Kaiser felt like he was drifting in water for a long while.
He could not measure how long—there was only darkness and the slow, gentle pull of nothing. The pain from his missing rib was still there, but it felt muffled. As if someone had wrapped it in layers of silk.
And beneath the pain…he felt as ease.
A feeling he had not experienced in a very long time.
Then—warmth.
A soft caress on his face. Delicate fingers brushing his cheek, his jaw, the line of his brow. He leaned into the touch without thinking.
He opened his eyes—or dreamed that he did.
Above him, a lady stared down with a smile. Her face was soft, haloed by a gentle light. Though her features were not fully visible—blurred at the edges like a painting left out in the rain—he knew who it was.
White hair, pale face, dainty fingers.
Ayumu.
This was a dream. It had to be. And yet it felt more real than anything he had woken to in years.
He raised his own hand—slow, heavy—and caressed the lady's face back. His fingers traced the curve of her cheek, the line of her jaw, the softness of her lips.
She did not pull away.
But then—her face turned to a flash of blinding white light. And she was gone.
Kaiser winced.
The present rushed back into him like cold water. He groaned, his hand flying to his ribs. The absence of that bone throbbed like a fresh wound, though his skin was unbroken. His head pounded. His mouth was dry.
He forced his eyes open.
The first thing he saw was fading light—a golden-yellow shimmer, weak and flickering, like a candle drowning in its own wax. Above it, rubble and stones pressed down in a chaotic heap.
The barrier was holding, but barely.
He sat up quickly. His vision swam. He pressed a hand to the ground to steady himself and saw, at his feet, Levain. Unconscious. Face pale. He also saw Rhea and Osmond, unconscious within his sight.
Then he heard a weak and strained voice.
"Lord Kaiser… you're awake."
He turned and his heart stopped.
Ayumu sat behind him, her legs stretched out before her, her back against a jagged rock. Her hands were raised, her palms facing outward toward the barrier but was trembling.
Her white hair was tangled, matted with dust and sweat. A thin trickle of blood ran from a gash on her forehead, tracing a red line down the side of her face.
She was holding the barrier together.
Alone. With whatever strength she had left.
"Ayumu!" Kaiser scrambled to her side, dropping to his knees beside her. He could see her now—truly see her. The way her arms shook. The way her breath came in ragged, shallow gasps. The way her eyes fluttered, struggling to stay open.
"How long?" he demanded, his voice rough. "How long have you been maintaining this barrier?"
Ayumu's lips curved—a slight smile, despite everything.
Despite the blood. Despite the tremors. Despite the weight of a mountain pressing down on her magic.
"I-I am not sure," she whispered. "It's been a while. The others… used their energy to move the gold with the... transportation orbs." Her voice cracked. "I am left…"
Kaiser's hands curled into fists.
What was he doing?
Lying there, unconscious, while she—while Ayumu—saved their lives again. She burned through the last of her strength to keep them from being crushed.
He felt so stupid. So pathetic.
A warrior who could not fight. A leader who could not lead. A man who could not even protect the one person who had never stopped protecting him.
Ayumu looked down at her hands—at the fading glow of her barrier.
"I… I don't think I can hold out much longer, Lord Kaiser." Her voice was barely a breath. "The stones are so heavy."
Her arms trembled harder. The barrier flickered.
Kaiser straightened his back. He forced the pain down. Right now, Ayumu needed him.
"I will get us out of here," he said. His voice was steady now. Certain. "Give me a moment, Ayumu. I'm sorry to burden you like this."
Ayumu smiled, weakly.
Kaiser moved quickly—dragging the unconscious bodies closer. Drobar first, still limp and heavy. Then Levain. Then Fifi, small and light as a child. He pulled Rhea beside Ayumu, and Osmond last of all. He arranged them in a tight cluster.
Then he looked up.
Through the flickering barrier, he could see the stones above them—massive, jagged, piled high. The cave had collapsed completely. There was no tunnel left. No path. No door.
Only rocks.
He knelt on the floor and wrapped his arms around Ayumu—one hand bracing her back, the other cradling her head against his shoulder. She was so small against him. So fragile. He could feel her heart pounding, her breath shallow, her body shaking with exhaustion.
"Ayumu," he said quietly. "On the count of three, you can release the barrier."
Kaiser summoned Azhdar.
Black smoke seeped from his back. The wyvern's form took shape within the cramped barrier, scales of shadow pressing against the golden light, wings folding to fit, tail curling around their huddled group.
Ayumu, still in Kaiser's arms, gave a weak nod.
"One… two…"
Azhdar roared—a sound that shook the remaining stones, that vibrated through the ground, that filled the tight space with ancient fury. The wyvern reached its full form, straining against the barrier's edges, muscles coiled, wings tensed.
"THREE!"
Ayumu released her barrier.
The golden light vanished.
And the mountain fell.
But before the stones could crush them—Azhdar moved. The wyvern threw its massive body upward, scales meeting stone, wings pushing against rubble, claws tearing through rock. It broke through the collapse like a whale breaching the surface of a frozen sea.
Below Azhdar was Kaiser, Ayumu, and the rest—safe in the shadow of its body, sheltered by its wings.
The impact of Azhdar's ascent shook the ground for miles.
Brinn and the villagers were halfway up the mountain path when the earth lurched beneath their feet. The people stumbled, some falling to their knees.
"Earthquake!" someone shouted.
But Brinn was not looking at the ground.
He was looking at the mountain.
From the rubble of the collapsed cave, from the heap of stone and dust that had once been an entrance—something erupted. A massive shape, dark as night, wings spread wide, roaring as it was tearing apart the rubble around it.
A wyvern.
The villagers paled. Some screamed. Others turned to run. One old woman dropped her basket and began praying.
"The djinn!" a man gasped. "The djinn has been released!"
Brinn did not move. His sharp eyes watched the creature—not with fear, but with calculation.
The wyvern was not attacking. It was breaking rubble. Like it is trying to clear a path.
And then—a figure climbed out of the wreckage.
A man. Dark hair. Red eyes—faintly glowing, even from this distance. He is seen cradling something in his arms.
Brinn realized these were the same people that came to him for information last time.
He shouted at the others to follow him faster and not to be afraid of the wyvern. Some followed, some did not.
---------------------------------------------------
Kaiser reached the top of the rubble pile and stepped onto solid ground.
The air was breezy and clean. So different from the stale, heavy air of the cave. He could see the sky, grey with clouds, and the distant treeline, and the path leading down the mountain.
But he barely noticed any of it as his eyes were fixed on Ayumu.
Her face was paler than usual. Her lips were colorless. The trickle of blood from her forehead had dried into a dark red line. Her eyes… her eyes were fluttering. Opening. Closing. Opening again.
"Ayumu." Kaiser's voice was rough. He shifted her in his arms, one hand cradling her head, and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Are you okay? Stay with me."
Her eyelids lifted—just a crack. Those gentle golden eyes, half-lost in exhaustion, found his face.
"I-I'm fine… Lord Kaiser." Her voice was like whisper of a whisper. "Just… tired."
Then her eyes closed.
Her body went limp in his arms.
Kaiser's heart stopped.
"Ayumu?" He shook her gently. "Ayumu!"
She did not respond. Her chest rose and fell—slowly, shallowly—but she did not wake.
Kaiser held her tighter, his hand still pressed to her cheek, his thumb tracing her cheekbone like he could will her back to consciousness.
Behind him, Azhdar lowered its itself into the hole it had created. Its jaws opened—carefully, gently—and one by one, it plucked the unconscious bodies from the rubble. Rhea first. Then Drobar. Then Levain. Then Fifi. Then Osmond. It placed them on the ground beside Kaiser in a neat, almost tender row.
Then the wyvern turned to its master.
Its ancient voice rumbled, "She is fine."
Kaiser's shoulders sagged—just slightly.
"But she has used too much of her own energy. She might not wake for a long while."
Kaiser looked at Azhdar, then down at Ayumu's still face. Her white hair fanned across his arm. Her breath was soft against his chest.
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
Azhdar huffed—a great cloud of black smoke—and then its form began to dissolve.
Kaiser was the only one left, awake.
He looked down the mountain trail and saw figures were approaching. People. Like a dozen at least, maybe more.
Kaiser's eyes narrowed the the person walking ahead of the others.
It was Brinn.
The merchant guild leader reached the top of the rubble first, slightly out of breath but composed. He stopped a few feet from Kaiser and looked around—at the scattered bodies, at the broken stone, at the crater behind them.
Then he looked at Kaiser. At Ayumu in his arms.
He smiled—a wry, knowing smile.
"Well," Brinn said, folding his arms. "That dragon was yours. You all are such a special lot, causing such destruction…"
Kaiser's red eyes locked onto Brinn. He was on guard as his arms tightened around Ayumu's limp form, pulling her closer to his chest.
Brinn chuckled—a low, easy sound, entirely unbothered by the black magis' glare.
"Relax," he said, spreading his empty hands. "We are here to help." He gestured behind him at the villagers with stretchers and blankets. "Come on. Let's get you all out of here. You can rest at the inn." His eyes glinted—shrewd, practical. "Your treatment will be expensive, though."
Kaiser did not hesitate.
"Charge whatever," he said, his voice low and serious. His gaze dropped to Ayumu's pale face, her closed eyes, the slow rise and fall of her chest. "Just first have a look at her."
He gestured with his chin toward the white-haired woman in his arms.
The villagers stepped closer—then stopped.
Murmurs rippled through the group. Eyes widened. Feet shuffled backward.
"Isn't that the ghost?" someone whispered.
"Is that a cursed being?"
"I don't want to come close to it!"
Kaiser's jaw tightened. His red eyes flickered—a spark of anger igniting in their depths. His free hand curled into a fist.
Ghost? Cursed being? It?
They did not know her. They did not know the weight she had carried, the energy and blood she had shed to keep them all alive. They saw only white hair and pale skin and something different—and they called it evil.
He opened his mouth to shout—
But Brinn's arm blocked him. He stepped between Kaiser and the villagers, his broad back a shield. He simply looked at his people. A quiet, commanding gaze—and the murmurs died.
"Don't mind them," Brinn said, turning back to Kaiser. His voice was calm, almost apologetic. "They are just not used to foreigners." He glanced at Ayumu, then back at Kaiser. "The women at my guild will treat and care for her. Don't you worry."
Kaiser stared at him for a long moment.
Then slowly, the tension in his shoulders eased.
Finally, it was all over. Kaiser thought.
He looked down at Ayumu's face and felt something crack open in his chest. Something he had been holding shut for a very long time.
"Thank you," he said quietly. The words felt strange on his tongue. He was not used to saying them.
Brinn just smiled and waved a hand. "Save your thanks for when you pay the bill."
Then he turned to his villagers and began barking orders—who would carry which body, who would run ahead to prepare the inn, who would send word to the guild. The fear on the villagers' faces did not vanish, but it faded.
Kaiser stood among the chaos, Ayumu in his arms, and watched the grey sky.