Alexia holds out her staff, staring down the red dragon. It exhales a blazing torrent of fire, but Liddle raises her hands, conjuring a wall of ice that hisses and steams against the heat.

  Seizing the moment, Alexia charges forward and strikes the dragon’s leg with her staff—but the creature barely flinches. It snarls and swings a massive claw. Alexia ducks, the air slicing past her hair as the talons crash into the ground.

  She glances up at the beast’s scales, searching desperately for a weak spot. The dragon roars again, filling the cavern with fire and smoke. Coughing, Alexia dives behind a fallen slab of stone with Liddle.

  “Smoke’s too thick!” Alexia grabs her Mahoishi and thrusts it forward. A small portal tears open above them, sucking the haze out of the cave in a rush of wind.

  When the air clears, the dragon’s heavy breathing echoes through the chamber. They wait—just long enough for it to lower its guard. Then Alexia sprints from cover, dodging the sweep of its tail. With a fierce cry, she drives her staff between two scales and pries one loose.

  The dragon lets out a deafening roar and slashes wildly. A claw connects, flinging Alexia hard against the wall. Her staff clatters beside her.

  Gritting her teeth, Alexia grabs it and presses a glowing hand to her wound. Healing light floods through her body as she forces herself back to her feet.

  Alexia charges at the dragon, but its massive foot slams down, pinning her to the ground. She grits her teeth, trying to push back as the creature rears its head, fire gathering in its throat.

  Before it can unleash the blast, a pair of glowing whips snap through the air—wrapping tight around the dragon’s neck and yanking its head upward. Flames roar harmlessly into the ceiling instead.

  Markus sprints to Alexia’s side, skidding to a stop.

  “Are you alright?” he asks, voice strained.

  “I should be asking you the same thing,” she shoots back, forcing a shaky smile.

  “I have to be,” Markus says, tightening his grip on the whips. “My friends need me.”

  The dragon growls, charging another breath—but Liddle raises her hands and summons a shimmering ice wall, the heat splashing against it with a hiss of steam.

  Alexia dashes forward, aiming for the gap she tore open earlier. With all her strength, she drives her staff into the exposed spot. The dragon lets out a deafening roar of pain, the sound echoing through the cavern.

  Markus hesitates, lowering his sword for a moment at the cry. His expression tightens. Then he raises the blade again, resolve burning in his eyes.

  “For the sake of this world,” Markus whispers to himself and charges, driving his sword toward the dragon’s torn scales.

  As his blade connects, Alexia suddenly staggers, her staff slipping from her hands.

  “Mana sickness… I’m going to—” Her words cut off as she collapses to the ground.

  The dragon thrashes, blasting a hole through the cave wall and bursting into the open sky. Desperate to stop it, Markus snaps his whips, the ends glowing as they wrap around the dragon’s horn.

  His heart pounds—too fast. The rush of wind, the shaking wings—it’s all too familiar. Memories crash over him: the last time he was in the air, fighting another dragon.

  Not again.

  He forces himself to breathe. “The sword,” he mutters, gripping it tight. “It’s glowing red. The leather on the handle… Alexia and Liddle—the best people I know.”

  With a shout, Markus swings upward and drives the Life-Giving Blade into the dragon’s wing. The creature roars and spirals downward, crashing through the forest, flattening trees as it hits the ground.

  Collecting himself from the crash, Markus slowly walks toward the fallen dragon. Its massive chest rises and falls in shallow, ragged breaths. When he meets its eyes, he sees not fury—but fear and despair.

  “I’m sorry, dragon,” he says softly. “If I were stronger… maybe we could’ve found a way to end this peacefully. I’m sorry you had to be born into a world where just existing could destroy this one.”

  He takes another step, climbing carefully onto its side. The dragon’s eye follows him, weary but unresisting.

  “You fought well,” Markus murmurs. “I’ll make this as painless as I can. So rest now, my friend.”

  Markus opens a portal back to the cave, then turns for one last look at the dragon’s body. The pounding in his chest has faded—replaced by a deep, quiet sadness.

  He bows his head.

  Liddle steps through the portal, then pauses when she sees him still standing there. “What are you doing?” she asks softly, walking up to her husband.

  “I’m just… honoring its death,” Markus says. “It was a living being, just like any of us.”

  Liddle leans gently against his shoulder, her horns brushing his cheek. After a moment, Markus straightens, takes a breath, and finally steps through the portal beside her.

  Markus rushes to Alexia’s side. Mana sickness hits her full force, her body trembling with fever as she lies on the ground.

  “Thank you, Alexia,” he says softly, lifting her onto his back. “You did great. You can rest now.”

  He opens a portal to the gates of Serbest Liman. On the other side, sunlight spills over the cobblestone streets as horns and drums fill the air. The people have already gathered—soldiers, merchants, children waving flags—all cheering as Markus steps through the shimmering light with Alexia on his back and Liddle at his side.

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  “The dragon’s dead!” someone shouts.

  “Our heroes have returned!” cries another.

  Markus freezes, overwhelmed. Flowers fall from balconies, banners flutter overhead, and for the first time in a long while, he feels the warmth of joy instead of battle. Liddle takes his hand, squeezing gently as the crowd chants for the wielder.

  Tears well in his eyes. He looks at the faces around him—strangers smiling, laughing, crying in relief.

  “Thank you,” Markus says, his voice breaking. “Thank you for welcoming us… to your world.”

  The crowd roars even louder. For a moment, Markus simply stands there, letting the sound wash over him—the sound of life, of a world worth saving.

  Markus waves to the cheering crowd as he makes his way toward the castle, Alexia resting on his back. The guards open the gates, bowing as he passes.

  Inside, attendants rush forward to help. Markus gently lays Alexia on a soft bed, brushing her sweat-damp hair aside and placing a hand on her forehead.

  “She’ll be alright,” he says quietly. “She just needs rest.”

  King Kral nods, his expression kind. “Of course. She’s welcome to stay here as long as she needs. But—” he smiles faintly “—I believe I promised you a flower.”

  He gestures for Markus to follow. Together they walk down a marble corridor into a sunlit chamber. Portraits of past rulers line the walls, and in the center sits a table covered with carefully tended plants. The king gently lifts a pot holding a single crimson bloom—the Seytan Flower.

  He offers it to Markus.

  “Thank you,” Markus says, accepting it with both hands. “You’ve saved a life with this flower.” He starts to bow, but King Kral stops him with a raised hand.

  “Not as many as you saved today,” the king replies warmly. “Feel free to return to Serbest Liman anytime. You’ll always have our support.”

  Markus smiles, holding the flower close to his chest. “Then I’ll make sure your kindness isn’t wasted.”

  He opens a glowing portal beside him. “I’ll be right back,” he says, glancing at the king. “Please take care of Alexia for me.”

  With that, Markus steps through. The portal closes behind him, and in an instant, he’s standing in front of Ange’s house. He pushes through the door and rushes inside, nearly colliding with Lemres.

  “One Seytan Flower,” Markus says, catching his breath as he holds it out. “Just like I promised.”

  Looking at Ange he see her body is slowly turning to sand, as cracked form all around her

  “I knew you’d pull through,” Lemres says, his voice calm but his hands already moving in a blur. He pulls a mixing bowl from the shelf and begins gathering ingredients from every corner of the cluttered room.

  Flour, milk, and eggs—those Markus recognizes. But the rest? Strange glowing petals, thin vials of shimmering dust, a pinch of powder that hisses when it hits the bowl. The air fills with the scent of ozone and sweet herbs.

  “Now all I have to do,” Lemres mutters, “is keep it from exploding.”

  He stirs clockwise, then counterclockwise, humming a tune that seems to shape the light itself. Sparks flicker above the bowl. A faint hum builds as the mixture glows brighter, like sunrise caught in liquid form.

  When it’s ready, Lemres pours the potion into a glass bottle. He kneels beside Ange’s still form, carefully tilting her head back. “Come on now,” he whispers, “don’t let all this go to waste.” He presses the bottle to her lips and lets the liquid slide down her throat.

  At first, nothing happens—then the sand along her arms begins to shift. It melts into smooth, living skin. Her color returns. The faintest breath escapes her lips.

  “She’ll recover soon,” Lemres says with quiet relief, wiping sweat from his brow. “Thank you, Markus. I’ll keep an eye on her. You, on the other hand, have somewhere else to be.”

  He points toward the glowing portal, still shimmering in the corner. “Serbest Liman awaits.”

  Markus hesitates. “It’s just a festival. I can skip it. I should stay—make sure she’s alright.”

  “Nonsense,” Lemres says, snapping his fingers. “You’ve earned at least one celebration after fighting that dragon. Go—enjoy it before the world ends again.”

  Before Markus can protest, a dozen small frogs hop out from beneath the table, croaking in unison. They surround his boots and start pushing him toward the door, their tiny feet surprisingly strong.

  “Hey—wait—Lemres!” Markus stumbles back, laughing. “How did you even know about the dragon?”

  Lemres doesn’t answer. He just turns back to his workbench as the frogs give one final, well-timed push. The door swings shut between them with a soft click.

  Markus looks down at the frog still sitting by the door. “Um… that’s weird,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “But he’s right. I should go check on Alexia.”

  He steps through the portal, closing it behind him. The world brightens instantly—the music of Serbest Liman echoing through the streets. From the hill, Markus can see the glow of lanterns, fireworks bursting like stars above the rooftops, and people dancing in celebration.

  For a moment, he just watches. The cheers, the laughter, the lights—it’s everything he fought for.

  Turning away from the festivities, Markus walks through the quiet corridors of the castle until he reaches Alexia’s room. She’s still asleep, her breathing slow and shallow, her fever breaking little by little. He sets his jacket over her and sits beside the bed.

  Outside, fireworks light up the window in flashes of red and gold. Markus walked into Alexia room, the flashing lighting up the room.

  “Heeya, how are you two doing?” Markus asks, sitting down beside Liddle on the floor.

  “Markus…” Alexia says softly, her voice still weak.

  “I was gonna grab you some soup—I can teleport and—” he starts, but stops as one of the servants enters the room carrying a tray.

  “Oh! Wielder Markus, I didn’t realize you’d returned,” the servant says quickly. “We’ll bring you some as well.”

  Markus waves a hand. “It’s fine.”

  “We can share,” Liddle says, smiling as she scoops up a spoonful and holds it toward his mouth. Markus laughs quietly and lets her feed him a bite.

  “How’s Alexia doing? Is she alright?” he asks.

  “She’s doing just fine,” the servant replies before bowing and leaving the room.

  “Hey… dummy,” Alexia says between slow spoonfuls, her voice faint but laced with a tired smile. “You… could’ve just asked me yourself.”

  “Right… still, I don’t want you to force yourself,” Markus says, taking the spoon and offering a bite to Liddle.

  Alexia smiles weakly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine—just need a little rest.” She slurps up the last of her soup and leans back against the pillows. “You can go if you want. You and Liddle could… have a date or something.”

  Markus chuckles softly but shakes his head. “You fought hard with us. Going out to celebrate while you’re stuck in bed wouldn’t be fair. Besides…” His voice drops, eyes softening. “It’s my fault you had to push yourself so hard.”

  “Markus,” Alexia says softly.

  Before he can respond, Liddle pokes his nose. “You’re doing the thing again,” she teases. “If you don’t stop, I’ll have no choice but to charge you an hour of cuddle time. And you already have a lot of cuddle debt.”

  Markus chuckles and leans in, brushing a kiss against her lips. “Does that pay off my debt?”

  Liddle grins, wrapping her arms around him. “It’s a start.”

  Markus takes a deep breath, Liddle resting against him. “I know I’ve got a lot to work on when I get back to Earth,” he says quietly. “I’ll talk to a therapist… we’ll get things sorted out.”

  “Good luck with that, Markus. You really need it,” Alexia murmurs with a faint smile, her voice fading as she drifts into sleep.

  Markus chuckles softly, then leans back and kisses Liddle again. “I love you—and thank you for always being there for me.”

  Liddle smiles, her tail curling around his leg as she returns the kiss. “Where else would I be? You see me for who I am—not just a pair of horns and a tail. I love you too.”