Words hold only as much weight as we choose to give them. A promise, no matter how hollow it might seem to one person, can become an unshakable vow to another—a lifeline in the darkest moments, or a burden carried across countless years.

  And sometimes, the promises we make to ourselves—the quiet, unspoken oaths whispered into the void when no one else is listening—are the ones that shape us most profoundly. These silent vows anchor us, define us, and, in the end, chart the course of our lives.

  Yet, these personal promises are treacherous things. Misunderstood by others, and sometimes even by ourselves, they twist and pull us in directions we can’t always control. What we hold dear and unyielding, others might see as stubbornness, naivety, or obsession.

  They go by many names: Ideals. Dreams. Morality. But in the end, they’re the same—a compass that keeps us moving, even when the path ahead is shrouded in uncertainty.

  And yet, no matter how fiercely we cling to them, sometimes…

  They shatter, and in their wake, our darkest desires are set free.

  Luka was no stranger to these vows. However now, it held no meaning as the pull of life brought him back from Xilna. A slow warmth began spreading through his body, his left arm glowing with a familiar heat.

  While a contract could be used to give life force to a succubus, the inverse could be possible.

  “You’re alive…You’re alive…”

  The sound of muffled sobs brought him back fully. Shielded from the relentless mountain winds, Luka became aware of his surroundings. He heard the slow rustle of fabric flapping against the wind, and the gentle scent of wildflowers invaded his senses.

  He opened his eyes slowly, the world around him coming into focus. He was nestled beneath a small tent, his head resting on a pile of soft blankets.

  His gaze shifted to the source of the sobs, and there, crouched beside him, was Saki. Her hands were trembling, gripping the edge of the blanket that covered him. Her usually sharp, unbothered expression was gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

  “Don’t you ever do that again,” she whispered, her voice shaking as tears streaked down her face.

  Luka blinked, his throat dry. His mind raced to piece together what had happened, and he soon remembered everything.

  Right… I was ‘killed’.

  “Saki…” His voice was hoarse, barely audible, but it was enough to make her look up.

  Her blurry green eyes locked onto his, with a mixture of relief and fury. “You idiot,” she hissed, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “You almost died!”

  “I…” He tried to sit up, but his legs were unresponsive, a biting, searing cold radiating through them and stopping him short. A sharp groan escaped his lips, and he sank back into the blankets, his breath shallow and uneven.

  “Don’t move,” Saki said quickly, her tone softening despite her words. She reached out, hesitating for just a moment before placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. “You’re not fully healed yet.”

  Luka’s gaze flicked to her hand and then back to her face, noticing the redness around her eyes and the faint streaks on her cheeks. She looked exhausted, like she’d been crying for hours.

  She didn’t heal me… What did she do? he asked himself as he looked at her.

  “You should listen to her,” a gruff voice cut interrupted his thoughts, his eyes darting toward the tent’s entrance. A tall, broad figure stepped inside, ducking slightly to avoid the low ceiling. “She used her life force to wake you up. You ought to be grateful.”

  Luka recognized immediately the form of Granbell, the dragonkin they had met back when they first arrived in Dreikheim.

  “You’re here too…” Luka murmured, his voice still weak.

  “Of course,” Granbell replied, settling himself on the ground beside Luka. His massive weapon rested at his side. He picked up a handful of branches from a pile and began stacking them in the center of the tent. With a flick of his clawed fingers, a small flame ignited, crackling to life and illuminating the space. “The snowstorm outside will ease up soon, but you’ll need to stay put for a while.”

  “Thank you, Granbell,” Saki said, offering him a weary but warm smile.

  Granbell snorted in response. “Don’t worry about it. Our goals align, that’s all.”

  “What do you mean?” Luka asked, his voice returning slowly as Saki poured more of her life force into him.

  “I want revenge,” Granbell growled, his clawed hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. “On that mangy dog of Araka. That worm drove me out of Dreikheim, slaughtered many, and took the Jarl’s body as well as the entire village hostage.”

  “When I was flying with you in my arms,” Saki added, “I spotted him against a crevasse in the mountains nearby. I thought he might help so… I brought you here.”

  “And you were right to do so,” Granbell said with a smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the firelight. “If you hadn’t, that storm would’ve been the death of you both.”

  Luka frowned, glancing between them. “Do you know why Araka is here?”

  Granbell’s smirk faded, replaced by a grim expression. “Yeah… He’s after the Amulet of Dreikheim. It’s said to have the power to awaken the dragons buried deep beneath the mountains—and to control them. We’re not talking about a handful, either. I’m talking thousands of them, enough to drown this world in fire and ash.”

  Saki’s face turned pale, her hand instinctively clutching her chest. “Dragons…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Kaeris already has his demons, and now he wants an army of dragons too?”

  Granbell nodded grimly. “Exactly. With an army of dragons under his command, nothing could stop him.”

  “He’s already broken as he is and he wants more…” Luka clicked his tongue as he sat straight up, despite Saki’s protests. “That bastard… This is getting unfair.”

  Granbell’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering across his face. “Don’t tell me…” His voice was low and measured. “You’re planning to fight Kaeris?”

  “Of course I am,” Luka snapped, glaring at the dragonkin. “I’ve already fought him once, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

  “Wait, Luka, you’re serious?” Even Saki was shocked and she recoiled in surprise.

  Granbell stared at Luka with an intense, searching gaze. Slowly, his lips curled into what could only be described as a genuine smile, his sharp teeth gleaming in the firelight. “You’re not lying,” he said, his tone filled with a strange mix of admiration and amusement. “I can tell from your scent… You mean every word.”

  “Why would I need to lie?” Luka sighed, irritation creeping into his voice. “Besides, I’m a terrible liar.”

  Granbell let out a booming laugh, the sound echoing in the small tent. He reached out and clapped Luka on the shoulder, his strength nearly knocking Luka back into the blankets. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? A warrior like you, and you’re just sitting here like some pup! Hah!”

  “Warrior might be a stretch,” Luka muttered, grimacing as he adjusted his position.

  Saki crossed her arms, frowning. “He’s still recovering, Granbell. Laugh all you want, but if he tries to move again, I’ll—”

  “You’ll what?” Granbell interrupted with a smirk, though his tone was more teasing than hostile. “Don’t worry, girl. I’m not about to let the kid keel over before he gets his chance.”

  “I… I still feel the sting of your slap,” Luka muttered, wincing as the lingering shock from Granbell’s palm reverberated through his sore body.

  “My brother always said, ‘If you can’t handle pain, you can’t handle life!’ Gahaha!” Granbell roared, slapping his knee in amusement.

  “Granbell…” Saki sighed. “You’re a dragonkin. Humans are fragile compared to you.”

  “Really?” Luka interjected, raising an eyebrow. “How fragile are we talking?”

  Granbell grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “I could split you in half with my bare hands.”

  “WHAT?” Luka blurted, his face a mixture of horror and disbelief.

  “He’s not joking, Luka,” Saki added, her face serious. “Dragonkin don’t rely on magic like we do, but they’re the strongest lifeforms on this continent. Their humanoid bodies hold the strength of an actual dragon.”

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “That’s… comforting,” Luka replied, his voice laced with sarcasm as he turned his gaze to Granbell. “Especially since you’re fighting with us and not against us.”

  “Of course!” Granbell smirked, leaning forward as he rested his elbows on his knees. “We’re allies now, kid. And don’t sell yourself short. You’re tougher than most humans I’ve come across.”

  “That’s not saying much,” Luka muttered under his breath.

  Granbell ignored the comment, his sharp eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on Luka. “But seriously—you fought Kaeris and lived. That’s no small feat. Most would’ve been dust before they even knew what hit them.”

  “I was just lucky…”

  That time, he didn’t lie either. Kaeris was a monster through and through, and if he could help it, he wouldn’t fight him again.

  “Surviving is what matters,” Granbell said, his tone suddenly serious. “Kaeris is no ordinary demon. He’s a real monster.”

  “I still don’t get it, though,” Luka said, frowning. “Why do you hate him?”

  “Well…” Granbell hesitated, scratching the back of his neck with his clawed fingers. His expression darkened, troubled. “Hate’s not quite the right word. I don’t hate Kaeris himself—I hate his methods.”

  “You mean… you agree with him?” Luka asked, his brow furrowing. “About regaining Tamia for the demons?”

  “I do,” Granbell admitted, his voice heavy. “We’ve been exiled to the Ark for so long. Most of us are sick of this place, tired of living in the shadows of what we used to be.” He sighed, his golden eyes glinting with something deeper—weariness, perhaps, or longing. His fingers traced the blade resting beside him, its surface a strange, smooth gray, like polished stone rather than metal. Luka stared at it, unable to identify the material.

  “But…” Granbell’s voice hardened as his grip on the blade tightened. “Killing all humans because they don’t ‘belong’ here? That’s absurd. Tamia was always a shared land, a place where everyone lived together. What Kaeris wants? That’s not justice. That’s vengeance disguised as righteousness.”

  You’re on the wrong side of justice

  Violet’s words echoed in Luka’s mind. If what was written in her book was true, then Kaeris might have been justified in his actions—or at least in his motives.

  But Luka found himself agreeing with Granbell.

  “You’re right,” Luka said with a faint smile. “Living together is better than fighting each other over a piece of land.”

  It sounded good in theory. But reality was far messier than that. Luka knew he was just throwing out hopeful words—words that felt hypocritical, given everything he’d done.

  “By the way,” Granbell said, breaking the tension with a frown. “How did it go? Your plan to add the succubi to humanity’s ranks?”

  “It didn’t happen,” Saki interjected flatly, cutting Luka off before he could answer. She gave him a knowing look, one that said I’ll handle this.

  Granbell raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the tent wall, his claws tapping idly on the hilt of his blade. “Didn’t happen, huh?” he mused, his tone dripping with casual cynicism. “I guess that’s succubi for you. They just do whatever they damn well please.”

  Luka said nothing, his gaze fixed on the flickering fire. Flashes of what he had done were still coming but faded almost as soon as they arrived.

  “Anyway,” Granbell picked up an apple and threw it a Luka. “Let’s rest for the day. We’ll go to the Valley tomorrow.”

  The young man looked at the apple with a long drawn-out gaze before biting into it. He had eaten nothing since the morning, and it was already dusk. “You’re right,” he said in-between bites. “We can stop these guys tomorrow.”

  “There was also this ghost who almost killed you,” Saki added, her tone barely betraying her hostility.

  “Oh, her.” Granbell plucked an apple from his sack and tossed it into his mouth whole, crunching through it in three bites. “Freya. She’s one of Kaeris’ generals, the fifth to be exact,” he said, his words slightly muffled by the apple as he chewed.

  Luka froze mid-bite, almost choking as he turned to face the dragonkin. “Wait, What?”

  Granbell wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued, his tone nonchalant. “Freya. Fifth general of the demon army. She’s no ordinary ghost, let me tell you. Even with my blade coated in ghost-slaying oil, she dodged my strikes like it was child’s play.”

  Saki’s face paled, her hand gripping the edge of her cloak. “So now we’re dealing with two generals?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Luka sighed, rubbing his temples as the weight of the situation settled in. “Great… Two mini-bosses. Just what we needed,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Freya’s not just any ghost, though. I think she was the ghost of an old assassin—one who fought in the last hero’s group.”

  “The old hero? You mean… An Edensveel?”

  “Exactly,” Granbell said with a nod, wiping his hand on his tunic. “I don’t know all the details, but I’ve heard enough stories to piece some of it together. Kaeris defeated the last Edensveel before the Great Demon War.”

  “Wait.” Luka’s eyes narrowed as the cogs in his brain turned. “That doesn’t add up. The last hero’s party would have been on the opposite side of the demon king. Why would one of them join Kaeris after death?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Granbell said, tossing another apple into his hand but not taking a bite. “Maybe Kaeris got to her first. Maybe she was betrayed. Or maybe…” He trailed off, his gaze hardening as he stared into the fire. “Maybe she wasn’t the hero’s ally to begin with.”

  “Besides, the last hero wasn’t even the last,” Luka continued, his thoughts going into overdrive. “There was the Emperor recently, and even recently there was Zaran Edensveel in the Inner Tamia.”

  “Of course,” Granbell chuckled. “Kaeris was still alive all this time. Sealed, yes, but alive. Heroes were still needed in case he would come back. And Wrimbo unsealed him two years ago, everyone knows that.”

  “It was an accident,” Saki shot back, a defensive edge to her tone.

  “Who knows?” Granbell shrugged. “What’s sure though, is that Freya is our enemy.”

  “Maybe she wasn’t working for him,” Saki suggested hesitantly. “At least, not willingly. What if Kaeris found a way to enslave her spirit? To bind her to his will?”

  “Like a necromancer?”

  “Perhaps,” Granbell said, chewing slowly as he mulled it over. His gaze shifted to Saki, his curiosity suddenly piqued. “By the way, you haven’t told me why you want to go to the cave, succubus.”

  “Oh,” Saki perked up, her eyes turning to Luka. “It’s Luka who wants to go there. He said there was something important hidden there.”

  Granbell’s eyes narrowed, his brows arching in suspicion. “Aside from the Amulet?”

  “By the way, speaking of the Amulet,” Luka changed the topic, hoping he could avoid answering that question. It was not the time to explain why for now, or it could destroy Saki and Granbell’s life as they were both demons. “Didn’t Wrimbo win it in the last trial?”

  Granbell paused, his curiosity temporarily derailed. “He did,” he confirmed, his voice tinged with disdain. There was something about the name ‘Wrimbo’ that made him dislike the guy despite having never met him. “The Jarl was a good friend of him so he was sure of it. However, he only tamed one dragon and decided to put back the amulet in its place before leaving Dreikheim for good.”

  “So that’s why it’s still there…”

  If Wrimbo had left the Amulet there, no wonder anyone else would want it. The question was: could they get it without participating in the ritual? There were still too many questions left to be answered, and Luka was starting to feel the toll of almost dying on his body. Even with the sugar of the apple rushing through his veins right now, he felt sleepy, and the conversation soon got the better of him.

  He yawned, the warmth of the fire lulling him into a sense of uneasy calm.

  Granbell grunted, standing and stretching his shoulders. “Looks like you’re tapped out, kid. Get some rest. That cave isn’t going anywhere.”

  Luka nodded faintly, his thoughts too scattered to respond. The unanswered questions churned in his mind, but the pull of sleep was stronger. As his eyes drifted shut, he couldn’t help but wonder: what should he do once he discovers the place written in that book?

  While he was sleeping, Saki and Granbell were still up and awake, the cold night settling in as the storm subsided. The starry sky showed itself, making Saki’s emerald eyes sparkle as she looked up.

  “Finally,” she murmured, tucking her knees to her chest, “I can see the stars without that stupid veil…”

  Granbell glanced over from where he sat, methodically sharpening his sword. His blade caught the firelight, gleaming like liquid silver. “You’re talking about the Sominium Vale’s veil?” he asked without looking up.

  Saki nodded, her gaze still fixed on the heavens. “Yeah. It feels… suffocating, you know? Always being under that endless purplish twilight.” She tore her gaze away from the sky and turned toward Granbell, her tone softening as she noticed his focused movements. “That sword of yours. It’s from Etna’s forge, isn’t it?”

  Granbell paused, his hand steady on the whetstone. His golden eyes flicked toward her, narrowed with suspicion. “How do you know that?”

  Saki smirked faintly, resting her chin on her knees. “Luvon’s armory was crafted there too. I know that forge’s signature work when I see it.” Her expression softened into something almost shy. “I’m kind of a Wrimbo fangirl, remember?”

  Granbell let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Right. A fan of a guy who doomed humanity. Can’t imagine why anyone would look up to him.”

  “It’s not about that.” Saki’s tone grew firm, and there was a flicker of passion in her eyes. “It’s about the choices he made. He would sacrifice everything to save his friends and people, even the world if he needed to.”

  Granbell raised an eyebrow, his movements slowing. “...He killed a dragon god. Do you even realize how grave that is?”

  “Two, actually,” she corrected, puffing out her chest with pride. “By killing Veo on the World Tree, he also ended the crazed Kaal and his terrible desert of death.”

  Granbell’s expression hardened, his sharpening movements stopping altogether. He looked at her sharply. “So, you saw his weapons?”

  Saki froze, her confidence slipping as she realized her mistake. She had said too much. Her gaze darted to the fire, trying to compose herself, but the slight blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. “Well…” She hesitated, searching for her words. “Let’s just say I know the signature work of the forge of Etna.”

  Her attempt at deflection only seemed to make Granbell’s suspicion deepen. “You know a lot for someone who’s just ‘interested’ in Wrimbo’s story,” he said, his voice low and measured.

  Saki coughed lightly, then pointed to his blade, desperate to change the subject. “Though… your sword looks different. It doesn’t even look like metal—it looks like stone.”

  Granbell’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he relented, turning the blade in his hands. The firelight danced along its unusual surface, highlighting the grain-like patterns etched into its stone-like material. “That’s because it is stone,” he said finally. “It’s made from a meteorite—one that fell near my village a long time ago.”

  “A…meteorite?” Saki’s tail stood on end as she took in the information. “But that’s impossi—I mean it’s rare…”

  Granbell barely noticed her change of tone as he nodded. “The forge of Etna was the only place capable of shaping it into something usable. It took months of work, and even then, it’s not like normal steel. It’s heavier, but it cuts cleaner, holds an edge longer. The elders said it carries the strength of the stars.” He glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Not that I believe in that kind of thing.”

  Saki tilted her head, her tail still lightly twitching as she processed the significance of the weapon. “Still…” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a piece of the heavens you’re carrying around, isn’t it?”

  Granbell’s gaze darkened slightly, and his sharp eyes glinted with something deeper. He set the sword down next to him and looked directly at Saki. “I can smell a liar when I see one. You’re hiding a lot of things, succubus.”

  Saki met his gaze with a slow, confident smile. “You’re right,” she smirked. “A woman has her own secrets after all…?” she said in a sing-song voice.

  “I hope it’s not the kind of secrets that are dangerous.”

  Saki waved a hand dismissively, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “Of course not.” She leaned back on her arms, her usual nonchalance returning. “I do know a lot, but not everything needs to be said.”

  “There was a lie in there.”

  Saki’s eyes widened slightly before she recovered, an exaggerated pout forming on her lips. “Are you a lie detector or something? That’s not fair!”

  “I don’t mind lies,” the dragonkin sighed. “In fact, everyone lies, even if it’s just to themselves. So that’s not what’s bothering me.”

  Saki tilted her head, a little confused but intrigued by his words. “Then what is it?”

  Granbell let out another sigh, his expression softening slightly, but there was a hint of frustration behind it. “It’s the fact that because of it, this kid is not trusting you completely.”

  Saki’s playful demeanor faltered for a moment as she processed his words. “Luka?”

  “Yeah,” Granbell said, his gaze steady as he regarded her. “He might act like everything’s fine, but deep down… he’s still trying to figure you out. And you’ve made it harder for him by keeping things from him.”

  Saki’s playful smirk faded slightly as Granbell’s words settled into her thoughts. She looked at Luka, still asleep by the fire, but something in the way Granbell spoke made her feel the weight of her own actions. She hadn’t thought about it that way. “How do you know that?”

  “He still keeps his distance. Didn’t you realize how bothered he was when you touched him?”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s because of something else…” she deadpanned.

  Still, perhaps he wasn’t wrong. She had her reasons, of course. Things that she kept buried. Things that she was scared to tell him. Perhaps it was why she couldn’t bridge the gap between them, why he was so silent with her.

  The silence stretched between them, and Saki let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh. "Maybe I’ve been a little too closed off," she admitted reluctantly.

  Granbell’s expression softened ever so slightly. He didn’t need to say anything more for Saki to understand that he had seen it all before. “Though I think seeing you tear up like that upon his awakening might change his mind. It really looks like you two are good friends, so don’t hide too much from the other, okay?”

  Her voice softened, almost a whisper as she glanced away, her gaze fixed on the fire. “You’re saying this as if it’s something that happened to you.”

  “I had a friend once,” he said, the words heavy with memory. “I had to kill him because he couldn’t trust me.”

  Saki was silent, unsure how to respond. She didn’t want to know the full extent of his past—didn’t want to know what kind of life had led Granbell to that point. But his words lingered, like a warning wrapped in wisdom. “This is what it means to be a warrior. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices.”