Mordred had isolated himself somewhat apart from the rest of the group, his hard face dimly lit by the pale light of mana orbs floating gently in the cave. He felt each beat of his heart like a painful reminder of the choices he was about to make. His thoughts, heavy and tortuous, were interrupted when he sensed a presence approaching.

He gently raised his head. Livia stood a few steps away, silent, almost hesitant.

- "May I?" she asked in a low voice, a slight shy smile on her lips.

He nodded gently, indicating for her to approach. She came to position herself near him, leaning slightly against the same cold stone column. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The silence was comfortable, familiar, but charged with an underlying tension.

It was Mordred who finally broke this calm, his voice deep, soft but tinged with painful determination.

- "I've made my decision, Livia. I can't wait any longer."

She turned her head slightly toward him, her clear eyes settling on his face, trying to understand what he was implying.

- "What decision?"

He paused, searching for his words, weighing each phrase as if he wanted to avoid hurting her further.

- "I'm going to have to leave. Alone."

She frowned slightly, growing concern immediately veiling her gaze.

- "Alone? But... why alone?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. "We're here, Mordred. We're together. If you go alone, you're just going to get yourself killed."

He looked away slightly, unable to immediately meet her gaze.

- "That's exactly why I have to go alone. No one here is ready for this. I can't ask you to take these risks. If I drag you with me... it will be a massacre. I don't want that on my conscience."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he gently raised a hand, delicately stopping her.

- "Listen to me. I've spent entire nights thinking about this. I have no doubt about what I must do. I can't go back, and I can't involve others. I have to do this alone. I have to bear this weight alone."

She gently shook her head, her gaze pleading.

- "Mordred, please... think about it a little more. I don't want to lose you. I don't want... to see you die up there, without anyone being able to do anything about it."

Her shoulders trembled slightly, her voice breaking on the last words. Mordred felt his own throat tighten painfully. Seeing Livia like this was more difficult than he had imagined.

He took a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes, then reopened them, plunging directly into those of the young woman.

- "I'm sorry, Livia. But my decision is made. I can't go back on it."

She exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging as if she was finally giving up. Mordred felt a sharp pang of guilt pierce his heart seeing her thus defeated, tired, almost broken by his words.

But after a brief hesitation, Livia moved closer to him. She slowly raised her hands, placing them delicately on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under the thin fabric. She raised her eyes to his, intensely meeting his gaze.

- "Then... promise me at least one thing, Mordred. If you leave... promise me you'll come back. Alive."

Mordred remained silent for a moment, unable to answer immediately. He saw in her eyes all the worry she felt, all the sincerity and fragile hope she had placed in him.

He would have wanted to be honest. Tell her that nothing was certain. That his survival was absolutely not guaranteed. But seeing her gaze, he was unable to tell her the truth. So, he chose to lie to her.

-"I promise you, Livia. I'll come back."

The young woman's shoulders seemed to relax slightly, a sweet relief briefly lighting up her face.

- "Close your eyes," she whispered softly.

He obeyed without hesitation, his eyelids closing slowly, giving way to darkness. He felt Livia's warm breath approaching slowly, followed by an infinitesimal hesitation. Then her soft lips landed delicately against his, a light contact at first, then slightly firmer, transmitting all the warmth, all the tenderness she felt.

For those three precious seconds, Mordred felt everything stop around them. Time seemed to slow down, each beat of his heart becoming almost deafening. The softness of this kiss, the slight pressure of her lips, her delicate perfume, the subtle and slightly salty taste of her skin... everything was deeply engraved in his memory, like a silent promise of life, or perhaps a painful goodbye.

When Livia finally pulled back, he slowly reopened his eyes. Their gazes remained linked for another moment. She smiled softly, a discreet sadness shining in the depths of her eyes.

- "Now you know," she murmured, slowly backing away. "There will be someone here, who will wait for you to return."

She slowly moved away, disappearing into the shadow of the cave.

Mordred remained there, motionless, still feeling the warm ghost of her lips on his. His chest was painfully tight with a feeling he hadn't experienced in a very long time. He slowly raised a hand to his own face, gently brushing his lips with his fingertips.

"To return... he thought bitterly. That's a promise I should never have made to her."

He raised his eyes to the darkness of the cave, his heart heavy. He knew he probably wouldn't be able to keep this promise.

A few minutes after Livia had moved away, Mordred took a deep breath to gather his thoughts. He still felt the discrete taste of her lips, the subtle warmth of her kiss, but he knew that if he lingered any longer, he would end up doubting. And he no longer had that luxury.

He slowly advanced toward the center of the cave, where the group had gradually gathered. The murmurs fell silent when he appeared in the halo of the mana spheres. All faces turned toward him: young ones, older ones, men and women. Some marked by fear, others still bearing the scars of draconic torture. But they all had something in common: the same look of people seeking direction, a leader, a reason to hope.

He felt their attention weigh heavily on his shoulders, an immense responsibility that threatened to overwhelm him. But Mordred didn't waver. He remained straight, calm, his voice low but determined when he finally spoke.

- "I know these past days have been difficult. We're safe here for now, but this safety is only temporary. We all know that."

A few approving murmurs ran through the assembly.

- "So I've made a decision. A difficult decision, but necessary. I'm going to leave the hideout temporarily. I'm going to go back to the surface, alone. I'm going to undertake an operation to try to end this war once and for all."

He paused, letting his gaze slowly scan each face, capturing each emotion.

- "I'm going to try to eliminate the dragon king, Maelor."

A heavy silence immediately fell over the group. Eyes widened. Expressions of surprise, then concern multiplied rapidly among the former slaves.

- "It's risky, I know," he continued. "Maybe even suicidal. But I sincerely think it's our only real chance. As long as Maelor lives, none of us will ever know peace or freedom."

An older man slowly stood up, his hands trembling slightly as he dared to ask in a hesitant voice:

- "And us? What should we do during this time? Stay here, wait without doing anything?"

Mordred answered in a firm, reassuring voice:

- "I'm not abandoning you. I'll come back regularly to bring you provisions, drinking water, medicine. Everything you'll need to hold on. But you'll have to stay discreet. Avoid any contact with the surface. As long as I haven't finished what I have to do, staying hidden will be your only chance of survival."

A woman, holding a child in her arms, stood up in turn. Her shining eyes fixed on Mordred with an emotion mixed with fear and respect:

- "But how will we know... if you succeed? How will we know if we should continue waiting?"

Mordred hesitated briefly. He understood their concern, their desperation to have something to hold onto.

- "You'll know. Believe me, if I succeed, everyone will know. You won't need to hide anymore. And if I fail..."

He looked away slightly, then resumed courageously:

- "Then you'll have to survive without me. But never lose hope. There will always be another opportunity, another fight. Humanity is strong, it has always resisted. It will resist again."

A silence settled, charged with an emotion difficult to express. Then a voice rose softly from the back of the group. It was that of a young boy, barely an adolescent:

- "We'll pray for you, Mordred. For your success. For all of us. For all of humanity."

Mordred felt a painful tightening in his heart, an unexpected warmth rising to his throat. Around him, other voices joined that of the boy, repeating these same words, like a promise, a blessing:

- "We'll pray for you..."

He slowly nodded, deeply recognizing the immense weight of these words. For them, he had become much more than a solitary warrior, more than a simple fighter. He had become their symbol, their living hope, their last chance.

He finally looked away, knowing he had to leave before his emotion became too visible.

- "Stay together, take care of each other," he finally murmured. "I'll come back."

He slowly turned around and began to move away toward the cave exit, feeling the weight of all those gazes on his back, all those hopes placed in him, all those lives that now depended on his actions.

In the shadow, just before he completely disappeared into the narrow corridor leading to the surface, he briefly turned his head back and met Livia's gaze. She had stayed in the background, silent, but her eyes spoke for her. A silent fear, but also absolute confidence.

He stared at her one last time, then looked away and disappeared into the darkness.