"Elina, run. I will die soon."
The man's voice was a ghost of a sound, a dry rattle in the throat of a dying warrior. He lay broken in the girl's trembling arms, his body severed nearly to the spine by a blade that had left no room for hope. Blood spilled from the ragged ruin of his waist, flowing with the relentless, rhythmic pace of a river seeking the sea. His white hair, once a crown of silver, was now a matted, heavy weight, soaked in the dark crimson of his own blood.
Sniff-Sniff
After a long, hollow stare into the girl's tear-streaked face, his blue eyes—helpless and fading like a winter twilight—began to close.
The girl watched the light vanish, her breath hitching in a series of sharp, jagged sniffs until the reality of the silence settled into her bones. She pulled his cold body into a final, crushing embrace.
"AHHHHHHHH!"
The scream tore through the ruins, but there was no one left to hear it.
***
In less than an hour, the city of Cerma had been reduced to a skeletal graveyard of stone and ash. Roads that once bustled with life were now jagged scars across the earth; buildings that had stood for generations were nothing more than piles of shattered timber. Trees, rivers, and dreams had all been flattened by the catastrophic wake of the clash between two monsters.
Noa stood amidst the smoke, a few miles away from the fallen beast. His legs were shaking, the muscles screaming in a language of pure exhaustion. Before him, the great red dragon was also losing the battle with its own consciousness.
Thud!
THUD!
As the thick veil of dust began to settle, their remaining strength evaporated. Both collapsed to the shattered ground, though their eyes remained open, tethered to the world by sheer stubbornness.
The [Dragon King's Roar] had drained every drop of Aether from the beast's Aether Core, while Noa had pushed his human shell far past the breaking point. Even with Aether to spare, a man's heart could only beat so fast before the rhythm failed.
Kneeling in the dirt, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Noa looked at the mountain of scales.
"Hey," he said, his voice raspy but wearing a faint, jagged smile. "Do you want to join me?"
He said it bluntly, without a hint of hesitation. Noa wasn't known for sparing enemies, but this wasn't just an enemy—he was a mirror. Noa had enjoyed the fight so much that he wanted to keep the opponent close. But more than that, it was the look in the beast's eyes.
They are just like back then.
He was looking at eyes that represented his own from four years ago—eyes filled with a volatile mixture of loneliness, anger, and a madness that sought to burn the world.
The dragon moved its fallen, massive head in a desperate struggle, locking its gaze onto Noa's. It saw the black sclera and the vivid purple irises, the same color as the attack that had nearly unmade it.
After staring for a few seconds, the dragon let out a huff that might have been a smile and shook its head while closing its eyes.
It'll just be like back then.
"I reject—"
"I don't care if you're someone who got rejected everywhere or shit," Noa interrupted, folding his arms and rolling his shoulders to ease the ache. "Join us and we will give you a place to be and other supplies. I don't know the details, just ask Vionette later. Most importantly," his smile turned satisfied, "you can do whatever you want."
He raised an eyebrow, a sudden sense of déjà vu washing over him.
This feels a little familiar.
The dragon looked at him, its rejection cut short by the young man who was boasting purely about his own life experience.
Maybe… I'll try a bit more as you said, Saen.
The dragon thought of a memory from just a few months ago, a moment that still felt raw and close. It dropped its head back to the ground with a heavy sigh.
"…Ok then," the dragon rumbled, its voice a fading tremor. "I accept."
With those final words, the beast's head dropped back into the dust. It fell into a deep, unprotected unconsciousness in the middle of a ruined city where the only other living thing was a bleeding madman. Noa let himself fall back as well, though he forced his eyes to stay open.
That was easy. Maybe I'll try to act like Vionette more often, a devious grin formed on his face.
"What are you thinking about? It's something naughty, isn't it?"
The voice was like silk sliding over a blade. Noa didn't flinch; he didn't need to. It was the one sound he wanted to hear every morning—the voice of his partner.
"…Hey. You did what you wanted to?" Noa asked, his voice muffled by the ground.
"Yes. But," Vionette walked toward him and crouched near his face, her white hair drifting around her like a silken shroud. "You look pretty bad."
She reached out and poked his bruised cheek with a playful finger.
"Well, it really was a dragon," Noa said, smiling in pure satisfaction despite the pain.
Vionette sat down on the jagged stones, her legs tucked to the side in a graceful, feminine pose. Her long white hair spilled across the rubble like a silken river. She reached down, lifting Noa's head with surprising gentleness and pulling it onto her thighs.
"Good grief," she murmured, sweeping his messy black hair away from his forehead. A soft, genuine smile touched her lips. "You enjoyed it, didn't you?"
"Yea." Noa closed his eyes, leaning into the warmth of the service. For a moment, the blood and the ash didn't matter.
While the two lived in their own world, a voice interrupted the silence.
"What… what is the meaning of this?"
Count Fain stood a few yards away, flanked by his remaining knights. His eyes darted across the wasteland, his breath shallow and fast. His brows were drawn tight, and his shoulders were hunched under the weight of a helplessness that made him look a decade older.
The dragon was on the floor, and the man who defeated it was resting on a woman's thighs. Fain couldn't believe an unknown man could do such a thing, but the evidence was everywhere.
The city that was supposed to be there was gone, nothing but ruins remained. Not a single living human could be seen in the streets.
Vionette looked at him blankly. "What?"
"Th-the city… it's gone!" Fain stammered, his voice rising into a desperate shout as he turned toward her. "You said you would save the city!"
A thin, cruel smirk stretched across Vionette's face. Her eyes, those piercing and unnatural crimson orbs, gleamed with a malicious light that offered no empathy, only the sharp edge of a trap closing shut.
"When did I say that we would save the city?"
Fain's eyes widened to the size of saucers. The fear vanished, replaced by a heavy, soul-crushing understanding. He remembered the exact words of the contract she had forced him into.
'We will defeat the dragon.'
She had never promised to kill it. She had never promised to protect a single brick or life in Cerma. She had promised only the defeat of the beast, and the ruins around him were proof that she had kept her word to the letter.
Thud.
In utter helplessness, Fain fell to his knees. His knights rushed to pull him up, but he was a broken man. Even with Vionette and Noa exhausted, the Soul Contract acted like an invisible leash; he couldn't lift a finger against them without his own soul shattering.
He had been so worried about the dragon that he hadn't noticed the snake coiling around his neck, pretending to be still until it was too late.
Yet the reality was far crueler than his mind could currently grasp. He was like a man mourning a lost finger while his heart had already been pierced. He still didn't know about the first contract—the one that had stripped him of his own memories. He had already fallen deeper into the snake's lair than he dared to imagine.
***
High above the ruins, two figures stood suspended in the air, watching the aftermath with the detachment of gods.
The old man wore a heavy, midnight-black sovereign robe, the silk textured like dragon scales and trimmed in gold. Jagged black horns swept back from his brow, matching his long, obsidian hair and beard.
Beside him stood a young woman, her deep bronze skin vibrant against her silver hair. She wore a tight black crop top and shorts detailed with neon-blue circuitry that pulsed like a heartbeat.
"It's that human from before in Thalaor. He's doing our jobs this time too," she smiled, looking at Noa. "That little dragon of ours really slipped away to here."
The old man watched the ruins silently.
WROOOSH!
The two watched the collision of the ultimate attacks with a wide, excited grin, as if the destruction of a city were merely a fireworks display.
"Wow! That attack was powerful. Did he get that much stronger?" She leaned forward, her eyes locked on Noa. "Okay, it's decided. I'm going to take him as my pet."
She began to fly forward, her mind already imagining the powerful slave she would break to her will. She was happy—thrilled at the prospect of capturing both the target and a new toy.
"No… don't."
The old man grabbed her from behind, his grip iron-tight.
"Grandpa, let go of—"
She turned, but the words died in her throat. Her grandfather, an Ancient Dragon whose pride was legendary, was sweating. His eyes were wide with a terror that bordered on madness, and his mouth hung slightly open.
"G-grandpa?"
The response didn't come immediately.
"No… No…" he muttered to himself.
Memories from his long life surged back—things he never wanted to remember.
T-that power… I don't want to believe it but… it's him… it's definitely him.
He took a long, shuddering breath and turned to the young woman, gripping both of her shoulders with a strength that bruised.
"Listen carefully, Kelin," his eyes were sharper than she had ever seen them. "Whatever you do, wherever you go—if you want to live, do not provoke him. No, do not even speak to him. Do not even look him in the eyes."
"What are you talking about?" she looked back at Noa. "Why should I be afraid of a mere human?"
"Don't be fooled!" the old man tightened his grip. "Even if you were hundreds of thousands of times stronger than him, do not touch him. If you do, we are all dead."
Kelin was in disbelief. She couldn't understand how a human with such fragile powers could make her grandfather act this way, but the despair in his eyes was too real to be a lie.
"…What about Elina?"
"Forget her. We're leaving. Report that she died or that you never found her. Completely erase her case immediately. We were never here."
***
Nearly two hours had passed.
Fain and his knights wandered the ruins, hoping to find anyone still breathing.
Noa and Vionette remained exactly where they were. Vionette sat sideways on the ground, and Noa remained with his head in her lap, enjoying the rare moment of quiet.
Even though the dragon was unconscious and vulnerable, no one dared to touch it; Vionette had declared it her companion, though one of its massive horns was now missing.
"It just agreed to join like that?" Vionette asked, a bit surprised as Noa explained how he had recruited the beast.
"Yea. This happened, that happened, and now he's with us somehow." He leaned into the treatment as she brushed his hair.
"Sigh," she exhaled. "Okay. You've recovered now, right?"
Noa looked up at her, catching the red glow of her eyes.
"Yea, I'm about 75% back. But… can't I stay like this a little longer? Your legs are surprisingly soft."
"Mmm…" Vionette leaned her head down close to his and smiled. "If you want to."
Noa's burn marks and scars had faded, and his clothes were beginning to fix themselves. The garments from Nymira's shop were enchanted; if Aether was poured into them, they would remember their original form. Tears sealed and fabric returned to its intended state, as if time were being reversed on the material itself.
"Why did you take its horn?" Vionette asked.
"First," Noa raised a finger, "it's better to get it while it's unconscious and can't complain. Second," he raised another, "I want it for my sword."
They exchanged quiet words about the day's events, looking like a couple in a park rather than two killers in a graveyard.
Then, 'they' appeared.