Far in the distance, Rosalia led the women and children toward the mountains, toward an older and far more dangerous place than the land they once called home. Smoke still drifted behind them, clinging to their clothes and the air around them, but her face held no tears. Every step felt heavy, as if the burden of her people, her father, and the name of a chieftain's daughter all rested on her shoulders at once.
But she knew that if she wanted to lead them well, she had no time to think about whether her father would live or die. The ones who still needed help had to come first.
"Let's move faster. Those who can help the elderly, carry them on your shoulders. Those who can carry pregnant women, work in pairs and make it easier for them. We can't waste time. If we fail to flee and they find us..." she stopped herself before speaking the rest. Panic was the last thing they needed, though deep in her heart, she knew they all understood what would happen if they were caught.
"Miss Rosalia," Light called as he came up beside her. He carried his grandmother on his back, his thin body trembling under the weight, each step looking ready to give out, yet his eyes still refused to surrender. Somehow, that alone gave him the strength to keep moving. "Will Max be alright?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
"He..." Rosalia's chest tightened at once at the thought of the man who had caused all of this. Anger, pain, and something heavier twisted together inside her, but she could not bring herself to tell Light the truth. He was a foolish, kind-hearted boy. A truth like that, especially about a newly acquired friend, would crush him too easily.
"I'm sure he's alright with my father, so you don't need to worry about him..." Rosalia said with an awkward laugh, though her words drew only tired sighs from the women who had seen what Max had done.
But to Light, those words were enough to make his entire face brighten. "Really? Then we'll see him again. Chief Henry too. Come on, all of you, let's keep moving!" he shouted with all the strength he had left, his excitement breathing new life into the exhausted youths around him.
Rosalia looked at Light with a stunned expression. She did not understand why Max had left such a deep mark on this boy. But then again, he had done the same to her. Even now, she could not stop thinking about him.
She hated what he had done, hated the destruction, the fear, and the pain he had brought, yet something buried deep inside still cared whether he was safe or not. She did not want Max to die. Secretly, she wanted to see him again. At least one last time.
"They are here!" a loud shout echoed from behind, washing over the survivors and draining the color from their faces. "We found them!"
Rosalia turned at once, her body twisting so sharply it was almost violent. "Run! I'll hold them off!" she shouted to her people. Several shook their heads, unwilling to leave her behind, but the moment they met her eyes and saw gray melting into purple, none of them dared to disobey. The ferocity and pain burning inside that gaze left no room for argument.
First came the wings, white as fresh snow. Then the horns. And unlike anybody else, a thick draconic tail burst from behind her, twisting like a serpent through the air. Frost spread through the aura around Rosalia, as if the very air itself had been forced to harden beneath her will.
Her eyes turned draconic, blazing with fury as she waited for the attackers she had long expected. Purple flames wrapped around her claws, so cold that they seemed to defy reason itself.
"Rosalia, it's us!" The closer the voices drew, the clearer it became who they belonged to.
"William?" she shouted, surprise and joy crashing together in her voice. The ones who had fled ahead heard her call out that familiar name and immediately turned back. One after another, the Ice Dragon warriors burst out from the woods, their bodies covered in blood but still standing strong. Though there were fewer of them than before, the mere sight of the men returning was enough to bring hope back to the women.
"Father!" Rosalia shot forward, still in her draconic-human hybrid form, her speed so great that she crossed the distance in only a few breaths. "Are you alright? What happened? Did you manage to fend them off?" she fired question after question, drawing an awkward smile from him. At the same time, Light ran as fast as he could, his desperate eyes scanning the ground for only one person.
"Where's Max?" he asked, his voice trembling. He searched desperately, but he could not find him, and the sorrowful looks the warriors gave at the mention of Max made his heart sink to the worst conclusion. Rosalia felt it too. He had likely died. She could not even describe what she felt in that moment. Relief and sorrow twisted together inside her in a way that made her chest ache.
Henry placed a hand on his daughter's head as he spoke. "Better forget him. He made a great contribution to our clan, but we will never see him again—"
At that exact moment, a thunderous roar from the ice dragon tore through the air, dragging everyone's attention toward the sky.
The ice dragon came into view in all its majesty, its enormous wings cutting across the sky so wide they nearly swallowed the sun as it rushed toward them.
"The ancestral beast is back!" joyful cries rang out through the area, returning hope to the clan that had lost its home.
Henry narrowed his eyes as he stared at the dragon. Something was wrong. He could tell from the way it moved. Its flight was too careful, too measured, as if it were carrying something precious on its back. When he looked closer, he spotted a small figure dressed in strange clothes. His face went pale. "Impossible... how is he—"
Rosalia looked at her father in confusion. He was the only one not rejoicing, but when her eyes followed his, her draconic vision sharpened far beyond human limits, locking onto the figure riding atop the dragon.
"Max?!"