Drayce's eyes burned with fury as he stood his ground.
"I'll stop her," he muttered, locking his gaze on the towering dragon that was once Selene.
Black fire erupted around him—Abysspyre—but when it touched her scales, it barely left a mark. The dragon roared and swung her massive tail, sending rubble flying.
"She's too strong!" Lora shouted. "We have to fall back!"
Malrek was already reaching out, focusing his mana to open a portal. The shimmering edges of a rift began to form—until the ground shook.
Blake turned.
Selene was already there.
Her jaws opened wide and a wave of searing fire erupted, blasting across the battlefield. The team scattered like leaves in a storm. Blake was flung into a crumbled wall, his leg twisting unnaturally. Pain shot through his body.
Smoke stung his eyes. He barely had time to register the incoming death before—
CRACK.
A massive boulder slammed into Selene's head, halting her advance. She roared and looked up.
High above, on a rocky outcrop, stood Malrek, arms raised. Voidthread shimmered around him as he pulled more boulders from thin air—stones from ancient ruins, battlegrounds, old missions. They rained down like divine judgment.
Drayce reignited his flames and surged forward again.
Blake groaned, trying to stand—but his leg gave out. Lora appeared beside him, pressing a glowing hand to his injury. Her Soulbrand, Divine Touch, pulsed softly.
"You're lucky I'm here," she said, forcing a smile through the chaos.
Bones realigned. Flesh knit itself back together. Blake gasped, the pain fading.
"I have to help," he said, standing.
"You're not ready," Lora warned.
But Blake's eyes were already on the dragon. He studied her. That last attack had chipped a scale—just below the neck.
"There," he pointed. "She's wounded."
Javier appeared beside him, panting.
"Oi, white hair," he grinned. "If we're gonna die, might as well go out with style."
The two charged.
Dodging flames and falling stone, they sprinted up the dragon's tail, swords in hand. Each step shook beneath them. Wind and heat roared in their ears. They reached the base of her neck and—
Strike.
Blades sank deep into the exposed wound.
The dragon shrieked, staggering back. She thrashed, bucking them off like dust. Blake hit the ground hard, rolling. Javier narrowly dodged another wave of flame.
But Blake couldn't move.
The dragon loomed over him, eyes molten with fury. She inhaled—and breathed.
Flames engulfed him.
Lora screamed.
When the fire faded, Blake's body was blackened and broken, unmoving. Lora dropped to her knees beside him, hands trembling as she worked to heal what she could.
"He's still breathing," she whispered.
The others gathered around, their faces grim. The dragon had taken flight, wounded, but alive. Mirai ran to Blake only to find him lying unconscious on the ground. she gasped and covered her mouth. A teardrop ran down her cheek.
Javier carried Blake in his arms. The mission was over.
Malrek opened a portal.
"Let's go," he said, voice low.
The group vanished into the portal, leaving behind smoke, ash, and the silence of failure.
***************************************************************
Warmth.
That was the first thing Blake noticed. Not the blistering heat of dragonfire—but the soft glow of a nearby lantern and the comforting pressure of blankets layered over his body.
He opened his eyes slowly. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—wooden, slightly cracked, with candlelight flickering in the corners. He was back at the Black Halo mansion.
Every breath hurt.
His skin was bandaged, and despite the healing he'd received, he could still feel the ghost of the flames crawling across his flesh. His limbs were stiff, his chest tight.
Then he felt it.
A presence.
He turned his head slightly and found Mirai seated beside him, curled up in a chair. She was half-asleep, knees tucked to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Her cloak draped over her shoulders like a blanket.
She looked… small.
Vulnerable.
As if she'd been sitting there for hours.
When Blake shifted, the chair creaked. Mirai blinked awake and looked at him. Relief washed across her face like a wave.
"You're awake," she whispered, her voice hoarse.
Blake tried to smirk, but it hurt too much. "Barely."
She moved closer, placing a hand gently over his, careful not to touch any injuries.
"You almost died, you idiot."
He chuckled weakly. "But I didn't."
"No thanks to you." She smiled, but her eyes shimmered with something deeper—fear… and guilt.
They sat in silence for a while. The kind of silence that said more than words ever could.
Finally, Blake spoke, his voice raspy.
"Is everyone okay?"
"Yeah. A few injuries. Malrek's arm got scorched. Javier's got bruises everywhere. Drayce is still pissed he couldn't burn a dragon to death." She gave a faint laugh. "But they're alive. We all are."
Blake looked down at his hands. Burn scars still lined parts of his skin, even with Lora's healing. Proof he wasn't invincible.
"Did we at least stop her?" he asked.
Mirai hesitated. "We hurt her. But she got away."
Blake nodded slowly, letting the weight of it all settle in. Failure. Pain. Survival.
"You scared me," she said suddenly, quieter this time.
He looked at her. "I scare everyone."
"Not like that."
Mirai met his eyes. There was something raw there—something real. No camouflage. No invisibility.
"Next time," she said, "don't try to fight a dragon without backup."
"You coming with me then?"
"Always."
They sat there a while longer. Just the two of them. In the quiet aftermath. Among the ashes and embers.
______________________________________________________________________________________
Blake stood alone in the training hall.
His fists were bloodied from striking the stone post over and over again. Sweat dripped from his brow, stinging the raw skin still healing on his arms. The bandages Lora had wrapped him in had long unraveled, now crumpled on the floor behind him.
He couldn't stop seeing it—the fire, the roar, the moment the dragon's breath was about to consume him.
He'd never felt that helpless in his life.
He slammed his fist again. Then again. Then again.
"Dammit…"
He stepped back, chest heaving. His reflection in a shard of broken glass across the room looked… weak. And he hated it.
"I'm never feeling that again," he whispered to himself. "Never."
As he turned, he saw a figure lingering at the doorway.
Lora.
She looked hesitant. Ashamed. Her robes were still soot-stained from the battle, her eyes heavy with sleeplessness.
Blake didn't wait for her to speak.
"You knew," he said, voice low and furious.
Lora's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't deny it.
"You knew what she was," he stepped forward, fists clenched, "and you didn't say a word."
"Blake—"
"We almost died, Lora. I almost died. You think that's something you can just sweep under the rug? She was turning into a dragon, and you let us walk in blind!"
Lora looked down, her voice cracking. "I didn't want it to come to that…"
"But it did." He stopped just a few feet from her now. "So tell me. Why? Who is she really?"
Silence hung thick in the air. Then, Lora finally raised her head.
"Selene… is my sister."
Blake froze.
"And the man who hired us… the one who sent us after the convoy... he's our father."
His breath caught.
"You lied to us. You lied to me."
Lora's shoulders trembled. "I didn't know it would spiral like this. My father said Selene had gone rogue… that she was dangerous, unstable. He didn't tell me she was that far gone. I thought— I thought we could capture her and bring her home. I thought maybe I could still save her."
"Save her?!" Blake's voice rose. "She tried to kill us, Lora. She nearly killed me."
"I know…" she whispered, stepping back, tears forming now. "I know. And I will never forgive myself for it."
They stood there in silence.
The air between them was filled with grief, betrayal, and something even heavier—truth.
Blake finally spoke, his voice hollow.
"I'm going to get stronger."
Lora looked up at him.
"Next time... I won't be the one nearly dying while everyone else protects me. I'll be the one protecting them."
His words cut deep. Not out of cruelty, but from the sheer resolve in them.
He turned and walked past her.
"I'm done being weak."
And with that, he left the hall, leaving Lora behind in the shadow of her secrets.
The forest was deathly quiet.
Blake walked beside Malrek, his senses sharpened. The forest floor was damp beneath their boots, and the canopy above allowed only scattered rays of moonlight to guide their way. Malrek, as usual, walked with hands in his pockets, his white mask gleaming faintly in the dark.
The forest was deathly quiet.
Blake walked beside Malrek, his senses sharpened. The forest floor was damp beneath their boots, and the canopy above allowed only scattered rays of moonlight to guide their way. Malrek, as usual, walked with hands in his pockets, his white mask gleaming faintly in the dark.
"You're sure it's this forest?" Blake asked.
Malrek nodded. "I came here once—years ago. The Blue Oxalis only blooms under specific conditions. Moisture, shadow... and residual mana."
"And if it's not here?" Blake said.
Malrek gave a shrug. "Then we look somewhere else. You said you wanted to get stronger, didn't you?"
Blake didn't respond. He just walked faster.
They climbed over fallen trees and pushed past thorny underbrush until Malrek suddenly stopped and knelt beside a mossy rock. Nestled in the shade was a faint blue glow.
"There," he said, pulling the plant gently from the soil. "Blue Oxalis."
It shimmered faintly, almost ethereal in the moonlight. Blake leaned in to inspect it. The veins of the leaf pulsed with mana—just as described in the grimoires.
"That's it," Blake said, awe in his voice.
With the plant secured in a pouch, the two made their way back to the Black Halo hideout. The others were asleep, the halls quiet as they entered the alchemy lab.
Julie was already there—barefoot, her brown hair tied back, surrounded by bubbling vials and glowing glass tubes. She looked up as they entered and smiled faintly.
"You got it?" she asked, brushing flour-like ash from her hands.
Blake pulled the Blue Oxalis from his pouch. "We did."
Julie's eyes lit up. "Perfect. We're ready."
They worked late into the night. Julie handed Blake a glass mortar and pestle while she carefully sliced strands of phoenix feather, each glowing a gentle amber. The feather's magic was volatile, but Julie's steady hands made it look like art.
Malrek watched from the side, arms crossed, amused by their chemistry. "You two going to flirt the whole time or actually make something?"
Julie rolled her eyes. "Shut up."
Blake chuckled.
They crushed, stirred, and distilled for hours, the lab filling with the scent of burning herbs and sweet ash. Finally, Julie poured the glowing liquid into three small vials. Each one shimmered with golden threads of condensed mana.
"Augmenting Elixirs," she said, holding them up. "Consume carefully. This isn't magic—it's borrowed power."
Blake took one and turned it in his fingers, watching the light refract through it. "It's beautiful."
Julie looked at him. "So is fire, until you get too close."
He met her gaze and smiled. "I don't mind getting burned."
Malrek groaned from the corner. "Gods, someone stab me."
They laughed. But the light-heartedness faded as the vials were capped and tucked away.
"Three elixirs," Malrek said. "One target."
"Selene," Blake said. "We go after her tomorrow."
Julie's smile vanished. "She'll kill you."
Blake nodded. "Only if we fail."