached out, touching his head. It was icy. Not burning like before.

Just—cold.

“…No… no, no…” My voice cracked, barely a whisper now.

“Wake up…” I shook him gently. Then harder. “Hey… wake up…!”

There was no movement. Not even a sound.

“…Churo…”

My vision blurred with a watery film forming over my eyes.

And then—

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I flinched, and it tightened.

“That stupid cat,” my uncle’s voice came from behind me, casual… almost annoyed. “It bit me when I tried to take it to the vet.”

My fingers clenched around the bag.

“I was worried it might carry some disease,” he continued, as if explaining something trivial. “It’s a stray, after all. So, I had to rush to the doctor myself.”

My ears rang, but I continued listening with my head down.

“And when I came back,” he went on, completely unfazed, “it was already dead.”

His words made little sense to me. My mind felt heavy and sick inside.

“I kept it out here,” he added. “Didn’t want parasites or anything spreading inside my house.”

His grip tightened slightly on my shoulder.

“You understand, right?”

I didn’t turn back. Didn’t look at him. Didn’t say anything for a moment.

“…Yes.” The word left my mouth quietly.

I picked up the bag, holding it close to my chest. It was lighter than before.

“If you’re planning to bury it,” he added, waving his bandaged hand dismissively, “do it far away. I don’t want to see that rodent again.”

“…Yes, uncle.” My voice didn’t feel like mine.

I stood up and walked.

…

I don’t remember how long I walked, or how far—only that I eventually stopped beneath an old, abandoned bridge

A place no one came to, a place no one would see.

The ground was rough, uneven beneath my knees, but I didn’t hesitate.

I knelt down and started digging with my bare hands. The dirt scraped against my skin, nails breaking, fingers stinging—but I didn’t feel it.

Not really.

“…Sorry…” The word slipped out softly as I placed the bag into the shallow grave.

“…But it will be much warmer inside.”

I couldn’t even tell whether what I was saying made any sense.  But it was one thing I could have asked for, Churo.

I covered him slowly. Like he might wake up if I were too rough.

Like he was just… sleeping.

By the time the last layer of dirt settled—

The sky slowly darkened, and rain began to fall—soft at first, then growing heavier with each passing moment.

Droplets fell onto the freshly dug soil, darkening it, pressing it down.

I sat there, staring. My hands rested on the mound of earth.

Cold. Just like him.

The rain soaked through my clothes, my hair, my skin—but I didn’t move.

“…I shouldn’t have trusted him… Why did I trust someone else to save you?”

Silence answered me.

Only the sound of rain.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

“You deserved a chance to live. But because it was me who helped you, I took that chance away. Maybe if I had left you back there in that box, someone else might have freed you and taken much better care of you. It’s all because of me you are dead.”

My fingers slowly curled into fists. Rain dripping from my lashes as I lowered my head.

“…I won’t trust anyone again. From now on, I’ll do everything myself.” A quiet breath escaped me. “…Even if it means being alone.”

◇◇◇

“What in the world was that…?”

The man in black robes tilted his head, genuine surprise flickering across his otherwise composed face as the massive dragon spiraled down from the sky and crashed into the earth with a deafening roar.

BOOOOM—!

The ground shook violently. Dust and debris erupted upward, swallowing the battlefield in a thick, choking cloud.

For a brief moment—

Everything disappeared.

“…Now.”

From within the dust, a voice cut through.

Regis moved first, her figure darting like a shadow through the haze. Ingrid followed close behind, while Hana emerged from the other side.

They had successfully regrouped in the cover of the dust storm.

“Useless creature…” The man said, looking at the knocked-out dragon.

There was annoyance in his tone now.

“Don’t worry. You will fulfill your worth soon enough.”

The dust began to settle. His gaze locked onto the trio.

“But for now… I will deal with you, miscreants. I’ve entertained this long enough.”

Dark energy coiled around his fingers.

“It doesn’t matter how many friends you bring—” His lips curled faintly. “It won’t be enough.”

“Oh, just you wait,” Regis stepped forward, her eyes unwavering. “I will only need one more.”

Ingrid grabbed her arm, pulling her back slightly. “Hey—what are you doing? Why are you provoking him like that?”

“I’m not provoking him.” Regis didn’t even glance at her. “I’m just telling the truth.”

There was no hesitation in her voice.

For a split second, the man’s expression twitched.

“I will end this now.” Frustration seeped into his tone.

He raised his hand, and the ground beneath them split as two colossal hands of darkness erupted upward, twisting into massive claws that lunged straight at them.

“Move—!” Regis shouted.

The three of them scattered in different directions just as the shadow hands slammed down.

CRASH—!

The impact shattered the ground where they had stood. The man smirked, tightening his grip as he prepared to crush them—

But then—

“…Hm?”

His right hand didn’t move. His brow furrowed as he looked down.

Standing beneath the massive shadow limb was Hana.

Her feet dug deep into the ground, muscles tensed, and with her tiny arms, she held the giant shadow hand in place.

“What kind of monster are you?” The man’s voice dropped.

Hana grinned. “I am not a monster. I am a maid-in-training under Madam Elowen.”

“A maid…” The man responded, a bit taken aback by her response. “Then let’s see how you handle this.”

With a flick of his wrist, a dark pulse surged outward.

And suddenly—

WHOOOSH—!

A massive dragon tail cut through the air like a whip.

CRASH—!

The impact sent Hana flying across the battlefield, her body tearing through the dust cloud before slamming into the ground far away.

“Hana…!” Regis’s voice cracked, panic flashing across her face.

“Why did that thing wake up so fast?!” Ingrid shouted as she looked in front of her.

The giant red dragon rose again, its massive form emerging through the settling dust. Its wings twitched, its eyes burning with renewed fury.

Now they were back to facing two enemies. Things had become complicated again. But Regis did not panic.

The shadow hands struck again.

The dragon lunged.

“Focus!” Regis snapped.

They barely managed to dodge—rolling, jumping, weaving through the relentless assault.

But then, from the fading dust, Hana re-emerged.

“…That hurt,” Hana said, annoyed.

Before anyone could react, she grabbed the dragon’s tail.

The entire battlefield paused for a heartbeat.

With a sharp pull, Hana lifted the dragon’s massive body and then—

She swung it.

“HEYAAAHHHHH—!”

The dragon roared. But Hana didn’t stop there. She spun in place, dragging the enormous creature through the air like it weighed nothing, the ground cracking beneath her feet as she gained momentum.

“Take this—!”

WHOOOOM—!

The dragon was hurled in a wide arc, its body slamming violently into the ground again and again as she swung it around like a rag doll.

The earth trembled with each impact.

“To think…” the man muttered under his breath, watching in disbelief. “…I would meet someone with such absurd strength…”

The dragon snarled, enraged. Its jaws opened wide as it tried to gather heat. A blazing sphere of fire condensed at its throat.

“Not happening—!”

Ingrid raised her hand, and a swirling torrent of water surged forward.

The water slammed straight into the dragon’s mouth, disrupting the flame before it could fire.

Steam exploded outward, hissing violently as fire and water clashed. Ingrid gritted her teeth, forcing more magic out despite her exhaustion.

“Go. Hana and I will take care of this side.” Ingrid said, determined as she nodded toward Regis.

Regis stepped forward. Her eyes now locked onto the man in black.

“This time… I’ll put him down for good,” Regis said.

A faint smile touched Ingrid's lips. “Go.”

As if this time, she had complete trust in Regis.

The battle had now split into two fronts. Regis walked straight toward the man alone.

She sprinted forward and leapt—her boots landing lightly atop one of the massive shadow hands just as it rose from the ground.

“Got you.”

The second hand came crashing down instantly.

BOOOOM—!

The impact crushed the first hand beneath it, shadows colliding in a violent surge.

“…Finally,” the man muttered, a faint smirk forming.

But when the hands moved apart, Regis was already gone.

Using the impact as a foothold, she had launched herself upward—her body cutting through the air as she soared high above the battlefield, wind whipping violently around her.

She went higher and higher until the ground looked distant. She flipped midair, pulling back her bow in one smooth motion.

A glowing arrow formed between her fingers. Layer after layer of violent wind magic coiled around it as Regis started compressing them together at the tip of her arrow. The space around the arrow began to warp.

Regis narrowed her eyes.

“Heavenfall: Skyrend Arrow.”

She released the arrow, and it tore through the sky like a spinning falling star—its spiraling winds whipping so violently that the air itself ignited around it.

Like a streak of light, it descended on the enemy.

“I said—it’s useless! You really think I will fall for your cheap tricks a second time.”

The man thrust his hand forward.

Dozens of portals burst open in the air between them—meant to swallow the attack whole.

But Regis didn’t falter. Her eyes never moved away from her target.

The arrow struck the first portal, but instead of vanishing—

CRACK—!

The portal shattered.

The compressed wind magic detonated outward, tearing apart the magical structure itself.

“What—?!”

One portal after another—

SHATTERED.

Each layer of wind peeled away as it broke through, but the arrow didn’t stop.

The man’s expression hardened. He raised his hand again, preparing to intercept it directly.

“All I have to do is block it, and then I will kill you with this.” In one hand, the man conjured a large spear of shadow, ready to cut Regis the moment she closed in. And she would have nowhere to run, this time.

But then—

He suddenly felt it.

His heart, his mind—every nerve in his body lit up in warning, yanking his focus toward the Scarlet Peak. The moment his eyes fell on it, he realized: something dangerous was growing there. Magic—so overwhelming it consumed the entire mountain range.

“…What… is that…?”

It spread like a storm across the entire range, pressing down on the world itself.

“…Impossible…”

For the first time, a sense of uncertainty flickered across his face.

And in that single moment of distraction—

Regis drew another arrow and released it.

He missed his mark as he hurled the spear, and Regis slipped aside, shifting her weight just enough to let it pass.

The man twisted his body at the last second, barely managing to dodge the first arrow, letting it tear past him.

But that was exactly where Regis wanted him.

Regis had already predicted his evasion path, and just as she had calculated.

The second arrow was already there.

“…What—?!”

THUD—!

“Aaaargh—!”

The impact exploded against him.

The remaining layers of compressed wind detonated all at once, ripping through his defenses and sending shockwaves of raw force, tearing across his body.

Regis landed lightly on the ground, her bow lowering as dust swirled around her. Her eyes stayed locked on him.

Behind her—

“You did it!” Ingrid’s voice rang out, relief and excitement spilling through.

“Regis is strong!” Hana added, with a bright grin, as if she had just watched something fun rather than devastating.

Regis didn’t respond.

Not yet. Not until she had seen the end herself.

The moment didn’t last.

The man… stood back up.

“…What?” Regis’s eyes narrowed.

The damage Regis’s arrow had inflicted was gone, as if it had never happened.

The torn flesh, shattered bones—restored as if nothing had happened. His body pulsed with a grotesque, unnatural energy, knitting itself back together at a speed no human should possess.

“…Why…Why aren’t things going my way today…?” The man screamed as his blown-up face regenerated. His head tilted, then snapped up. “…Why… why… WHY—?!”

His scream tore through the battlefield. With a violent motion, he abandons the black robe concealing him.

His body was warped, twisted—like something stitched together through countless experiments. Veins of dark energy pulsed beneath his skin, and at the center of his abdomen was a massive, black sun.

Regis had seen that before, but now it was much clearer. The symbol looked alive as the tendrils around it throbbed.

“Aural Arts: First Phantom: Maw of the Endless Abyss.”

The world changed instantly.

The ground beneath them melted—dissolving into a thick, black liquid that swallowed the land whole. The air turned heavy, suffocating, as darkness seeped into every corner of the battlefield.

The earth… was gone. Replaced by a writhing, murky abyss.

The open sky above them collapsed inward, forming a suffocating dome of darkness.

“Regis—what is happening?!” Ingrid’s voice shook as she struggled to keep her footing.

“I… don’t know,” Regis muttered, her eyes scanning the shifting terrain. “But—I think… I’ve seen something like this before…”

Regis remembered once Alicia using something similar when she fought against the dungeon goddess.

“I don’t think I can hold this dragon much longer!” Hana shouted, her grip loosening around the beast—but the moment she said it—the dragon slipped free from her grasp.

Suddenly, Regis noticed the liquid beneath their feet rippled.

Then—

Plop.

Regis froze. Small bubbles began to rise around her legs.

“Everyone—Get away!” Regis screamed.

“…Too late.” The man’s voice echoed.

Then from the surface—erupted.

“—!!”

A massive, cylindrical creature burst out from beneath the abyss.

Its body was coated in the thick black fluid, glistening under the dim light. Its entire “face” was a gaping maw—lined with countless jagged teeth spiraling inward into darkness.

“What is that?!” Ingrid screamed, stumbling back.

The creature lunged. Regis barely succeeding in moving her body away from its trajectory. She rolled, pushing herself to the left.

WHOOSH—!

Its jaws snapped shut inches from her, sending a violent shockwave through the air.

The creature dove back beneath the surface and vanished.

“Where is it—?!” Regis looked around, but it was all silent.

The liquid rippled again behind her.

Regis prepared to jump—

But—

“…Huh?”

Her leg—

It wouldn’t move. She looked down.

The black liquid had thickened around her ankle, pulling, dragging—like countless unseen hands gripping her in place.

“…No—”

She tried to force it free. But it didn’t budge. The bubbles now started to pop all around her violently.

It was back.

The creature erupted again right in front of her.

Its mouth wide open, teeth spiralling.

“Regis—MOVE!” Ingrid screamed, already sprinting toward her.

“Regis, run—!” Hana’s voice followed, charging from the other side.

But they were too far. And it was not that they were without danger. The freed dragon was already circling, ready to strike from the shadows behind them.

“…Damn it—!”

Regis struggled to pull her leg out of the swamp, but to no avail. Her leg wouldn’t come free.

The monster closed in.

Closer.

Closer—

Forming puddles, making her body tense. Regis’s grip tightened around her bow—

There was no time, only a fleeting breath as she closed her eyes and braced for the impact.

For a few seconds—

Nothing happened.

“…?”

The battlefield… felt silent.

A chill brushed against her exposed skin. Cold air wrapped around her like a whisper, creeping along her arms, her neck—settling deep into her bones.

Her brows furrowed. The suffocating heat of battle was gone. Replaced by something… still. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

And froze.

Right in front of her, the monstrous maw that had been seconds away from devouring her was no longer moving. It was sealed—completely encased in thick, glistening ice.

Every jagged tooth, every ripple of its grotesque form, stood frozen solid, as if time itself had been halted.

“...What...?” Her breath escaped in a faint mist, visible in the sudden cold.

That was when she saw her.

Standing atop the frozen monster was a small, unmoving figure. A white mask concealed her face, giving her an almost otherworldly presence.

“Alicia...” The name slipped from Regis’s lips before she could stop herself.

“Master!” Hana didn’t hesitate. The moment she saw Alicia, she rushed forward without a second thought.

“That’s Alicia. What’s she doing here?” Ingrid couldn’t believe her eyes.

Alicia, in contrast, remained calm. She stepped down from the frozen creature with quiet grace, as though the chaos around her had never existed.

As her feet touched the ground, another figure followed closely behind her.

When Ingrid finally reached them, she came to an abrupt halt.

“…What… is this…?”

It wasn’t just the monster that had changed. The entire domain had transformed into something unrecognizable.

From the blackened sky above, a massive spire of ice descended, piercing downward like a radiant pillar that connected the sky to the earth. It extended from the monster’s head, anchoring it completely in place— like a pillar of judgment, impaling it where it stood.

And not far from them lay the giant crimson dragon on the ground.

Its massive body was trapped within layers of thick, crystalline ice, wrapped around it like heavy armour. Its wings were frozen mid-motion as if the cold had frozen its heart, too. There was no struggle, no roar, no sign of resistance. It simply remained still.

As if it already understood—breaking free was impossible.

“…Alicia… Rhea…?” Regis finally found her voice. “How did you two get here?”

There was no response.

Alicia remained silent. Slowly, her gaze shifted—from Regis, to Hana, and then to Ingrid.

“…Rhea,” Ingrid said, turning toward her, still shaken. “I didn’t know you could use ice magic.”

“I can’t.” Rhea’s reply was simple.

But somehow, that made everything feel even more unsettling.

“…Then was it—” But the rest of Ingrid’s words never came.

By that time, Alicia had already moved. She stepped closer to Regis and gently raised her hand.

Regis didn’t move. She didn’t step back. She simply stood there, watching as Alicia closed the distance between them.

“Alicia, I am fine. It’s just a scratch.” Regis said.

Then, Alicia’s fingers touched her cheek. It was strangely warm against the biting cold that surrounded them.

“Ah—!”

A sharp sting shot through her, forcing Regis to flinch. For a split second, pain surged through her body.

The pain from every cut, every bruise, every hidden wound from the battle surfaced all at once, crashing into her senses in a single overwhelming wave.

But in the same instant, a soft, golden glow enveloped her body.

“…What—?”

The warmth spread instantly, flowing through her veins, seeping into her bones, reaching the very core of her being. Her breathing steadied. The pain disappeared as if it had never existed. Her strength returned.

Regis blinked, her thoughts struggling to catch up with what she was feeling.

She glanced around in disbelief. Hana and Ingrid stood nearby, both surrounded by the same gentle golden light. Their injuries had vanished completely, leaving no trace behind.

“…I’m… healed!” Ingrid muttered.

Before anyone could truly process what had just happened, the light faded, and the silence returned once more.

Alicia turned away.

“I’ll be back,” Alicia said, her voice was calm and quiet, carrying a certainty that allowed no room for question.

“Alicia—wait!” Regis stepped forward instinctively. “You don’t have to do this alone!”

Alicia didn’t turn. She didn’t even slow down.

“Alicia, stop!” Ingrid called out, panic rising in her voice. “He’s dangerous—we need to figure a way out of this!”

Still nothing.

“Rhea, Hana—help me stop her!”

Hana didn’t move. Her gaze remained fixed on Alicia’s back as if she had absolute faith.

If it was her master’s decision—that was enough.

Rhea… didn’t speak either.

Her eyes flickered briefly toward Alicia. She had already seen it once. That absolute power. As impossible as it seemed, she believed it now.

Instead, her focus shifted elsewhere.

“…Mother…” Her voice softened.

She moved toward the frozen dragon. Pulling the bag containing the large egg, she placed it near the crimson dragon to feel its warmth.

“…Are you still… in there?”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached out—

But she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know if there was anything she could do.

“Don’t worry, she is strong. She is still here.” A voice came.

And when Rhea looked, a little lower, the black dragon stood nearby.

Its eyes focused on the red dragon, as if he meant to say he was here for her too.

Behind them—

“Alicia,” Regis tried once more, her voice softer now. “…At least let me help you.”

This time—

Alicia stopped. Just for a moment.

“…No.” Her voice came, quiet but absolute. “You’ve already done enough. You are not strong enough to defeat him. I am sorry I wasn’t here to help, and you got hurt.”

That’s when Regis noticed it—in her eyes. All she could do was clench her teeth, biting her lip to hold it in.

“Have you lost your mind?” Ingrid stepped forward, grabbing Alicia’s arm before she could go any further.

“Your attribute is light—you’re a healer. Look around you!” she snapped, gesturing at the frozen battlefield, the abyss, the looming threat beyond it. “Even if the light attribute has an advantage over the dark attribute. Do you really think you can defeat that?”

Her voice tightened.

“We can’t win this fight. But we can survive this. You have already healed us. Regis and I can hold him off. You can still get out—find the teachers, and bring help. That’s the only plan that makes sense.”

Her grip tightened.

“Don’t throw your life away.”

Alicia didn’t respond. Not even a glance. She simply pulled her arm free—

…and stepped forward.

“Alicia—” Ingrid turned toward Regis, expecting her to say something—anything.

To stop her.

But Regis didn’t argue. Like she had already accepted what was about to happen.

Then Ingrid noticed it.

For the first time, Alicia’s hand rose to her mask.

“…What is she doing…?” Ingrid whispered, her voice barely audible.

The mask slipped free. And in that moment, time itself seemed to pause.

Long, flowing white hair cascaded down Alicia’s back like strands of moonlight, shimmering faintly even within the darkened domain.

Ingrid’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief.

“…No way…”

The girl standing before them was extraordinarily beautiful.

Not just in appearance, but in presence. There was an otherworldly stillness about her, as if she didn’t belong to this chaos at all—as if she existed beyond it.

But what truly froze Ingrid in place were her eyes.

“…Those aren’t…”

The crimson glow she had always seen beneath the mask was gone. In its place were deep, luminous blue eyes that shone softly even in the darkness. They were calm, endless—and terrifyingly clear.

Before leaving, she placed a strong barrier to protect them.

Alicia finally came to a stop a few steps away from the man. The abyss rippled beneath her feet, shifting and writhing, yet it did not dare pull her in.

“…So,” the man said, his voice laced with both irritation and curiosity, “you’re the one behind all this ice.”

His gaze narrowed as he studied her.

“…And what are you supposed to be?”

◇◇◇

“Who infiltrated my domain?”

Dugal’s voice no longer carried its earlier arrogance; it came out low, uneven—almost… uncertain.

“You’re telling me… there’s someone here whose aural arts surpass mine…?”

His breath hitched as the words left him. “I can’t breathe… my body—”

He glanced down at his hands and froze. They were trembling.

“I’m… freezing? In my own domain?” His voice faltered, disbelief creeping in. “Whose magic is this? How can I feel this weak in someone else’s presence?”

He clenched his teeth and forced more energy into the abyss worm he summoned through his aural arts. The black liquid churned violently as the imprisoned beast strained against the ice, thrashing with growing fury.

But the ice did not crack.

“Impossible…” For the first time, fear seeped into his voice.

No matter how much power he poured into it, nothing changed. The creature remained frozen.

Slowly, he lifted his head—and saw her.

A girl was walking toward him, step by step, clad in the uniform of Grindelwald Magic Academy.

At first, he felt nothing. No pressure, no overwhelming aura—nothing that could explain what was happening.

“…It’s just a small girl?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. The fact that his senses were too numb to her presence made him more apprehensive.

But then she removed her mask and everything changed.

“…!!”

That presence… the same one he had felt from Scarlet Peak—it was her.

“You…” His voice dropped, losing its edge. “You’re the one who froze my beast.”

His gaze sharpened as he tried to gauge her, to understand what stood before him.

“Who are you…?”

But all he found was nothing—and that alone was enough to drive him into paranoia.

“…No. What are you supposed to be?” His expression twisted, unease creeping in.

But from the magical pressure he sensed earlier, he knew what kind of threat he was facing. And that he also couldn’t let his guard down even for a second.

The girl stopped just a few steps away. Her blue eyes met his—calm and perfectly still.

“I am Alicia,” she said quietly. “A student of Grindelwald Magic Academy and a healer.”

“…A healer?” Dugal let out a dry, disbelieving laugh. “Call yourself whatever you want,” he muttered, his eyes darkening. “You are anything but normal.”

His gaze shifted toward the frozen crimson dragon in the distance. Its massive form was locked in absolute stillness, and he also noticed Rhea. Then his gaze returned to Alicia. “What did you do to Cal?”

“Oh,” Alicia said, her tone unchanged. “Was that his name? He tried to attack my friend and me, so I stopped him.”

“Stopped him?” The word lingered in the air until something inside Dugal snapped. “…Is that what you call it?”

Anger surged into his voice, and the air around him trembled in response.

“And who might you be?” Alicia asked, undeterred by the situation.

For a moment, Dugal said nothing. Until now, he had never needed to introduce himself—names meant nothing to the dead.

But this time… it was different.

“My name is Dugal.” A faint, prideful smile crept onto his lips as he spoke. “The Seventh Executor of the Black Torch.”

Alicia tilted her head slightly.

“Huh. Never heard of it.”

Her voice was simple and direct, as if she truly didn’t know.

Dugal laughed. “Of course you haven’t.” His eyes gleamed with something dark and sinister.  He spread his arms slowly, savoring the moment. “It’s because of the simple fact that you are still alive, at least for now, that is. If you have heard of us, that means you would have already been dead.”

His gaze drifted past her, settling on the others in the distance. “So, you… your friends… your teachers, and everyone who stepped into these mountains today…”

His smile widened, sharp and merciless. “…will die.”

Alicia didn’t react. Not even the slightest flicker crossed her face.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked softly, her tone almost polite. “If that’s the case, I can’t allow it. Leave now, and promise you will never do something like this again.”

She stepped forward. “You’ve already caused enough damage to these mountains. To the creatures living here… and you’ve even invaded my friend’s home.”

“If only it were that simple. I’ve already staked my life on this.” The black sun at his abdomen pulsed violently. “No matter what, I have to destroy. I will take the dragons.”

Alicia’s eyes narrowed, just slightly. “And what do you need them for?”

Dugal burst into laughter—loud and unhinged. “Hahahahaha—!”

The sound echoed across the frozen abyss, distorting in the stillness.

“So, you still haven’t figured it out?” His grin stretched unnaturally wide. “Tell me… why would anyone need these giant savage beasts for?”

His eyes gleamed with madness. “They rain hellfire from the sky. They can tear hundreds of humans in one go with their claws.”

A brief pause followed.

“…Destruction.”

His voice almost resonating. “And destruction…”

The black sun on his chest pulsed again.

“…is best used in war.”

His hand clenched tightly. “They will be enhanced and controlled by humans to destroy humans. To destroy kingdoms, burn the lands, and everything in their way.”

His gaze lifted, as if he could already see it—cities burning, skies collapsing, chaos swallowing everything whole.

“And with them…” His voice sharpened into something cold and absolute. “I will ignite war across the entire continent.”

Alicia remained still, silently watching, listening.

“…Is that so,” Her voice was quiet. But something about it felt colder than the ice surrounding them.

“What—already getting scared?” Dugal’s grin twisted wider. “Why don’t I make you the same offer?” Now is the time you can still turn around and run away with your friends. Maybe I won’t hunt you down.”

His eyes gleamed with something relentless. “Because I am never going to stop.”

“I see,” Alicia said.

Dugal’s smile slowly faded, hardening into something colder. “You can’t turn away either… can you?”

His gaze sharpened as it locked onto her eyes. “That look in those eyes…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They don’t belong to a normal person. You have the eyes of someone who feels nothing… Not even their own existence.”

His grin returned, edged with something darker. “It’s almost like you stopped being human a long time ago. And yet here you are—mingling with weak humans, acting out the illusion of an ordinary, peaceful life. And since you’ve refused my offer—”

His arm rose.

Then—

SLAM.

“Aural Arts: Second Phantom—Wyrm of Hollow Abyss.”

The domain expanded—violently.

The abyss stretched outward, doubling in size as the sky darkened into a churning storm.

“Now—” Dugal’s voice echoed, thunder rumbling behind it.

“You die.”

SKREEEECH—!

The sky tore open. From the thunderclouds above, they descended—hundreds of winged wyrms. Their long, grotesque bodies twisted through the air, their faces nothing but elongated maws lined with jagged teeth. Their large, elongated bodies spiralled in the sky as they dove in a frenzy, shrieking as they fell.

At the same time, something stirred below.

Plop. Plop. Plop.

Alicia’s gaze flickered downward.

Bubbles formed beneath her feet—in front, to her left, and then everywhere. The entire abyss began to convulse.

BOOM—!

Alicia shot upward just as the surface below erupted. Hundreds of abyss worms burst forth, snapping at the space she had occupied, their massive bodies writhing as they lunged skyward.

The abyss worms followed her form from below. And the abyss wyrm chased her in the skies.

They encircled her from every direction. Slowly closing in on their prey.

“Now what will you do?” Dugal’s voice echoed, laced with cruel amusement. “There is no escape.”

His laughter rolled through the storm. “Even if you’re powerful… even if you can kill ten… fifty… a hundred…”

The swarm thickened until the sky itself turned black with bodies.

“How will you deal with thousands of them?”

Alicia weaved through the swarm, gliding between snapping jaws and tearing claws.

A flick of her hand—

BOOM—!

A fusion ball erased a cluster of wyrms. But more replaced them instantly.

From the abyss below. From the storm above.

“Yes… struggle.” Dugal laughed—loud and victorious, the sound cutting through the chaos.

His voice dripped with satisfaction. “At some point, you’ll run out of power.” His eyes gleamed with cruel certainty. “You will feel helpless and tired. Hoping that this will all end soon. And when you do, they’ll devour you.”

He tilted his head, almost as if in pity. “Do you know why you’re going to die today?”

Alicia didn’t respond.

“It’s because you’re ignorant. The world has always been like this—unfair… cruel. If only you hadn’t played the role of a foolish savior.”

A wyrm lunged.

Alicia twisted midair, letting it pass inches from her face.

Another flick of Alicia’s hand—a collection of special fusion balls of different attributes launched in all directions. A cluster of abyss beasts vanished instantly.

“Even if you fight for something good, for a just cause. If you are weak…” Dugal’s voice darkened. “…you die.”

Alicia kept moving—dodging the horde, destroying any abyss wyrm or worm that got in her way. And most importantly, observed.

The real problem wasn’t the black worms below.

It was the aerial wyrms.

They were fast, large in number, and it didn’t take her long to realize they were endless too.

But both the wyrms and the worms were manifestations of the domain itself—it empowered and sustained them. No matter how many she destroyed… they would keep coming.

“…Then the solution is simple.”

Alicia’s gaze lifted slowly toward the sky as she launched herself higher and higher.

…

Far away, behind a hidden barrier—

“Do you think she’s going to make it?! There are too many of them.” Ingrid slammed her fist against the invisible wall, frustration spilling over. “Who even put up this stupid barrier?”

The barrier shimmered faintly, flawless in its construction. It blocked everything—sound, sight, even magical presence.

They were safe.

And completely cut off. Not even the abyss worms or wyrms could sense them.

Rhea stood silently beside the red crimson dragon, eyes fixed forward. “…I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“She’ll be fine.”

Regis’s voice cut cleanly through the tension—calm and certain.

Ingrid turned toward her, her voice faltering as she stared at the chaos beyond. “How can you be so sure?”

Regis didn’t look away from the battlefield. “Just watch.”

A faint smile touched her lips.

“Yeah,” Hana added with a quick nod, her eyes shining. “Master is strong.”

“Ahhh! I am so mad right now because I have so many questions. And who is that girl? You are really telling me to believe that angelic-looking girl is really supposed to be Alicia?”

—

Back in the storm—

Alicia came to a stop midair, suspended in the chaos.

She was surrounded—completely encircled—as thousands of abyss creatures closed in from every direction.

Dugal’s grin widened at the sight. “…Finally giving up?”

Alicia’s blue eyes lifted slightly. “…No.”

The air around her shifted. The battlefield fell into a strange, suffocating silence as her body rose, slow and deliberate.

Pebbles on the ground trembled, then lifted. One by one, fragments of stone, shattered pieces of mountain, even grains of dust began to drift upward, as if the world had quietly forgotten which way was down.

At first, it was subtle. But it deepened with every passing second. For a moment, it looked like weightlessness.

Then it changed.

Dust veered and thinned, outlining something that had no shape, yet held perfect form. Forming an imaginary sphere around Alicia.

“I am just creating some space for myself,” Alicia said.

Then—

Everything stopped for a moment.

Mid-motion. Mid-fall. Mid-breath.

The floating debris froze in place. The wind died completely. Even sound collapsed into nothing, as if the world itself were holding its breath.

“Zero-G Burst.”

The moment the words left her lips, space rejected everything.

There was no flash. No explosion. No sound.

From Alicia’s position, a perfect sphere began to expand. It wasn’t fire, nor wind—nor even magic in any conventional sense. It was a force, stripped of medium, a law imposed directly onto space itself, born from Alicia’s unique skill.

The ground beneath her didn’t shatter—it collapsed inward for a brief, crushing instant before rebounding violently outward. A widening ring spread across the surface, as if the world had been struck by an invisible hammer.

The abyss responded.

The worms. The wyrms.

They weren’t blown away. They were pushed out of place, as if the space around them no longer accepted them. Their bodies twisted and stretched in strange, unnatural ways—and then vanished.

In the blink of an eye—

The sphere grew, expanding with flawless symmetry. It devoured distance, overtaking the entire domain. Stone, beasts, even shadows—everything was forced outward in perfect radial alignment, as though governed by an unseen law.

And in its wake—

nothing remained.

A hollowed world.

And at its center—Alicia.

Her eyes opened, and the azure glow within them burned brighter.

The darkness of the domain began to crack—then shatter, like glass under unbearable pressure. The black sky fractured into pieces before dissolving entirely, taking the abyssal beasts with it as though they had never existed.

The storm vanished.

The abyss disappeared.

The domain collapsed.

All of it—gone.

In its place, the real sky returned.

Dusk light poured back into the world. Wind followed. Then sound—like the land itself had drawn breath again after being suffocated.

Dust settled slowly along the edges of a vast crater, forming a clean, circular boundary.

There was no chaos, no randomness. Only a world that had been pushed away.

Alicia remained suspended in the air, motionless. Her expression unchanged.

As though—nothing at all had happened.

◇◇◇

Back at the orphanage—that’s where my world began.

It wasn’t much.

The walls were cracked, the roof leaked when it rained, and meals were never enough to fill our stomachs. There were not enough blankets for everyone to fight the cold. And not enough coins to dream of anything beyond tomorrow.

We learned early how to pretend we weren’t hungry—how to smile through it.

But it was home. We had each other.

“Don’t eat so fast, kids. Or, you’ll choke!” the caretaker laughed, as he saw us stuff stale bread in one go. “You need to chew food at least twenty times before swallowing.”

“If I start eating that slow,” Someone would shoot back, grinning. “At this rate, winter will come before I finish!”

The others would burst into laughter.

Our caretaker was old and tired—but he was always smiling. I even once heard a rumour that he was a retired, famous knight.

“You brats,” he’d mutter fondly. “If laughter could fill stomachs, you’d all be kings.”

We lived just outside the capital of a small, peaceful kingdom. From the hill behind the orphanage, we could see its distant walls glowing gold at sunset.

We used to hear how people there went to a building to study numbers and write words. Had more than enough food to even feed the animals. And wear new clothes every day.

To us, it felt like another world.

But we didn’t mind.

Our world was small… and warm.

And that was enough.

…

That day began like any other. The sky was impossibly blue.

We were playing outside, barefoot, chasing each other, kicking up dust, shouting nonsense.

“Hey! Look!” Someone pointed.

That’s when I saw it—a ray of light cutting through the sky. It rose silently, like a blessing, like something divine reaching upward. I remember laughing… running toward it, as if I could touch the sky itself.

It was… beautiful.

“Wait!” someone shouted behind me. “Where are you going?!”

But I didn’t stop.

The light climbed higher… higher… until—

It burst.

Not like fireworks. Not like anything I had ever seen.

The world shattered.

A loud sound followed. It slammed into me, tore through me, and stole my hearing in an instant. Everything went silent.

I couldn’t hear anything anymore.

But I could see.

The sky darkened as if something had taken a bite out of the sun. And then—

Hell descended.

Endless, devouring flames rained upon the capital. Buildings collapsed. Smoke swallowed the horizon.

I couldn’t hear the screams… but I could see them.

And then—even that faded.

Darkness crept into my vision.

But before everything vanished, I felt it.

The heat licking my skin. The air burned my lungs. My skin screamed. The ground trembled beneath me like it was trying to throw me away. And all around me I could feel it—

Pain.

Pain everywhere.

…

I ran.

I don’t know how we found our way back to the orphanage, half-blind, half-deaf, stumbling over roots and stones—but we kept on running.

The orphanage came into view.

And I froze.

There were people. Men in armor. Others in long, noble robes I didn’t recognize.

They stood at the door smiling.

I stopped just behind the bushes. Something felt… wrong.

“Everyone… everyone… the capital is burning.” The other children ran after me, calling out.

And the caretaker opened the door at the same time.

For a moment—I thought maybe they were here to help.

The caretaker stepped forward, shouting something I couldn’t hear. He spread his arms as if to shield us.

A blade flashed, and his head fell.

Then the arrows came.

There were no screams. The arrows simply passed through them. Followed by soft, simple thuds.

My friends—the ones who laughed with me just moments ago—collapsed one after another.

Blood staining the dirt we used to play in.

And then—

The men in armor left.

As if it meant nothing.

As if we meant nothing.

—

I don’t remember deciding to move.

But I was inside again, once the unknown men had left.

Searching, hoping I would find someone still there.

I found one door, and from behind it I could hear the small kids in the orphanage cry. The caretaker… he had hidden some of the children.

I pushed the door, but it was locked. I didn’t have the key, nor could I waste any time finding it.

“Wait for me,” I said, though I couldn’t hear my own voice.

I clawed at it. Hit it hard, but nothing worked.

And then the light came again.

Not from the sky this time.

But from everywhere around me, as it spread quickly through the orphanage, swallowing it whole.

As if those magicians just remembered to deal the final blow.

Fire surged through the halls. The wood screamed as it burned.

And behind that door—

my family.

“No… no… no…!”

I kept pulling at the door, screaming without sound, begging it to open, and then something crashed down.

A metal beam fell on me, pinning me to the ground, right in front of that door.

Right in front of them.

I couldn’t move. And through the roaring silence, I saw them.

I saw their shadows through the cracks as the fire reached them.

I saw them claw at the door I couldn’t open.

I saw their mouths open in screams I could not hear.

And then—

Their shapes disappeared.

The fire took them. It took everything.

…

The orphanage burned to the ground.

And I burned with it.

My skin melted, fusing with the scorched earth beneath me. My chest charred, half my body reduced to something unrecognizable.

The pain was beyond anything I could understand—beyond anything a human should endure.

And yet—

I lived.

Days passed, I think.

I hadn’t eaten. I hadn’t moved. I lay there, trapped between life and death, wishing for either to end.

But the screams…

Even after everything, I could still hear them.

Then, one day, I heard footsteps, and the heavy pillar that had pinned me down finally moved.

A man stood over me.

I couldn’t see him clearly, but I felt his gaze—sharp and curious.

“I can’t believe someone survived the war,” he said. “You’re definitely not lucky to have survived through this horror. But that’s what makes you interesting.”

He crouched down.

“I can save you. Do you want me to?”

Save me?

I didn’t know.

I didn’t know if there was anything left to save.

“This world,” he continued, “is filled with madness. There is enough for everyone, yet the powerful hide behind their walls, hoarding far more than they could ever need. And still, they want more… so they wage wars for it.”

His voice hardened.

“I’m going to tear those walls down. Burn this rotten system to the ground. I will create a world where such inequality cannot exist.”

For a moment, I wondered if I would have liked to live in such a world. But my family was already gone.

But then the man spoke again, this time his tone was different.

“I once had a dream,” he said. “Of a sun… but not like the one that hangs above us.”

His gaze lifted, as if he could already see it.

“A black eternal sun. And under it… No one is above another.”

His voice sharpened again.

“No walls could hide from it. No power could escape it. Kings, tyrants, the rich, the beggar, and children… all would stand equal beneath it. A judgment no one can escape from.”

His eyes returned to me, colder now.

“That is the world I want to create.”

Silence pressed in around us.

“But before that… they need to understand.”

He stepped closer.

“They need to feel it. The fear. The helplessness. The pain of standing on the other side of those walls.”

His hand lifted slightly.

“And I can give you that magic power. The power of the Black Sun. To burn them—equally. To make them suffer… a thousand times more than what you endured. So tell me… will you help me make this dream come true?”

My lips trembled. My body refused to respond. But somewhere, deep within me, I knew I wanted this. The reason why I still clung to this painful existence.

Not for hope. Not for salvation.

The refusal for everything to end like this.

“Save… me…”

…

Even now… in this very moment—

All the power I carved out of suffering… all the strength forged from hunger, from fire, from screams that never stopped echoing—everything I tore myself apart to become…

Was shattered by a single flick of her hand.

She stood there, untouched. A girl who looked like she had everything this world could offer—warmth, safety, a future.

Things I had never known. Things the children at the orphanage will never know.

She had so much to lose.

And I… had nothing.

So why…

Why am I the one losing?

My chest tightened—not from pain. I was long past that.

But from something deeper. Something that refused to die.

I could still hear them from behind that door.

They never left.

“Come play with us…”

“Don’t leave us alone…”

“It hurts…”

Their voices curl around my thoughts, digging into what little remains of me.

I knew where they were. I knew they were waiting.

In that burning place… in that endless pain.

“I know you’re all calling for me—to come play with you in hell. And I will, one day. But not today.”

Because this is what I chose. To tear this world down to nothing.

“Aural Arts: Third Phantom—The Hollow King.”

◇◇◇

The man in front of me was no ordinary opponent. I had felt it the moment my magic clashed with his domain—his aura was highly refined and deeply connected to his soul.

Breaking his domain was the only choice to stop him from fully manifesting his aural arts.

“…That should’ve ended it,” I muttered under my breath, lowering my guard just slightly.

But then I saw Dugal’s shoulders tremble as he stood within the collapsing fragments of his own domain. He was smiling as his lips moved.

And then a sharp crack split the air.

I froze.

It wasn’t another domain forming. It was him.

Dugal’s body jerked violently as something inside him gave way—something that could not be seen externally, but inward.

His soul core… was collapsing into itself.

“Are you insane—”

Aural Arts are more than just techniques used to form domains through the manifestation of the soul core.

A soul has no fixed form in this world. It can take infinite forms. Based on a person’s emotion, experience, memories of their past, and hopes for the future.

One such form stood before me.

When Dugal activated his next stage of aural arts, he didn’t create another domain. His soul core completely cracked.

And then it began.

Fragments of raw, blinding energy burst out of him in a violent surge, flooding the air like a ruptured dam. Dark energy spilled uncontrollably, tearing through space itself.

It poured from his skin like smoke forced through cracks, clinging, folding back, sinking into him again.

The throughput of dark magic was now mixed with quantities of pure black miasma formed by transforming his own soul energy. Slowly, the black miasma fused with his body, reshaping it completely.

With all his soul core cracked, and all his soul energy leaking out, he should have been dead.

No—he was dying.

And yet…

He endured a pain no different from death itself.

His bones twisted beneath his skin with a grotesque, wet, grinding sound. His frame expanded, stretching, tearing, rebuilding—

I pulled back on instinct, the air around me growing heavy.

The darkness swelled as it tore through Dugal’s body, completely overtaking it.

Moments later, it finally stopped.

For a single, breathless moment, everything went still.

And there it stood.

A towering mass of black miasma, the size of a behemoth, so vast it blotted out the sky behind it.

Tentacles unfurled from its body—like shadows learning how to move. They stretched across the air, coiling.

Its upper form was vaguely humanoid—which only made it more grotesque. Where a face should have been, there was only a vertical void, an open abyss instead of eyes or a mouth. A jagged crown of black spikes rose from its head.

At the center of its chest lay a perfect circular hollow.

Behind it, the sky had collapsed into a swirling vortex of darkness, like a cosmic storm. It framed the creature like a halo—but instead of representing divinity, it portended annihilation.

Below, the ground lay fractured and drowned in shadow.

And before it, I floated, insignificant against its scale.

The thing—Dugal, or what remained of him—tilted its head.

Then it roared.

Suddenly, a ray of black miasma began to gather at the hollow where its face should have been.

At the same time, portals burst open around me—dozens of them. No… hundreds. Too many to count.

In the next instant, the energy discharged. But it didn’t come at me directly.

Beams erupted from the portals instead.

From every angle, violent streams of black energy tore across the battlefield, weaving a chaotic web of annihilation. Portals flickered open and shut, each one bleeding black light into the sky that no longer had a horizon.

“Tch—!” I forced my mind to focus—tracking trajectories and dodging them. Blocking them will only dull my movement and corner me.

There.

Al calculated a narrow path for me.

I slipped through it, weaving between the beams. But the moment I adjusted to the light rays’ barrage—the tendrils moved.

Massive, writhing limbs lashed out, shielding the creature’s core. Getting closer wasn’t an option.

I raised my hand— “Fusion Sphere.”

Orbs of condensed energy formed around me, launching forward in rapid succession. But they never reached.

Every single one was anticipated.

Portals warped open in front of them, swallowing the attacks whole and spitting them into nothingness.

But it was not difficult for me to notice this was all just a distraction.

Or maybe it was all to keep me from getting close. All for buying time to complete his final move.

My gaze snapped to its chest, where its second cavity was.

Black miasma gathered at the hollow, condensing at a terrifying rate.

According to a theory I once read in the True Demon’s Library, magic isn’t abstract at all… It’s made of tiny charged particles that cannot be seen with the naked eye.

The way they spin. The direction they rotate. The speed they carry.

All these factors determine the nature of magic—whether it manifests as light, darkness, wind, earth, or an intermediary form.

And right now—

Dugal was forcing that theory into reality.

He separated the black miasma into two perfectly condensed spheres, holding them apart, spinning in harmony.

Then—he reversed the spin on one.

The moment their rotations opposed each other, the air around them warped violently. Normally, such a state could never exist.

The particles inside the spheres began to resist—violently repelling, trying to resist the change in their natural state, releasing tremendous energy which was then absorbed by the other stable sphere.

But Dugal didn’t stop.

Through his Aural Arts, he poured in raw soul energy—overriding the natural resistance, stabilising the flow.

With two spinning cores of black miasma—one collapsing inward, the other tearing outward—locked in a balance that should never have been possible.

The moment those opposing forces would collapse into each other—

Everything around it would be caught in the release. Everything would come to an end.

And according to Al’s calculations, the intensity of the blast would be comparable to an atomic bomb—the entire Scarlet Mountain range would be torn apart and wiped out.

“So… that’s what you’re cooking,” I muttered, steadying my breath. “Guess I’ll have to get a little rough too.”

I raised my hand.

Ice surged outward, forming layered barriers around me. The incoming beams struck—and bent—caught in a looping reflection that bought me a few precious seconds to focus.

I narrowed my gaze on the Hollow King.

I had to stop him—before those two cores merged.

And to do that, I need to strike with an even greater power.

[Aural Arts: Fifth form - Axiom Null]

Where Dugal had shattered his soul core outward—forced it to expand—I did the opposite.

I pulled mine inward.

A compression so deliberate it felt like holding my breath underwater—like something had me pinned beneath the surface, forcing me down, knowing the moment I let that air slip from my lungs, it would be over.

According to the Particle Theory chapter in the True Demon’s Library, magic practitioners instinctively align their magic flow when casting—light energy spinning in one direction, dark energy in the other.

But there was a question it never answered.

What happens to a particle with no spin at all?

Spin is intrinsic to a particle's identity. Remove it—and the particle ceases to be what it is. Like asking what a flame looks like with no heat. So, naturally, such a magic particle shouldn’t exist.

But then I thought about it differently.

What if I don't remove the spin —

What if I cancel it out?

Apply an exact opposing rotation to a particle already in motion. Equal in magnitude, producing a perfect inverse. By my calculations, the probability of achieving perfect cancellation on even a single particle was 0.00000000001%.

One in ten trillion.

And even that was an oversimplification. Environmental variables, magical density, interference magic fields—each one distorted the equation further.

But I had something no equation accounted for.

With my limitless soul energy, I could accomplish this simple feat.

I gathered the black miasma and started to compress it into a small fixed sphere until the system reached a critical threshold. Then, one by one, I imposed inverse rotations—collapsing their spin into stillness.

A soul core at my level carries particles with kinetic energy far exceeding any other magician. Because to compress mass beyond its limit—past the point where repulsion should tear it apart—needed energy equivalent to the total output of the sun in a single second.

I pushed further. Beyond limits that made no sense to reach that point.

“Come on…” I spoke to myself. “Just a little more…”

A point where mass no longer resists compression, and gravity takes over.

A point where escape becomes impossible.

A point known, in the oldest texts, as the boundary of no return.

The moment I knew I crossed that threshold.

When I opened my eyes, a tiny, perfectly spherical mass had formed, hovering just above my fingertip.

My hand trembled, not from the fear of death. But from the sheer arrogance of what I had created.

“…So, this is what lies beyond the rules.”

The sphere didn’t radiate any kind of supernatural power. On the contrary, it consumed it.

The mass compressed within that tiny black sphere far exceeded the entirety of the Scarlet Mountain Range—nearly five times over—forced into something no larger than a seed.

All light in its vicinity bent towards it. And the space around it trembled.

When it was ready, I brought my finger close to my lips.

“Fu…”

I blew gently.

The sphere drifted forward, weightless, insignificant—

—until it began to fall.

For a moment, I thought Dugal had already lost consciousness.

Then his head lifted.

I felt it—the surge.

In a final act, he forced his two remaining cores together, releasing a fragment of his attack. A wave of darkness spread, expanding outward like a domain swallowing reality itself.

But it didn’t matter.

The instant it touched the sphere—

It stopped.

Then—it bent.

And in the next instant, it was pulled in.

Because what I had created was not an attack. It was a singularity.

A black hole.

And the more it fed on that absolute darkness, the larger the void became.

The Hollow King didn’t even have time to react.

First, its crown twisted inward, space bending around it. Then its limbs—those writhing, monstrous extensions—were dragged toward the center, stretching, distorting.

The light, sound, and massive amount of raw, unbridled destructive energy released from the merge of the two spheres—was swallowed whole.

Everything without exception was pulled inward.

Erased. Until there was nothing left.

Only a growing void…

Devouring the world.

◇◇◇

I used to think the Black Sun was just a symbol.

Like some story told to desperate people—something to cling to when the world had already taken everything else from them.

But our leader… he never doubted it.

He spoke of it like he knew it existed. Like it was waiting for someone to free it.

Like it had chosen him.

But I never believed in it. I didn’t need to.

All I needed… was what it gave me.

Power.

Power to erase the faces that haunted me.

Power to resist the screams that never left me.

Power to make the world feel even a fraction of what it did to me.

And now—that power burned inside me.

It clawed through my veins like something alive, something starving. My body couldn’t contain it—I could feel myself breaking apart from within, piece by piece, like I was being devoured by my own existence.

I laughed.

Or at least, I think I did.

Because in this moment—I felt invincible.

Like I could tear the sky open. Like I could split this world in two and watch it fall apart.

But beneath that, I knew. This power was slowly consuming me.

My vision blurred. Something inside me—something feral—began to crawl to the surface, gnawing at what little of me remained.

I was losing myself. Losing control over what I have become.

“…So, this is how it ends.”

The thought should’ve terrified me.

But it didn’t.

Because then—

I saw it.

At first, I thought it was just a shadow.

It was small and distant. Almost insignificant.

Nothing like the divine, world-devouring entity I had imagined.

But the moment I felt it—

All the pain stopped. All voices vanished.

It didn’t shine, but consumed all around it.

And yet… I couldn’t look away.

“…So it was real.”

The power it carried… it wasn’t just destruction. It felt out of this world.

It had the power to change.

Enough to tear apart fate itself. Enough to rewrite the world.

Enough…

“…to bring them back.”

My chest tightened.

For the first time since I took this path—I smiled.

Even as my body continued to break.

Even as the darkness inside me devoured what remained of my soul.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Because now…

I had finally found it.

The Black Sun.

Finally, I would be able to reunite with my family.

◇◇◇

The storm finally settled.

I dissolved my magic once I was sure Dugal’s aural arts were completely dismantled.

Slowly, I descended. My boots touched the ground, and I could finally rest.

“Alicia…” A faint voice came.

“…Alicia!”

“Master!”

Before I could even lift my head properly, three figures rushed toward me.

Regis reached me first, her usual composure cracked, eyes sharp with worry. Ingrid followed, breath uneven, and Hana came barreling in right after—unable to slow herself—nearly crashing into me.

“You idiot!” Ingrid snapped, though her voice trembled. “Do you have any idea what that looked like from inside?! Why did you trap us there? And how did you do that all?”

Hana grabbed my arm tightly. “You’re okay, right, master?”

Regis said nothing at first. She just looked at me—scanning, confirming, reassuring herself.

“…I’m fine,” I replied quietly.

I had dropped the barrier the moment I confirmed the battlefield was safe.

Behind them, I could still see Rhea kneeling beside the massive crimson dragon. For precaution, I had left it encased in my ice spell—its enormous body frozen mid-struggle. The black dragon stood nearby, silently, watching over.

Everything should have been over.

But then an incoherent sound came from the exact opposite direction.

Our attention snapped back.

At the center of the battlefield… where the Hollow King had been consumed—

Something remained.

A grotesque fragment.

A hand. A shoulder. The upper half of a head—barely intact—suspended in the air, being slowly devoured by a lingering swirl of black miasma.

And yet—

He was smiling.

“Even… if I have lost…” his voice rasped, broken and hollow, “…I can’t make this easy for you.”

Ingrid recoiled in disgust. “What are you even talking about?! How shameless can you be? Just accept your defeat already?!”

His smile widened.

“For the past month…” he continued, “…since we took over this place. I’ve fed every dragon a special dose of the Fragments of the Black Sun.”

My eyes narrowed.

“They’ve fused with their soul cores by now,” he whispered. “They’re no longer the beings they once were… only shells… monsters waiting to awaken.”

Regis stepped forward, fury radiating off her. “What did you do to them?!”

He didn’t even look at her.

His gaze remained fixed on me.

“Here’s my final gift to you,” Dugal continued, his fading gaze locking onto mine. “In the end… You will never stop the Black Torch. There are more of us than you can imagine… and you will never defeat our master.”

Then—

A symbol ignited across his forehead.

A black sun.

Pulsating with an energy that didn’t belong to this world.

“Al,” I muttered internally. “Analyze that mark.”

A brief silence.

Then—

[NO INFORMATION FOUND]

[FOREIGN EXISTENCE DETECTED — NOT RECOGNIZED BY ISLEGARD SYSTEM]

…What?

For the first time… Al had no answer.

“Black Sun… Awaken.”

The moment the words left his lips, the symbol flared with an eerie light.

Instantly, the massive red dragon within my ice prison began to convulse violently.

“Mother—what’s happening?! What’s wrong with her?!” Rhea cried out, panic rising in her voice.

Cracks spread across the ice.

“This is not good…” the black dragon muttered.

In the next instant—

My ice prison shattered.

A vortex erupted around the crimson dragon’s body—black miasma spiraling violently, laced with a strange, corrupted energy.

It wrapped around her like a cocoon. Then it burst.

What emerged was no longer the same creature.

Her massive red scales were now distorted—covered in bulging, pulsating black masses that throbbed like living tumors. Her eyes were pitch black—empty, unrecognizable.

All that remained in them was hunger.

Her mouth opened slightly, revealing jagged teeth dripping with a dark, viscous energy.

Then she screamed.

“GRAAAAAHHHHHH—!!!”

The sound tore through the mountains.

And in return, the world screamed.

“GRAHHH…! GRAAAHHH…! GRAAAHHHH…!!!”

Echoes from every direction followed.

From the mountains… the valleys… the skies—

The entire Scarlet Range roared.

All across the range, the crimson dragons were awakening—each one undergoing the same grotesque transformation.

The corrupted giant crimson dragon shot into the sky, its massive wings tearing through the air, before descending toward the ancient statue at the heart of the ruins.

One by one—

Shadows filled the sky.

Dragons. First dozens came.

Then hundreds followed.

They poured out from hidden nests carved into cliffs, like a tide of living fire and darkness.

All the crimson dragons that lived in this safe ecological environment of Scarlet Mountains surged forward. Their forms writhing with black corruption, their roars merging into a single, overwhelming chorus.

They clung to the colossal statue—clawing onto its arms, its shoulders, its crown—layer upon layer, until the ancient stone was no longer visible beneath the living mass of scaled bodies.

Wings overlapped like a storm of torn banners. Blackened veins pulsed across crimson scales. Countless eyes—glowed like embers in the dark.

At the very top—

The largest of them all descended.

With a thunderous beat of its wings, the monstrous crimson dragon settled upon the statue’s head. She folded her wings, her massive form silhouetted against the darkened sky, like a queen ascending her throne.

“Mother…”

Rhea’s voice barely existed—just a breath, fragile enough to shatter.

Dugal’s laughter rasped through the air, broken and fading.

“There is always something precious to protect,” he muttered, his body already dissolving into darkness. “And the instant it's stolen… conflict becomes inevitable.”

Black flames crawled over what remained of him.

“They’re gone,” he continued, voice hollow. “Those dragons you knew… they don’t exist anymore. All that’s left is the monster inside them.”

His eye flickered toward the distant sky, where wings already began to rise.

“And the first thing they see… they’ll destroy.”

A slow, cruel smile.

“The Grindelwald capital.”

Rhea’s fingers tightened around the egg.

“Even if you stop me…” Dugal whispered, his voice finally fading, “You can’t stop what’s coming.”

Then—

He vanished completely, swallowed by his own darkness.

Rhea collapsed to her knees.

“No…”

She clutched the egg to her chest like it was the only thing keeping her from falling apart completely.

“No, no, no… please…”

Her shoulders trembled violently.

“Please come back… please…” she whispered, as if the dragon could still hear her.

A tear hit the shell.

Then another.

“I just got her back…” her voice cracked. “I just—”

She choked on the rest.

“Rhea—” Regis stepped forward, her voice softening. “We’ll find a way to bring them back.”

“Yeah,” Ingrid added quickly, forcing confidence into her tone. “The Grindelwald Magic Academy is filled with experts. There has to be a cure.”

Rhea didn’t respond.

“…No.”

Her voice cracked.

“I’ve already lost my mother twice.” Tears slipped down her cheeks. “And now… I’ve dragged all of you into this. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

The wind howled across the mountains, carrying the distant echoes of dragon roars.

The sky was filling, and time was running out.

The bright, cheerful girl who once smiled so freely—when she met Regis and me for the first time—was gone.

In her place… was someone breaking.

I stepped forward.

“I will grant you a wish.”

Rhea’s head slowly lifted.

“A… wish?” she repeated, her voice hollow.

“What—?” Ingrid frowned, confused. “Alicia, what are you—”

“Alicia…” Regis whispered, watching me closely.

I didn’t look away from Rhea.

“I will grant you a wish,” I repeated, my voice steady. “Do you want to make one?”

Silence fell.

Rhea lowered her gaze to the egg in her hands.

In that brief moment—everything she had seen… everything I had done…

The way I stood, even now, unshaken in the face of something that should have meant the end.

If anyone could…

If anyone might…

“…Yes,” she said.

“But there’s one condition,” I added.

“Hey—now you’re making demands?” Ingrid protested.

The black dragon stepped closer, silent… as if he already knew what I wanted.

I looked directly at Rhea.

“Why did you entrust me with the egg… if it was something you were willing to risk your life for?”

The question hung heavy between us.

Rhea blinked… then lowered her gaze to the egg in her arms.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she wiped her tears.

“…It’s simple really,” she whispered. “When I saw you and your spirit dragon… and how happy you were…”

A faint, fragile smile touched her lips.

“I felt jealous. But then I also thought… maybe… if my brother is born into this world… we could be like that too.”

A pause.

“So, I believed you were the right person.”

Something in my chest loosened. The weight I hadn’t noticed until now—lifted.

“Tell me your wish,” I said gently.

Rhea hugged the egg closer.

“When I was born, my parents abandoned me in these mountains. I don’t know why they did that.” Her voice wavered, but she didn’t look away. “But then… my mother found me. And I finally had a family.”

A tear slid down her cheek.

“I don’t want my brother… to feel that same pain.”

She looked at me—pleading, but resolute.

“So, Alicia… my wish is…” Rhea closed her eyes and said calmly.

“…for my baby brother to have a happy, complete family.”

For a moment—

I smiled. Then I turned.

In the distance, the sky churned with motion.

Hundreds of corrupted crimson dragons—nearly five hundred—had taken flight, their massive forms tearing through the clouds as they surged toward the Grindelwald capital. At their head, the colossal dragon led like a harbinger of destruction.

The air trembled with their roars.

“Watch me,” I said quietly.

I glanced back at Rhea.

She nodded.

Regis met my eyes, a confident smile forming—unwavering, as always. Hana stood beside her, just as certain.

Only Ingrid remained confused… caught between doubt and belief.

In the next moment, I turned toward the black dragon.

Our eyes met. There was no hesitation left in me now.

My decision had already been made.

“Will you help me?” I asked.

“Sure.” The black dragon replied, not expecting anything in return.

I took a step forward.

“Then make a pact with me.”

For a brief second, the battlefield—the roaring skies, the distant cries of corrupted dragons—faded into silence.

The black dragon blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“Wait—are you sure? No take-backs, right? This isn’t some trick or—”

“Your name is Kuro.”

My voice cut through his words like a command etched into reality itself.

A massive, glowing blue circle erupted beneath us. Ancient symbols spiraled outward like constellations being born, threads of light weaving between the black dragon and me.

Finally, the magic circles merged. Light surged between us, binding soul to soul.

“The contract is complete!”

Kuro leapt back, his voice bursting with excitement. “Yipeee—! Yipeeeeee!”

I exhaled softly.

“Al. Analyze.”

[ANALYSIS COMPLETE]

[BLACK DRAGON SPECIES DATA STORED]

My body lifted off the ground. Higher and higher until the battlefield below shrank beneath me.

And then I shot forward straight into the sky toward the swarm.

From Al’s analysis of the corruption. I was able to put the pieces together.

The black miasma, combined with an unknown energy, had infiltrated their soul cores, leading to their transformation into a malignant form.

Some dark foreign matter had rewritten their very essence, stripping away reason and leaving behind only their most primal instincts.

Changes to the soul core were said to be irreversible. Even divine-level healing couldn’t restore it.

Because the soul once altered does not return.

But through my mystic eyes, I could see it.

The corruption hadn’t fully spread.

Not yet.

If I combined my healing abilities with Hana’s power to reverse causality—

Since my soul core was already merged with hers…

Then maybe—

“Are you sure about this plan?” A voice echoed in my mind. “With this, you’re putting your life in danger.”

I let out a quiet breath.

“So, you’ve already started taking advantage of the contract.”

“Can’t help it,” Kuro replied lightly with telepathy. “You left me on the ground, remember? And since you want my identity hidden, I can’t exactly transform and follow you in my original form.”

“…Fair point.”

“Will you really be okay? Interfering with a soul core can even cause yours to get corrupted, no matter how vast it is. There is nothing you can get in this world without making a trade-off.”

There was a brief pause. Then his tone shifted—quieter, more serious.

“You don’t have to do this,” he added. “This isn’t your burden.”

I looked ahead at the swarm of wings. And the destruction racing toward the capital.

“I have a wish to grant,” I said softly. “You believe in me, right?”

“I do,” Kuro replied. His voice was steady.

“So, save my friend. And come back safely.”

“Will do.”

And with that, our connection was cut off. But I knew he was watching over me.

There was no time to lose, so I began with the first phase of my plan.

“…Al. Do it.”

White threads—burst from my body, spinning violently around me like a storm of silk. They wrapped, layered, and wove into each other, forming a spiraling cocoon.

[STARTING BODY ASSIMILATION]

[EVOLUTION STAGE: INITIALIZING]

[DIVINE SPIRIT — KING OF SPIRIT REALM — BLACK DRAGON — SOUL CORE ANALYSIS COMPLETE]

[SPECIES EVOLUTION… IN PROCESS]

[GRESSUS SYSTEM — CODE SET-UP]

[CODE — LEGACY OF GODDESS ARACHNE — AUTHORITY GRANTED]

[SPECIES EVOLUTION COMPLETE]

[RACE: HUMAN → DRAGON PRIESTESS]

“Aural Arts: First Form - Sacrifice of the Hollow Soul.”

◇◇◇

“Hey—look up!”

A student from the Grindelwald Magic Academy pointed toward the sky, his voice breaking through the anxious chatter.

One by one—

Heads turned.

The dark, suffocating sky… was gone.

In its place, a vast aurora bloomed across the sky—waves of color flowing like liquid light. Shades of gold, violet, and soft blue intertwined, painting the world in something almost… divine.

“It’s… beautiful…” someone whispered.

A girl slowly raised her arms, as if trying to embrace the light itself.

“I can feel it… There’s a positive energy radiating from it.”

“It’s… soothing,” another said, her tense shoulders finally loosening.

The fear of being attacked that had gripped the academy students moments ago was dissolving.

“Miss Xu…” The club representative turned, uncertainty still lingering in his voice. “What should we do?”

Miss Xu didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze remained fixed on the sky.

Tiny golden particles had begun to drift through the air—like fragments of sunlight, gently descending. They pulsed faintly, illuminating paths through the shadows, like silent guides.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. And the realisation hit her.

Even if her mind refused to believe it. Her heart had already sensed it and accepted it. Each of those lights was a part of a soul. As if someone was sharing their soul for the sake of others.

“…They are beautiful,” she said at last.

Then, returning to her role as a teacher, she said, “This doesn’t seem to be a natural phenomenon. Everyone, we will head to the top, which is our destination, and complete our club’s mission. Stay together and remain vigilant.”

But Miss Xu already knew what it was.

An aural art.

A domain so vast… it had merged with reality itself.

…

Elsewhere—

A voice echoed through the air like a distant song.

Karin stopped walking.

Her breath caught.

“…What’s wrong?” Athena asked, noticing the sudden stillness.

But Karin didn’t answer. She was staring upward.

Athena followed her gaze—

And then her own expression shifted.

“…Alicia.” The name slipped from her lips.

A faint smirk tugged at Karin’s expression.

“If I knew something this insane was about to happen…” she muttered, shaking her head lightly, “I would’ve dealt with those idiots before they even captured us to witness this firsthand.”

The sky…

The colors…

The melody that resonated through it all—it wasn’t just sound.

It felt like something reaching deep into the soul.

“Let’s go higher,” Karin said softly. “I need to see this properly.”

Athena nodded.

“…Yeah.”

…

Not far away—

“What is that sound…?” Noelle asked, turning in place.

“It’s like… music?” Celes added, scanning their surroundings.

But Ione—had already stopped.

Her gaze was fixed on the sky with her eyes closed. Her mystic eyes could see far beyond what any other human could see.

“Ione?” Noelle stepped closer. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

No response.

“…Why are you crying?”

A tear slid down Ione’s right cheek. She didn’t even notice it.

“It’s… so beautiful…” she whispered.

“What are you—” Celes turned and stopped.

Noelle followed.

And just like that, all three of them fell silent.

Above them—

Countless golden lights drifted upward like floating lanterns, rising gently into the sky.

A vortex of shimmering particles.

And as they ascended, they began to change—stretching into streaks of radiant light that wove themselves into the aurora above.

The sky wasn’t just glowing; it pulsed in a quiet rhythm, almost alive.

Simply breathing with the melody in the air, each note resonating deep within their soul cores.

“…It’s coming from above,” Celes whispered. “We need to get to the top.”

“Yes.” The two agreed.

…

“What is Alicia even thinking…?” Ingrid muttered, her eyes fixed on the sky as Alicia sped ahead alone. “Flying straight into that…? Even if she has healing magic, how is she supposed to heal all those dragons?”

Her voice wavered between frustration and worry.

Regis said nothing.

None of them looked away.

Ingrid narrowed her eyes, trying to make sense of it. “And what’s with those white threads around her…? Is she trying to camouflage herself to get close to the dragons and heal them one by one?”

But—

Then she felt it.

A sudden, overwhelming pressure.

“…Do you feel that?” Ingrid whispered.

Rhea stiffened.

Regis’ gaze sharpened.

Hana instinctively grabbed onto Regis’s sleeve.

The sheer density of magic gathering within the cocoon Alicia had formed around herself—it pressed against their senses, heavy, suffocating… vast beyond comprehension.

And then—it burst.

The cocoon shattered into fragments of light and dissolved into the air.

Alicia emerged.

But—

Not the Alicia they knew.

She stood suspended in the sky, draped in a flowing red kimono that shimmered like woven flame. A translucent sash curved elegantly around her arms and back, trailing like spirit ribbons in the wind. Two small black wings similar to a dragon’s formed behind her back.

From her head, two smooth, circular black horns extended outward, faintly glowing. Her hair, now tied with a red and blue pin, fell into twin tails that swayed gently behind her.

“…Who is that?” Ingrid finally blurted, blinking rapidly. “Why does Alicia look so different again? Are my eyes broken, or am I dreaming? Someone say something!”

Rhea’s breath caught.

“That form…” she whispered. “It’s… similar to my dragon form. How did she—”

“Alicia…” Regis murmured, her gaze steady. “What are you planning?”

“Master looks so lovely…” Hana said softly, her eyes shining.

A low voice rumbled beside them.

“A dragon priestess…” Kuro’s voice carried a hint of fascination. “Beings who can harmonize and command dragons themselves. I have heard they existed in a few worlds. But even I’ve never seen one. Just what kind of being was Zylon and that vile True Hero raising? I’m looking forward to this.”

High above—Alicia raised one hand. A fan materialised in her hand.

With a single, gentle wave—the world changed.

A soft blue energy spread outward, washing over everything.

The air grew dense. Fluid.

“…It feels like…” Ingrid swallowed, “…like we’re underwater.”

Hana blinked, looking around in amazement. “Ooooh? What are these round things…? Are they fish?”

The others noticed it too.

Tiny golden spheres, shimmering softly, circling them like curious spirits.

And then—more appeared.

From the ground below, from the mountains, from the air itself—

Thousands.

Tens of thousands. Golden particles rose into the sky like a silent tide.

Alicia moved her fan again.

And the particles spiraled upward, drawn together into a massive vortex of light—turning slowly, beautifully, like a galaxy being born.

Alicia began to speak in the dragon tongue—spirit-laced words that carried a power of their own, resonating like a melody meant to soothe and harmonize the dragons.

Each word produced a different color of light in the sky, humming through the air and forming a symphony born of nature.

As for how she knew them, the knowledge had been etched into her very soul. Passed down through her analysis of the black dragon’s soul core, and inherited as part of the Dragon Priestess form.

She turned her wrist.

And the vortex shifted.

The golden lights surged forward.

Like a gentle, unstoppable rain of stars.

They fell—spread across the entire swarm of corrupted crimson dragons, engulfing them in a radiant cascade.

Below—

Rhea's hands were clenched tightly together, her eyes locked on the sky.

“Mother…”

Her voice broke into a whisper.

“Please…”

Tears streamed down her face as she poured every ounce of her heart into a single wish.

“…come back.”

◇◇◇

My Aural Arts proved effective—as my strategy steadily purged the corruption from the crimson dragons’ souls.

Threads of my soul—split into countless tiny fragments—drifted outward as golden spheres, merging into the corrupted soul cores of the dragons one by one.

Slowly, gently replacing the contamination bit by bit.

But then—

I reached her.

The giant crimson dragon.

And everything changed.

Her soul core was vast—immense beyond anything I had anticipated. And at the same time, she was the one most affected by the corruption.

The foreign dark matter had seeped deep into her very essence, far more than the others. It didn’t just linger on the surface—it had rooted itself within her core.

I gritted my teeth.

“Then I’ll just have to increase it.”

I forced my soul core to divide further—splitting, multiplying—sending more golden strands toward her.

More. And more. And more.

But—

It wasn’t enough.

The corruption continued to spread… faster than I could replace it.

If I pushed any further, I knew what would happen. The black dragon had already warned me—there was always a chance my own soul could collapse.

Or worse—

Be consumed in the process.

All phenomenon in this world is bound by limits—whether human or nature.

There is always a boundary that’s never meant to be crossed. The same principle held for me, too.

Because, beyond that boundary…

There is always a price to pay. A calamity waiting to unfold.

But I didn’t hesitate. There was no need to stop and think. I had already made my decision long ago.

I didn’t know where this resolve came from…

But I knew exactly what I had to do.

“I will grant her wish.”

I poured more of my soul into the Aural Arts.

A dense surge of golden orbs erupted outward, gathering around me, wrapping my entire body in a radiant sphere.

And then—

Everything stopped.

The wind. The light. The sound.

As if something beyond this world… had pressed pause on reality itself.

…

Down below—

“Hey… is it just me, or…” Ingrid frowned, squinting upward. “…does Alicia look like she’s stuck?”

Regis didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes were locked on the sky.

“Hana,” she said quietly. “What do you feel?”

Hana closed her eyes. For a moment, there was only silence.

“…I can’t feel Master,” she said, her voice trembling. “Her soul energy is very faint. It’s like she is no longer here.”

A sharp chill ran through the air.

Ingrid’s expression stiffened. “…What does that mean?”

No one could tell what Hana truly meant—Alicia was completely obscured within a dense sphere of golden light.

But Regis simply tightened her grip. Her hands clenched so hard they began to tremble.

“I believe in her. Alicia always keeps her promises.”

Her gaze shifted—

Toward Rhea, who stood there clutching the egg to her chest, tears still staining her cheeks.

And yet—

She hadn’t looked away.

Not even once. Because even now—

Even with everything at stake—

She still believed.

That Alicia would grant her wish.

◇◇◇

The moment Alicia activated her strongest aural arts, she already had a faint feeling this would happen.

So, when she found herself standing once again in that endless white room, she didn’t look surprised.

She hadn’t willed it.

And yet, she was here.

This time, however, something was different.

There was a big shiny mirror in front of her.

Alicia’s gaze lingered on it for a moment before stepping closer, but instead of seeing her own reflection, she found herself looking at a young girl—barely half her height—standing on the other side.

Their posture was the same. Their presence felt the same.

But the face…

It was blurred, as though a black crayon had been dragged across her face, smudging her features until nothing remained distinct.

The little girl spoke first.

“Are you really sure this is what you want?”

Her voice carried an odd echo, as though it didn’t fully belong to this space.

“Breaking apart your soul core, just to heal a few dragons. Did you even stop to think about what happens if you disappear?”

Alicia didn’t react with shock. Instead, a small smile formed on her lips, calm and almost relieved.

“Hello,” she said softly. “It’s been a while.”

The little girl blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“…Wait. You remember me?”

There was a flicker in her voice—confusion, maybe even hesitation.

Alicia let out a quiet breath, tilting her head slightly.

“Why wouldn’t I?” she replied gently. “We’ve always been here together, haven’t we? Sharing the same soul, the same mind, the same body. It seems like recently you’ve been trying to switch with me more often. Though I don’t mind.”

Her eyes softened.

“It’s just that… you’ve always been on the other side. And somehow, every time I leave this place, I forget about you again. I wonder who made us like that.”

“…Who did this—?”

The girl frowned, clearly annoyed, and stomped her foot lightly.

“Hey, don’t change the subject!” She folded her arms, making a display of her fury.

“When did you get so clever, anyway, in a conversation? Or is it because you think I’m easy to coax since I’m so little?”

Her voice sharpened again, but it wasn’t as steady as before.

“We were talking about you disappearing, remember? Don’t you realize what happens when you exhaust your soul? What happens to me?”

Alicia’s smile faded, but her expression didn’t waver.

Using one’s soul core directly in the process wasn’t just the same as utilising the soul energy. It meant giving away memories. Experiences.

Everything that made a person who they were.

And when it came to healing something as deeply corrupted as a soul core, there was no gentle method.

“I know what it means,” Alicia said quietly.

If even divine healing alone couldn’t fix a corrupted soul core, then the only way left was to remove the damaged part and replace it with something pure.

And that meant supplying a soul fragment of the same wavelength with the same essence.

That was the reason Alicia had taken on the Dragon Priestess form and also needed to use Hana’s reverse causality technique through the soul link between them.

Only in that state could she perceive the structure of a dragon’s soul, synchronize with it, and match its frequency without tearing it apart. Without that harmony, even touching their soul core would destroy them.

At first, dividing her soul into small fragments had been enough. The golden spheres could slip into the damaged areas and replace the contamination piece by piece.

But the giant crimson dragon was different. Her soul core was too vast. Too deeply altered.

Fragments alone wouldn’t be enough.

Alicia would have to give more.

Memories. Experiences. Identity. The very essence of who she was.

The little girl finally broke the silence first.

“You’re seriously going through with it, aren’t you?” the little girl said, her voice tightening as if she could sense everything Alicia had just resolved.

Alicia nodded faintly.

“Why?”

“And once I activated my aural arts… I realized something.” Alicia placed a hand lightly over her chest. “Even if I don’t remember clearly… there’s a feeling I can’t ignore.”

The room seemed quieter somehow.

“It feels like… There was someone in our life,” Alicia continued slowly, choosing her words carefully, “someone who would have made the same choice.”

Her voice softened.

“No matter how many reasons there were to walk away…”

A small breath escaped her.

“She would have stayed.”

The little girl lowered her head, her earlier frustration fading into something quieter.

“…I see.” As if she exactly knew whom Alicia was talking about.

A brief silence passed between them.

“And you will still do it even if you disappear?” the little girl asked after a moment, her voice much softer now. “I will be left here alone on this side. It’s not the right time for me.”

Alicia stepped closer, closing the distance between them.

“We’re not separate,” she said gently. “We both have our fears. While I have the fear of isolation from my memories. You suffer from the fear of self. But we’re still the same person.”

A faint, almost bittersweet smile appeared.

“At one point,” Alicia continued, “we won’t be divided like this anymore. The day we become one, even our fears will vanish.”

“…Is that really what you want?” the girl asked.

But before Alicia could answer, her tone suddenly changed. “What about them?”

Alicia blinked.

“Your friends,” the girl pressed, her voice rising again, though it trembled underneath. “They’re out there waiting for you. Your parents… Lili… Regis, Hana, Ingrid… Rhea… Kuro…”

Each name came out heavier than the last.

“And Athena.”

The air felt tighter.

“You’re just going to throw yourself away like this?” she continued, her voice breaking slightly. “Wasn’t saving her enough? You already gave away a part of your soul to save Hana.”

Her hands clenched.

“I know I am being selfish. But you need to stop.”

Alicia looked at her quietly. Then she said with a calm certainty. “They’re your people too.”

The little girl froze.

“Mom and Dad… Lili… Regis, Hana, Ingrid, Rhea, Kuro. Athena. They belong to you just as much as they do to me.”

Alicia took another step closer.

“You call yourself selfish, but here you are thinking about me…”

The girl’s breath caught.

“They are not the same things. Didn’t you just say we are one.” The young girl turned away quickly, as if hiding something on her face.

“If there really was no possibility for me to get out of this, I am sure you would have already overtaken and stopped me. But you didn’t. Instead, you called me here. That means there’s really a way.”

“Huh! You are smart. I guess it’s because I am so smart. Yes, you are right. I do have a solution. But don’t always expect me to help get you out of a pinch.” The young girl said with a hint of pride.

“Thank you.”

“Let’s do this together. See you there.”

The white room started to fade. And so did the mirror.

Alicia watched for one last time as the little girl disappeared from the mirror’s reflection. Because she knew once she was out of here, she would forget everything.

◇◇◇

“Ancestors of flame and sky… keepers of the first breath…” Rhea’s voice trembled at first, but she didn’t stop. “If you’re still watching… if you can still hear us… lend us your strength… and return what has been lost.”

She repeated the prayer, again and again, her hands clasped tightly around the egg, as if it were the only thing anchoring her to the world.

“…Hey. What are you doing?” Ingrid glanced at her, confused.

Rhea didn’t look away from the sky.

“This is a prayer,” she said softly, though her voice still shook. “A prayer to the dragons who lived here long before us.”

She swallowed, tightening her grip slightly.

“My mother taught it to me. She said dragons are bound to the world itself… that when they pass, their memories and their souls don’t disappear.” Her eyes shimmered faintly. “They become part of the land.”

A small breath escaped her.

“So, I’m asking them… to help Alicia.”

For a moment, Ingrid said nothing. Then she exhaled and looked back toward the sky.

“…Yeah,” she muttered. “At this point, I’ll take all the help we can get.”

And with that, she clasped her hands and started praying as well.

Regis said nothing.

Her eyes remained fixed on the sky, steady and unblinking, as if she was waiting for something she already believed would come.

But Hana—

Hana suddenly tilted her head, her attention drifting downward.

“Regis,” she said, tugging lightly at her sleeve, her voice filled with quiet wonder.

Regis followed her gaze.

“Look, Regis, there are so many new fish,” Hana murmured, her eyes lighting up. “They are so colorful.”

Tiny lights flickered into existence.

Not just gold this time—

But blue. Green. Crimson. Violet.

There were so many variations to count.

Soft, shimmering colors that pulsed gently like living things.

The lights rose slowly from everywhere—

From the soil beneath their feet.

From the edges of quiet ponds.

From the hollowed caves where dragons once nested.

Even from the ruins of old dwellings long abandoned.

Hundreds.

Then thousands.

Each one glowing softly, carrying a warmth that felt… familiar.

And all of them—moved in the same direction.

Toward Alicia.

“I suppose your prayers have been answered, little one,” Kuro said quietly in the draconic tongue, his voice flickering with awe. “Even in my long life… I have never witnessed something like this.”

But within his mind, his tone shifted completely.

So you found your answer, contractee… Impressive.

Rhea’s eyes widened, tears gathering once more—but this time, they didn’t fall from despair.

“I can feel them…” she whispered. “These… these are our ancestors.”

Her voice broke into a smile.

“They finally heard us.”

Above them, the sky continued to fill with rising lights, each one joining the countless others already gathered around Alicia.

Regis watched in silence, her lips curling into the faintest smile.

Ingrid stood still, no longer questioning, her eyes fixed in silent amazement.

And Hana…

Hana simply reached out, as if trying to touch one of the drifting lights, her expression full of wonder.

As they all looked on, witnessing the quiet, overwhelming majesty of nature as it unfolded.

◇◇◇

The moment I opened my eyes, a dazzling blue light sharpened my vision, allowing me to see the world in a way I never had before.

In my Dragon Priestess form, combined with my mystic eyes… I finally understood.

This land…it was never empty. It never had been.

Beneath the surface, beyond what ordinary sight could perceive, I could see them.

Generations of crimson dragons. Embedded into the land, like echoes that refused to fade.

“…So, you were all here,” I whispered, my voice soft with realization.

They weren’t gone.

Just like seeds that fall, sprout, bloom, give birth to a fruit, and return to the soil, only to nourish life again—

Dragons, too, left behind more than memories.

Their souls had imprinted themselves into this world, becoming a part of it.

And they already knew. They had seen what was happening.

They had felt the corruption spreading through their kin.

I didn’t need to plead or convince them. Because I could feel it—

Their will. Their quiet, unwavering desire to help.

As a Dragon Priestess… I could answer that will.

And so—I did.

At its highest level, Aural Arts doesn’t just affect the environment—it can overwrite the rules of the environment.

My horns began to glow, a soft radiance building at their tips as my hair shimmered, strands lifting gently, like threads of light in a boundless current.

The world trembled—not violently, but as if something ancient had been acknowledged.

The boundary that separated the living from the departed… was never meant to be broken.

As a dragon priestess, I wasn’t bound to one side of the world. I stood between them—between the living and those who had long departed.

And they answered my call.

Light stirred. At first, only a few.

Soft, prismatic glows rising from the earth, from the mountains, from the silent places where dragons once lived and rested.

Then more. And more.

Until the world itself seemed to awaken.

Countless new colorful lights gathered around me, circling, weaving, merging into the golden storm that had once been only my own.

I changed my approach. I stopped forcing my soul outward. Instead, I became the conductor.

A vessel.

A guide for the thousands of souls that belonged to this land.

With each passing soul as they became a part of me, their memories brushed against me.

The rush of wind beneath vast wings.

The warmth of sunlight against scales.

The joy of soaring without end.

The quiet of resting beside one’s kin.

The slow, steady passage of centuries lived in peace.

It was no longer just my will.

It was theirs, too.

The prismatic storm surged once more, brighter than ever, illuminating the sky like a second dawn.

Once I was sure I had collected enough lights. I raised my hand and guided them.

The countless lights gathered, condensing into a massive, radiant pillar that stretched toward the sky like a bridge between worlds.

Then with a single motion—I released them.

“…Let’s bring them all back home.”

The pillar surged forward, splitting into countless streams of light that rained down upon the corrupted dragons.

The world was no longer dark.

The sky above, the earth below, and the corrupted dragons ahead—all were bathed in a living spectrum of light as if the world itself had begun to heal.

◇◇◇