—Madeline Eschalto is the youngest living dragonkin.
Dragonkin, by the very nature of their origins, possess a lineage fundamentally different from any other race. To properly explain their ecology, one needed to understand the relationship between dragonkin and "Dragons."
Though the number of Dragons confirmed to still exist in the modern age has drastically declined, a significant contributing factor was that in ancient times,
Reid killed Dragons at will, Dragons sought revenge and were killed in turn, and this cycle persisted for years upon years. The Dragon population, already not particularly large to begin with, dwindled at a terrifying rate, pushing the species to the brink of extinction.
The background to this near-extinction was deeply rooted in Dragon ecology.
First, Dragons do not require mating or copulation to reproduce. They are creatures capable of asexual reproduction, needing neither male nor female partners. The fundamental structure of their bodies, composed of vast quantities of mana, differs at its core from other races—if one were to force a comparison, spirits would be the closest analogue.
However, unlike spirits, which progress through stages such as minor spirits, quasispirits, and great spirits, Dragons are born as Dragons from the start, and their incomparable might places them unequivocally at the apex of all living beings.
As a result, Dragons possessed virtually no instinct to protect other individuals, nor any sense of species preservation.
Being capable of asexual reproduction, they naturally had little interest in other Dragons. Even when they rallied under the banner of species revenge to challenge Reid, it was not out of concern for the slain Dragons themselves, but rather a sense of pride that would not tolerate their species—Dragons as a whole—being slighted.
In the end, Dragons only realized the direness of their situation when they stood at the very precipice of extinction—when even the powerful Dragon that led their flock ended up in Reid's belly, and in another land, their confrontation with the "
The choice was, quite simply, whether or not to follow their pride.
Dragons who chose pride abandoned the land. They would not tolerate the hostility of enemies led by Reid and the Witch of Sloth, and chose to fly off into the distance.
Dragons who chose to abandon their pride remained on the land, refusing to sever ties with the arrogant beings who hostilely regarded Dragons, choosing instead the abnormal path of continued conflict.
From a human perspective, the interpretation of "following" or "not following" pride might seem inverted, but within the Dragons' own sensibility, this was the correct understanding.
After all, Dragons were transcendent beings beyond comparison with any other race. There was no reason to go out of their way to prove this by clashing with other races. For Dragons, battle was survival—and in a contest of survival, the victors were those who lived. Therefore, those who could accomplish this were the superior individuals.
The thinking was that those who failed to reach this understanding—who fought humans unnecessarily, who clung to the land and endangered their own lives, thereby degrading the dignity of Dragons as a whole—were the ones in the wrong.
Therefore, most Dragons departed the land, and those who remained were treated as oddities—more directly, as aberrations within the Dragon species.
The foremost among them was the "Divine Dragon"
At last, we return to the main subject: dragonkin.
Against the collective will of the Dragon species, those who remained on the land each pursued their own paths.
Some Dragons challenged Reid or the Witch of Sloth and died. Some lived like hermits in the lands they knew. And some Dragons became human. —It was this final group's choice that became the prototype of dragonkin.
Ironically, the birth of dragonkin owed much to the existence of Reid Astrea.
His overbearing arrogance—driving them to the point of forcing the choice of whether to follow their pride—was part of it, but above all, it was his strength that had left an indelible impression on the Dragons' sense of pride.
As previously stated, Dragons held the conviction that they were the apex of all living beings, and were self-aware of their status as transcendent beings. This was an intuitive understanding, like how they knew instinctively how to move their limbs, how to perceive the world, how to hear sounds—knowledge gained without needing to be taught.
Therefore, what mattered to Dragons was being transcendent. If that condition was met, there was no need to cling to the Dragon form by birth. —If they were superior, they could take the same shape as humans and it would not matter.
I mentioned earlier that Dragon physiology is close to that of spirits, and here is where that ecology comes into play.
Dragons originally possessed their majestic forms—massive bodies with wings, sharp fangs and claws, hard scales—because such forms made it easier to wield their powers as transcendent beings. The reason the Dragon form remained unchanged for so long was simply that no other form better suited the expression of Dragon power.
However, if the flow of time and the upheaval of the world demanded adaptation, Dragons would not hesitate to abandon their majestic forms and take on the same shape as humans.
This was the origin of dragonkin, and their relationship with Dragons. —Dragonkin were, in essence, the evolutionary form of the next generation of Dragons, produced through asexual reproduction.
This was why dragonkin, while possessing the same physical characteristics as humans, also wielded athletic abilities incomparable to humans and power that defied biological norms.
However, even within the long history of Dragons, such a radically different evolutionary transformation was unprecedented, and the birth of dragonkin brought with it a host of problems.
The most significant defect was the "Dragon Shell" phenomenon, in which the soul of a Dragon—the parent, so to speak, of a dragonkin—suffered severe damage, leaving them in a hollowed-out mental state. This occurred with alarming frequency.
Dragons that had become Dragon Shells were little more than walking corpses, reduced to puppets that obeyed only the will of closely bonded direct-line dragonkin, incapable of any action beyond basic self-preservation.
Nevertheless, since the Dragons' extraordinary power remained intact, they were still more than sufficient threats to ordinary humans—but this was by no means a desirable state.
The Dragons who remained on the land were already few, and those that further evolved into dragonkin were fewer still. From every conceivable perspective, the evolution into dragonkin was regarded as a catastrophic failure for the Dragon species.
Yet despite knowing of the failures of other Dragons, dragonkin continued to exist—rare in number, but persistent.
This was the struggle of foolish aberrants who, having abandoned their Dragon pride to remain on the land, stubbornly refused to acknowledge that their choice had been wrong, all while knowing they were despised by their own kind.
—Dragonkin continued to be born to this day, and Madeline Eschalto came into the world as one of them.
— ◆ — A blow beyond comprehension struck Madeline, who resided within the Dragon Shell of the "Cloud Dragon" Mesorea.
If it had been Madeline's original body—the form of a young girl—being hurled away, she could at least understand that.
Even that would have been infuriating, certainly, but comprehensible. However, the notion that the colossal body of this "Cloud Dragon" could be thrown by a mere speck of a creature barely the size of a tail tip was an impossibility beyond reason.
Absurd. Impossible. This was entirely beyond the realm of imagination.
—Humans!
Her back slammed against the defensive barrier, and what filled her inverted vision was a blood-soaked boy beckoning to her from atop shattered cobblestone.
Golden fur, sharp fangs, a savage and bestial aura radiating from the beast-like demi-human—but he was undoubtedly human. Madeline's flames of fury had no reason to dissipate.
After all, surviving a Dragon's roar head-on was no laughing matter.
—Storing her own will within the Dragon Shell of Mesorea and moving it as her own.
This was Madeline's privilege as a dragonkin, and a brute-force feat made possible only because she had lived so few years since her birth as a dragonkin, and the bond with Mesorea—her individual parent—still ran deep.
Normally, the power and destructive impulse that her small body could barely contain could be unleashed to her heart's content in this enormous form. This overwhelming power was what she could loudly proclaim to be the true Madeline.
She had never wanted to be born into that small, weak, crushable little body.
If she had been born differently—if she had not had that body—she would never have been left behind when Barroy fought his final battle.
If Madeline had been a terrifying, powerful, massive "Dragon"—if only that had been the case.
"The Aegis of the Holy Domain—Garfiel Tinsel!"
Gnashing his sharp fangs and stamping his feet hard against the fractured street, the boy—Garfiel—declared his name.
Not knowing the meaning behind the battle cry of a warrior who challenged her, the dragonkin narrowed the Cloud Dragon's gaze and swept her massive tail.
Using the momentum, she wrenched her inverted body from the wall, planted all four limbs on the ground, and locked eyes with the boy.
She could not lose. Even if the opponent was the kind of being who could be bathed in a breath she had been certain would kill him and emerge from the rubble mere seconds later, Madeline could not afford to lose.
The Dragon Shell of this Cloud Dragon was the bridal gown Madeline had desired for Barroy.
"The special one isn't you, I'll have you know!"
Shaking her long white beard, the Cloud Dragon's throat let out a piercing scream. Before a roar that could intimidate the very world of Dragons, the half-dead Garfiel did not falter.
His figure looked almost as if he had a multitude of reliable allies behind him.
"—Ah, I know."
"You—"
"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't go rushing ahead, thinking your girl's some kind of idiot, when I'm not even the one who's mistaken!!"
Slamming his fists together before his chest, the silver gauntlets clashing with a resonant clang, Garfiel roared.
Not a shred of frailty in his voice—Madeline felt anger toward this creature that should have been fragile, and something else beside. She denied that something else—the thing a Dragon must never feel toward a human.
"Then just—vanish!!"
In that instant, responding to Madeline's eruption, the Cloud Dragon's roar shook the imperial capital once more.
Up until now, Garfiel had been painstakingly positioning Madeline within the city, making sure the direction of her breath was aimed from inside to outside the city. That was, in itself, a testament to how wide-ranging and far-reaching a Dragon's breath attack could be—but here, all that effort came to nothing.
Launched from due south of the city, it shot in a straight line that ranged all the way to the Crystal Palace at the northernmost point. The destructive heat ray woven within the Dragon's body scorched the streets, reduced buildings to dust, and annihilated everything in its path as it tore northward—had Garfiel not been there.
"Gooooaaaahhh—!!"
Garfiel drove both feet into the ground as if staking them to the earth, raised both arms clad in silver gauntlets straight ahead, and caught the Cloud Dragon's breath head-on.
Even the slightest stalemate would have been a miracle, yet the boy was neither blown away nor vaporized—he held firm, shielding the imperial capital from ruin.
The mechanism behind this extraordinary clash lay in the two feet he had driven into the ground.
Even Mesorea herself—the Cloud Dragon, whose Dragon Shell was composed of vast quantities of mana—could see the torrent of mana flowing into Garfiel from the earth at an extraordinary rate.
Garfiel's abnormal regenerative powers and endurance up to this point must have come from drawing strength from the earth in this manner, but the scale and momentum of that intake had now shot through the roof.
Proof of this was the fact that Garfiel not only held his ground against the Cloud Dragon's breath but took a single step forward.
One step, then another, steadily closing the distance between himself and Madeline.
"There are plenty of folks behind me who'd slap me on the back and tell me to come at you if I ever showed a shred of doubt!!"
Even through the devastation that was burning away sight and sound alike, Madeline heard his voice.
Impossible. But Garfiel declared it nonetheless. And having declared it, he advanced further—through the Cloud Dragon's breath, through a catastrophe that could reshape the map, he pressed forward.
One step, then another, taking impossible steps—and— The sight of that advance caused Madeline's composure to shatter.
Roar, breath—no matter how one rephrased it, it was nothing other than a destructive Dragon's war cry. If her mind was thrown into disarray, if her breath faltered, the destruction would cease.
Garfiel's advance and resistance were more than sufficient to overcome the Cloud Dragon's breath.
"Garraaahhh!!"
With a single, particularly powerful stomp, Garfiel swung both arms upward.
With that, the Cloud Dragon's breath—its final gust—was sent blazing into the sky. Frozen wide open, the Dragon's eyes beheld Garfiel: his entire body wreathed in white steam, his body a vivid red from burns so severe one wanted to look away, yet rapidly healing before her very eyes.
Behind him stood the cityscape of the imperial capital that he had protected with his own slender arms—and there, sprawled on the ground amidst the cityscape, was a red-haired man.
"—"
Blocked. Completely blocked. The shock hit Madeline like a physical blow.
But the true shock was not that the Dragon's breath had been stopped—it pierced Madeline in a far more terrifying form.
The red-haired human swallowed hard, his throat loud with the sound of it, and looking at the cityscape that had survived the breath, he spoke.
"You're insane… He actually stopped a breath that could've blown away the castle all the way—"
The red-haired man's words were those of a man trembling before the reality before him—words tinged with fear even for Garfiel, who had withstood the Dragon's threat. But for Madeline, it was different.
For Madeline, those words became the blade of a dark premonition that forced her to reflect on her own actions.
The red-haired man was right. Had Garfiel not stopped it, the imperial capital would have been obliterated.
On that trajectory was the Crystal Palace—and Madeline's own body, Barroy, and
"Th-that's not… that's not it…"
Shaking her head weakly, with gestures unbecoming of a Dragon, she denied her own actions.
She had let the blood rush to her head, her thoughts bleached white, and in her desperate urgency to deal with the enemy before her, she had nearly destroyed everything.
And she had been saved by a human—small, weak, fragile, and insignificant.
"No, no, no no no no no no!"
"Huh? What the hell are you—"
"The dragon! For Barroy! All of it, all of it, all of it is for Barroy, I tell you!!"
Clutching her head and piling denial upon denial, Madeline's words left Garfiel wearing a bewildered expression. Overlapping that expression—over the very voice he least wanted to hear—Madeline screamed.
Even she didn't understand the scream she was letting out. The Cloud Dragon's wings beat furiously.
"—!"
A violent gale erupted, whipping Garfiel's hair as he ducked instinctively, and the body of the "Cloud Dragon" Mesorea soared skyward in a single burst, plunging into the heavens.
What lay above was the thick, dark cloud cover blanketing the entire imperial capital of
"The special one isn't you, I'll have you know!"
In response to the Cloud Dragon Mesorea's call, the clouds that had gathered from across the empire—the white destructive impulse that Mesorea had been unable to contain, sealed away within them.
She gathered them all at once. —Far more than Madeline could possibly handle. But she could still release them as a single, impossibly dense mass of power upon the earth.
"The special one isn't a dragon, I'll have you know!"
She could bring the clouds crashing down, wipe out Garfiel and the red-haired human, and eliminate anyone who might witness what she had done.
By doing so, Madeline could— "The only one who needs to be special is Barroy!!"
A voice like a weeping Dragon rained down from on high, while the tiny humans below looked up at the sky.
Looking up, the boy—small, but neither fragile nor weak—bared his fangs.
"You… you colossal idiot."
— ◆ — —Madeline Eschalto was born atop the peak of Palzoa Mountain, home to the "Cloud City" Mesorea.
Named after the Cloud Dragon that had long resided in the empire, the city was a destination frequented by many who aspired to become "wyvern riders," utilizing the empire's unique technology.
Whether it was the lingering power of the Dragon that had made its home there or something else entirely, enormous clouds clung to the mountainside year-round, never dissipating. It was at this extreme altitude that the city had been built.
The mountain was home to wild wyverns of volatile temperament, and the altitude of the Cloud City represented the absolute limit of human habitation—those who sought to go higher had but two paths: fall prey to a wyvern's fangs, or take home a wyvern's egg and begin the path of a "wyvern rider."
As for the very peak of the mountain, hidden beneath the thickest clouds—no one had ever laid eyes upon it.
The unexplored summit of Palzoa Mountain—that was Madeline's birthplace.
Born in a place shrouded in white clouds—suspended in the sky yet unable to catch even a glimpse of its blue—Madeline entered the world as one of the rarest beings in existence: a dragonkin. As a new generation of the transcendent Dragons, she instinctively understood her nature—yet tragedy awaited her.
It was this: "I, Mesorea, shall heed the voice of my beloved child and become the wind of the sky."
Her birth parent, the "Cloud Dragon" Mesorea, had undergone Dragon Shellification as a result of giving birth to a dragonkin, leaving her in a state where meaningful communication was nearly impossible by the time Madeline was born.
By the side of a Dragon with whom she could barely exchange words—one who could only recognize that Madeline was a close presence—the newborn Madeline spent her days in idle, unguided solitude.
Why the Cloud Dragon, who had lived for eons and must have known the cruelty and injustice of the world, had chosen such a harsh generational transition remained a mystery to Madeline even now.
The only thing she could say was this: Madeline spent long ages in a loneliness that was not quite loneliness, amid the clouds.
And the one who ended that loneliness was Barroy Temegrif—who, in all of imperial history, had accomplished what no one else ever had: reaching the cloud-buried mountain summit.
"Well now, I only meant to climb it as a test of skill, but… I never expected a charming young lady and a fearsome Dragon to be waiting for me at the top."
It wasn't dense fog but a world of thick clouds where Barroy found Madeline—a dragonkin child who did not yet even have a name—and scratched his cheek in consternation.
Beside him, the wyvern Carillon stood guard over Barroy, his partner, even as both were overwhelmed by the majesty of the Cloud Dragon and the presence of the dragonkin child.
"I, Mesorea, shall heed the voice of my beloved child and become the wind of the sky."
The Cloud Dragon, who did nothing but repeat those same words and offer clouds—clumps of mana—as food, had not rejected the sudden visitors, presumably because they harbored no hostility.
Before Barroy and Carillon, straggling wyverns had wandered into the clouds and been eliminated by the Cloud Dragon's instincts before the child ever laid eyes on them.
And so, on this day, the child saw another living being besides herself and the Cloud Dragon for the very first time.
The child said nothing. Or rather, she had no words to offer.
Shrinking back and cowering at the sudden appearance of a human and a wyvern, she could do nothing but tremble. The Cloud Dragon, of all times, said nothing, letting her consciousness sink into the murky depths.
Naturally, depending on their next actions, the Cloud Dragon would have expelled Barroy and Carillon by force, just as she had done with all the wyverns before who had peered at the summit.
But faced with the overwhelming presence of both a Dragon and a dragonkin, Barroy showed no particular anxiety. He simply removed the cloak he was wearing and said: "Here, drape this over yourself, my dear lady. A maiden ought not bare her skin so carelessly."
And with those words, he offered the child—who would later be named Madeline by Barroy's own lips—the first kindness and warmth she had ever known.
— ◆ — —Madeline and Barroy's curious meetings always took place among the clouds.
"Madeline! You've been a good girl, haven't you?"
"Barroy!"
"Oof?!"
Breaking through the thick white clouds to reveal himself, Barroy was immediately charged at by the child—Madeline.
Catching her whole body against his own, the impact and momentum sending both him and Carillon—who had just touched down—tumbling, Barroy stroked Madeline's head with his eyes spinning.
Since their first encounter, Barroy had frequently shown himself at the summit of Palzoa Mountain.
It was a peak that countless "wyvern riders" had staked their lives to reach, yet none had ever managed to. At the time, Madeline had no appreciation for how much effort Barroy put into making the journey to see her.
All she knew was that Barroy, who made the trip faithfully, bringing her contact with the outside world she knew nothing of, had become an irreplaceable presence in her life.
The name "Madeline," too, was a gift from Barroy.
When he asked her name and she replied that she had none, he had racked his brain and given her one.
"It's the name of a benefactor who was good to me back when I was just a kid no different from you. My own naming parent, so to speak… She was good to me, she was."
"Barroy… that human was precious to you…?"
"We parted ways before I could really appreciate that. But the fact that she's still in my heart at my age says something, doesn't it?"
He grinned, and there was a touch of sadness in his expression. Madeline gently pressed her cheek to his chest.
He had given her this precious name. That meant—he cherished her, she thought.
Being cherished by Barroy, and cherishing him in return, brought warmth to Madeline's heart.
She wanted more of it. More and more and more. She eagerly awaited every moment with Barroy.
She wanted to talk to Barroy more, so she diligently learned human language.
Barroy was somewhat surprised by how quickly she picked it up, but that was likely a dragonkin trait inherited from the Dragon nature.
For some reason, she could never quite lose her accent, but it never posed a problem for conversation with Barroy.
"Heh heh, my eyes weren't wrong. That looks wonderful on you, Madeline."
"R-really? Hehe…"
Standing before Barroy, who nodded with satisfaction, hand on his chin, Madeline twirled around, feeling the texture of the delicate fabric—the clothes he had gifted her.
The soft-toned garment was what Barroy called "sky-blue"—the same color as Madeline's hair, and a gift he had gone out of his way to prepare for her.
Honestly, as a dragonkin, Madeline found wearing such fabric cumbersome—it restricted her movement. But those feelings dissolved whenever she looked at Barroy.
She had received a name, language, clothing, and happiness.
Madeline counted on her fingers everything Barroy had given her, and remembered every single one. It was a Dragon's nature. Dragons never forget their treasured hoard.
Everything Barroy had given her—material and emotional—was treasure to Madeline.
"Right then, I'll come by again before the moon wanes to half, Madeline."
After spending a tender, precious time together—fragile as something that might shatter—Barroy mounted Carillon and flew off from the Cloud Dragon's nest.
With the promise of their next meeting in her heart, Madeline held back her sadness and watched him go.
—Who could call Barroy heartless for flying away, leaving Madeline behind on the mountain's peak?
It wasn't that Barroy had never tried to take Madeline outside the Cloud Dragon's nest wrapped in white clouds, where she had never once seen the sky that matched her own hair.
It was simply that he couldn't. The Cloud Dragon, existing in that hazy realm, might turn a blind eye to Barroy and Carillon entering the nest, but she would not permit Madeline to be taken outside.
"I, Mesorea, shall heed the voice of my beloved child and become the wind of the sky."
Mesorea had accepted the hostile-free Barroy and Carillon, but the moment they attempted to take Madeline outside, her instincts took over and she bared her fangs.
In a Dragon's nest, confronted by the Dragon who was its master, a human stood no chance.
Therefore, Barroy could not take Madeline out. And Madeline did not want Barroy to die. And so she couldn't ask him to take her outside.
Instead, she made a single, desperate plea.
"Barroy… will you stay here forever… with the dragon?"
"—"
That plea and the stiffening of Barroy's face—Madeline regretted it instantly.
The brief silence that followed spoke volumes about Barroy's answer. He would not stay on this mountain peak.
Barroy had left many precious things behind in the world beyond this white, cloud-shrouded place.
Just as this white world was all Madeline had, the outside world was all Barroy had. This was not where Barroy lived—not where humans belonged.
"I'm sorry, Madeline."
Understanding this, Madeline was apologized to by Barroy, who tried to stroke her head as he always did. For the first time, she rejected his palm and sent him away.
Tears streaming, throwing a tantrum, raising her voice in fury—Madeline drove Barroy and Carillon from the summit with a barrage of reproach. And then she broke down sobbing.
For three days and three nights she sobbed, consumed by regret over what she had done.
What if Barroy never showed his face again, all because she had given in to a fleeting moment's emotion? She repented from the bottom of her heart. The thought that Barroy's sad face might be the last image she ever had of him was something Madeline absolutely could not bear. She did nothing but regret.
But Madeline was young, and her thoughts and imagination were naive and shallow.
Madeline's greatest regret in life came after those three days and three nights of sobbing.
—On that day, Madeline paid little mind to the fact that the Cloud Dragon Mesorea had left her side.
When she said "left her side," she didn't mean the Cloud Dragon flew far away from this cloud-wrapped mountain. The Dragon's roar still reached her within its thunderous range. Madeline assumed it was either to hunt a wyvern that had strayed into the nest, or to deal with some death-defying challenger attempting the summit.
Either way, Mesorea would return after some time—that was certain.
More pressing than all of that was the regret that refused to fade no matter how many days passed, and the inability to control her own emotions as she continued to sob with swollen eyes.
And so, when the Cloud Dragon Mesorea first returned with many wounds on her scales—when Madeline failed to notice that it might have been caused by some challenger—she paid it no mind.
"I'm sorry, Madeline."
Madeline learned the answer to that question much later, when Barroy visited the summit again after a considerable time had passed since that terrible parting—and she saw with her own eyes the injuries that covered his body, injuries that made one want to look away.
Speechless, Madeline heard Barroy's apology—though it was not an apology for having been absent, nor for failing to fulfill her wish.
"I tried to defeat the Cloud Dragon and take you out… I really did."
Saying this with wounds that should have been fatal, while stroking his equally battered wyvern's back with a wry, self-deprecating laugh—Barroy's words broke the dam, and Madeline wept uncontrollably.
She regretted it. It was the greatest regret of Madeline's entire life as a dragon—something that could never be wiped away.
—Dragons are possessive of their treasures. That was a Dragon's nature.
And for the Cloud Dragon, who had fallen into Dragon Shell and sunk into the hazy world, that nature—unforgettable even in such a state—meant that Madeline was a treasure she could not bear to part with.
Barroy had nearly lost his life trying to take that treasure from her.
"You fool…"
"I didn't think I'd actually succeed… Honestly, even I'm disgusted with myself."
"No! That's not it! It's not Barroy who's the fool—it's the dragon, the dragon is the fool!"
Denying Barroy's self-deprecating laugh, Madeline bit down hard on her back teeth.
And from that moment to this very instant, she cursed herself for having received from Barroy and nothing else, and finally found on her own what she needed to do—without being taught.
This thick layer of white clouds, present since Madeline's birth—this was a wall she needed to tear apart with her own claws.
She had grown complacent in Barroy's kindness, letting him tear through it again and again, never even noticing that in the end he had risked his life to do so.
How shameless. Was this truly what a transcendent being—a dragonkin—should be?
"The dragon will do this herself."
"Madeline?"
"The dragon will go outside by herself. Not by being taken out, but by herself… This time, the dragon will go to Barroy on her own. And when she does…"
Clutching the hem of the garment Barroy had given her, using the words she had learned from him, the emotions he had taught her—she conveyed it all to the one who had given her everything.
To that extraordinary human, the one who had captured a transcendent dragonkin's heart, she conveyed it.
"When that happens… you'll make me your bride, right?"
"—"
To Madeline's question, the same momentary silence arose once again.
Barroy's silence this time, however, was different from the one that had tormented the foolish, ignorant Madeline into three days and three nights of sobbing. This time, she understood what lay hidden within.
That Madeline had only seen what she wanted to see.
She had been facing Barroy, but all she could think about was what she wanted him to see.
And so— "Of course, I will. If that's possible, there'd be nothing happier for either you or me, Madeline."
It was with Barroy's utmost kindness that Madeline was made fully aware that she was not his foremost priority—and it was under those conditions that they exchanged their promise.
— ◆ — There would surely be those who claimed Madeline's feelings were not genuine love.
They might analyze it as imprinting—like a hatchling that fixates on the first thing it sees after emerging from its egg.
That she simply wanted to regard as special the first being she had ever touched who was not herself or someone too close to her own kind—the first being to show her kindness, the first relationship to give her so many firsts.
They might sneer at Barroy's gentle, evasive smile in response to Madeline's courtship—a gentle lie meant to spare the feelings of a girl who spoke of marrying her future father, the way one might lie to a child.
They might pity Barroy, who had someone else he loved but could not speak of, suggesting that he had merely been considerate of Madeline, who shared a similar situation.
But all of that was nothing more than a human yardstick.
Dragonkin, or rather Dragons, possessed values and ways of thinking that differed from humans. And even if one were to deny that dragonkin and Dragons were different, Madeline's values were distinct from both.
Madeline, from the bottom of her heart, with every fiber of her being, desired Barroy Temegrif.
If that was not love or romance, then Madeline would never know what it was. That was how fervently she had burned her soul with life-or-death passion.
Swearing an oath to Barroy, who had nearly died for her sake, Madeline pierced through the white clouds.
She challenged the Cloud Dragon that stood in her way when she tried to go outside, the Cloud Dragon that tried to thwart her every wish with its Dragon power—she sank her fangs into it and ultimately subdued it.
And then, flying beneath a sky the same color as her own hair for the first time, accomplishing what she had set out to do for the first time, and finally heading of her own volition toward the one she loved—she learned.
That Barroy Temegrif had lost his life in defiance of the empire.
"What… what should I have done?"
She still didn't know the answer.
Confronted with a truth too vast to swallow, Madeline's feelings of love lost their outlet.
And so, having lost all direction for her feelings—having nearly lost even her reason for living—when Madeline had begun to contemplate becoming one of those infamous "evil dragons" that would go down in imperial history, she was found by Berstetz, who was searching for someone to fill the vacant position among the "Nine Divine Generals."
Following his scent, she had found Barroy's former residence in the imperial capital.
Berstetz, assigned to dispose of the residence of Barroy—recorded as a traitor—was not killed by Madeline when he encountered her there. It was because in Berstetz's thread-thin eyes, there was the same light of loss that Madeline recognized in herself.
Berstetz patiently listened to Madeline's halting account, and once he learned that she was a dragonkin and that she had been connected to Barroy, he made a proposal.
One was to follow the same path as Barroy—succumbing to the emotions she could no longer contain and becoming an enemy of the empire to be struck down.
The other was to accept Berstetz's recommendation, become one of the "Nine Divine Generals" as Barroy had been, walk in his footsteps, and wait for an opportunity to repay the empire.
She didn't agonize over it for long. Madeline herself wasn't entirely sure why she hadn't.
Perhaps she had simply wanted to gather as many of Barroy's footsteps as she could, even if only a few more.
"Madeline Eschalto. It's an old Volakian family name that no longer exists, but allow me to bestow it upon you. A name carries weight, you know."
"A name carries weight?"
"The fact that it no longer exists means it was a name that fought against this empire and was destroyed. I'm an old man speaking from outdated sensibilities, perhaps, but I believe it befits your noble ambition."
Following Berstetz's quiet recommendation, Madeline Eschalto was born.
From there, everything proceeded according to Berstetz's design, and Madeline stepped into the position that Barroy had earned, embarking on a journey to learn about the man she had never truly known.
It was a journey with a destination and an answer she could never find.
Even stepping out from the summit of that mountain—from the narrow world enclosed in white clouds—into the outside world that Barroy had shown her, Madeline's heart remained trapped by the man who had arrived that day alongside a wyvern.
And yet, she fulfilled her duties as one of the "Nine Divine Generals." In Barroy's stead.
And yet, she displayed the prestige expected of the empire's "General." In Barroy's stead.
And yet, she wielded her power to strike down the empire's enemies. In Barroy's stead.
Berstetz had probably recommended this position to Madeline with good intentions.
Or perhaps Berstetz, too, had an undying wish, and had coldly decided that Madeline was a piece he could use to fulfill it.
Either way, Madeline did not hold a grudge against Berstetz.
It wasn't just Berstetz—she simply didn't have the room in her heart for such things.
The time spent as one of the "Nine Divine Generals," walking in Barroy's footsteps as a "General"—it was an endless series of days filled with unfathomable terror for Madeline.
Every time she exerted herself, every time she thought of Barroy, every time she tried to fill the void he left—it felt as though Madeline herself was killing Barroy.
Each time she compensated for his absence, she was taking away his place, his traces, his footprints.
Could she have let someone else do it? She would have felt that whoever took her place was killing Barroy—and she would surely have killed that person.
She knew Barroy wouldn't want that, and so she wore herself down.
No one else could do it for her. She had to kill Barroy with her own hands. And when she had finally killed him completely, would her own heart die as well?
That, she thought, would be the best outcome.
The heart and emotions Barroy had given her—those should have died at the moment Barroy died, at the moment she could not be present at his most precious moment.
And yet— "Why are you wearing a dragon's fang… Carillon's fang!?"
During the upheaval that shook the empire, she had encountered a man wearing the fang of a dead wyvern—Barroy's wyvern.
From this man, who knew a side of Barroy that Madeline didn't, she heard tales of Barroy as a person—not as a "General." And in her heart, that tender feeling stirred once more.
And so, shaken and shaken again, pushed to her limit, it happened.
—The "Great Calamity" had indeed revived what Madeline had lost.
He praised her sky-blue hair, saying it was his favorite color. He stroked her head. He wore that soft, gentle smile that made her chest ache just looking at it—and they fulfilled the promise they never could before, embracing under a clear sky with no clouds to obstruct them.
Only beyond that mountain summit, in a place finally free of clouds, could Madeline touch Barroy again.
But still, thick clouds hung in the sky, and the world remained dark and sealed shut.
"What… what should I have done?"
Now, she simply didn't know what to do anymore.
Loved and loved and loved him, and beyond that, she understood nothing else.
She didn't want to understand anything else.
— ◆ — Dark clouds swirled, converging on the "Cloud Dragon" that had risen into the sky.
Looking up from the ground, Garfiel felt every hair on his body stand on end as boiling blood surged through his veins—a primal, instinctive impulse hammering his brain.
He had withstood the Dragon's breath, and the burns covering his entire body were already healing rapidly.
But the destructive black clouds that threatened to engulf the sky held power enough to undo not only Garfiel's recovery, but also the already-tilting cityscape he had desperately protected.
"Every last bit of that enormous cloud is made of Dragon mana…!!"
It was a hidden ace that even Mesorea hadn't realized until she stirred them up and altered their properties.
Faced with the Cloud Dragon's trump card, deployed with such audacious concealment—yet what truly made Garfiel's heart tremble was not the catastrophic force it represented, but the manner in which the Cloud Dragon wielded it.
The "Cloud Dragon" Mesorea—no, the entity within it—was something else entirely.
For a Dragon that had flown the skies of this world for hundreds upon hundreds of years, their words and actions far too lacked the gravity expected of such a being.
That sense was something entirely different from strength, and Garfiel—who knew Ryuz, who possessed a dignity earned through a long life despite his youthful appearance—could tell.
At the same time, Garfiel truly grasped the brilliance of Subaru's strategy.
"The chief told me to knock a flying 'Dragon' out of the sky…"
The fact that he had been pushed to face head-on the world's strongest creature—a Dragon—and that Subaru had trusted him with this role, was enormously significant.
The strength that gave him was enough vitality to drag him back from the incomprehensible theater he had glimpsed at the brink of death to solid reality.
But the true meaning of Garfiel being sent here was something else entirely.
Whether Subaru had intended it or not—Garfiel didn't know. It didn't matter. The "Cloud Dragon" Mesorea was simply the kind of opponent that Garfiel had to face.
Because— "You're out here shedding tears to protect your world…"
The sight of Mesorea screaming like a child, frantically mustering all her power—what it brought Garfiel was a terribly bitter sense of shame.
He had once unleashed the same fury and despair on everyone around him.
Back then, it had been his companions who stopped him by force. And because of that, Garfiel stood here now with his current resolve—his two firmly planted feet and his sturdy body.
Of course, Garfiel and Mesorea occupied different positions, different circumstances, even different species. So the solution that worked for Garfiel might not work for Mesorea.
But then again, there was no proof that it wouldn't.
To verify it, the only way was to do what Garfiel had done—get the Dragon to lower her fangs and talk.
For that— Glancing frantically around him, Garfiel clenched his fangs hard.
The crumbling barrier, the imperial capital left in a half-destroyed state by the Dragon's breath. The taller buildings had all snapped at the midline from the tilting foundation, offering none of the height Garfiel needed.
Even if he wanted to reach Mesorea, he couldn't get up to the height of those clouds.
So Garfiel gave up on doing it alone.
"Uncle!!"
"—What?"
Turning around with a bloodless face, Garfiel saw Heinkel—staring blankly up at the sky, having collapsed in a sitting position on the ground.
Looking at Garfiel with trembling, unfocused blue eyes, Garfiel grabbed both his shoulders.
"Lend me a hand! I need to get up there somehow!"
"Fly… fly? Fly? What are you—what are you talking about? There's no way that's possible! Do you have any idea how high up that is?!"
Heinkel shouted back at Garfiel, who had demanded the same, his eyes wide.
Pointing upward while trying to shake off Garfiel's grip, Heinkel gestured at the sky.
The churning clouds were changing color, as if swallowing the sky beyond the black clouds, shifting to a bluish-purple hue across the heavens.
Pointing at that apocalyptic tableau with a pale face, Heinkel said: "It's already over!"
"I'm not letting it end!"
"—!"
"Nothing's ending! Neither me nor you have been beaten!"
Refusing to release his grip, Garfiel pressed Heinkel hard.
Heinkel swallowed, his jaw tightening. Looking at the man who pointed at the sky with trembling fingers while still gripping his own sword in the other hand, Garfiel decided to trust him.
"It doesn't feel real, does it? I get it, Uncle. —It's like the end of the world."
Murmuring those words, Garfiel narrowed his eyes, gazing past the swirling vortex of destruction that loomed overhead at a distant stretch of sky.
It seemed that everywhere, truly everywhere, Subaru's "Tennozan" was underway.
To the north of the imperial capital, an iceberg pierced through the clouds and fell. To the northeast, a slash that could bisect the world—cutting through the city walls and the mountains beyond—streaked across the horizon. The eastern sky and earth were composed of nothing but red, over a hundred distinct shades, as every battlefield brought a different ending to the empire.
But Garfiel did not despair.
"That's right, chief."
Subaru had chosen how to fight this end—the end that came in many forms.
And for this particular end—for this place's ending—Subaru had chosen Garfiel Tinsel as his strongest card.
Not
"—'Sword Saint Reid drew his blade and laughed before a dragon.'"
"Don't lump me in with that crazy ancestor of mine."
"—'You cannot escape from Reinhard.'"
"Don't say that name! I— I—"
"I—"
Standing at the place where heaven and earth were about to meet their end, Heinkel covered his face with the hand that had been pointing at the sky and whispered in a frail voice.
Garfiel didn't know what words would follow. Perhaps even Heinkel himself hadn't found them yet.
If that was the case— "—Then let's pry open those unspoken words together, Uncle."
— ◆ — Can you imagine it?
The vast, endless sky—and every cloud within it transformed into a rain of swords, falling upon the world like the end of all things.
That was what was about to happen.
However, unlike what the phrase "rain of swords" might conjure, the clouds of destruction would not fall evenly across the imperial lands. Instead, they concentrated into a single point, aiming to pierce through.
—The swirling black clouds twisted into a spiral, and a colossal cone was formed, weaving the sky itself into its shape.
It was immense, distorted, and ominous—and yet, in its singular purpose of annihilation, almost beautiful.
The Cloud Dragon spread white wings across the sky, raised both hands, and shaped this final form—yet despite its colossal frame, it was released from the hands of a Dragon weeping like a child.
"—Vanish."
That single, tearful utterance—was it aimed at someone on the ground below who was about to be struck? At the ground itself, which would surely be obliterated? Or was it self-punishment directed at no one but herself?
It didn't matter which.
The result would be the same.
Against the trump card of a transcendent being like a Dragon, prepared over such vast stretches of time, there existed no countermeasure. The southern half of the imperial capital would be obliterated, a catastrophe of unprecedented scale—and the designs of the "Great Calamity" would be fulfilled.
The destruction of the imperial capital meant the empire's total defeat against the calamity, and the unstoppable army of death would consume the devastated land and turn its fury upon the remaining nations.
And so, the world would be drawn into an unbroken chain of tragedy.
That was the unalterable conclusion of a world facing its end.
The only one who could deny this conclusion—one that no one but some curiosity-obsessed "Witch" would celebrate—was the diminutive hero who threw himself into the falling end.
"—"
Drawing upon the earth with his very soul before launching himself, the hero gathered every ounce of strength he could muster and committed his entire being.
His extended foot landed upon the sword that remained sheathed, and in the brief instant of equilibrium that followed, his entire body was launched upward with tremendous force.
It was a magnificent strike.
Not aimed at a terrifyingly powerful Dragon, not slashing into the cone of annihilation, not employing any trained technique whatsoever.
He hadn't even met the enemy's gaze. And yet—it was a magnificent strike.
At the very least, that was the judgment of the hero who received it through the soles of his feet.
Whether this magnificent strike would go unrecorded, unremembered, was something he would prove with himself—entrusted with the outcome.
Across the falling end, eyes met between him who rose into the sky and the Dragon.
Seeing those eyes tremble with terror, a smile crossed his face.
An out-of-place, almost troubling smile.
Before it was quickly swallowed by a fierce, powerful, savage grin—the grin of a tiger.
"Take this fist!"
Full force, no holding back—he drove it in.
He drove it in, and then— "Just hear me out, will you? —The same way the chief and the others heard me out."
The silver arm shot upward, colliding with the cone-shaped annihilation of black clouds.
In that instant, the folded sky and the twisted black clouds became a silent explosion that swallowed the world.
"—"
The result of the collision would reveal itself in the soundless world that followed.
What kind of resolution awaited would be depicted in the flash of light that followed.
But the sky that emerged beyond the collision—where the black clouds had been wiped clean—was blue.
The same sky-blue as the hair of the "wyvern rider" who had given a name to a lonely dragonkin all by himself—the same sky-blue he had touched so many times, as though cherishing, as though adoring it.