Morning came slowly to what remained of Landsol.
The pale light of dawn crept over broken stone and blackened wood, touching the ruins with a sorrowful gentleness, as if the sun itself hesitated to look upon the destruction. Smoke still rose from places where fires had burned throughout the night, twisting into the sky like the lingering souls of the dead.
Among the collapsed walls of a once-bustling street, Yukki stirred.
He opened his eyes to the scent of ash and damp earth. For a moment, he forgot where he was—until the memory of fire, screams, and wings came crashing back. He pushed himself upright, his body aching, his clothes stained with soot and blood that wasn't all his own.
Nearby, Pecorine lay sleeping against a fallen beam, her sword resting close to her hand. Even in sleep, her brow was furrowed, her grip tense, as though she feared losing the weapon if she let go.
"Pecorine…" Yukki said softly, shaking her shoulder. "It's morning."
She stirred, then sat up abruptly, eyes darting around. When she saw the ruins again, her shoulders sagged.
"…Right," she murmured. "It wasn't a nightmare."
Yukki swallowed. "What… what do we do now?"
Pecorine opened her mouth, then closed it. For the first time since he had met her, she had no answer. She stared at the destroyed street, at the collapsed homes, at the blackened ground where people had once laughed and eaten together.
"I don't know," she finally admitted. "I really don't."
They stood and began walking through what remained of the city.
The aftermath of the dragon's attack was worse in daylight.
Bodies lay where they had fallen—some burned beyond recognition, others crushed beneath stone and timber. The air carried a heavy, sickening smell of death that made Yukki's stomach churn. Here and there, survivors moved like ghosts, searching the rubble with hollow eyes, calling out names that would never be answered.
"This place…" Yukki whispered. "It's gone."
Pecorine clenched her fists. "So many people… so many smiles…"
As they turned down a familiar street, Yukki froze.
"Pecorine—wait."
She followed his gaze.
There, amid the rubble of a collapsed building, lay a sword. Its blade gleamed faintly beneath the ash, unmistakable even now.
"…My sword," Pecorine breathed.
Yukki took a step forward—then stopped dead.
"This place," he said slowly, dread creeping into his voice. "This was the weapon shop."
The realization struck them both at once.
The smell hit next.
Burned flesh.
Pecorine covered her mouth. Yukki staggered back as they spotted the body near the ruins—charred black, twisted unnaturally, barely recognizable as human.
The shopkeeper.
The man who had refused to return Pecorine's sword. The man who had demanded gold while the town starved.
Neither of them spoke.
The wind carried ash across the street, settling gently over the corpse like a final burial shroud.
Pecorine stepped forward.
She picked up her sword, her hands trembling—not with joy, but with grief. She stood before the burned remains and bowed deeply.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice shaking. "I couldn't protect you. I couldn't protect anyone."
Her grip tightened around the hilt.
"I swear it," she continued, eyes burning with resolve. "I will kill that dragon. I will avenge every single life it stole."
Yukki stepped beside her.
"I'll help you," he said without hesitation. "No matter what it costs. I'll support you with everything I have."
For a brief moment, silence returned.
Then—
"Excuse me…"
A gentle voice broke the stillness.
Both of them turned sharply.
Standing behind Yukki was a small girl with silver hair, dressed in a light cloak. Her green eyes held sorrow—and determination.
"My name is Kokkoro," she said politely. "I have been searching for you, Yukki-sama."
Yukki blinked. "Searching… for me?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I was tasked to assist you. I arrived too late… and for that, I deeply apologize."
Pecorine exchanged a glance with Yukki. "Uh… do you know her?"
"No," Yukki replied honestly. "But… somehow, it feels like I should."
Kokkoro looked at the ruins, her hands clenching.
"This dragon," she said quietly. "It must be stopped. Please allow me to fight alongside you."
Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with anger held carefully in check.
Yukki hesitated. Pecorine studied her face.
"…You lost someone too, didn't you?" Pecorine asked gently.
Kokkoro lowered her head. She did not answer—but the silence was enough.
"Our goal is the same," Yukki said finally. "Then… let's do it together."
Kokkoro's eyes widened. "…Thank you."
Yukki took a deep breath.
"Then we plan," he said. "First—we find the dragon's lair. Second—we prepare a retreat route. Third—we create a battlefield where it can't escape."
Pecorine smiled faintly. "That sounds like a leader talking."
Kokkoro watched Yukki quietly.
I failed to reach him sooner, she thought. I will not fail again. I will protect him… even if it costs my life.
They gathered supplies—what little remained. Food, potions, weapons salvaged from the ruins.
After questioning survivors, they finally received crucial information from a wounded adventurer.
"…North," the man rasped. "Deep forest… cliffs. That's where it sleeps."
They set off.
The forest was eerily quiet.
No monsters. No birds. Only the sound of their footsteps and the distant wind.
"The dragon scared everything away," Pecorine muttered.
After hours of travel, Yukki called for a halt.
They camped beneath a massive tree.
As they ate, Yukki broke the silence.
"How do you plan to kill it?"
Pecorine looked at her sword.
"…With this," she said simply. "Trust me."
Kokkoro tilted her head. "That sword… it feels powerful."
Pecorine smiled softly. "It's a gift from my family. And I believe… it will carry me through."
The fire crackled.
Above them, the sky darkened.
And somewhere in the distance—
A dragon roared.