After running for what felt like an eternity, we finally arrived at the center of the square.
Lilian panted heavily, her shoulders rising and falling with each breath.
Her face, illuminated under the moonlight, glistened with sweat, and her ragged breathing suggested she was nearing her limit.
The buildings around us were shrouded in darkness, and even the sparse lanterns that hung here and there flickered faintly.
Despite the uproar that must have echoed from the mansion, the square was eerily silent, as though dead.
It was as if time had frozen, enveloped in an unfamiliar and chilling stillness.
The stone pavement beneath our feet felt icy as if frozen solid, and even the air seemed heavy, making it hard to breathe.
“This is strange… It shouldn’t be this quiet.”
Lilian muttered, her voice tinged with unease.
“There was so much commotion back at the mansion, so why is there no one…”
Her words trailed off as she warily scanned the surroundings.
The huddled buildings without a single torch seemed to be hiding something, wrapped in a suffocating silence.
In the darkness, an ominous aura thickened with every passing moment.
It was like the calm before the storm, the kind that sends chills down your spine, warning of something terrible about to happen.
Then, a sound tore through the air.
An arrow flew towards us.
“Aaah!”
Lilian screamed.
As her body leaned forward, she unexpectedly pulled me into an embrace.
What filled my vision was her face contorted in pain.
Sweat beaded on her forehead, and suppressed breaths escaped through her trembling lips.
The arrow that pierced her leg was buried deep, its feathers still visible.
Crimson blood poured relentlessly from the torn flesh around the wound.
“Damn it…”
Her voice shook.
The silence was shattered, and shadows around the square began to move.
Skeleton-like soldiers, their rusted armor clanking, emerged from the darkness.
The stench of rotting flesh wafted on the wind, stabbing at our noses.
Amidst the tightening encirclement, a mage with a long staff appeared.
His face bore a vile grin, a mix of triumph and mockery.
“It was quite the show in the dead of night, wasn’t it?”
His cold, sticky voice echoed menacingly through the previously silent square.
“…The Demon King asked me to retrieve you, but the Dragon Heart… it’s quite tempting.
Perhaps pretending to have lost you and taking it for myself wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”
At his words, the undead began to advance step by step.
The creaking of their decayed flesh grated on my nerves.
I looked down at my glove.
“If I use it one more time…”
The Dragon Heart, as if awakened by the recoil of its power, was tearing through me from within.
Mana surged wildly, burning through my entire body like an inferno.
In the midst of the dire situation, it was almost a miracle that I could still keep my wits about me.
There was no time to hesitate.
My trembling fingers hovered over the glove.
Preparing to end it all, I took a deep breath.
But at that moment, a sharp sound pierced the air.
The wet, sloshing noise of decaying flesh being sliced reached my ears,
and out of the darkness emerged a gleaming figure clad in pristine white armor.
Knights wearing the pure white armor, the emblem of the Royal Guard, surrounded me.
Fresh blood still dripped from their blades, warm and vivid.
Bright crimson streaks stained their white armor, standing out even in the midst of this blood-soaked chaos.
Through the line of knights, someone strode forward with a jaunty step.
A resplendent crown sat crookedly atop their head.
“Hey, kiddo! Been doing well?”
Fiora, my sister, greeted me with a wide grin, her lush blonde hair loosely pinned up, her crimson lips curved in a carefree smile.
Her easygoing demeanor clashed with the ornate, jewel-adorned dress she wore.
“Remember what I said back then? That once I became queen, I’d make sure you’d live like royalty?”
She spread her arms wide, her radiant smile gleaming.
“Ta-da! The queen has arrived!”
Behind her cheerful voice, decapitated corpses littered the ground.
Her relaxed attitude made the gruesome scene feel almost surreal, like a bad joke.
The mage staggered back, his face twisting in shock and fear at the sight.
Before he could retreat far, a knight leveled a sword at his throat.
The confidence that had once marked his expression was replaced by utter terror.
Fiora watched the mage with a look of idle curiosity before turning her attention to Lilian, who lay collapsed.
“Hey, you there, knight!”
At her gesture, one of the nearby knights quickly approached.
“Take that one along. I noticed her earlier—collapsing yet still trying to protect my little sibling.
Even if her family is branded as traitors, we don’t need to treat her the same way, do we?”
She then turned toward me, her smile warm and familiar.
“Alright, kiddo. Everything’s fine now, so come back with me.”
Her voice, so familiar, brought a wave of relief over me.
But before I could refuse—knowing there were still things I had to do—the weight of exhaustion overwhelmed me.
The backlash from using the Dragon Heart surged through me, as though my body was collapsing in on itself.
My heart pounded as if it were about to burst, and blood rose to my lips.
But more than that, something else caught my eye.
The mage’s head had separated from his body.
It felt like my breath had stopped.
Bright red hair, violet eyes.
The magic was so familiar, so achingly nostalgic.
Flora stood there.
But her gaze was entirely different from before.
It was as if I were invisible to her, cold and unfeeling.
My chest ached.
It hurt more than the rampaging power of the dragon’s magic within me.
I tried to reach out, to call her name, but no sound escaped my lips.
I saw the knights raise their swords and charge at Flora.
I wanted to stop them, but I couldn’t move.
Gradually, my vision darkened, and consciousness began to slip away.
Through the red flames, I saw the castle collapsing.
It was a scene I had seen before, in a dream.
It was exactly the same dream I’d had in the past.
I walked along the blood-soaked, crimson path.
Ahead, I saw the back of the hero.
The dream wasn’t over yet.
I took a step closer to the hero, and then I saw who it was that had been pierced by the hero’s sword.
Flora lay there, her chest run through by the hero’s blade, her body cold and lifeless.
Even though I knew it was a dream, my emotions surged.
The unbearable sense of loss and an unfamiliar, overwhelming fear consumed me.
My vision blurred.
In the next moment, I found myself in an empty, pure white space.
But the image of Flora, lifeless and cold, was burned into my mind, replaying over and over again.
“Peridot.”
A low, quiet voice echoed in my ears.
I turned my head to see a woman standing there.
She had the same white hair and pale skin as me.
But she was different.
Her tightly pressed lips radiated unshakable determination, and her sharp gaze seemed to pierce through everything.
Most striking of all were the crimson dragon horns protruding from her head.
She carried an aura so vivid, so real, that it felt as though she were more alive than reality itself,
making me question if this place was truly a dream or not.
My heart raced wildly, filled with confusion, fear, and emotions I couldn’t name.
“Who… are you?”
I barely managed to open my mouth, my voice trembling.
She looked at me with a gaze that was both tender, as if she were reuniting with an old lover,
and yet unfamiliar and overwhelming.
“I am a part of you.”
Her voice resonated strangely, as though it echoed inside my head.
It felt like a whisper in my ear and, at the same time, as if it arose from the depths of my soul.
“The original owner of the Dragon Heart that sleeps within you.”
Her gaze shifted to my chest.
My mind was in chaos.
This was surely a dream, yet it felt increasingly interwoven with reality.
She reached out her hand.
Without hesitation, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, she cupped my cheek.
Her touch was cold.
But within that chill, there was an inexplicable sense of longing.
It was as though her touch stirred a memory I didn’t know I had.
“The Dragon Heart implanted in you belongs to the White Clan.”
Her voice was calm, steady.
“The White Clan often glimpses the future through dreams.
What you’ve seen will come to pass.”
I couldn’t comprehend her words—or perhaps I didn’t want to.
“The future… What do you mean?”
I forced myself to ask, my voice trembling.
But she didn’t answer.
Images of Flora impaled by the hero’s sword and the Demon King’s castle reduced to ashes flashed through my mind.
“It is a destined fate,” she declared, looking down at me with a gaze tinged with sorrow.
“Then… does that mean Flora will really die?”
My voice shook, laced with desperation.
There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, her voice soft but firm.
“It is not set in stone.”
A faint sense of relief washed over me, yet the uncertainty of her answer kept anxiety gnawing at me.
She placed a hand on my shoulder.
As her touch landed, a warm sensation surged from deep within my chest.
“Listen carefully.”
Her voice was low, but it carried unwavering resolve.
“I am you. I was once a hatchling of the White Clan, but I am already dead.
My heart was taken. Now, I am merely a part of you.”
Her words were incomprehensible.
I tried to make sense of them, but my mind only grew more tangled.
She gazed at me for a moment before speaking again, her tone resolute.
“Flora is not beyond saving.”
Her hand moved gently to my cheek.
The coolness of her fingers brushed against my skin, sending a shiver through my entire body.
It was a strange sensation, as if her presence was seeping into me.
“What should I do?” I asked, my voice trembling with desperation.
She gazed straight into my eyes and whispered softly,
“You must act on your own. Only the White Clan can alter foresight.”
As her words ended, her figure began to fade, slowly growing faint like a mirage.
Before I knew it, she disappeared right before my eyes.
Instinctively, I reached out my hand, but all I grasped was empty air.
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