In a slum in the corner of a small imperial city.
“Ugh, aah!”
“Don’t ever step foot in my shop again, you filthy half-dragon!”
“I-I’m sorry… I’ll leave…”
A small girl, wandering the streets with her cloak pulled tightly around her, was pelted with eggs—just because the shopkeeper happened to notice her.
Startled, the frail girl clutched her ragged cloak around herself and apologized as she ran away.
Believing that all of this was her fault—her own filthiness, her own wretched existence—she could do nothing but sob.
Eventually, after failing to find food, the girl returned home.
Though calling it “home” was a stretch—it was nothing more than a tattered, dilapidated tent.
The fabric was old and riddled with holes, unable to block the wind and rain, but even that was more than she deserved.
She curled up inside what she called her home.
She didn’t know how long she had been living in the slums.
She had no need to know, nor the luxury to care.
After all, she would never escape this living hell.
Thinking that, she clutched her empty stomach.
—Growl
‘P-please, be quiet…’
If someone heard the sound, they might come and beat her again.
It had already happened before.
Once, she was nearly assaulted because of her “pretty face.”
She had barely escaped by squeezing out what little magic she had left.
The girl whimpered.
But she couldn’t cry.
Even the tears that would fall to the ground were too precious to waste.
—Growl
—Growl
“…Hhic.”
Her hunger turned to pain.
Her stomach ached from starvation.
She looked down at her own arms, nothing but skin and bone.
“…So thin…”
A body that could collapse at any moment.
Wouldn’t it be easier if she just died?
She cursed the wretched body she had inherited—one tainted by both dragon and hero blood.
It was too strong, too durable, keeping her bound to this miserable existence.
But she was too afraid to take her own life.
“…I hate this. It hurts.”
“But… I don’t want to die…”
“…I just… want to be happy.”
At that moment, she remembered her uncle’s face, telling her never to give up.
Would he help her if she went to him now?
The thought crossed her mind.
But she knew—she could never escape this hell on her own.
“…I can’t go.”
She abandoned her fleeting hope.
“…He wouldn’t help me anyway.”
“He’s a dragon, after all.”
“…He wants me to suffer, that’s why he told me not to give up…”
She knew better than anyone that it wasn’t true.
But still, she continued to lie to herself.
Holding back tears, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
And then—
“…I’ve found you.”
“…Who’s there?”
A man in white stood before her, framed by the full moon and falling stars.
With the breathtaking night sky as his backdrop, he extended a hand to the girl.
“…Would you like to come with me? I’ll take you away from this hell.”
“…Really?”
“Of course!!”
—No, no!! No!!!
—No! Don’t go! Stop, Emila!!
—Ugh! M-my body won’t move!
—Emila!!!!
The girl, who had merely been watching from the sidelines, let out a scream.
But the young girl in front of her paid no heed.
She took the man’s outstretched hand.
She even said it with a smile.
For a moment, she had forgotten the lesson she learned while escaping from the Dragon Kingdom—
The fact that there could never be a paradise waiting for someone who had run away.
“Huff!!!”
With a loud rustling of the luxurious white sheets, she tumbled off the bed.
It was because Emila had suddenly bolted upright.
“Khh…ugh…”
She hurriedly ran her hands over her body, checking herself.
In doing so, some of her healing wounds reopened, and blood began to seep out again.
But Emila didn’t care.
If anything, the pain only served to remind her that she was still alive.
So she pressed down on the wound deliberately.
“…Kh…! It hurts… It hurts so much…”
“But I’m alive… I’m still… alive…”
Tears welled up in her eyes and fell, one after another.
She had once vowed not to cry when she was taken by the Grand Magician, believing even tears were a luxury.
But back then, whether she cried or not, she was beaten all the same.
At some point, she had decided—if she was going to be punished either way, she might as well cry freely.
Over the centuries, her thoughts had shifted.
“…I can’t sleep.”
Even as she said that, Emila was exhausted.
Yesterday had been utterly chaotic.
The infant who had saved her had collapsed, his magical energy still lingering beyond the door.
But she was too afraid to go out.
“…What kind of face should I make when I see him?”
With a heavy sigh, Emila pulled out the filthy bandages stored in her system window and skillfully wrapped her wounds.
There was a risk of infection, but she didn’t care.
If it killed her, all the better.
At least she wouldn’t be scared anymore.
Pain was fine.
But dying at someone else’s hands—or worse, dying by her own—terrified her.
Just imagining her own thoughts racing up until the moment of her death, or the merciless gaze of her
killer pressing down on her until her final breath…
Her heart pounded wildly.
Fear gripped her.
“…It’s okay… It’s okay, Emila…”
She soothed herself, running a hand over her chest, then walked toward the balcony.
“…A full moon?”
But tonight wasn’t supposed to be a full moon.
Something was strange.
[The Father of the Night Sky reveals his epithet.]
“…A god?”
[The Night Father greets you with a lighthearted hello.]
Emila stared silently into the empty air.
[Soon, the friend he summoned will arrive at your room. Please open the door for them.]
A new notification popped up before her eyes.
A friend of the god was arriving soon, and she was expected to let them in.
“…N-no.”
Without thinking, Emila rejected the request.
[…He urges you to meet them, as they are the one who saved your life.]
[He also informs you that this person serves both him and another god, and insists that you should at least meet them.]
But the Night Father refused to give up.
Resigned, Emila climbed back onto the bed, pulled the blankets over herself, and gave a small nod.
“…It must be that child…”
If it was him… maybe it was okay.
For some reason, she felt like it would be fine.
“…It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this…”
[The Night Father smiles proudly.]
[He wishes you good fortune!]
Buried under the blankets, Emila tried to manage her mix of fear and anticipation.
Fear still outweighed everything else.
But this was someone who had saved her—someone the god himself had sent to her.
It was worth meeting them, at least once.
And this time, there would be no other dragons around.
She could take her time and greet them properly.
“…I’ll be fine.”
“I’m looking forward to it…”
Her hands and legs trembled.
It wasn’t because she was cold.
Emila’s hands shook endlessly—whether from fear or anticipation, she couldn’t tell.
And then, a moment later—
—Knock, knock, knock.
“Apostle, entering!”
A surprisingly cute voice came from outside the door.
Emila, still tense, quickly approached the door and unlocked it before scrambling back onto the bed.
“Just a little magic…”
Using one of her titles, she borrowed a small amount of magic and tapped the door in response, signaling that they could enter.
As soon as she did, the door opened, and a small child stepped inside.
“Hello…”
“H-Hi.”
A child with dazzling golden eyes and silvery-white hair, their eyes shining like a full moon, reflecting the moonlight in an ethereal glow.
It was late at night—
A time when all good children were fast asleep.
[The King tells you to wake up for a moment.]
I had become a bad child.
The noisy alert from my system window forced me awake.
[Ah, you’re finally looking this way.]
[No, wait—that’s not it. I apologize.]
“If you’re sorry, let me go back to sleep…”
I didn’t even open my eyes as I muttered a reply and turned over in bed.
[It’s time to meet the Saint of the Moon!]
“?”
The Saint of the Moon?
“Yaaawn.”
“No one’s here.”
Deep into the night—
I stretched and yawned as I shuffled down the hallway, my footsteps making a soft chop-chop-chop sound.
[Being awake at this hour makes you kind of pitiful.]
“Hehe, then both my sister and I are pitiful.”
[Even the GM is awake.]
Wait, why?
Aren’t they supposed to be resting?
They’re still sick.
“Are you okay?”
[Still fine… for now.]
Our god is way too frail.
I thought to myself as I continued chop-chop-chop down the hallway.
“So… why did you wake me up?”
[To arrange a meeting with the Saint.]
[She’s about to completely lose her mind, so we’ve decided to intervene.]
“…?? My cousin sister is going crazy?”
Suddenly?
From my clueless perspective, I could only be confused.
[Not yet.]
There it is again—”not yet.”
Ugh.
I sped up, my steps echoing down the corridor.
[Warning: No running in the halls!]
At last, I arrived in front of my cousin’s room.
“Now?”
[Not yet.]
“Now?”
[Nope.]
“Ah, now?”
[Just wait a little longer.]
[The GM is still convincing the Saint.]
Well, nothing I can do about that.
I plopped down in front of the door and waited.
Five minutes later—
[Now!]
“Oh, now!”
—Knock, knock.
“Apostle, entering!”
[How adorable.]
I barely had time to feel flustered from the compliment before—
—Click!
I heard the sound of the lock being undone.
—Knock, knock, knock.
A soft knocking—an invitation to enter.