Riven gazed at his sister, still asleep in peace as if the chaos around them did not exist. The distant rumble and the faint tremors crawling through the ground did nothing to wake her. Melly’s face remained serene, almost pure, half-covered by the edge of his jacket shielding her from the cold.

Riven did not know if he should feel grateful… or hollow.

The pain from the earlier battle began to crawl back as the adrenaline faded. His nerves burned, every breath pierced. Yet he forced calmness onto his face, at least in front of Ashtoria.

His body was weakening. The arm that once lifted a sword could no longer raise even a leaf. His head throbbed, his thoughts blurred. He did not even bother asking why the beasts had stopped approaching them, or how terrifying Ashtoria’s true power was.

He no longer cared. The only thing that mattered was that his sister and Ashtoria were safe.

Ashtoria, who had been sitting silently by his side, had not once broken her gaze from his face. Those crimson eyes locked onto him with an intensity difficult to understand. Not anger, not fear, but a restlessness wrapped in silence.

Her breathing was calm, yet her gaze carried waves of emotion he could not grasp. When she saw Riven’s body trembling, blood staining his clothes turning black in the night air, she could no longer remain still.

Slowly, carefully, she moved closer. Her arms slipped under his shoulders, and with a strength both gentle and firm, she drew him toward her.

Riven had no strength left to resist.

Gradually, Ashtoria positioned him to lean against her. His back rested on her thighs while his head was gently pulled to her chest. Her chest was warm despite her pale skin and frozen crimson eyes. When his weight settled against her, a faint warmth spread from her chest to the tips of her fingers.

She lowered her chin, letting it rest against Riven’s hair, filthy and sticky with blood and dust. Her fingers brushed softly across his forehead, parting strands that veiled his weakening eyes.

Her embrace was not merely protection, nor just instinct. It was something deeper, more personal. As if she were trying to transfer half her soul into him so he could endure.

The moment the back of his head rested on her warm chest and her arms wrapped around him like a cloak of night, Riven felt suspended between life and dream.

The pain had not faded, in fact it deepened. But for the first time since the battle began, he felt comfort.

‘I suppose… dying in the arms of such a beautiful woman… isn’t so bad,’ he thought weakly.

A faint smile passed across his face before vanishing.

The wound on his chest worsened, his skin paled, his breathing faltered. Yet he did not show fear. Even as his eyelids sank and his vision blurred, he forced himself awake, if only to savor one more second of this peace.

But the body has its limits.

And the soul, no matter how much it resists, eventually yields.

With a ragged final breath, Riven’s head tilted slightly to the side, his face pressed against Ashtoria’s chest, and his entire body went limp in her warm embrace.

He slipped into unconsciousness in silence.

Ashtoria felt his breath weaken. She did not panic, but her heart beat faster than ever. Her arms tightened, as if to merge their bodies. Her warmth poured into Riven, and for a moment, under the night sky filled with the restless voice of the forest, they seemed to exist elsewhere.

A place that belonged only to them.

At first, Ashtoria could feel Riven’s heartbeat—strong, steady—when his body leaned against her. Each pulse was proof that he was still there, still alive, still enduring. But as time passed, his breathing thinned and his skin grew colder. The rhythm slowed.

And then… it faltered.

As if his heart fought to keep beating, yet lacked the strength. Ashtoria pressed her face close to his neck, listening, searching for that rhythm. It was still there, faint and fragile, a wavering echo that seemed ready to vanish at any moment.

No.

A feeling unknown to her clenched at her chest—confusion, anxiety.

Ashtoria, who had never known loss, now felt as if something was being taken from her.

Her hand stroked his cheek. “Don’t die…” she whispered in her heart, though her lips could not form the words. She studied his pale face, memorizing every line as if afraid they would vanish.

But before she could think further—

RAUUNNGGGHHHHHH!!!

A roar shattered the air, deafening like the sky itself had cried out in rage. Ashtoria instinctively lowered her head, covering Riven’s ears so he would not wake in pain. The sound shook the ground, scattering leaves and bending trees in terror.

And from the sky above…

A vast shadow swept past, blotting out the stars as though the night itself thickened.

Ashtoria looked up.

A colossal creature crossed the heavens. Its wings stretched wide, each beat a storm tearing the world apart. Its body was long like an ancient lizard, scales of dark crimson shimmering with firelight glowing from within. Its eyes burned golden-yellow, like twin embers of hell floating in the sky.

A dragon.

Not a hatchling. Not some small mystical beast. But a full-grown dragon, its titanic form dwarfing the trees and rendering human bodies like meaningless insects.

Ashtoria’s gaze sharpened. Her jaw tensed, and within her cold chest, hatred surged thick and heavy like magma on the verge of eruption.

“So you are the cause of this,” she thought. Her stare was sharp and unyielding. The air around her quivered faintly, enough to stir a reaction from the beast above.

The dragon halted mid-flight.

With a slow, weighty grace, its long neck turned. Its gaze lowered, fixing on the small figure radiating fiery resolve.

Its eyes met Ashtoria’s.

And at once, time seemed to slow.

The dragon did not roar, nor strike. It only stared. Yet that was enough to make the world pause. Pressure like a collapsing mountain pressed on all around. Even the earth and the homes below began to crack under the dripping weight of its magic.

Ashtoria did not look away.

She knew if she faltered for even a breath, the beast would attack. And she would not allow a single claw to touch Riven or Melly.

Her lips pressed tight.

Her left arm clutched Riven’s cooling body closer.

Her right arm rose slowly, reaching toward the dragon, as if preparing to crush it.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep