The crimson sky remained unchanged.
Burning.
Ancient.
Endless.
Two weeks inside the Dragon Realm had carved themselves deeply into the surviving explorers. The people who once entered this world carrying excitement and curiosity now walked with quiet caution beneath their eyes.
Armor had become scarred.
Robes burned and stitched repeatedly.
Faces thinner.
Expressions heavier.
And yet—
They were alive.
That alone felt miraculous now.
The remaining expedition rested near the edge of a gigantic black canyon where rivers of glowing magma flowed far beneath jagged obsidian cliffs. Massive skeletal remains from ancient draconic creatures surrounded the region like forgotten monuments of extinct gods.
The air carried constant heat.
Sulfur.
And distant roars echoing somewhere far beyond the mountains.
The campfires burned quietly tonight.
No loud conversations.
No games.
No singing.
Only exhausted survivors sitting beneath the crimson heavens.
Kel stood slightly away from the camp near the cliff edge while holding several rough maps against the heated winds. Ancient notes, exploration markings, territorial symbols, and mana route calculations covered the parchments completely.
His dark eyes moved across the maps carefully.
Measuring.
Calculating.
Estimating.
Sairen quietly spoke through the soul-link.
"…You already decided, didn't you?"
Kel answered immediately.
"Yes."
The guardian sighed softly.
"…They won't like it."
Kel folded one map slowly.
"I know."
Then—
He finally turned toward the campfire.
The surviving explorers instinctively looked up the moment he approached.
Eleven remained now.
Including Kel himself.
Only eleven.
The realization still felt unreal sometimes.
Several faces carried visible exhaustion tonight.
One mercenary continuously rubbed an old wound near his shoulder absentmindedly.
A scholar quietly stared into the fire with hollow eyes.
Even Landon looked more worn now beneath the flickering red firelight.
The Dragon Realm had tested everyone equally.
Kel stopped beside the fire.
The heated wind moved softly through his black coat while distant dragon roars echoed faintly somewhere across the burning horizon.
Then finally—
He spoke.
"The time for the third batch has come."
Silence.
For a single moment—
No one reacted.
Then suddenly—
Someone laughed.
A tired laugh.
Disbelieving.
Relieved.
And like breaking tension from a snapped chain—
Others began laughing too.
"Finally…"
"Gods, I thought we'd die here."
"I can finally sleep without hearing monster roars every hour."
Several exhausted mercenaries laughed openly while one scholar nearly collapsed backward from relief alone.
Even Landon quietly exhaled while lowering his head slightly.
Because deep down—
Everyone understood.
The expedition had reached its limit.
Too many deaths.
Too much pressure.
Too much danger.
And now—
Return finally stood before them.
One younger mage actually smiled for the first time in days.
"…We're really going home."
The atmosphere softened visibly afterward.
Relief spread across the campfire like warmth after endless cold.
Until suddenly—
One explorer frowned slightly.
"…Wait."
The mercenary slowly looked around the camp.
Then toward Kel.
"…Why did you call it the third batch?"
The laughter gradually quieted.
The explorer continued slowly.
"…Aren't we all returning now?"
Silence spread.
Kel's expression did not change.
Not even slightly.
The crimson firelight reflected softly across his dark eyes as heated winds moved through the camp.
Then calmly—
He answered.
"You are."
The atmosphere instantly changed.
Several explorers stiffened.
Kel continued calmly.
"I will advance further alone."
Complete silence.
The burning campfire crackled softly between them.
Several people genuinely thought they misheard him.
"…What?"
Landon's silver-gray eyes narrowed instantly.
Meanwhile—
Kel's voice remained steady.
"The final exploration phase still remains incomplete."
One scholar immediately stood.
"You're insane."
The words escaped almost instinctively.
Another mercenary quickly added—
"There's no one left to accompany you."
"Yes!"
A wounded scout spoke sharply.
"You can't continue alone in this realm."
The atmosphere rapidly shifted from relief into disbelief.
Kel remained calm amidst it all.
"I can continue alone."
That answer only made things worse.
Several explorers visibly looked frustrated now.
Not angry.
Worried.
Because after surviving together for weeks beneath the crimson skies—
Heral no longer felt merely like a leader.
He had become their anchor.
And now—
He calmly intended walking deeper into hell alone.
Landon finally spoke.
"No."
The single word cut through the campfire sharply.
Kel looked toward him silently.
The young lord slowly stood from beside the fire while ash and red light reflected across his silver-black combat coat.
His expression remained controlled.
Yet tension clearly rested beneath it.
"You're not continuing alone."
Kel answered immediately.
"Landon."
"No."
The noble's voice sharpened slightly now.
"We agreed to explore together."
Kel calmly shook his head.
"We agreed three batches would return."
Several explorers slowly realized what he meant.
The original expedition framework.
Three rotational return groups.
Then afterward—
The remaining core force would continue deeper exploration.
Except now—
Only Kel remained willing to continue.
One scholar quietly muttered—
"…You planned this possibility already…"
Kel did not deny it.
Because of course he had planned it.
Sairen softly sighed through the soul-link.
"…You really do treat yourself differently from everyone else."
Kel ignored the comment.
Meanwhile—
The camp atmosphere grew increasingly tense.
One older mercenary stood suddenly.
"You saved all our lives repeatedly."
His scarred face darkened beneath the crimson firelight.
"And now you expect us to simply leave you here alone?"
Kel's answer came immediately.
"Yes."
The simplicity of the response almost angered several people.
One wounded mage laughed bitterly.
"…You really are impossible."
Yet despite the frustration—
No one could fully argue against him either.
Because deep down—
Everyone knew something undeniable.
Among them all—
Kel alone truly possessed the ability to survive deeper exploration.
His power.
His mana reserves.
His combat instincts.
His understanding of this realm.
None of them matched him anymore.
And perhaps—
That realization hurt most of all.
Meanwhile—
Kel calmly looked toward the crimson horizon beyond the canyon cliffs.
The Dragon Realm still stretched endlessly ahead.
Ancient.
Unexplored.
Dangerous.
And somewhere deeper within it—
Things existed he still needed to find.
The silence around the campfire grew heavy.
Then finally—
Kel spoke once more.
"The South needs this information."
His dark eyes slowly returned toward the survivors.
"We entered this world blindly."
The fire crackled softly.
"If future expeditions come…"
A faint pause followed.
"…someone must already know what waits deeper ahead."
Several explorers lowered their eyes slightly afterward.
Because once again—
His reasoning made sense.
Cruel sense.
But sense nonetheless.
Kel calmly continued.
"You all survived."
The heated wind moved softly through the canyon.
"That means your duty now changes."
His gaze sharpened slightly.
"Return home."
"Deliver everything."
"Prepare the South for what comes next."
And beneath the burning crimson sky of the Dragon Realm—
The surviving explorers slowly realized something terrifying.
Heral had already accepted long ago…
That he himself was expendable.