The infirmary still smelled of steel and smoke.

Candles guttered along the stone walls, their flames trembling as if they, too, remembered the battle. The night beyond the high, cracked windows was bruised purple, heavy with ash drifting from the outer courtyards.

Through the haze, faint shouts could still be heard—Slayers calling to one another, servants dragging the wounded through the mud, the echoes of command and fear tangled together.

Aiden sat upright on the cot, his body bandaged but his mind far from rest. Amber knelt beside him, her hands glowing with faint green as she worked another thread of healing through his ribs.

Behind him, Akinda moved with the careful efficiency of someone refusing to show her exhaustion—wringing out bloodied cloths, replacing poultices, whispering the small prayers taught to battlefield medics.

The air felt thick, suspended between breaths.

"Where's Catherine?" Aiden's voice cut the silence. It was rough, scraped raw by smoke and fatigue. "I haven't seen her."

Amber didn't look up. "....I don't know," she said quietly, her voice barely louder than the hum of her magic.

Akinda's gaze flicked to the window before she answered, "She said she was going to take care of ...business?"

Business...?

Aiden almost laughed. He knew what that meant. Catherine never called vengeance business, but she might as well have.

He pictured her—golden hair whipping in the stormlight, eyes that carried the glint of dragonfire—and the memory drew both pride and unease through his chest. There had always been something untamed in her, something born from older bloodlines and older wars.

"She'll be fine," he murmured. "She always is."

But beneath the words, a shadow stirred. He wanted to believe that. The same way a drowning man wants to believe in air.

He remembered her strength—the way her very aura had once cracked the flagstones beneath her feet when she'd sparred against the many knights.

The Leonidus line had been blessed, or cursed, depending on who you asked. Their ancestors had struck pacts with dragons during the first Mana War, sealing bloodlines that would never fade. Catherine had inherited more than anyone expected.

And yet, even her power had limits. Aiden had seen what came out of the dungeon—the abomination that called itself Aros. Even dragons would hesitate before that.

He exhaled slowly. The room felt smaller.

Amber's voice broke his reverie. "Why....Why was the monster after you?"

The question froze him. Akinda's hand paused mid-motion, cloth still pressed against his shoulder.

"What?" Akinda asked. "What do you mean, after him?"

Aiden blinked, confusion swirling with realization. Amber's eyes glimmered faintly—green threaded with something deeper, almost spectral. He understood then: the bond. She knew because she felt it. Their souls had been tied the moment she was within his leashed Possession, the moment he'd let his own life thread knot into hers.

Amber already knew everything. She had just waited. Patient as light, waiting for truth to surface.

He sighed, leaning back against the cold metal frame of the cot. "When Arina and I entered that dungeon... the one where I found you—it wasn't just another gate. It was Skyfall.. Elves territory."

Akinda's eyes widened. "You went to the dungeon? That's... that's a death sentence."

"It nearly was." He paused, memories flashing—crimson halls lined with bone, the stench of decay mixed with ozone. "That's where I met him. Aros. A hybrid… no, an abomination. Half-dragon, half-elf. He was reckoning his revenge, When the gate of the elven territory opened, he passed through. We crossed paths."

Akinda swallowed. "And ...you survived that?"

"Barely." Aiden gave a humorless smile. "We struck a deal."

Amber's healing light dimmed for a moment. "A ...deal?"

"Yes." His tone turned low, almost ashamed. "He let me live—on the condition that when he came for me again, I wouldn't run. That I'd face him. That I'd keep my word."

Silence rippled through the room like a falling blade.

Akinda finally spoke, voice trembling. "You—you made a deal with that thing? Are you insane? Every time, every damn time you step closer to the edge—what are you, an adrenaline addict? Do you want to die?"

Her anger wasn't fury; it was fear wearing armor. Aiden could hear it.

"I didn't have a choice," he said softly. "It was that, or none of us would have made it out."

Akinda threw down the bloodied cloth. "You always say that."

Her words hung there, trembling between them. Amber looked away, eyes shadowed. Aiden couldn't answer. Because deep down, Akinda was right. There was a part of him that always walked toward the fire, never away from it. Maybe it was courage. Maybe it was curse.

A knock came then—sharp, deliberate, echoing through the chamber.

All three turned.

The door opened without waiting for permission. The air changed—pressure dropping, the temperature dipping as mana rippled like invisible water.

A man entered. Tall. Broad. Cloaked in black that shimmered faintly with runes older than the guild itself. His presence filled the room like thunder. Every instinct screamed danger.

Samael. The Slayer among Slayers. The guild's blade of retribution. And the man Aiden had never wanted to face.

Behind him followed Arina, her white hair tied back, eyes sharp and unreadable, and Augustus Leonidus, whose noble composure now cracked beneath the tension. Even he—the Viscount whose name shook half the fief—seemed smaller in Samael's presence.

Aiden's breath caught. It was him, His father, MC's father.

The word pressed against his chest but never reached his lips.

Samael's gaze swept the room, settling on Aiden like a sword tip. "So. This is the boy who lives."

No one moved.

Aiden wanted to look away but couldn't. Those eyes—cold iron and shadow—saw too much. They always had.

"I see the reports were true," Samael continued, stepping closer. "You faced the abomination."

"Yes." Aiden's voice was steady, though his pulse wasn't. "His name...being Aros."

"Aros…" Samael repeated the name slowly, tasting it like venom. "If I remember correctly, The half-dragon. The exile. I thought his line was long dead."

"Apparently not," Arina said, her tone clipped. "And now he's in our world."

Augustus clenched his fists. "And my fief is in ruins because of it."

Samael ignored the duke entirely, eyes never leaving his son. "...You made a pact with him, didn't you..."he simply voiced.

Arina took a step back, do as Augustus. The room shimmered with silence for a few seconds. As Arina looked at Aiden, shaking her head, telling him, she didn't say anything. Nothing, it should have been a secret.

".... Answer me, Boy."

Aiden swallowed. "...Yes."

For a long time, no one spoke. The only sound was the whisper of the wind through the cracked window and the faint hiss of Amber's unfinished healing spell.

Samael finally turned his head slightly. "Arina."

"Yes, Commander."

"Report."

She stepped forward, her voice calm but distant. "We've sealed the outer perimeter. The guild's wards are being recalibrated. Aros's mana trail ends somewhere near the lower forests, but it's erratic—like he's shifting realms."

"Which means he's not done," Samael muttered. He faced Aiden again. "And you, boy—you're his beacon for now, the reason he was able to get out of the dungeon"

Aiden frowned. "What... do you mean?"

"You're bound to him," Samael said, as though explaining a simple truth. "Whether through magic or blood, he marked you. That's why he can find you anywhere, he will find you anywhere..."

Amber flinched at that, and Aiden's stomach tightened. He remembered the first encounter—the claws digging into his neck, the breath of ash, the mark that seared into his skin like molten silver. It had faded with time, but never disappeared.

Akinda whispered, "So he's… hunting him?"

Samael's expression didn't change. "Not just hunting. Testing. When a dragon marks prey, it's not for food—it's for foreplay..."

Aiden's pulse thudded in his ears. "Foreplay?"

"You don't understand the creature you dealt with," Samael said. "Aros isn't merely a monster. He's the last scion of the Drakhal—the first hybrids created before the war tore the realms apart. If he's fully awake now, something deeper is stirring."

Arina folded her arms. "The dungeons are.... awakening."

"Yes....," Samael said. "We can't keep it a secret no longer..."

The words dropped like stones in water, rippling through every heart in the room.

Amber's healing light flickered out completely. "So… what happens now? What happens to Aid...Sir Aiden."

Samael looked toward the window, where lightning forked across the clouds. "Now, we prepare...."

The silence that followed was unbearable.

Augustus finally spoke, his voice thick with restrained fury. "You mean to tell me a creature of that magnitude roams free on my lands, and all you say is prepare? Do you have any idea what that thing did to my people?"

Samael's tone didn't waver. "Contain your outrage, Viscount. It doesn't serve anyone."

Augustus stepped forward. "You dare—!"

Arina's hand moved subtly, intercepting his anger before it became something dangerous. "Enough. This isn't the time."

Aiden watched it all, numb and silent. The world felt unreal, like a dream trapped between breaths. He thought of Catherine again—of her fury, her strength, the dragonblood that burned in her veins. If anyone could stand against Aros, it would be her. But where was she? Did she really want after the abomination.

He closed his eyes, and for a fleeting moment, he felt something—a pulse far away, like two heartbeats echoing across a canyon. Fire. Wings. A roar swallowed by the storm.

Catherine.

Amber placed a hand on Aiden's. "You're shaking."

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

He looked at her then, the golden shimmer in her eyes reflecting the candlelight. "If he's marked me, then he'll come again."

Amber's voice trembled. "Then we'll be ready."

He smiled faintly. "We?"

Her grip tightened. "You're not facing this alone, Sir Aiden. Not again."

Akinda looked away, pretending to adjust her satchel, but her jaw was set.

Samael's voice broke the quiet. "You'll rest tonight. Tomorrow, you come with me."

Aiden frowned. "...Where?"

"To the guild citadel. You'll undergo a sealing. If we can contain the bond, perhaps we can mask your presence from this abomination."

"And if you can't?"

Samael's eyes darkened. "Then you die..."

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