——It was humiliation.
Her grinding teeth creaked, her insides churned with rage, and her soul cracked from grief and indignation.
Treated as lower humans pleased, driven to a state where she could do nothing she ought to do, forced to play a card she knew should never be played—what was she doing?
"How pathetic, I tell you."
A state that a Dragon Person should never so easily reveal—the ugly spectacle of having bared it so shamelessly.
If there had been another Dragon Person, they would have covered their faces at such a disgrace, called it a shame to all Dragon People, cursed her, and—furious at the anger directed at herself and others—would have killed Madeline before she could die of rage herself.
But that would not happen.
There were no other Dragon People. Madeline had always been alone. And so— ——And so, she had to kill the one who had killed the one she had chosen as her mate, no matter what.
"Mr. Flop, please help me. We need to carry this child inside..."
At the fringes of her fading consciousness, she heard someone's voice saying that.
Not just someone—a human voice. Since there were no other Dragon People, everything that spoke in human language was human, beings fundamentally different from her.
And from that—the closest, most personal humiliation dealt to her by beings different from herself—her head burned hot.
The crimson woman clad in a dress, and the silver woman trailed by snow.
Those two women, who had executed a terrifyingly precise coordination, seared Madeline's consciousness white.
As if guided, she raised her body and extended her arm toward the voice.
The thin back before her—she would tear it open, and then— "I don't mind being called the biggest fool there is."
A different voice—someone else's—rang out, and in the next instant, the figure before her changed.
The thin back was shoved aside, and a thin someone stood before her instead. Claws were swung at that person, and the feel of a not-shallow sharpness digging into flesh bounced back through her hand.
——— Blood scattered, and the slender figure, struck by a Dragon Person's physical strength, collapsed helplessly.
She didn't think she had "done it." Ironically, the lack of resistance was what made her realize that the slender figure she had torn into was not the target of the hatred that scorched her insides.
Even so— "Who's next...!"
Did they want to be torn apart by her claws? She bared her fangs and prepared to roar.
She would kick aside the body of the one she had just felled, surrendering to the savage instinct to seek her next prey. And then, seeing the fallen figure— "...Huh?"
A man lay collapsed, his white skin stained with blood, his long golden hair spread across the ground.
A stranger. She could barely distinguish one human face from another, but among the faces she could recognize, this man's was not among them.
What caught her eye, then, was not the man himself, but something he possessed.
The man's torn, exposed, thin chest. Covered in blood there was an ornament made from an animal's tooth, one the man had been wearing around his neck.
——No, that was not an animal's tooth.
It was, it was, it was it was it was it was.
△▼△▼△▼△ ——— Shoved in the shoulder by Flop, who had rushed over,
An unexpected blow, with no holding back. Unable to keep her footing, Rem's body toppled sideways onto the green.
But there was no need to question Flop for his sudden action.
A far more eloquent answer had spread out before Rem in a vivid crimson.
"Mr. Flop!"
Bracing her hands against the lawn, Rem's voice cracked at the sight.
Before her eyes, lying face-up in the spot where Rem had been just seconds before, was Flop—his slender body carved with a deep wound running from his shoulder to his waist.
Four blade-sharp scars tore lividly across the front of Flop's body.
And Rem immediately understood that these were the wounds sustained from shielding her.
And that the one who had inflicted them was the girl Rem had been rushing to help.
——— The girl with sky-blue hair stood frozen mid-swing, blood from Flop's torn flesh dripping from the tips of her claws.
Flop had shielded Rem from the girl who had been about to commit violence.
Rem tried to immediately sit up to check his wounds— "Get away! Mr. Flop! Let me see the wounds—gyah!"
But as Rem tried to approach Flop, the girl's thin arm blocked her. Rem was grabbed by the shoulder and shoved down, and before her, the girl took one step closer to Flop.
Rem's blood ran cold at the thought that the girl might be going in for the kill.
The girl's arm seized Flop by the neck and roughly hauled his body up.
And then— "Why are you wearing a dragon's tooth... Kariyon's tooth!?"
Her profile was filled with desperation and anguish as she screamed the question.
For an instant, Rem's thoughts ground to a halt, unable to comprehend the meaning of the question. But even in that pause, the girl kept pressing the unresponsive, closed-eyed Flop with "Why, I tell you!?"
There was no answer from Flop; his consciousness had fallen into darkness. But blood flowed ceaselessly from the wounds of his propped-up body, and there was no doubt that the embers of his life were growing weaker.
"Answer me! Answer! If you can't do that then—!"
"S-Stop! He's unconscious! He'll die!"
——!
Rem clung desperately to the girl's arm as she manhandled Flop. Annoyed by the interference, the girl turned with blazing golden eyes, but Rem stood her ground against that piercing gaze with sheer willpower.
With Flop's life on the line, how could she be cowed?
"Let me treat him right away! If I don't, Mr. Flop will..."
"What good is treatment, I tell you!? If he's going to die anyway, then before he does..."
"I'll use healing magic! I can use healing magic!"
At Rem's desperate plea, the grip of the girl's arm loosened slightly.
Simple first aid would not be enough to save the badly wounded Flop. But healing magic was another matter entirely. For the first time, the girl's golden eyes properly focused on Rem.
"...You can save him?"
"...I will. No matter what it takes...!"
"Then do it fast."
Whether she believed Rem's words or simply understood there was no other option— The girl shoved Flop's body into Rem's arms and commanded her unilaterally. But Rem had no room to bristle at her attitude.
"This is terrible..."
Checking Flop's wounds after being handed him, Rem murmured at the severity.
As if torn by beast claws, four wounds were carved into Flop's pale skin. They were agonizing gashes, carved so deeply it was as if someone had gouged through wet mud with a tree branch.
Rem pressed the cloth wrapped around Flop's head against the still-gushing blood, then activated her healing magic over the wounds—immediately after, a wave of exhaustion washed over her entire body.
——!
She had already cast healing magic on numerous people wounded in the wyvern attack.
She had limited her expenditure to those who absolutely needed healing, but treating those who needed it most required proportionally more power, and the drain was unavoidable.
On top of that came treating Flop, who was on the verge of death. The mental strain was enormous.
"Even so, giving up is not an option..."
Telling herself that, Rem focused her consciousness on Flop's wounds.
And as Rem concentrated, Priscilla's words suddenly resurfaced in her mind. They were advice given to Rem when she was reflecting on her memories, her existence, and the role she had to fulfill.
Words spoken during the days Rem had spent at Priscilla's side, after parting ways with Subaru and the others— "Look not at the wound, but at the life itself. After all, within a living body, countless things beyond blood circulate unseen. What healing should grasp lies beyond that."
"What exactly that is, I—who do not use healing arts—cannot elucidate for you. For convenience's sake, I call it 'life.' You may interpret and name it as you wish. However—"
"Remember this, Rem. You pitiful girl who has lost her memories and her place to belong. The reason you possess the power to heal others, despite having lost everything, is because it is your very essence."
"No one can escape from who they are. Be sure never to forget my words, and continue to refine yourself."
"Look at the... life."
Not at the gruesome wounds themselves, but at Flop's life as it flowed out—she had to dam it, or amplify it, and hold that life in place.
Healing was not merely about filling in torn flesh, closing wounds, and easing pain.
More essentially, healing was not a magic that cured wounds, but a magic that saved lives.
If she reached out with that awareness—to intervene in life itself— ——Then it should be possible to catch Flop's fading life and pull it back from the brink.
——— Pushing her limited remaining power to its utmost, and honed to the very limit, Rem's healing art demonstrated its true value.
She tied the threads of life that needed tying, dammed the flow of life that needed damming, and restored vigor to the fading lantern of life. She saved Flop's life.
"Mr. Flop...!"
His weakening, fragile breathing, and the pallor of his blood-drained cheeks.
When both of those gradually began to stabilize, Rem tried to draw on that solid sense of progress. In response to her call, Flop's long lashes trembled, and his blue eyes parted faintly.
Flop was still hazy with fading consciousness. But if she continued the healing art like this, she could fully pull his life back.
Just as Rem was about to let out a sigh of relief, Flop's lips trembled.
And in a faint breath, he said: "...Don't heal me completely."
"...Huh?"
Struck by words so unbelievable they made her ears question themselves, Rem let out a ragged breath.
So startled that her concentration wavered, the healing art faltered. As Rem hastily steadied her focus, Flop's eyelids dropped once more, and his consciousness sank.
With Flop now fully unconscious, Rem focused her healing magic on his wounds even as confusion consumed half her mind—she couldn't understand what he had meant.
Why had Flop said such a thing?
What did "don't heal me" possibly mean?
"Was his consciousness too hazy, and he just said something incoherent?"
That was possible. Given the amount of blood he had lost, the fact that he had regained consciousness even for an instant was a miracle.
It wouldn't be strange for him to have said something meaningless in a state of near-unconsciousness. And yet, despite their brief acquaintance, Rem's trust in Flop was high.
Flop was always someone who thought carefully and offered his opinion.
What if those words from Flop just now were also something he had wrung from the depths of himself?
Wouldn't it be too dishonest to dismiss them as mere rambling?
——— Why had he told her not to heal him?
——No, first of all, what exactly had Flop said? It wasn't "don't heal me." More precisely, it wasn't "don't heal me."
"Don't heal me... completely?"
The phrasing "completely" was strange.
He wasn't telling her to stop healing—but he was telling her not to finish healing. Yet if she didn't finish healing, Flop's life would remain in danger.
Rem's mana had its limits too. And fundamentally, she didn't understand the point. Save Flop's life properly, and then— "...Ah."
Thinking that far, Rem realized her awareness of her situation had gone askew.
She had been so desperately focused on treating Flop that she hadn't been looking around at all.
——— Behind Rem, as she healed Flop's wounds, the girl who had inflicted them stood watching. More than that, above the city that had grown rapidly cold, a flock of wyverns still circled, and fierce battles continued throughout its streets.
Not a single aspect of the situation had improved—even if Flop's wounds were healed.
And Flop's plea had brought a certain possibility to Rem's mind.
That possibility was— "...Who exactly are you?"
Without turning to face the girl behind her, Rem asked that question.
It wasn't a question asked with eye contact, but the girl surely understood she was the one Rem was addressing. Immediately, the sound of the girl's teeth grinding came— "You shouldn't have time to be worrying about other things, I tell you! If you've got time to care about me, hurry up and heal that man!"
"I want to heal him too! But..."
"But what, I tell you!?"
"But! I can't stop wondering who you are. If this goes on, I might not be able to keep the magic going."
Unable to come up with a quick excuse, Rem offered a terribly childish rebuttal. If it earned the girl's ire, it wouldn't be surprising if the claws that had torn Flop apart were turned on Rem.
But at Rem's clumsy rebuttal, the girl let out a rough breath— "...Madeline."
"...What?"
"Madeline Eschart! The Empire's greatest general, I tell you!"
In a tone that was indistinguishable between anger and anxiety, the girl—Madeline—answered Rem's question.
There was surprise at receiving an answer, but even greater was the shock of Madeline's title. She had declared herself the Empire's greatest general, and Rem knew what that position meant in this country.
And that understanding aligned with the suspicion that had taken root in Rem's mind.
Namely— "...? What are you doing, I tell you!? Why..."
——— "Why did you stop treating that man!?"
Taking a single deep breath, Rem withdrew the hands she had been holding over Flop's wounds.
Naturally, the healing magic mending Flop's wounds was interrupted, and Madeline pounced on that fact. She seized Rem by the collar and forcibly turned her toward her.
Even as she was intimidated by the girl's physical strength, Rem held Madeline's gaze with composure.
And then— "Answer me, I tell you! What are you planning!?"
"...If you want me to continue treating Mr. Flop, I have a condition."
"A condition...? What are you suddenly saying..."
"...Have the flock of wyverns attacking the city withdraw. Unless you agree to that condition, I cannot continue the treatment."
And so, she laid her negotiation bare, straight to the girl who led the flock of wyverns.
△▼△▼△▼△ Don't heal me completely.
Rem interpreted those inexplicable words of Flop's as being for this very purpose.
She didn't understand the reason, but Madeline was fixated on Flop's survival. The reason for her obsession lay with Flop, and in the current situation, only Rem could hold that in place.
Using Flop's life as a shield—negotiating to stop the attack on the city.
Rem carried out this outrage—which could very well earn her the label of inhuman—with resolute determination.
She wouldn't offer the pretty excuse that Flop himself must want this. She had simply thought that using Flop's life this way might save the imperiled fortified city.
Even if the true meaning of Flop's words was different, Rem had already begun.
"Wha—!"
At the demand thrust before her, Madeline was struck speechless, as if her ears had deceived her.
Of course she would. Rem had been equally confused when she first heard Flop's words. The same thing had now fallen upon Madeline. She could understand.
But she would show not a shred of sympathy. Rem didn't have the luxury for that.
——— Bit by bit, the anxiety of having interrupted Flop's treatment burned in Rem's chest.
In her heart, she wanted to resume the healing art right now and continue the work of saving Flop's life. The fading life at her fingertips was on the razor's edge of whether it could be brought back.
Even as they stood here, Flop's chances were closing, little by little.
"What will you do? Please decide quickly."
Hiding her anxiety from her face, Rem pressed Madeline for a decision.
She had to make Madeline believe that it was not Rem, but she herself who was being cornered. By doing so, she could preserve even a few more chances for Flop.
The effects of the earlier white light that had shaken the entire city were still significant, and Kuna and Holly, who had been guarding the mansion, were nowhere in sight. It would take time for them to return.
She couldn't look outside for a way to break through this situation. It all rested on Rem—on her own two arms.
"Madeline, time is—"
"...There's a limit to how much you can underestimate a dragon, I tell you."
"Guh—!"
Her further urging for a decision was cut off by the sensation of a palm crushing her throat.
Madeline's small hand clamped down on Rem's neck, preventing further words. —No, Madeline had never intended to allow the very will to negotiate in the first place.
Her rage-burning golden eyes cursed Rem's audacity in laying down conditions.
Bathed in a terrifyingly immense demonic aura that bore no comparison to her youthful appearance, Rem's courage shrank, and she wanted to retract her impulsive act right away.
The impulse to beg forgiveness for her arrogant behavior and prostrate herself.
But— ——— She recalled the image of Subaru, who had stood before an equally immense opponent to protect her.
Clad in a ridiculous disguise, putting on an unbearable spectacle, Subaru had nonetheless risked his life to protect Rem. —No, it wasn't just that scene.
Even from Rem's eyes, Subaru was never strong or special.
And yet, even while cowering before danger, Subaru had never once retreated.
Having watched Subaru, Rem now berated her own cowering self.
She could not look down and give up.
It was not with such naive thoughts and soft resolve that she had decided to stay.
"If you kill... me..."
"What, I tell you?"
"Even if you kill me... it's your loss..."
Choking in Madeline's grip, Rem's declaration made the girl's eyes widen.
If Madeline were to give in to rage and kill Rem, she would lose the chance to exchange words with Flop.
In the end, the content and nature of the choice before Madeline had not changed.
Destroy the city, or save Flop—a choice between two.
As the Empire's greatest general, fulfilling her assigned role was likely Madeline's mission. But Rem had found, in Madeline's attitude and words, a small but real opening.
Madeline had words she desperately wanted to exchange with Flop. Something she needed to confirm. And how important that confirmation was to Madeline.
It was because Rem saw enough value in that to take the gamble— "...What will you do?"
——— "...Choose. Will you kill, or will you let live?"
△▼△▼△▼△ ——Whitewashed consciousness gradually cleared, and the world slowly regained its color.
"...Ugh."
As consciousness returned, what her whole body felt was a crushing heaviness.
A weight as if rubble lay atop her body, pressing down everywhere, making it hard to breathe. Trying to push it away, she moved her arms— "Ngh... hnn..."
As she extended her arms from her cramped position, the weight shifted away with a loud crash.
Only then did she realize it was not her imagination—she had truly been buried under rubble, which explained why it had been so hard to breathe.
Understanding that, she recalled how she had ended up buried— "...Right. I was fighting Madeline alongside Priscilla."
The recent events came flooding back, and
What spread before her was a cityscape reduced to far too desolate a ruin. Buildings had crumbled, and the rubble from their collapse had been scattered, leaving the earth completely flat.
Like a pile of gathered leaves scattered by a gale, the sight made Emilia catch her breath.
The gently falling white snow was the aftermath of the frozen domain Emilia had created—the special attack Subaru had named "Ice Age."
But what had bleached Emilia's consciousness white was a different white thing that fell from the sky.
That was— "...With an aura similar to
The white light that poured from above the clouds to the earth was a blow triggered by Madeline's will.
Even without knowing what was coming, Emilia reacted on instinct, coordinating with Priscilla, and raised a shield of ice to meet the white light.
Even her many-layered ice shield was shattered, and in the end, Priscilla's crimson treasure sword flashed— "After that, I got buried... wait! Priscilla!?"
Remembering what had happened, Emilia began searching for Priscilla, who was nowhere in sight.
Since Emilia had been buried under rubble, it wouldn't be strange for Priscilla, who had been right beside her, to have suffered the same fate. If so, unlike the strong Emilia, Priscilla might not be able to dig herself out.
If she didn't rescue her quickly, it would be pitiful for her to be trembling in fear.
"Priscilla! Priscilla, where are you!? Answer me! I'll get you out right away..."
"...You're squeaking and squealing insufferably, half-blood."
"Priscilla!?"
Emilia flipped over nearby rubble while pressing her aching body. An answer came to her searching voice, and she rushed toward where it had come from.
There, on the other side of a mound of ruined wall remnants, she found Priscilla.
As Emilia hurried over, Priscilla, sitting among the debris, let out a small snort.
"Stubborn, aren't you. So you survived."
"Yes, thank you for worrying. And Priscilla, you're not... looking well. But I'm glad you seem okay."
"Hmph."
Before Emilia's relieved face, Priscilla sighed with somewhat more weariness than usual. Her magnificent red dress was torn in places, and her white skin bore the marks of dust and bruises.
For Priscilla, who was always immaculate, it was a painfully sorry sight.
However, when Emilia's brows drooped with concern, Priscilla looked up with displeasure and said, "Don't look down on me,"
"How laughable that you would concern yourself over me. After all, you and I are rivals competing for the throne. It should be your true wish to see me fall."
"Mm, you're saying such mean things again. I never, ever want Priscilla to be hurt. Besides—"
"What is it?"
"You really do think of me as an enemy. I'm a little surprised."
She had been certain that Priscilla didn't even have her on her radar.
Especially for Emilia, who was painfully aware that she lagged behind the other royal selection candidates—Crusch, Anastasia,
Being placed alongside such remarkable people made her feel like her efforts were being recognized.
——— "Ah, but if Priscilla is safe, we need to move right away. I don't know where Madeline went, and we have to stop the danger to the city...!"
Rejoicing over Priscilla's safety would have to wait until they had escaped the crisis engulfing this city.
Ideally, she would have wanted to make Madeline stop the wyverns' attack, but Madeline had not been found while searching for Priscilla, so there was a high chance she had fled.
If Madeline was no longer an option, then Emilia and the others would have to drive the wyverns away on their own.
For that purpose, she was thinking of rushing to where the wyverns were thickest to lend a hand— "...Wait, half-blood."
"I'd like to wait, but I can't afford to rest. We need to hurry..."
"That's not it. —The situation is changing."
Stopped from dashing off, Emilia turned around and said "Huh?" with wide eyes.
Priscilla, who had detained Emilia, jerked her chin upward from her seated position among the rubble. Following her gesture, Emilia looked up at the cloud-filled sky from which white snow was falling.
And then, she understood what Priscilla had meant.
"...The wyverns are... leaving?"
In Emilia's field of vision, the wyverns that had been ravaging the city's skies and indiscriminately attacking its people spread their wings and slowly began to withdraw from above the city.
She couldn't grasp what it meant for a moment, and then Emilia thought, "Could it be..."
"Could Madeline have listened to our request..."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"So it's not? But I think Madeline is the only one who could order the wyverns to pull back..."
Her most hopeful possibility denied by Priscilla, Emilia fell into thought.
Of course, even if the wyverns obeyed someone's orders, they wouldn't throw their lives away pointlessly. If defeat seemed imminent, they would retreat, and if, say, their pack leader lost, they might well scatter in panic.
But would Madeline's defeat count as the loss of their pack leader?
Even if Madeline had been defeated, it could also have been because of that blow from above the clouds—the one that even Emilia and Priscilla together couldn't stop.
If anything, the ones in danger had been Emilia and the others.
Had Madeline continued fighting alongside the wyverns, she could have kept the battle going.
And yet— "Then it means she found a reason to withdraw that took priority."
"A reason to withdraw? What do you mean?"
"Even I cannot see through everything. Perhaps Madeline received orders to retreat now that the 'Cloud Dragon's' existence has been revealed. Or perhaps..."
Hand over her mouth, pondering, Priscilla trailed off—and Emilia waited for what came next.
Keeping Emilia in suspense for a few seconds, Priscilla gazed at the departing wyverns and said: "...Perhaps she found something that took priority over the capital's orders."
△▼△▼△▼△ ——Priscilla's reasoning—whether it was correct or not would only be revealed after the flock of wyverns had departed.
The assault of the flock of wyverns that had pushed the fortified city to the brink of annihilation, causing numerous casualties among its residents and garrison, led by Madeline Eschart, the "Wyvern General."
On top of that came the arrival of a cruel Ice Season unbecoming of the Volachia Empire, and the terrifying white light from above the clouds that had brought destruction to the entire city—in the despair where everyone thought the city's doom was inevitable, those threats suddenly departed, and the city was shaken by an unexpected reprieve.
Even in attempting to rebuild, they first had to ascertain the depth of their wounds and whether those wounds could heal. A mind-numbing ordeal, like counting the droplets of blood that had been shed.
Before the survivors of the fortified city could begin that process, there was one fact that needed to be added.
Madeline Eschart, the "Wyvern General," who had withdrawn with her flock of wyverns.
At the same time she flew away from the fortified city with the wyverns, two people vanished.
——The merchant known as