Beyond Cloudfall
Chapter 1
Once, on the day that I lost everything...
Arbiter: The Sorceress has been judged! Greed and evil shall perish so long as His Majesty and the Sacred Judicator protect Philos for all eternity!
The Sorceress has been judged! Greed and evil shall perish so long as His Majesty and the Sacred Judicator protect Philos for all eternity!
Scarlet raindrops enter my eyes, while far below, they gather into a gurgling stream at the depths of the Abyss.
Through my blurry vision, I catch a flash of lightning ripping through Philos's gloomy night sky.
From my periphery to the area in front of me, darkness spreads like an all-consuming ocean. The world descends as the Wanderers' claws close in, their cold, eerie glint like the flash of Death's scythe.
They are beautiful... In them, I can see your hatred, defiance, and greed for life.
The wind ceases, and it feels like time is caught in an invisible grip. I close my eyes before struggling to open them again.
A flash of white light streaks across an ancient rock wall. There I see the shadow of a massive beast with horns.
Chains bind its wings so tightly that, if not for the greatsword lodged in its chest, its massive form would almost merge with the rock wall.
??: Make a deal with me. If you want to live, that is.
MC: (The Fiend... actually exists...?)
??: You don't have time for questions.
In the next instant, the stilled air starts to move again, and a rancid wind howls as the once-frozen Wanderers leap toward me.
Driven by defiance and fury, I raise my hands and grip the rusted sword.
When I pull out the sword, the rust melts away and transforms into light. It surges into my body, mingling with a strand of black-red mist.
Amidst the chaos, wings flap and stir up a whirlwind of sand and gravel.
I'm thrown onto the jagged rocks, my vision growing hazier by the second. All I can see in the darkness is a single, dark-red, gem-like eye.
Enormous wings cut across the land, casting shadows like the end of days over every city in Philos.
On that day, the girl marked for execution unleashed the Fiend from the Abyss.
This was long before humans arrived on this planet. Thousands of years ago, dragons ruled over the lands of Philos. By nature, dragons are wicked creatures that feed on human souls. They excel at drawing out the darkest parts of a person's heart, driving humans to turn on one another and become slaves to their desires. The greedier the soul, the more irresistible it is to a dragon. Seen as the embodiment of evil, dragons were a harbinger of the world's end—wherever they appeared, Doomsday followed. That was until the last dragon on the planet was sealed in the bottom of the Abyss over 1,600 years ago. Doomsday faded into a forgotten myth, and the age of humanity finally began.
I feel as though my chest is being ripped open. An overwhelming weight presses down on my body. I'm immobilized.
The towering, black building looms, its top swallowed by darkness. A scaly beast's claw firmly pins me down to the central platform.
MC: (What's happening... I can't move...)
I look down to see strands of faint golden light being pulled from my body by an invisible force.
I struggle to turn my head. Once again, the shadow of a dragon's horns and wings are flickering on the wall where firelight dances.
Clarity strikes me, and I cry out in pain.
MC: Stop it...! Our deal... I would be kept alive!
The fiendish shadow lowers its head, and its voice pierces my mind.
Dragon: To be a dead person walking counts as being alive.
In between life and death, an uncontrollable tremor erupts from deep within my soul.
A phantom greatsword forms in my hand. It plunges into the beast's chest.
The dragon's pained cry resounds in the hall, and the weight on my body vanishes. Clutching my chest, I quickly sit up.
As my breathing steadies, I realize I haven't been torn open like I thought.
Dragon: I vividly recall you saying "No matter the cost."
The giant beast's shadow fades away, and from the darkness emerges a man wrapped in a blood- red mist.
He watches me like I'm his prey. And similar to the dragon, he possesses a pair of beautiful, garnet-like eyes.
MC: ...I set you free, and you saved me. That means our deal in the Abyss is done.
He slowly approaches me. I quickly stumble as I make my way down the platform. I can barely keep my distance from him.
MC: Dragons can only feed on human souls if they're offered up willingly.
So... as long as I don't agree, you can't eat me.
The Fiend narrows his eyes and approaches me from the other side of the platform.
Instead of claiming your lackluster soul...
You need to return what doesn't belong to you.
The dragon curls a finger. Golden light is once again pulled from my chest.
But the more I struggle, the clearer it becomes-a strange, unsettling black mist is tangled up within me.
It feels like a soul that isn't mine has somehow fused with my own.
Dragon: It's not that unbearable, is it? Having your soul torn apart and all.
The dragon suddenly yanks me across the platform, its blood-red right eye just inches from my face.
In a flash, my mind is dragged into an abyssal vortex. Just when I think I'm about to be devoured-
The wind howls through the crimson valley as countless soldiers of the Legion of Justitia thrust their weapons at my chest.
I quickly realize this isn't my past, and the body writhing in pain isn't mine either.
I gather my strength, tense up, trying to break free from the memory. The valley and wind fade away like weathered paint.
Traces of light swiftly flow back into my chest. It even pulls the Fiend to me.
He covers his right eye with his hand and leans over the platform.
That's a question even I can't answer. Before I can think further, a claw-like hand grabs my chin and pulls me closer.
Cold sweat blurs my vision as his grip around my neck tightens. I can't help but meet his gaze.
A familiar voice resounds in my mind. It's unmistakably mine, yet the tone is strangely foreign.
MC: (His eye... I want that eye... It's mine... It belongs to me...)
Dragon: It's getting stronger... The scent of desire.
Tell me your desire and offer your soul to me. Then I shall promise to give you a painless death.
Unless you wish to become a minion of a dragon's nest.
I grip my hand so tight it nearly draws blood, but how could anyone sell their soul to the Fiend?
MC: I... I don't want anything.
His fingers brush over my lip that I bit earlier. There's a tingling sensation, and his right eye gleams with a faint blood-red light.
(No... I need to come up with something... Anything! So long as it lets me survive...!)
Countless fleeting thoughts that could barely serve as "excuses" flash in my mind. I only managed to grasp one.
MC: Take... Take me back to the Ivory City. I must return...!
Dragon: Your life is hanging by a thread, mortal. And yet you still dare to play tricks.
MC: ...I'm being honest! I used to live in the Sanctuary, but they judged me as a sorceress and threw me into the Abyss.
I won't accept this... I want revenge!
My heart pounds in my chest, and my hand trembles as I reach for my dagger. Suddenly, the restraints on me disappear. I'm forcefully flung back to the platform.
The dark mist skims along the smooth surface of the platform, retreating into his palm. As it does, my wounds close up, leaving no scars behind. It's almost unreal.
Chapter 2
Over 1,600 years ago, after centuries of war with humanity, the dragon, said in legend to bring about Philos's end, was finally sealed in the Abyss beneath the fiend-infested Tarus City by the Legion of Justitia. This decisive event, known as the "Battle of Tarus," led to widespread praise for the Legion. The leader who drove his sword into the dragon's heart was revered as the "Sacred Judicator." Monuments honoring his deeds stand tall across Philos, and his followers built a grand Sanctuary in his name after his death.
Every year, the Sanctuary takes in some of the city's orphans in the name of the Sacred Judicator. It is a place held in even higher regard than the royal palace. When these orphans come of age, a Judicator's Oracle, dressed in magnificent robes, takes them away to join the Legion of Justitia. However... the Judicator's Oracle who came to take me threw me into the Abyss in front of everyone.
The pure-white Sanctuary stands in solemn grandeur, and the pristine marble floor gleams. The intricate wall carvings are well-maintained, appearing new. They looked just like this when I was taken away.
The followers gathered here scatter the moment they see the "sorceress" who was supposed to be dead.
As for the guards, they fall apart like dominoes with just a flick of a finger.
Dragon: Growing up in a cage like this... No wonder your soul is so dull.
MC: (Revenge is important, but so is staying alive...)
(The news of the Fiend's appearance in the Sanctuary must be spreading like wildfire in the city.)
(Once the Legion of Justitia arrives to deal with him... I can slip away in the chaos.)
I watch the last guard disappear from view, pretending I didn't see them as I turn away.
MC: The Judicator's Oracle who judged me isn't here, so my revenge will have to wait—for now, at least. Otherwise—
However, the dragon shows no interest in my plan for revenge. He stands in a beam of sunlight deep within the Sanctuary.
His figure stands out against the pure white architecture. Yet he's like a statue that belongs here.
Taken aback, I quickly shake my head and move to his side.
Following the dragon's gaze, I see the mural on the Sanctuary's ceiling.
At its center is a god-like figure in a bright red cloak, wielding a long sword as he executes an evil dragon in a corner.
MC: Oh... The Fiend-Slaying God.
The god-like man represents the Sacred Judicator, and that evil dragon getting a sword through its chest in the corner... Ahem, that's probably you.
I can't figure out why he keeps staring at it—forget the insult; the dragon is drawn without any semblance of beauty.
The dragon lowers his eyes, casting a calm, scrutinizing glance over my face.
MC: ...Of course, it's just the artist's take. You're much more handsome and imposing in real life.
He looks at the text beneath the mural.
Dragon: It's been 1,677 years since I was sealed away.
MC: It's written in an ancient language that's been lost to time. Nobody can read it anymore. What does it say?
The Fiend looks at the ceiling again.
Dragon: "The Fiend is the very essence of malice and greed, skilled at twisting human desires. He drives mortals to turn against each other, leading them to their own demise."
"Given time, the world will be swallowed by chaos and descend into ruination. The Fiend's arrival marks the onset of Doomsday."
"During the Battle of Tarus, the Sacred Judicator, with a will of iron, stood firm against the corruption of evil.”
"In a war so fierce, he emerged as the sole, honorable survivor."
"He sealed away the Fiend, the very harbinger of Doomsday, deep within the planet's chasm. With the curse of Doomsday lifted, hope was restored to Philos."
MC: I heard the Fiend—which is you—has a destined archnemesis. This individual must be the Sacred Judicator, correct?
MC: Yeah, this story sounds pretty fake to me too.
Sunlight spills through the Sanctuary's entrance. The silence is so intense that it's unsettling.
MC: (The Legion of Justitia still haven't arrived... If there's no one to hold him back, I can't escape…)
I try to think of other ways to stall, so I quickly shift the conversation.
MC: Ah, yes. This is the resting place of your archnemesis.
The Sacred Judicator in the mural might be long dead, but his ashes are kept here. There's even a statue of him in the inner hall.
I sit on the armrest of a bench. Feigning excitement, I rest my chin in my hand and look at the Fiend.
MC: So, what's your pick for revenge? Smash it to bits, douse it in ink, cover it with curses, or scatter his ashes onto the streets?
He falls silent again. I look over and see his countenance veiled in a soft light. It's difficult to discern the emotions hidden underneath.
MC: This man trapped you in the Abyss for over a thousand years while he was worshipped as a hero, basking in glory—
Dragon: Are you referring to that glory built upon ignorant faith? Do you expect me to envy such foolishness?
Swoosh! A Justitia arrow, forged from golden ore and crackling with electricity, cuts through the air right as I speak.
Next to me, the Fiend raises his hand and makes a pinching motion. The flying arrow immediately disintegrates into particles.
Right before the next attack, the Sanctuary is engulfed in a dazzling light that blinds everyone present with its radiance.
Behind the silver light, blades charge straight for the Fiend. They're accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. I step back and look for an opportunity to run outside—
I hear the crisp snap of his fingers behind me. A sharp pain suddenly surges from deep within my chest as if my soul has been taken. I can't move.
My limbs stiffen and move uncontrollably, forcing me to turn around. I gasp as I take in the sight before me.
The guards are tearing into each other like marionettes on invisible strings-slashing, ripping, and killing without mercy.
Blood splatters across the engraved walls. The candelabras are toppled amidst the chaos, setting the drapes ablaze. The stained glass windows, once vibrant, now cast an ominous red glow, reflecting a twisted vision of purgatory.
Haunting wails and screams, echo through the Sanctuary. The Fiend watches as the place descends into a blood-soaked inferno. He scoffs.
Dragon: Even after all these years, mortals are still foolish to the last.
As light streams in through the stained glass, I can see the Fiend's blood-splattered face and the cold, cruel curve of his lips.
(His eye... It's his eye manipulating everything...!)
Dragon. You're only somewhat clever. But it's still a pitiful display.
If you're planning to kill with a borrowed knife, you'd better make sure the blade is sharp enough.
The familiar excruciating pain tears through my flesh once more. And the faint golden light mixed with black mist is once again pulled from my body.
MC: (His eye... It should be mine...)
Dragon: Even on the brink of death, you still dare to covet my eye. You greedy fool.
MC: Wait! You can kill me whenever you like. But if you spare me, I can help you achieve more! And—
I bite my lip hard, forcing myself to stay calm and steady as I speak to him.
MC: I want to live and I want your eye. It's like how you want my soul. Is there a problem with that? It's just too bad that I'm not as strong as you.
The grip around my neck suddenly loosens.
Dragon: You said you could help me achieve more. Give me an example.
I take two steps back. I cover my neck as I steady myself. My mind races, scrambling for anything a dragon might want.
MC: I... can help you amass a large amount of wealth and collect a lot of souls—whatever you need, I can get it for you.
In the next moment, my body is lifted off the ground as he soars into the sky.
Dragon: Ask again, and I'll devour you whole.
With a snap of his fingers, energy erupts from the flames. The columns of fire rise upward and stain the clouds in mesmerizing, crimson hues.
The ground shakes, and the magnificent, solemn Sanctuary at the heart of the city quickly crumbles into ruins.
Dragon: For something as tedious as revenge, this will suffice. No need for a spectacle.
The wind sweeps up the screams and shouts of terror. The Fiend holds me and flaps his wings as he flies off into the blazing sunset.
Before the sun disappears under the horizon, we chase the last fragment of light. We find ourselves in a lair perched atop a cliff.
As I look down in midair, the cliff and lair form a breathtaking sight between the peaks, like the skeleton of a dragon poised to take flight.
He lands on the other side where the lighting is noticeably better. And there are no blood-soaked stone platforms.
Dragon: Have you ever met a fiend with a home?
After the dragon puts me down—although it feels more like I was dropped—he drags his tail along a stone staircase to the upper level of the cave.
Seeing that he isn't trying to restrain me, I turn and run toward the cave's entrance.
Pebbles roll off the cliff, but I can't hear them fall. I stop just in time to stare at the sheer cliffside outside. My heart sinks into the depths of despair.
MC: (...Fine. If I can't go back to the Ivory City, I guess this dragon's lair will have to do.)
Light illuminates the cave every so often. I follow the faint glow up the stone steps and catch up to the figure ahead of me.
MC: I suppose... You won't be eating my soul for now?
Dragon: Assuming that was still the case, why would I even bring you back here?
Of course I don't believe this dragon spared me just because I can help him make money.
But I don't know what he has planned for me. I walk up to him and continue our conversation.
MC: If I'm going to live here, my living quarters should at least be decent. Your cave is too... basic. What do you think?
Following the spiral stone staircase to the top of the cave, I feel as if I stepped into a world that never sees the light.
The dragon stops walking. His tail coils around my waist and lifts me to the final step. With a cold, lowered gaze, he stares at me.
Unspoken words catch in my throat as I watch him snap his fingers. He releases an energy orb that floats into the cave's depths.
One by one, red flames ignite as far as the eye can see. My surroundings are illuminated by their shimmering light. Before me is... an endless array of treasures and luxurious garments.
Dragon: You are not interested?
MC: ...You'd really give these to me?
Dragon: Why not? You're also mine now.
His tail wraps around me again. My body is turned around and pushed toward the treasure trove.
The dragon's lair hasn't been visited for a long time. I make my way to a pile of gold, clear away thick cobwebs, and spot an old, toppled sword rack behind it.
I lift the nearly rotted wood and pick up a dagger that glints with a cold, sharp light.
Dragon: It's called the Fiendbane. Legends say you could plunge it into a dragon's heart and twist it three times to completely shatter the dragon's soul.
I set the dagger down and notice an open box to my right. Inside is a blade that looks like a hidden weapon.
Dragon: The Golden Crow's Feather of Eternity. Designed specifically for gouging out a dragon's eyes.
You humans seem to think the longer the name, the more formidable the weapon. But this little thing isn't even good for trimming my nails.
I turn and look around the vast treasure trove.
MC: I never expected your collection would be all weapons. Do dragons have hobbies too?
Dragon: Your kind brought them here willingly.
MC: I imagine they weren't... particularly polite about it.
Dragon: Indeed. It's a shame those who brought them to me are all dead, and I'm still alive.
MC: So, the sword that sealed you away... Was it really "given" to you by the Sacred Judicator in the mural?
Dragon: He was just lucky to get his hands on it and fortunate enough to drive it into my chest.
But only its true master can wield its power.
MC: (And that sword is inside me now... Does that mean I'm its "true master"?)
I clench my fist, but maybe my timing is off. The phantom of the greatsword doesn't appear as I'd hoped.
Rounding a thick stone pillar, I find myself staring, not at weapons, but at a seemingly endless hoard of treasures—fine clothes, paintings, musical instruments.
Shocked, I can only stare until I realize I just swallowed my saliva.
Dragon; If you want something, just reach out and take it.
In the flickering firelight, our shadows intertwine on the dimly lit wall.
Dragon: Just. Like. This. Let your greed and desire burn a little brighter...
His tail glides up my calf. Smiling, the Fiend leans in to whisper into my ear.
Dragon: This is how you'll become worthy enough to be my meal.
Holding a gem, my hand clenches in fear. I turn my head as his tail suddenly tightens around me. He laughs, watching me struggle in his grasp.
MC: ...No wonder you spared me. You want to fatten me up before going in for the kill.
Dragon: Even so, you still cling to that gem despite being so close to Death's sweet embrace. You truly are a source of entertainment.
MC: Enjoy my company while you can. I might bring you a deadlier experience next time.
Dragon: Who says death can't be entertaining in itself?
The firelight casts shadows under his eyelashes. He leans in. He's so close that I can feel his breath enveloping me. It's reminiscent of liquor's intoxicating aroma.
Dragon: I'll be waiting with bated breath.
Chapter 3 (Abyssal Mark)
That night, the dragon places me with all the treasures he gathered. It's as if I'm one of them. It appears like everything is present, but all I can grasp is the moonlight descending into the lair from an opening. Whenever I close my eyes, the sound of howling wind inside the cave sends me back to that blood-red valley. All I can hear is a dragon's cries. The moment those blades pierce his chest, the same pain and fury also run through me. Perhaps... a fragment of the dragon's soul truly did enter my body the moment I pulled out the sword. At the time, I didn't understand the implications. I also didn't know this would mark the start of a curse.
As dawn arrives, I lie on a pile of gold, squinting at the lackluster jewels. I was twirling the Fiendbane in my hand for the third time.
MC: (He's just going to fatten me up before savoring the kill... I can't let everything go his way...)
(The source of his power is from his right eye. If I could take it…)
After a night of turning it over in my mind, I've decided—I need that eye.
With that eye, I might just be able to escape the dragon and avoid the fate of having my soul devoured.
Which means... I'll have to strike first.
MC: (It will definitely take more than one attempt, and I may not even be able to wound him. But testing the waters can't hurt.)
(He's after my soul. He won't just kill me off.)
(Besides... If he's going to treat me like a pet cat, he shouldn't be surprised if he gets scratched.)
Walking down the stone staircase, I find myself circling around the broken central pillar over and over...
The steps gradually merge with the ground and extend into the depths below. The dragon rests here.
Dragon: Your footsteps are noisy. And you breathe heavily.
Consider yourself lucky. At the moment, I'm bored to tears.
MC: You'd be a fool to think I only brought one dagger!
Dragon: Child's play. I admit you're clever at times. Yet your skills leave much to be desired.
If you still have tricks, now is the time to use them, mortal. I could use a stretch.
MC: (If a direct attack doesn't work, I'll have to try a more subtle approach...)
I don't have anything else... I was just bored and wanted to play around. You'll let me go, yes?
Dragon: Before you tried to kill me, did you consider that it'd end like this?
I see. Your overconfidence truly led you to believe I'd be merciful.
Feel your heartbeat right now.
Don't forget. If I apply more pressure at this very spot…
Your heart will never beat again.
Are you going to stay this weak forever?
This will be the mark for the first time.
Until this mark disappears, you will have two more chances to take my life.
Prove to me that you can be stronger.
My first hunt ends with me being branded with a mark from the dragon. Aside from the dragon who resides in the cave's depths, there's also the cave's opening above where the light pours in—that's another challenge to overcome. Even if the dragon has no interest in hurting me at the moment, I can't let myself stay trapped in this gilded cage with no way out. I tear apart the golden silk carpets from the dragon's lair and weave them into a rope. Using his collection of weapons, I carve footholds into the wall. I throw the rope up again and again. With every fall and every fresh wound, the gap between me and freedom grows a little smaller.
The dragon knows about my escape plan. Sometimes, he even sits on the pile of gold, resting his head in his hands as he watches— He neither helps nor stops me. It takes me a while to realize he isn't just watching—he's studying me out of sheer boredom. Just like I used to watch a cat in the Sanctuary that kept trying to jump over a wall it could never clear.
MC: (I finally managed to reach the top...)
Five days later, at the break of dawn, I finally pull myself out of the cave's opening.
But I learn that while I found a way to freedom, it's also another dead end.
Outside the lair, the Abyss seems bottomless. One can only gaze upon a city of ebony—Tarus City. It is a place where fiends lurk.
An endless crimson mountain range, covered with forests that are void of life with their scorched trees, surrounds the lonely city. There is no other path.
Behind me, a narrow ridge snakes downward, like the spine of a dragon.
Between the vertebrae lies a vast, yawning chasm.
Dragon: You'll die if you can't make the jump.
As I prepare to sprint and leap, the dragon lands behind me.
MC: You won't let me die. Or else you won't be able to have my soul.
However, you're not concerned about me running away.
Dragon: If you can go down without dying, then you may come and go as you please.
I'm also curious to see where a "sorceress" who consorts with a fiend thinks she can go.
With his arms crossed, he floats in front of me. I shoot a glance at his dragon horns and tail.
MC: You're skilled in flapping your tongue to annoy people.
Dragon: Thank you. It's one of my few strengths.
MC: I still haven't found the Judicator's Oracle who judged me. My revenge is far from over.
Looking for him is better than staying here.
Even if you leap down these twenty-one bones, no one in your hometown will be waiting for you.
The dragon tosses me a bloodstained bag.
Dragon: Eyes. Crows pecked out the eyes of the person you're looking for.
My gut tells me this isn't the dragon's doing.
Dragon: You had me destroy a Sanctuary, but the Legion of Justitia took it further—they wiped out an entire city under the pretense that "Doomsday is nigh."
The dragon leisurely floats in front of me, a wicked smile on his face, a blood-red vortex swirling deep in his right eye.
Dragon: The Ivory City is a burning purgatory now. A rare sight, indeed. Shall I take you there?
At the highest point of the dragon's ridge, crimson clouds surge upward. I'm swept into a boundless sea of roaring flames.
After experiencing a moment of vertigo, I feel as if I'm soaring through the air. A massive shadow glides over the burning Ivory City below.
The clash of steel echoes from the bloodstained streets. Stirred by wings, the air carries blood's metallic scent alongside a burnt, acrid smell.
These are scenes the dragon once witnessed. The memories replay in the soul that's hidden within my body.
Dragon: Humans don't need fiends. Their own fear is enough to bring about the world's end.
As if this cruel spectacle of people destroying each other wasn't entertaining enough, I soon find myself falling—
My soul trembles in pure ecstasy as I soar through the roaring flames. I pay little attention to the warm droplets that splash my eyes.
I forcefully shove away the one responsible for these visions. The air turns bone-chillingly cold again. I lose my balance and descend.
Above me, sunlight pierces through heavy cloud cover. Yet the sky grows ever distant as I fall.
The dragon's expression changes from cruel amusement to alarm as he spreads his wings. He flies toward me.
The air no longer moves when a scorching embrace envelops me.
The descent doesn't stop. It's as if I'm being held in a safe cocoon.
The day the dragon and I destroyed the Sanctuary, the war of Doomsday began. I never imagined that the peace sustained for over 1,600 years could be broken so easily. It rained for three consecutive days in Tarus City. I sit in the dragon's lair and receive shiny trinkets every day. One night, a small mountain cat came in to play with me. It wasn't until later that I realized—there's no way a mountain cat could just wander into a dragon's lair on its own. ...Could the dragon be comforting me?
After the storm clears, the sky above the dragon's nest is still shrouded in dark, swirling clouds.
From here, I can see Tarus City—a "city of ebony" that is the opposite of my hometown, a "city of ivory."
That place is chaotic and evil, a home for those who are shunned by others. It's a world different from what I know.
But when night falls, its outline resembles the Ivory City.
A faint breeze blows from behind me as the dragon folds his wings. He lands a few steps away from me.
As I sing the final note, I close my mouth and continue gazing at the distant lights in Tarus City.
MC: A requiem for the departed.
MC: Haven't you ever heard someone sing before?
Dragon: I've never heard you sing.
He sits next to me, and his tail curls behind me.
The nights in Tarus City are always brightly lit. Unlike the flames of war in the Ivory City, desires and revelry burn.
Dragon: I heard you're the Princess of Ivory City.
MC: I was supposed to be a weapon to slay dragons. They told me I could kill a dragon—so they filled my head with a lot of things about them.
But when they decided to execute me, they said I was a dragon.
Dragon: That's how humans are. They fear those who are different.
The night breeze rolls across the ground and carries the scent of charred trees. Maybe there's another forest fire nearby.
Dragon: Why can't you leave that place behind?
I shield a flickering white candle in front of me, its flame about to go out.
MC: It's not that. I just lived there for a long time.
Dragon: Ah, you consider that place your "home."
MC: ...Maybe I just miss the cats, dogs, and birds there.
Dragon: Face it, no matter how much you hate it or want to leave, a home is still a part of your soul.
The more you try to excise it, the more you'll be reminded of who you are.
When I don't respond, he changes the conversation to the topic of my supposed crimes.
Dragon: Enlighten me. What do you and dragons have in common?
MC: ...We have nothing in common. I just broke the rules by keeping a golden lamp with an engraved dragon.
Aside from the one in The Fiend-Slaying God, no dragons are allowed in the Sanctuary. But I could only talk to that little dragon.
And one day, they caught me talking to it.
Even now, I can't help but laugh when I remember the Judicator's Oracle's expression upon seeing that obsidian dragon coiled around the lamp.
MC: To think a carefully trained, dragon-slaying weapon would cherish a dragon instead.
The Judicator's Oracle looked like he had been attacked by a dragon. Hysteric, he ordered me to destroy my dragon.
I know it's just an object. Destroying it would be easy.
I remember clutching the little dragon as I was forced into a corner. The shadows of the crowd engulfed me like a tide.
MC: ...But I didn't want to listen to them that day.
The essence of the Ivory City is reflected in its citizens. People dress nicely, exude grace, and possess untainted souls. The Judicator's Oracle says desire is the seed of calamity. Excessive indulgence will allow this disease to grow quietly. So, I had to act like everyone else. I needed to abide by proper etiquette, say the right words, and bind my hands and feet with invisible white threads. All of these things turned me into a puppet without a heart. But... they still burned my dragon. To kill my dragon, they framed me for a great crime. They sentenced a puppet to death because it had one desire.
MC: Since they've branded me a "sorceress..."
Fine, then. How could I not do what a sorceress is supposed to do?
Strands of my hair flutter as I look at the dragon beside me.
MC: Since they destroyed what was most precious to me, it's only fair that they surrender what's most precious to them.
Everyone wearing a sacred robe should have their chest split open to see their truest selves.
The threads binding me are cut away, one by one. I tighten my fist and finally see what's wrapped inside—a heart still beating.
MC: Revenge and plunder—that's my desire. If you can make it happen, my soul is yours.
The night grows colder, and the candle finally flickers out.
The dragon doesn't respond to my deal. He just leans in closer.
Dragon: Do you know what you look like right now?
Dragon: You're a young dragon who just grew her horns.
Upon imagining this, I lower my head and start laughing.
Maybe he's right. With my little dragon gone, horns grew in my heart.
Dragon: Growing dragon horns symbolizes a rebirth. It's a good thing.
MC: What about you? How did it feel when you grew your horns?
Dragon: ...It was nothing special.
The dragon sits back down, avoiding my gaze.
MC: Then are you a dragon or a human?
Maybe he doesn't hear me—or maybe he just ignores it. He lets out a chuckle.
MC: ...I know my request can be considered unreasonable. It's fine if you can't do it.
Dragon: Even if your desire is to resurrect the people of the Ivory City, it's still within my capabilities.
MC: Is this a fiend's act of kindness?
Dragon: People are far more interesting alive than dead.
If you truly want revenge, the best way is to keep them alive.
Or would you say this world is the closest thing to hell itself?
You can only feel pain when you're alive.
His expression is malicious when he speaks, but his eyes sparkle like gemstones.
I recall the dragon in the valley with a sword in its chest.
MC: Is this the wisdom you've learned as a dragon?
Dragon: You faced death before. You should know the answer.
MC: Do you think you'll devour my soul first? Or will I pluck out your eye first?
The dragon ignores my mischievous question and looks beyond Tarus City.
I know our conversation is brought to a close.
MC: It's boring without music. It sounds better with an organ accompaniment. Can you get one for me?
Dragon: It's a simple matter. Consider it done.
He gets up to leave, and I grab hold of his tail.
MC: You can't eat me for now, and I won't be leaving anytime soon. Looks like we'll be stuck with each other for a while.
What should I call you? Demon? Dragon? Or maybe... Drago?
The Fiend gives me a cold stare.
Sensing his boredom, I shut my mouth, but then I hear two faint syllables rumble from his throat.
MC: "...Stayrus?" Or are you telling me to stay clear?
Dragon: It's an ancient Philosian word. Since you can't read it, you probably won't understand it.
MC: How about I call you by a name that sounds similar? Is Sylus all right with you?
Dragon: Call me whatever you want. But don't expect me to respond.
The dragon rises, and his unseen wings stir up small gusts around him.
MC: Where are you going, Sylus?
He takes a half-step back and falls off the cliff.
On the night I learn the dragon's name, I see him again in my dream. He falls into the valley as soldiers from the Legion of Justitia thrust their weapons into his chest. He slides down, and sharp rocks tear into his flesh. A dragon's roar fills the valley, then slowly fades into silence. But at the bottom of the valley, it's not a dragon lying there. It's a young man, barely clinging to life.
Chapter 4
Tarus City sits near the foot of the dragon's lair. The origin of its name is lost to time, but it's said to be connected to the Abyss.
And unlike other cities, Tarus City's market is—
MC: The stall we passed by... A Wanderer's head was being displayed.
Sylus: You reacted quickly. Should I remind you that you're currently fiddling with a Wanderer's thigh?
Sylus: What? Are you terrified?
MC: No, I just suddenly thought of something.
That painting we were looking at earlier... Is the canvas made from dragon hide?
Sylus: I don't remember my voice sounding this annoying.
I drag the dragon into one strange shop after another, even though I know there won't be any pipe organs for sale.
"I'll take what's most valuable in this world"—that's the deal he silently agreed to.
But right now, I just want to see an invincible fiend looking troubled.
MC: You have no intention of disguising yourself?
Sylus: No need. No one would believe a fiend would wander around a market.
Besides, everyone sees a fiend differently—some see ugliness, others see horror, cruelty...
What they see isn't me. They only see their own hearts.
I hold up a mirror from a stall. It reflects the face of the dragon.
MC: Can you guess what I see when I look at you?
He lowers the mirror as if he heard a childish joke. He leans closer.
Sylus: At the very least, I'm a lot more handsome than I was depicted in that Fiend-Slaying God mural.
MC: I thought the famous market of Tarus City would be more interesting, given how it's known for fiend-related items. It turns out to be just a bunch of normal stuff.
Sylus: You won't be able to find wind chimes made of finger bones anywhere else.
I pick up a small obsidian sculpture.
MC: They even have a goat bone amulet... People in the Sanctuary dislike these kinds of things because they believe horns represent fiends. Yet they're quite popular here.
Sylus: Do you want it? In that case, you can carry this stuff back by yourself later.
MC: ...I want something smaller and more intricate. There's a fiend's horn ring, a fiend's wing necklace... This volcanic stone pendant isn't bad.
Sylus leans down to look. However, he scoffs.
Sylus: Pitch-black and shaped like a crippled dragon.
I place the pendant back. I turn my head and my eyes light up again.
MC: Look at this fiend's eye bracelet. Isn't it more adorable than the treasures in your lair?
Sylus: You see a cheap, thin coating as beautiful? Are the cracks special?
Did you come here just for these?
MC: ...I can't believe I almost forgot how sharp your tongue is after we spent so much time together. Getting a nice word out of you is like pulling teeth.
I fiddle with the bracelet in front of me.
MC: Since my taste doesn't seem to align with yours, why don't you tell me about the most valuable piece in your collection?
Sylus: The painted oil lamp made out of pure gold and that ruby necklace.
You wouldn't use them if I gave them to you. Why are you interested in cheap things?
MC: You actually measure worth based on monetary value?
I sigh dramatically and click my tongue, trying to appear deep and wise.
MC: You certainly live up to the stereotype of dragons being greedy for treasure... However, true value comes from something a little warmer.
Take this bracelet for instance. It might not look impressive, but it carries a great significance.
Ignoring his dark, brooding look, I grab the dragon's hand and, without waiting for permission, slip the bracelet onto his wrist.
MC: Here. Look at the words engraved on it.
Sylus: "The Fiend shall always shield you"? How warm and comforting.
The dragon glances down at the bracelet but doesn't take it off right away.
The pupilless merchant senses something and quickly faces us. He taps his tobacco pipe with pinpoint accuracy on the bracelet.
Merchant: One piece of information or thirty gold coins for the bracelet.
MC: For this bone bracelet? At best, it's worth—
I'm about to start haggling, but when I look up, the dragon is already opening his pouch. A cascade of gold coins spills from his hand onto the counter.
The blind merchant doesn't move to count them. His ears just twitch slightly.
Merchant: You've given too much. Rules are rules—I'll keep the gold and give you two pieces of information.
First—the Fiend has returned. The Legion of Justitia will march to Tarus City soon.
Sylus and I exchange a glance. The merchant, expressionless, turns his face toward me.
Merchant: As for the second one...
Before long, the Fiend will meet his destined archnemesis once again.
He tilts his pipe, and my eyes follow. In the distance, beyond the barren forest, I spot an obsidian spire jutting out.
I hook my arm around the dragon's neck, stand on my tiptoes, and whisper in his ear.
MC: ...Isn't that the place where you tried to eat me for the first time?
Sylus: Do you wish to return for the sake of nostalgia?
MC: I don't see why not. Who knows? Maybe something unexpected will occur there.
Sylus: An abandoned, dilapidated chapel won't offer anything worth the trek.
Don't forget why I'm here with you.
I let go of the dragon's neck and pretend to be displeased.
MC: It's not like you just found out I'm insatiable. If I can't get the organ, I'll just grab a few other things as consolation.
These, these, and these... Don't they all suit you perfectly?
I quickly pick up a few, intricately designed accessories and shove them into the dragon's arms. Then, I stand on my tiptoes to hang a bone wind chime on his horn.
Our gazes meet. I blink at him as I'm still standing on my tiptoes.
The evening sky casts a soft, rosy glow over the dragon. He looks at me for a moment, then sets the coin pouch on the table.
Sylus: …Since you want all of them, don't leave a single one behind.
Take everything. We're leaving.
I open my arms to the dragon and he lifts me. He carries me and my treasures as we soar over Tarus City.
Chapter 5
During my days in the dragon's lair, Sylus and I achieve a delicate balance. I couldn't obtain his eye, and he never brought up the fiendish deal that would cost me my soul. We live like true companions, together in the dragon's lair above Tarus City. When dusk descends, we venture out for reckless raids and return with our spoils before dawn. My favorite sight was watching the Judicator's army, who had been ruthlessly extorting people with warnings of impending doom, fall to their knees at the sight of a real fiend and a resurrected sorceress. The thrill of revenge made my soul tremble. And each time, he would ask me, "Is there anything else you desire?"
The dragon personally nurtures my ambition as he leads me from one raid to another. Regardless of how dangerous the target is, as long as I say, "I want it," he fulfills my every wish without fail. Fate tumbles like an uncontrollable bead rolling into a bottomless abyss. Under the guise of helping me get my revenge, he feeds the beast in my heart called "Desire." I know he is. Yet slowly... my heart gains new desires.
MC: This place. And over here... We've already been to these places, correct?
I sit cross-legged on a new cushion. I eat some fruit and mark several areas on a starmap.
The pomegranate I had set my eyes on gets taken away before I can move my hand. Ignoring my glare, Sylus taps the edge of the starmap.
Sylus: Didn't you say you wanted the minerals and starships here?
His tone barely conceals his excitement. On my shoulder, the mark he left faintly burns with the blood-red gleam in his eyes.
I touch the burning skin and recall the Sanctuary we raided two days ago.
A Judicator's Oracle, wearing a splendid white robe, is held up by one hand. A rabid, bestial cruelty boils in the dragon's eyes.
MC: (Back then, the mark hurt just like this...)
I shook my head and decided not to think about whether the pain was an omen of things to come.
I rest my chin on my hand as he says a long, drawn-out "ohhh."
MC: You remember everything I said.
Sylus raises an eyebrow and takes a blood orange from the silver platter.
I quickly snatch it away. When he's caught off guard, I arch my back like a cat and pounce. I press a silver knife against his neck.
MC: Be honest with me. What do you gain from indulging my desires like this?
I pin him down against a cushion. The knife and bleeding wound dissipate into crimson light particles as he chuckles.
Sylus looks up at me. We can feel each other's breaths. As he raises his head, his nose gently brushes against mine.
What's in it for you to attempt an assassination with such a weak hand?
Before the curtains, our eyes meet. The afterglow is reflected in his eyes which emit a surreal warmth.
A strange flutter brushes against my heart, and a soft laugh escapes my lips. I return to my original spot before peeling and savoring a pomegranate.
MC: You don't need to tell me. The greedier the soul, the more delicious it is. Am I mistaken? In any case, let's hope it doesn't backfire on you.
Sylus laughs. As I take out another pomegranate seed, he leans in and snatches it with his teeth.
You haven't fled because you're waiting for an opportunity to take my eye. Is that right?
But as I stare into his eyes, I find that I don't truly want to hurt him.
Besides the horns and tail, he's almost no different from a human.
Aside from searching for places to plunder, the dragon and I often meet at the top of the lair. Sometimes, I tell him the stories I've heard. He rarely speaks as if he's engrossed. Or perhaps he just wants someone to watch the moon with him. Occasionally, the dragon talks about himself. He speaks about the myriad of dragon-slaying weapons in his treasure trove and the 108 ways humans have tried to kill him. But most of the time, we just sit together and say nothing. The gentle night smooths his sharp scales and reveals his true form.
The sun is setting, and the rocks still retain daylight's warmth.
Drowsy, I'm in the middle of relaxing and drying my hair that I just washed.
Sylus: Does your song truly need an organ? We already bought a bone flute.
I don't know when the dragon decided to lie down next to me. I pat his damp hair.
MC: Why don't I teach you the song since you like it so much?
MC: You don't want to? Or you don't think you can learn it?
I cup his face in my hands and make him meet my gaze.
MC: I just realized something these days.
You don't understand a song's melody, can't see the beauty in patterns, and can't even taste the flavors of food. Is that right?
Sylus: Dragons don't need those things to survive.
He escapes from my hands, yet I detect a hint of awkwardness in his words.
MC: You act mature, but you were sealed away for so long... Sylus, you're still a young dragon, aren't you?
MC: You only just learned how to hide your wings...
I gently stroke the horns on top of his head. Then, my hand glides down his prominent spine and reaches his tail.
MC: But you can't hide your horns and tail.
Are you an adult? Don't tell me you're just acting mature because you're worried about ruining your "fiendish" image.
The dragon stays silent and flicks his tail away from me. He loops it around us, and it touches the small of my back.
Sylus: Are you trying to say you've uncovered my secret?
A defiant force gently pulls me toward the dragon's chest.
Sylus: All right, let's assume there is a young dragon before you. What will you do? Eat it?
I'd tell it that we're doing something humans call "hugging."
Sylus: Then do humans still hug each other even when they want to kill each other? Like us?
Clouds drift across the sky and cover the moonlight for a moment. It's difficult for me to discern his facial expression.
Some words are like the moonlight hidden by the clouds. Once the moment passes, there's no need to say them anymore.
I roll into a more relaxed position and lie on my back.
MC: What does a human soul taste like?
We've known each other for so long, but I've never seen you eat... Have you never eaten a soul?
The dragon remains on his side. He stares at me as if my face holds secrets he hasn't discovered yet.
Sylus: Most human souls are disgusting. They're even less appealing than a Wanderer's Protocore.
MC: When I first saw you, you said my soul was "lackluster." Was that actually a compliment?
Sylus: Indeed, it's as lifeless as a slice of turkey meat.
Thinking back, I can't help but laugh.
Sylus: Is there something else you want?
Maybe I just wanted to know if a dragon, capable of luring humans into darkness...
Could truly feel the human emotion called "love," a desire that goes beyond mere survival.
In his world, apart from survival and killing, could there also be room for organs and hugs?
Or maybe the person next to me only appears to be human.
And his indulgence toward me is just so he can obtain my soul.
MC: Sylus, those gems and weapons are boring. If you want to cultivate my desire, you need to give me something rarer.
I can't stand being the only one who's troubled by this thought.
So, I demand something from him he can never own and will never offer.
The dragon's tail loops around me again. Its tip brushes against my cheek and lifts my chin.
Sylus: So, I take it you're not talking about "offering a soul to feed a fiend."
MC: This is something humans do. After two people exchange souls, they never betray each other. Are you willing to do that?
Sylus: How do you normally exchange them?
I move closer to him and lift myself up to plant a kiss on the dragon's forehead.
He doesn't understand it. He will never understand it.
After the kiss, I turn and lie back down in front of the dragon, those garnet-like eyes inches away from mine.
MC: ...That means someone is willing to entrust their soul to another.
The dragon's tail gently pats my cheek.
Sylus: Perhaps you should first know the fate of those who seek a fiend's soul.
As expected, he looks surprised and then laughs.
Sylus: A fiend's love? What are you going to do with something that doesn't exist?
MC: If it doesn't exist, then it's even more precious.
Sylus: Speak. What does it mean to truly love a person? Have you ever loved anyone before?
MC: ...No, but I know exactly what to do.
I move closer to him and lift myself up to plant a kiss on the dragon's forehead.
When humans fall in love, they want to kiss it. Maybe... dragons feel the same way.
The dragon's claws sweep across my cheek. Once again, he looks at me as if I'm prey.
Sylus: But maybe you should know the fate that befalls a dragon's lover.
Tarus City's tavern is always open. Onstage, a woman wearing a fiery red dress has just left.
Amidst the boisterous cacophony from the drunkards, I sit next to Sylus who's in the shadows by the window. I wear a hooded cloak.
MC: How are the souls here? Does their scent make you feel nauseous?
Sylus: It's chaotic, but it's still better than the hypocritical Sanctuary.
Thud. A waiter has placed a wooden cup filled with red liquid in front of me before walking away.
Under the lights, a dragon's roar suddenly resounds as an actor with dragon wings on his back sings center stage.
Sylus didn't bring me here for a midnight snack.
MC: You're already a dragon. Why do I need to watch a fake one?
Sylus: Don't you humans like stories? Watch it.
It seems to be a very long story. The actor who's playing the dragon sings for a long time without changing.
Bored, I stir the beef sauce on my plate. Words fly over my head since I'm barely paying attention.
The body next to me is warm. I wrap the dragon's tail around myself and move closer. Resting my head on his shoulder, I drift in and out of sleep.
MC: ...Other cities should be chaotic because of the Legion of Justitia. But the people in Tarus City still have happy lives.
Sylus: The people here are like seeds. They only grow if they're fortunate.
Even if they sprout, they might not survive the next day. They can only live in the moment.
MC: Are we also people who "might not survive the next day"?
Sylus: What are you trying to say?
I grab the dragon's wrist. Smiling, I narrow my eyes.
MC: ...I want to say something that's more precious than any treasure a human could obtain.
MC: I like who you are right at this moment.
I turn away and notice how the dragon's face is faintly reflected on the window.
I secretly watch him and notice his smile that vanishes as quickly as it appears.
He grips my shoulder and forces me to face him.
Sylus: Are you trying to move me with your human love?
MC: I said it because I wanted to. Now that moment has come and gone.
The dragon pulls my hood over my eyes. My heart slightly trembles, but all I receive is a gentle flick.
Sylus: Too late. I'll remember this.
I turn and the story onstage has reached its final act.
The actor playing a fiend embraces and kisses his lover. At the same time, he plunges his blood-soaked claws into her chest.
At night, the dragon carries the sleepy girl through Tarus City's crowded alleys.
No one spares them another glance. It truly looks like he's an ordinary human returning home in the moonlight.
MC: Sylus... I don't understand the play you made me see. Maybe I fell asleep halfway through.
Sylus: Then sleep. It wasn't an interesting play in either case.
MC: But I want to hear it. You must tell me, or else I'm going to have nightmares.
Figures surround them. He could fly her back to the dragon's lair. But tonight, he wants to walk a bit longer with her.
Sylus: In the beginning, the dragon lived in a valley with other dragons.
Amongst his kin, he was the only one with a human appearance. He mistakenly believed he was a normal person.
But as he grew older, horns sprouted from his head and a tail from his back.
He had never seen anything like this on someone before. He was scared, so he picked up a blade because he wanted to remove them.
But the horns and scales would grow back, dripping with blood. It didn't matter how many times he cut them.
He turns and walks onto a small path. There are fewer people here. His voice softens as if he's actually lulling her to sleep.
Sylus: After a long time, he finally came to terms with being a monster with horns…
But then, the love of his life appeared.
The moment she pulled out her sword, he knew she was the one destined to kill him... She was his archnemesis.
But somewhere along the way, he stopped wanting to consume her soul.
Sylus: She showed him human love and companionship, making him think he could live like a human too.
And slowly, without realizing it, he began to forget he was a dragon.
Maybe it was the first time she climbed to the cave's opening, and the morning light touched her dirty, scraped face.
Or maybe it was her unchecked, ever-growing desire that reminded him of his old self.
Or perhaps, deep down, she's also a little monster with horns of her own.
Sylus: Yet a monster can never truly become a human. He cannot escape his fate as a dragon, nor can he love anyone for long.
Dragons have an inherent tendency to toy with human desire. But in the end, they inevitably become enslaved by it and turn into true monsters...
At the end of the story, he killed his beloved.
As he walks away, the lights fade behind him. He pulls off his cloak, revealing the creature beneath—his form with dragon horns and a tail remains.
MC: Sylus, do you hate humans?
Sylus: I wouldn't say I like them for now.
Invisible wings slice through the air. Carrying the sleepy girl, he soars through the skies.
...What about you? Why stay by a dragon's side?
Chapter 6
What happened that night at the tavern, along with the words we exchanged, is never brought up by us ever again. By the light of day, it became a dark, absurd secret hanging between us. Tarus City revels every night, where shallow desires are easier to face than genuine feelings.
With the return of the Fiend, Doomsday's ominous shadow once again haunts the war-torn lands of Philos. Under the guise of exterminating the Fiend, the Legion of Justitia sparks wars across the planet. Those who dare to oppose them are branded as "Sinners" and put on trial in the Court of Justitia. The Sacred Judicator's authority hangs by a fragile thread. The long-standing resentment among the people reaches its boiling point, and it's fueled by the Fiend's resurgence. Meanwhile, Sylus and I pay no mind to it all. Our path of plunder stretches across nearly every corner of the world. But... amid this feast of desires, as my thirst for revenge deepens, the cursed dark clouds gather thicker around me and the dragon, casting ever darker shadows over our fates.
Judicator's Oracle: Please... Please don't kill me! Spare my life, and I'll... I'll do anything for you!
Ah, yes. Money. I have plenty of treasures. I collected them from different places. You can find them in the inner sanctum. The key is right here—Ugh!
Black-red mist wafts past him, and the owner of the Sanctuary twitches. He falls to the ground.
I take the key from his stiff hand, dangle it on my pinky, and follow Sylus into the luxurious inner sanctum.
I can't remember how many places we've raided.
The guards and traps in this place are remarkably sophisticated. They even managed to injure Sylus. Unfortunately for them, they serve an incompetent master.
MC: I bet those guards never imagined they'd be risking their lives for a cowardly impostor.
Have we made quite the name for ourselves?
Sylus: After raiding so many places in a row, I thought you'd display some self-awareness.
Sylus appears disinterested, his gaze briefly scanning the treasures behind the door before moving elsewhere. Yet his eyes linger on something beyond a nearby sheer curtain.
The wind lifts the curtains and reveals a massive organ in the wall. Its presence is illuminated by the setting sun.
Sylus: What a pleasant surprise.
Smiling, I put down the jewelry I was holding and adjust my dress. I sit down before the organ.
Melodious music resounds while the wind sweeps through the building. Sunlight casts a radiant glow and harmoniously blends with the enchanting melody.
My performance ends, and the Sanctuary falls silent.
I get up and retrieve the sword resting near the organ.
MC: A requiem is meant to soothe the dead, but the souls in this place don't deserve it.
Standing on my tiptoes, I move closer to Sylus. As soon as he narrows his eyes, I quickly step to the side and gracefully ascend the stairs.
MC: They were sanctimonious enough when they were alive—I have no intention of praising their ugly souls.
My fingers brush over the renowned painting adorning the wall. I turn, lift the hem of my dress, and sit on the sacred throne positioned at the top of the stairs.
I point my toes, and in silence, I hook my leg around the dragon's as he reaches the last step. Just as he leans forward, I tug him closer.
MC: To live freely and die without regrets.
Our breaths mingle, and our heartbeats sync.
Light ripples in his eyes, and his lips slowly curl into a smile. With a flick of his tail, he catches me off guard, wrapping it around my waist and pulling me in.
Sylus: Are you aware of your soul's scent?
He meets my gaze, leaning in provocatively. His breath teasingly caresses the pulse in my neck.
Sylus: It's akin to a strong liquor topped off with salt... Forever boiling and never satisfied.
A shiver ripples through me, deep in my body. The mark on my shoulder burns with a heat like never before.
I wonder what's boiling inside the dragon... at this very moment.
I don't retreat. In this intimate proximity, I reach out to brush my fingers against his lashes.
What is it... that you desire?
The fading sunset casts a hazy glow over everything, spilling over his brow and rolling down his throat.
He says nothing. I take his silence as consent, but just as I reach for his right eye, my wrist is suddenly gripped tight.
The moment his skin touches mine, memories tainted by a bloody hue flash before my eyes.
A bloodstained young man turns his head in the unfathomable darkness. He seems to be…
Sylus: You ask too many questions.
His voice shatters the illusion. I return to reality, and Sylus has already released my hand. A sinister, blood-red gleam flashes in his eye.
Sylus: I've never asked you that.
MC: It's a shame I won't ever learn how to be tactful.
The mark on my shoulder throbs and burns. I move ahead of him and block his path.
MC: Were those guards not enough for you?
MC: You still want to hide it from me?
I sweep the strands of hair away from my neck, revealing the mark he left behind.
MC: Whenever your hunger for souls flares up, this mark you gave me stirs, too.
Lately, it's been acting up more frequently.
I take a step toward him. Without hesitating, I caress the area around his eye.
When our skin touches again, the mark on my shoulder flares with heat, and a familiar, searing pain floods through me.
I stagger back. Yet an inexplicable bond persists and connects me to him.
Sylus: Crossing the line again and again and again... Other than your desire, your audacity is boundless.
Suddenly, a force erupts, flinging me several steps away. I brace myself against the edge of a table, steadying my stance.
As I lift my head, I notice thin wisps of dark mist slipping from beneath Sylus's hand, which covers his right eye.
Thick clouds silently shroud the Sanctuary's ceiling. Half of his body sinks into the shadows, and he lowers his arm with a ragged breath.
Black-red energy particles drift from the corners of his eyes, and his gaze is now completely drenched in blood-red.
Sylus: Did you forget what I truly am?
The oncoming black mist binds my limbs. Sylus's face is lost in the shadows, hidden from view.
MC: (...Something's wrong with him right now!)
The shackle around my neck suddenly tightens, and the pain from the depths of my soul strikes again.
MC: Are you going to devour me? No, you won't—Ugh!
Sylus: I won't? Have you spun so many lies that you've begun to believe them yourself?
Shall I remind you? You are nothing. You are but a soul that was fed by a fiend.
MC: (No... this isn't who he really is...!)
The mark on my shoulder grows like thorns. It tightens its grip around my body.
My strength drains away, my vision blurs. With my senses slipping, all that remains is an empty husk.
Sylus: So long as I desire it, I can feast at any time...
My body thrashes. In the vast void of near-death, the chaotic screams in my mind slowly crystallize…
MC: (Eat... Eat him. Devour him...!)
A thin streak of golden light bursts from the mark and surges down my arm to my palm, shattering the bind that holds me.
The terrifying suffocation devours my consciousness. Yet something appears in my hand and guides me to strike at Sylus.
Warm liquid splashes onto my cheek. The blood- red greatsword solidifies from a phantom into reality, and I thrust it into his chest.
His scarlet eyes widen in disbelief as we lock gazes, the air heavy with silence between us.
Judicator's Oracle: The dragon... The Fiend has been slain!
The Judicator's Oracle bursts into the Sanctuary with the Legion of Justitia, their voice frantic and uneven as they shout out.
Judicator's Oracle: Capture it! Capture it now!
My hand trembles. The sword dissolves, turning into light and returning to my body.
The force restraining me loosens its grip. I fall onto the pristine floor of the Sanctuary.
MC: No... That sword... I didn't mean to...!
Blood bursts from Sylus's chest, and the soldiers' blades are poised right at his head. In his current condition, facing off against the Legion is a grave risk.
I grit my teeth, get up, and shove him past the white stone doors behind us.
The doors slam shut. I turn and snatch up a weapon, pointing it at the soldiers crowding in.
MC: You saw it yourselves-the Fiend couldn't best me. Anyone who steps closer will meet their end by this sword!
Behind the white stone doors, blood continues to fall onto the floor. It seeps out from the cracks. The whispers of desire grow louder. The blood-red hue in Sylus's vision surges and boils. His gaze is nearly drowned in crimson. Ignoring the grievous injury from the greatsword, he only knows that the curse almost came true. He almost lost his mind and killed her.
The boiling, nearly irrational urge to kill rages on, refusing to calm. The wounds on his body remain open, unhealed. He gets down on one knee, and sharp claws begin to sprout from the hand covering his right eye. An irresistible force pierces through his flesh and bones. It transforms into massive wings that spread wide from his back.
The Sanctuary's pristine bell tower trembles as a savage force destroys it from within. A roar resounds from the collapsing rubble. The mad dragon spreads his wings and surges forth before crashing to the ground amidst the humans' screams. Wings struggle to flap. He stumbles. A vortex stirs, nearly leveling all the buildings in its path. And then, he finally flies toward the distant Tarus City.
Chapter 7
The sight of the dragon rampaging through the city and flying off toward Tarus City haunts every soul that day. When I finally break free from the chaos of the Legion and rush out of the Sanctuary, I only see his figure disappearing into the storm clouds. The trail of blood left along his flight path makes people realize—this Fiend is gravely injured. Soon, every faction of the Legion and every opportunist seeking to profit from the death of a dragon heads for Tarus City.
I steal the armor of a dead soldier and blend into the ranks. I make my way over to the dragon as quickly as I can. I need to reach him before anyone else does, before they try to end him. Even if fate just showed me—I'm the only one who can truly kill him.
When I arrive at Tarus City, I see nothing but soaring flames. The dragon's lair on the cliff has been reduced to rubble.
MC: (How could this have happened...?!)
The Legion of Justitia have set up numerous traps and ambushes along the way. I hear the shouts carried by the wind.
Soldier: The Fiend is wounded! He can't have gone far. Keep looking!
MC: (But where could he be... He's not in Tarus City. And he's definitely not in the Abyss. What other places...)
The brand on my neck burns with a pain from deep within my soul. It's pulling the soul fragment the dragon left inside my body.
My gaze unconsciously drifts across the withered forest and lands on the obsidian spire that has partially collapsed.
Merchant: Before long, the Fiend will meet his destined archnemesis once again.
MC: (His destined archnemesis...)
I force a passing soldier off his mount, take his horse, and race toward the black chapel.
The closer I get to the building, the more vivid the crimson bloodstains along the mountain path become.
The horns and shouts calling for the dragon slowly fade, leaving only the rapid hoofbeats and my anxious heartbeat to fill the silence.
By the time I reach the obsidian steps, the tiny stream of blood has nearly dried.
When I push open the gate of the long-abandoned chapel nestled deep within the forest, the cold moon hangs high in the night sky.
The bright light filters through the shattered spire. Dazed, I see the dragon, barely alive. He lies in the center of the room.
There's no reply. I run over to him and pay no attention to the Legion of Justitia who have died to his claws.
On the raised platform, the dragon's eyes are closed. His body is drenched in blood, the droplets dripping from the edge.
MC: How could this be... Aren't your wounds supposed to heal fast?!
I try to stem the bleeding, but it's futile. His chest—
MC: (This... is the wound I gave him...)
All his wounds remain as is. They don't show any signs of healing.
A sudden roar resounds as the dragon opens his eyes. A fierce gale pushes me back and slams me against a pillar.
A sharp, metallic taste fills my mouth. His fangs are at my neck, puncturing my skin. One more push, and he'd snap my spine.
MC: Sylus. Sylus... You're Sylus...
The mark on my shoulder boils with the agony only death could deliver. I suppress my fear, lift my trembling hand, and gently place it on the dragon's eye.
A soft requiem echoes within the spacious room.
The roaring slowly subsides, as if something deep inside him stirs awake. The dragon begins to struggle violently.
The bestial chaos in his eyes clears. When the song ends, his gaze finally reflects my face.
I close my eyes and press my lips against the dragon's.
A moment later, a familiar figure appears before me. His lashes flutter as he stumbles, collapsing with me onto the cold floor.
MC: Sylus... Sylus! Wake up! Don't fall asleep... Sylus!
Black mist spills out from every wound in his body as if his very life is being drained away.
Our blood mixes together on the slippery, cold floor. When my blood touches his chest that's shrouded in black mist, a sharp pain pierces my mind.
Kill him... Devour... The power...
Exhilarated, my heart races. Fervent desire reverberates in my ears.
My arm trembles as I raise it. Unable to control it, my hand is close to Sylus's heart.
MC: Yes... Use your strength just like that...
My hand quivers uncontrollably. I grit my teeth, trying to shake off the voice in my mind, but suddenly, my wrist is caught.
Sylus: Don't know where to aim?
Sylus had opened his eyes without me noticing. As he presses my wrist down, a faint, weak smirk curves his lips.
The phantom of the greatsword nearly forms again. It feels like waking from a trance, and I fling his hand away, breathless.
A smile gradually graces Sylus's face. His eyes gleam like precious gemstones in the depths of darkness.
Before the mark disappears, you still have a chance to kill me.
He tightly grips my arm and struggles to support himself in the pool of blood. Leaning against the pillar, his tail reaches out to me.
Sylus: You've got it right at my heart—so why hesitate?
Struggling to breathe, I kneel before him as I'm forced to meet his gaze. His tail moves before I can react.
My heartbeat reverberates in my ears. His aura burns like flames and slowly engulfs me.
Sylus: Do you remember? Only the Fiend's destined archnemesis can kill him.
Who exactly do you think that is?
An inexplicable raging inferno surges within me. Indignant, I laugh. I open my mouth and sink my teeth into his hand.
MC: I don't believe in this destined archnemesis nonsense!
Moonlight boils in his eyes. Sylus cackles. He lowers his head and bites my shoulder like a predator.
Pain spreads like fire. Then, Sylus extends his tongue, slowly licking the wound on my shoulder. It's as if he's claiming and soothing me.
Sylus: If you want to push me away, now's the time.
His tongue alternates between licking and biting, sending a strange, tingling sensation through my body despite the lingering pain.
He slowly licks over my throbbing wound. Sylus tightens his grip again and again. His eyes are filled with fervent excitement and a hunger that knows no end.
Sylus: However, if you don't want to...
The mark on my shoulder that belongs to him burns. Dizzy, I lift my gaze. My strength is draining away, but I see his wounds slowly healing.
MC: ...Sylus, did you already know that we would instinctively want to devour each other?
MC: Then why did you rescue me from the Abyss?
I wriggle under him, and he intertwines his fingers with mine. My hands are ensnared.
Sylus: And what about you? Why didn't you just kill me earlier?
I freeze. In the moonlit silence, Sylus raises his hand and gently touches the area around my eyes.
In the darkness, a kiss as gentle as a falling flower lands above my eyes.
My limbs tremble, weakened by the torrent of emotions coursing through me. I gaze into his eyes for what feels like an eternity.
The murky chaos that was once impossible to read is gone. At this moment, I can finally see his eyes clearly.
Sylus: "The Fiend will meet his destined archnemesis again. At this place."
Heh, I'll admit he was correct.
I told you before that I'd give you two more chances to kill me. Now, you only have one.
In that instant, the turmoil in my heart settles, and I twist my hand to clasp his.
MC: You only said a half-truth.
I told you before that I'm greedy. I live how I want, and I hate being controlled by others. If fate wants me to kill the Fiend...
A warm, soft golden light spills from my palm. I press it against the wound on Sylus's chest.
MC: Then I'll save him instead.
Sylus: Save me? Are you aware of the cost?
Once we hold hands now, our lives will be bound together, along with our deaths.
We must offer half of our soul to the other. They'll be merged... to forge an unbreakable bond.
To share your life with a fiend—it might be a punishment worse than having your soul devoured.
MC: I said I'll live, didn't I? No matter the cost.
If following our hearts is a sin, then you and I must be the last of our kind in this world.
Moonlight replaces the flickering candlelight. As our hearts beat in unison, he kisses the inside of my wrist with something akin to devotion.
Sylus: In that case... Stay by my side until the end of time.
In the moonlight, the dragon's tail wraps around me and draws me into his embrace. He spreads one wing to shield us from the cold wind and the sudden midnight rain.
That night, I fall into a deep sleep in his warm embrace.
Chapter 8 (Abyssal Blossom)
The night fog envelops me, and I feel like I'm trapped in a long, chaotic nightmare. When I wake up, I'm surrounded by a red valley filled with blooming datura. My arms feel heavy. I look down and see a huge horned creature. I hold it as it dies. I don't know why I'm here. I just vaguely remember having a dragon in a pitch-black chapel.
I try desperately to recall, but the last clear memory I have of the dragon ends on that blood- soaked night under the moon. Everything afterward feels like shredded fragments, incomplete and scattered. It's like hearing half of a chord meant to be played with both hands. Like a dance that was supposed to be for two, with only one left to dance it alone.
Maybe I'm imagining things. But after half of our souls are exchanged, I've been dreaming of him more and more—sometimes, even while awake.
When I'm alone, I always see him by my side. Those visions... I can't tell if they really happened, if they're just my own fantasies, or if they're his. Or maybe I'm seeing... the other half of his soul that's within me.
Sylus: Why are you so worried? I just want to rest. I won't die.
MC: In your current state, you might not wake up at all!
That song you played... It'd be nice if I could hear it again.
The black chapel is like an illusion steeped in darkness. I can't remember if I finished playing that piece.
But it's a requiem, a song meant for the departed.
Sometimes I think we never truly left the chapel after that night. I live there with the dragon. We keep each other company, and we live a peaceful life away from everyone. On days when we tended to our wounds, we'd go hunting in the forest or disguise ourselves to shop at the market. Little by little, the chapel became filled with traces of us. On the pew, there'd be the salve I mixed for his wounds the night before. By the stained glass, the sheath he made for my sword hangs proudly. Slowly... it feels like we've truly made a home here together.
MC: Hang this one a little higher. And be careful with this. Don't let your horns get caught on—Hey!
I feel my body become weightless. Sylus had encircled his arms around my waist and lifted me. He puts me on his shoulder.
My view rises in a flash, and I widen my eyes, looking down to meet his gaze.
Sylus: What? Didn't you say it should be hung higher?
His eyes gleam with amusement. I can't help but smile too.
We're more in sync than I thought. When I raise a hand, he moves smoothly, keeping one arm steady around my waist. He doesn't falter.
I hang up each decoration from the pile on the pew, one after another. As I reach inside my bag again, my fingers brush against the only item that's left.
MC: Here's the last one. But this one's different.
I tilt my head and raise my chin toward Sylus.
He looks up. He's slightly confused but doesn't question me. Instead, he obediently closes his eyes.
Sunlight caresses his hair and makes it look soft and fluffy. Smiling, I carefully placed the flower crown I prepared on his head.
MC: I wasn't expecting much... But it suits you well.
Sylus opens his eyes. Hesitant, he raises his hand to touch the upturned petals and gently adjusts them.
Sylus: So you stayed up late these past few nights to make this?
MC: ..You didn't sleep either?
He chuckles without responding, reaching up to pluck a tiny petal that's gotten caught in my hair.
MC: Yes, I guess. But there aren't a lot in Tarus City. I had to scour the entire woods to get this much.
Sylus: The forest barely has any flowers.
Before I can finish, Sylus wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me.
The air brushes past us. He lets out a hearty laugh as he spreads his wings.
Sylus: Since you gave me a gift, I should respond in kind.
Watch your step, O Great Sorceress. We've arrived.
MC: I thought there wouldn't be a place like this in Tarus City.
Sylus: What did you think Tarus City was like?
MC: The city is similar to its ruler. Nothing but desire and blood.
Sylus: Well, you should have developed a new impression by now.
Just because you haven't seen the other sides of it doesn't mean they don't exist.
MC: Then I need to take a closer look. What else haven't I seen?
Sylus: Have your fill? Seen enough?
Sylus: Wouldn't you say this angle is better?
MC: Too bad I can't see it all. However…
Sylus: ...You're quite daring.
Flowers suit you better than Tarus City.
Sylus: That's the first time someone said those words to me.
Only you and this flower... can touch me here.
You know, Tarus City can have flowers bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see.
On the other side of that nightmare, the dragon never took me to the valley where flowers bloomed. On the night we exchanged souls, the Sacred Judicator himself led the entire Legion of Justitia to surround the black chapel. They spared no effort trying to capture the severely injured dragon. The mark the dragon left on my shoulder served as undeniable proof of my being a "sorceress."
The news of the Fiend's death spreads throughout the land. On that day, I'm taken back to the Ivory City under the accusation of being a sorceress. They imprison me in the courtyard behind the ruined Sanctuary. Now I can only wait to be sent to the Court of Justitia. The Sanctuary is cold and bleak. The cat, which has never managed to climb over the courtyard walls, has put on ten pounds. It seems to have grown accustomed to life behind these walls, bound by invisible threads as it is. Only I know my dragon is still alive. He flies across the Abyss to find me on every moonlit night. This is a secret that only I can see.
Under the moonlit sky, Sylus sits on a weathered platform between two statues.
As the sound of crunching grass reaches his ears, he turns his head.
Sylus: You're awake. Or were you struggling to fall asleep?
Chains drag through the overgrown grass as I walk toward him, reaching out my hand. He gently pulls me up and holds me in his arms.
Sylus: I've been feeling... restless. I suspect it's because half of someone's soul is being noisy in my body again.
MC: Hmph. That's a good thing.
Sylus quickly brings his legs together and blocks my movement.
He carefully dries my dew-soaked hair with a silk handkerchief. His voice had taken on a more solemn tone, as if he's grappling with a matter of great significance.
I stay nestled in his arms. When I lower my head, I see his curled-up tail.
The dragon's tail coils around my ankle. Even the deepest wound on its tip has almost completely healed.
MC: I fell asleep while waiting for you these past few nights. Why didn't you wake me up?
As the silk handkerchief absorbs the moisture at the ends of my hair, Sylus allows me to turn my head. A gentle smile graces his lips.
Sylus: Someone was dreaming and continued to say my name—
I lift his chin and scrutinize him.
With a relaxed grace, the corners of Sylus's mouth curl up. He nuzzles my fingers.
Sylus: Did you actually dream of me?
MC: ...Have you never dreamed of me?
He doesn't speak. He just looks at me.
Sylus: Before I was sealed away, I did dream of you.
I just didn't expect I'd be willing to dry that person's hair one day.
MC: ...And you also happen to be enjoying it.
So what did I do in your dream exactly? Did I point a sword at you?
The candlelight flickers alongside something else in Sylus's gaze.
Sylus: What about you? What did I do in your dream?
The boy from my dreams appears before me again.
Under the moonlight, the horns and tail of the Fiend reflect a dim glow. I meet his gaze.
Numerous words bubble up within me, yet they become entangled on the tip of my tongue. On this dimly lit night, I hold him close and pour all my strength into hugging him.
MC: Since you've taken half of my soul...
Even if the world turns its back on you, I'll always stand by your side. You're not even allowed to think about leaving me.
My heartbeat resounds like a drum in my ears as Sylus lowers his head. He rests his chin on my shoulder.
The candlelight washes the moon's glow in a warm hue. I lay my head on his arm and entwine my fingers with his, reaching out to grasp the light together.
MC: Let's make a pinky promise.
MC: To never betray each other.
Sylus: Our souls are bound. We will never betray each other even if Doomsday arrives outside this Sanctuary. Even if the world crumbles.
MC: This promise can't be broken.
Sylus: This promise will never be broken.
Chapter 9
On that dew-drenched midsummer night, time seemed to freeze in place. Every thought of the future remained sweet and light. After giving up half of my soul, the greatsword never appeared again. Perhaps I lost the power to wield it, no longer able to slay the dragon. Does this mean the dragon's curse has been broken? All I can do is look toward Tarus City.
But as time goes on, the half of the dragon's soul within me burns more fiercely, a fervent desire like his searing my mind. With the ever-changing days and nights, I start to forget who I am. Sometimes, I'm the dragon hiding alone in the black chapel. Other times, I'm a human awaiting judgment in the Sanctuary's courtyard. When I came to my senses one time, I found myself sinking my teeth into the neck of a soldier who was guarding me.
The courtyard grows quieter by the day, perhaps because there are fewer people left in the Ivory City. The planet is in rapid decline. Before leaving, the last soldier tells me that the dragon has broken free from their restraints. He's gone completely mad and has nearly destroyed every city.
The end of the world will be upon us. Soon, this ruined planet will only have the rampaging dragon left. I haven't seen Sylus until—
The Doomsday Judgment arrives. They take me to the highest Court of Justitia on Philos.
The Court of Justitia hangs high in the sky. Under swirling red clouds, several Arbiterwings symbolizing divine retribution stay silent as they circle above.
Amidst the ranks of the Legion of Justitia, the Sacred Judicator, wearing magnificent robes, stands on the looming platform like a lifeless statue.
An ancient voice reverberates across the planet, enumerating the crimes the dragon and I have wrought upon the world, the reason why this grand execution is being held in the first place.
Sacred Judicator: First crime: worshipping evil and desire, showing no repentance, letting your heart fall to corruption...
Second crime: consorting with a Fiend and bearing its mark, tainting your very body with corruption…
Third crime: plundering wealth and embracing insatiable greed, actions steeped in corruption...
Chains bind me at the center. Beyond the rattling of chains as I struggle, I hear nothing.
Blood surges into my head, a restless fury rising in me, dragon-like and fierce.
Sacred Judicator: You are guilty on all fifteen counts, Sorceress. You shall be executed as a result. And it will be done immediately.
With a shrill cry from the Arbiterwings, a bolt of lightning strikes my soul.
Struggling to keep me upright, my knees buckle under the weight. But before I can stand again, another bolt of lightning rips through my mind and tears apart my senses.
With my face pressed against the cold floor, I recall the image of the dragon plummeting into the valley, his chest pierced by a sword.
I remember the dragon who likes that requiem.
But I've never sung it to him in full.
MC: (This is the first... and the last time.)
It's like I'm back in Tarus City at night as I sit atop the dragon's lair. He sits beside me and says, "Sing it again."
Tiny notes squeeze their way out of my chest. They gradually forge the fragments of an unfinished melody.
MC: (If you can't hear this now... Someone might never sing for you ever again...)
Soul-piercing lightning repeatedly interrupts my song. But I keep singing, unaware that all other sounds have faded away.
The entire Court of Justitia falls into complete silence. Only the sorrowful requiem echoes through its halls.
As the final notes fade into the earth, there is a long silence. And then, as if to respond in kind, a deep, resounding roar emerges from behind the crimson clouds.
Sacred Judicator: ...It's here. The dragon is here.
The true Doomsday Judgment has begun! Get her! Get the bait!
The floor rumbles as the eighteen towering statues surrounding the court pivot, revealing their spearheads.
The Legion of Justitia surge from all directions like a tide, the cold gleam of their blades pointing at the dragon.
Only upon hearing the Sacred Judicator's command do I realize my judgment was actually a trap for the dragon.
The flames tremble on the ground.
Stone feathers launched by the Arbiterwings pierce through the dragon's wings, while electrified arrows from the Legion lodge themselves in his scales.
The wings are nearly shredded, but no amount of damage can stop a dragon in a frenzy.
It's as if he feels no pain. In the end, I am the only one left standing on this vast platform of the Court of Justitia.
Through the clouds, the dragon, battered and broken, dives toward me, his eyes filled with nothing but the wild chaos of a beast.
I know he's just a dragon now. He doesn't recognize me anymore.
Closing my eyes, I recall that long, drawn-out story about a dragon that I watched in a dim tavern. A man called Sylus was next to me...
And in the end, the dragon plunged his bloodied claws into his lover's chest.
(Sylus: Yet a monster can never truly become a human. He cannot escape his fate as a dragon, nor can he love anyone for long.
At the end of the story, he killed his beloved.
Yes, it's the end of another story. Facing the wind, I spread my arms. I want to embrace my dragon one last time.
But I don't feel an embrace, nor the touch of death.
Just before the dragon's strike lands, I feel a hand seize my wrist.
He presses my hand against his chest. I feel the resonance between two souls.
In the split second before the dragon's death blow, under the pull of our resonating souls, the blood-red greatsword reappears in my grasp.
My heart lets out a silent scream, yet the sword still pierces the dragon's chest.
It looks as if I were the one who plunged it in.
If I fall, fate itself will plunge us into the Abyss as it was written. I won't be able to go back.
The dragon grips my hand tightly and uses all his strength to push the sword further into his own chest.
It's as if an unyielding life is mocking the curse and making a final stand against fate.
I hold onto the dragon's neck as we plummet through the clouds together.
With the last bit of his strength, the dragon carries me away from the Court of Justitia. We fly over the black obsidian chapel and crash into a valley filled with blooming datura.
His body lies quietly among the flowers. In his garnet-like eyes is my reflection.
MC: Look at me... You're not allowed to close your eyes!
My tears fall onto him as I lower my head. I allow him to place a kiss on my forehead.
The dark-red glow in his eyes dims. Obsidian-like crystals crawl over the dragon's scales, slowly covering his entire body.
As his body disintegrates, shards of crystal begin to peel away.
The wind blows through the valley, lifting those fragments like black petals, wrapping around me—
At that moment, it feels as if the dragon's soul is passing through my body. His life, everything about him, appears before me.
Deep within a cave, the boy who grew up with dragons tightly grips the dagger. He presses the gleaming blade against the base of his tender horn. He clenches his teeth. Blood flows down a moment later and passes his right eye that's filled with rage. It's not long before they're discovered. All the dragons are killed in the valley except for him. He's taken away as a human. But when people saw the horns growing on his head, blades once sheathed were thrust into his chest. He rolls into the rubble at the bottom of the valley. His blood boils. He doesn't know how, but he manages to stand. His legs tremble. When he comes to his senses, everyone who hurt him is already lying in a pool of blood.
Black-red mist drifts from their bodies. It travels along the dragon's horns to his tail before entering the wound in the young man's chest. His hunched back splits open. From two bloody streaks, two dragon wings struggle to release themselves. They shatter stones as they suddenly unfold. The curse he once despised has become his strength. He doesn't hesitate this time. He flies into the depths of the valley.
The dragon bone cradled in my arms dissolves into petals, drifting past me. Everywhere they touch, the bright red datura flowers turn black.
I smell a floral fragrance. Is this the scent of his soul that carries a faint, scorching bitterness?
My beloved was born into apocalyptic terror.
People cursed his existence, fabricated his sins, and celebrated his death.
Only one person ever gazed into his jewel-like eyes, embraced his burning soul, and sang to him in the night wind.
He had already etched the traces of his existence deep into my life...
Yet his retaliation against fate pierces my chest like a sword.
MC: Sylus... I curse your soul...
He says the best way to punish someone is to let them live forever.
MC: I curse your soul... to never fade away...
You'll always be tied to me. Forever.
I pinch the last black petal as if grasping the final piece of his soul—
MC: This is my curse... Only I can...
From the depths of the valley, a faint dragon's roar echoes. The petal flutters, drifting far on the wind, like a dragon returning to the clouds above.
I feel something sprouting from my head like tender branches. Sharp pain pierces my spine as a dragon's tail replaces my tailbone.
I walk into the valley that once embraced him.
It is only after my dragon has gone that I finally become one with him.