The morning sky was drowned in darkness, heavy clouds swirling above as if the heavens themselves mourned. Rain fell in slow drops, cold against the skin, soaking the forest earth that reeked of ash and blood.
Kael's eyelashes fluttered as he stirred. The sleeping spell Robert had cast on him finally dispelled the moment Robert collapsed. His vision blurred, raindrops pattering against his pale face.
The first sight that came into focus was Albert—carrying Robert's limp body across his back. Robert's complexion was unnaturally pale, his lips colorless, his breathing shallow and uneven. Kael's eyes widened in alarm. He pushed himself up too quickly, stumbling to his feet.
"Robert—!"
But his legs gave out before he could take a step.
Elric darted forward, catching him just before he collapsed into the mud. "Don't push yourself too much, Kael!" she scolded, her voice sharp but trembling with worry. "We need to get you to a safe place first!"
Kael's gaze fell on her right arm, bound tightly in bloodstained bandages. His hand trembled as he reached out and brushed her wound, his expression twisted with wordless concern.
Elric's brow twitched at his unexpected touch, but she understood. "I'm fine," she reassured, forcing a small, strained smile. "It doesn't hurt as much as it looks. I can endure it."
Kael's lips parted, but no words came. He lowered his gaze, shame creeping into his chest. He knew no healing spells, no magic that could ease their suffering. At that moment, he felt utterly useless.
Still, his determination carried him forward. Slowly, with uneven steps, Kael walked toward Robert. His eyes lingered on Robert's pale face, his uneven breaths. He clenched his fists.
"This must be his heart again," Elric murmured, glancing at Kael's stiff expression. "We need to return to the castle quickly. A healer has to see him before it's too late."
The rain grew heavier, dripping from the leaves above. Albert's men managed to bring horses forward, their hooves splashing in the mud. Albert, grim and focused, mounted first with Robert secured against him.
Kael stood motionless until one of the soldiers helped him up onto another horse. His movements were stiff, awkward. He had never ridden a horse before—not in this life nor his past. The soldier draped a thick robe over him, both to shield him from the rain and to hide his identity from watchful eyes.
Elric mounted behind him, her injured arm wrapped tightly around his waist, her other hand steadying the reins. Her grip was firm, as though she feared letting him go.
"Hold on," she whispered near his ear.
The small company began their ride through the forest, the horses snorting uneasily as thunder rolled above.
Then the earth shook.
A deep, guttural roar tore across the sky, so loud that it made the ground tremble beneath them. The horses reared, neighing in panic, their riders struggling to calm them.
Kael's head lifted sharply. His eyes locked onto the sky, then shifted toward the distant city where black smoke and flashes of fire marred the horizon. His body stiffened. He could feel it—the dragon's presence. It was calling him.
His hand trembled violently as he gripped Elric's wrist, not from fear but from the strange pull deep in his chest.
"Kael—!" Elric tried to regain his attention, her voice almost desperate. "W-we need to hurry back to the castle, regroup with the others, and—"
She never finished her sentence.
Kael suddenly slid off the horse, his bare feet sinking into the wet soil. Without hesitation, he began walking toward the direction of the city, his white robes fluttering in the wind, the rain plastering his hair to his forehead.
Everyone froze in shock.
"Kael!" Elric leapt down from the horse, rushing to his side. She caught his wrist, her voice breaking. "No… please. That way is dangerous. You're still too weak, you can't!"
Kael turned to face her. His expression was calm but unyielding, his blood-red eyes burning with quiet resolve.
Then his gaze shifted briefly toward Robert in Albert's arms.
"Take him to a healer," Kael said softly, his voice steady despite his frailty. "I need to go there."
Elric's eyes widened. His words carried no hesitation.
Before she could answer, Kael's hand moved, this time gripping hers. It was firm, steady—the first time he had taken the lead.
"Go with me," he said, his voice quiet but absolute.
Elric froze. Her chest tightened. She had always feared losing him to silence, to distance. But now, seeing the determination blazing in his gaze, she could only flinch. Her throat tightened.
The soldiers around them exchanged stunned glances. This was the first command they had ever heard directly from Kael.
Albert, still carrying Robert's fragile form, turned his head toward Kael. For a moment, conflict flashed across his face—duty pulling him both ways. But at last, he nodded, his voice strong.
"We will split," Albert declared. "I'll return to the castle with three men to bring Robert to a healer. The rest of you—follow Lord Kael and Lady Elric. Protect them with your lives."
"Yes, Captain!" the soldiers chorused, determination renewed.
Elric let out a shaky breath. Slowly, she mounted her horse once more and pulled Kael up with her. She held him tightly, as though to shield him from everything, even if she knew she couldn't.
The rain fell harder. The sound of the dragon's roar echoed across the land, guiding them like a curse.
And so, with Kael leading them for the first time, they turned their horses toward the burning city
-----------------------------------------
The deafening roar of the undead dragon split the air, shaking the earth beneath the city. Its massive, skeletal wings spread wide, blotting out what little light filtered through the storm clouds. With one violent sweep, it created a gale strong enough to hurl soldiers from their positions.
"Hold your ground!" Reinhardt bellowed.
He stabbed his spear into the cracked stone at his feet, anchoring himself against the blast. Dust and debris whirled around him as the soldiers staggered, some thrown into walls, others forced back across the rubble-strewn streets. Reinhardt's grip tightened until his knuckles turned white.
I cannot let this monster reach Kael.
The dragon's maw opened, and a torrent of black fire surged forth, bathing the city in destruction. The flames devoured everything in their path—wooden homes turned to ash in seconds, stone walls cracked and collapsed. Screams filled the air as civilians who had not fled in time cried out, some trapped beneath the wreckage.
"No… the city…" Reinhardt's jaw clenched, fury burning in his emerald eyes.
He leapt down from the wall into the chaos, dashing past panicked citizens. A child sobbed beside the charred remains of her home, her tiny hands clawing at the stones in search of her parents. Without slowing, Reinhardt swung his spear, shattering a collapsing beam before it could crush her.
"Move to the square!" he barked at the people, his voice sharp but commanding. "Evacuate while we hold the beast back!"
The dragon lifted off again, its wings beating with such force that entire roofs tore away. Several soldiers had grabbed onto its jagged legs in desperation, stabbing spears and driving blades into its bones. The creature roared in annoyance and shook violently, sending them plummeting like stones into the ruined streets.
It descended once more, crashing into the heart of the city. Buildings crumbled under its talons, and with a sickening hiss it exhaled a cloud of black gas. The miasma rolled across the streets, thick and suffocating. Those caught in it gagged and collapsed, clutching their throats as their skin turned pale.
Reinhardt raised his arm over his nose, narrowing his eyes. The beast was different from before. This dragon isn't just attacking soldiers. It's hunting innocents deliberately.
"Damn it…" he cursed under his breath.
His body tensed. He could not hesitate.
With a fierce roar of his own, Reinhardt vaulted up the ruins of a toppled building, bounding from one roof to the next. Rain slicked the tiles beneath his boots, but he pushed higher until he reached the beast's flank.
"Let's see how well you fly without this."
He slashed across one of its wings with a clean arc of his spear. Bone splintered, fragments scattering like shards of glass. For a fleeting second, triumph flickered in his eyes.
But then he saw it.
The broken pieces reformed, clicking together like a puzzle. The wing knitted itself whole, its jagged span spreading once more.
Reinhardt's fleeting smile died. His eyes widened. "What…?"
The dragon turned, its hollow sockets blazing with unnatural light. With a single swing, its tail whipped forward.
"—!"
Reinhardt barely had time to throw up a barrier before the blow connected. The impact hurled him across the street, smashing him through the outer wall of a stone building. The barrier shattered, but it dulled the worst of the strike. Even so, the collision rattled every bone in his body.
He coughed blood, his robe tearing against jagged stone as rubble cascaded over him. Pain screamed through his chest, but his grip never loosened on his weapon. Slowly, staggering, he pushed himself upright, planting his spear into the ground to steady his shaking legs.
Soldiers nearby froze, their morale faltering as they saw him stagger, bloodied and battered.
Then Reinhardt moved.
Step by step, dragging his spear beside him, he walked back into the street. His emerald eyes locked onto the dragon, burning with defiance.
"Don't lose focus!" his voice cut through the despair. "This city still stands while we draw breath. Kael protected this land before—now it is our turn!"
His words reignited their resolve. The soldiers rallied, gripping their weapons tighter, forming ranks around him.
The dragon hissed, smoke and fire curling from its maw. Reinhardt smirked faintly, blood trailing from the corner of his lips.
"You want to play hard?" He spun his spear with practiced ease, rain glinting off the weapon's edge. "Then let's play."
He hurled the spear with all his might. It cut through the air and struck the dragon squarely in the skull, embedding deep into the bone.
Reinhardt didn't hesitate. He leapt, landing on the shaft of his spear as though it were a bridge, climbing toward the monster's head. His boots dug into the weapon, his body moving with lethal precision.
And then—he saw it.
A faint glimmer within the dragon's cracked skull, nestled deep inside its bone. His eyes widened.
That's… a fragment of Kael's sword.
For a moment, shock rooted him in place. Why is it here? How did the cult…
The dragon thrashed violently, trying to swat him off. Reinhardt snapped back to focus. He slammed his heel into the spear, driving it deeper, carving a jagged crack down the beast's skull. The crack spread from its forehead to its maw, exposing raw lines of glowing miasma.
The dragon howled in pain, shaking violently. A wave of black miasma erupted from the wound, burning Reinhardt's skin and weakening his limbs. His muscles screamed, his vision blurred—but he didn't falter.
He leapt free, ripping his spear from the skull and flipping back to the ruined street below. Dust and ash exploded around him as he landed in a crouch.
The beast's roar echoed across the city, its movements staggering as it thrashed. The wound he had carved refused to knit back together like the wing had.
Reinhardt rose to his feet, blood dripping from his lip, his chest heaving. Slowly, he raised his spear once more, pointing it at the writhing beast.
A smirk touched his mouth.
"Now… I know your weakness."