I’d left a bouquet of white flowers that glowed faintly in front of his grave. They were Pathfinder flowers Kallen had gathered in the forest.
I didn’t know where Leobin had gone, but at least he wasn’t wandering lost anymore.
It was like a small, merciful rain—enough to moisten a chest that had dried out and cracked open.
When I smiled at Margon, he avoided my eyes with a wavering gaze. His lips moved a few times, and then he clenched his left hand tight and spoke.
"I’m sorry, but I haven’t given up on the real Ceryl."
He stared silently at the gorge where dragon flame was roaring. In a low, sunken voice, he went on.
"If the real Ceryl returns one day, his body has to be healthy. So... so I can’t let you die."
Margon, who’d been confused after realizing I was a fake Ceryl, seemed to have reached his conclusion over the last few days.
Wiping away the tears still running, I murmured.
"Right. Because we don’t know when the real Ceryl will come back."
"Then be careful. It’s not your body, so stop doing dangerous things."
"Haha. Got it. Since I’m borrowing it, I’ll use it carefully."
Margon shot me a sulky look. Then he shook the blood off the sword and slid it back into its scabbard.
The sword Varen had gifted fit Margon perfectly in both weight and length. Like it had been his from the start.
He followed my gaze to the blade and shrugged.
"So that’s why he said he was giving out weapons. Looks like he expected something like this."
Varen had definitely seen Kallen and Margon’s future. When I had room to breathe, I’d have to ask him again what kind of road lay ahead for them.
I forced my exhausted body up and stood at the cliff’s edge. Then I closed my eyes and sharpened my hearing.
The sound of huge wings beating was drawing closer.
On the other hand, there were no human voices. No matter how hard I focused, I couldn’t find any trace of the army.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw Varen returning. He was dazzling gold, without a single scratch.
A bright smile rose on its own. My mouth nearly split with it, and my eyes flooded with joy.
"We won... In the Belzena war, Dravergh won."
The emotion swelling up inside me burst like a fountain.
In that overwhelming high, it felt like every cell in my body was boiling.
Seeing Varen approach, Margon took a few steps back and cleared his throat.
"I’ll head back the way I came. I’ll see you up there."
Whether he was stepping aside for us, or he was still afraid of the dragon’s true form, Margon left those words behind and hurried back the way he’d come.
And I forgot the reunion with Margon almost immediately.
I simply spread my arms wide to welcome the greatest contributor who’d carried the war to victory.
"Varen! It’s all over!! You won!!"
The enormous dragon that had flown overhead gave off a faint glow in the air. In the blink of an eye, there was only one tall, handsome man with long golden hair flowing in the wind.
Varen stepped down as if the air itself were stairs. The moment his feet touched the ground safely, he strode straight toward me.
"Ceryl, come here."
As if we’d practiced it, we pulled each other into a fierce embrace. We held each other tight without a gap, feeling each other’s warmth.
The dragon’s body was still full of heat, and the human body was intoxicated with the high of victory.
From Varen came that distinctive body-scent that always made me feel safe, along with a faint smell of something burned. The more I breathed it in, the more my overexcited emotions settled down.
I let out a small laugh and pulled back from Varen’s arms. Then I scanned him head to toe with my eyes, checking for injuries.
"Varen, you’re not hurt, right?"
"I should be asking you. Why are you all the way down here?"
"Mm. I came to meet you."
Varen narrowed his eyes like he didn’t like my answer.
He saw through the lie instantly, but he didn’t press further about why I’d come down from the cavern. Instead, he examined me slowly, the way I’d just examined him.
His large palm lightly held one cheek. Despite the thickness of his fingertips, his touch was delicate as he smoothed back my tangled hair.
My eyes creased on their own at that gentle warmth. I grabbed his wrist and pressed my face into his palm, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Haa... it’s all over now. Everything’s over."
Even now, I couldn’t believe this moment.
Pulling Varen off the original story’s rails—and leading the Belzena war to a dragon victory.
Those two things alone had been my goals for this life. Now that I’d achieved them °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° perfectly, it felt like I had the whole world.
More than anything, my chest felt like it would burst at Varen’s growth. Seeing my dragon—who used to collapse with fevers and spit blood at the slightest thing—flying faster and higher than anyone was a scene I wanted to keep forever.
Only after I’d soaked up his warmth to my heart’s content did I lift my head and smile.
"Varen, you were incredible. Dravergh, for sure. And our dragon punk—you’re the best!"
Compared to my bright smile, Varen’s expression was dark. For some reason, there was even sadness gathered in his blue eyes.
At that look, the corners of my mouth stiffened. Was there an injury I hadn’t seen? I reached up with both hands, cupped his cheeks, and stroked them slowly.
"What’s with that face? Are you hurt? Or are you still in pain?"
"No. I’m not hurt, and I’m not in pain."
"Then why do you look like you’re about to cry. The dragons won, Varen. Thanks to you, all the humans are dead—"
"Seven of our kin died."
Varen dropped that single line in a deeply sunken voice.
At his words, I stopped mid-sentence and fell silent.
In the original Belzena war, every dragon but Varen was slaughtered. Knowing that, this war felt like an overwhelming victory from my perspective.
But it was Varen’s first war. With such a brutal sacrifice of precious kin behind it, he couldn’t feel joy at the win.
A beat late, I finally understood his sense of loss. I stretched my arms farther and stroked his golden hair.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t think that far."
"You don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s all because of me."
"Why is it because of you."
"...Because I was weak, I couldn’t save them."
Varen’s thick brows drooped into a deep curve. His door-wide shoulders drew inward, pitifully narrow.
My chest ached at the sight of Varen blaming himself. In a hurry, I stroked his head and caressed his cheeks, offering clumsy comfort.
"No, Varen. Don’t think that way. You saved so many more dragons."
"There were kin I couldn’t save."
"Still... without you, we wouldn’t have won this war. If we’d lost—just imagining it is awful, but—then it wouldn’t have been seven. Every dragon would’ve been in danger."
Was I always this bad with words? My own rambling frustrated me.
And Varen’s face still wouldn’t loosen. It was like he couldn’t hear anything—I couldn’t even get him to meet my eyes.
Feeling like words wouldn’t work, I wrapped both arms tightly around his neck. Hugging someone so much bigger than me was uncomfortable for both of us, but now it was becoming familiar.
Varen bent his upper body deeply and pulled my waist into him with both arms. Then he buried his face at the back of my neck and even rubbed his lips there.
"...Ceryl."
His voice was dry, but at the same time, it carried moisture.
I slowly stroked the back of Varen’s head, soaked in sadness and guilt.
"It’s okay. It’s all okay, Varen. Don’t blame yourself."
Then I swelled my chest and took a deep breath in. I was sorry for Varen, drowning in grief, but holding him in my arms with not a single fingertip hurt finally made me feel like I could breathe again.
Varen also said nothing—he only breathed in my scent. As always, his lips touched a sensitive spot.
It didn’t feel intentional, but Varen mouthed at it like a habit. I barely managed to suppress the laugh that wanted to spill out at the tickling sensation on my neck.
After staying in my arms for a long while and settling, Varen loosened the arms wrapped tightly around me and faced me.
Seeing his expression improved, my own heart relaxed, too.
"We have to hold funerals. I’ll go recover our kin’s bodies."
"Yeah. Don’t go alone. It’s dangerous."
"I won’t. And a dragon funeral will last for a full week."
Instead of forcing sympathy or comfort, I just nodded plainly.
Varen stared at my face for a moment. He brushed aside my sweat-damp bangs, then pressed his lips lightly to my forehead.
By now, that kind of touch wasn’t even surprising.
"Ceryl, wait somewhere safe. I’ll come get—"
But in the middle of speaking, Varen flinched. His body, frozen with his lips still on me, didn’t loosen.
That strange reaction made me lean back and look at him properly. The back of my neck turned cold at the unfamiliar state.
Varen’s blue eyes were brightening, then darkening, over and over. Even his breathing seemed difficult—he made choking, suppressed sounds.
"Why all of a sudden—"
"Ghk... ghk...."
Varen’s body jerked at a few-second rhythm. He kept making sounds like he was forcing something heavy down, over and over.
