I glanced around the tent for what felt like the hundredth time, the air pressing heavy against my skin. Luca was nowhere in sight. My fingers idly stroked the baby dragon's soft hair as I listened for footsteps outside. The child's warmth in my arms was steady, grounding—but not enough to silence the unease twisting in my gut.

The flap rustled. Luca stepped in, the faint night chill clinging to him. His expression was set, but I could see the urgency in his movements.

"What happened?" My voice came out clipped, sharper than intended.

"The Devil Cultists have attacked," he said quickly. "Stay safe, and keep her safe as well. I'll go to the battlefield."

Already turning to leave.

No. Not without me.

I caught his wrist before he could take another step, my grip firm despite the warmth of his skin seeping into mine. I met his eyes, letting him see the steel behind my calm. "I will come as well."

His answer came instantly. "No. You don't have any powers now."

The words hit harder than they should have. If only I had my power back… if only I could stand beside him without being a burden. My jaw tightened. "But I have my Vermillion Phoenix—"

"That should be our last resort," he interrupted. "You have to protect her. Don't worry—I'll be back as soon as I can. Then we'll figure out a way to leave."

I hated the truth in his words. Hated standing still while everyone is in danger. But for her sake… I forced myself to loosen my hold, though my teeth pressed together until it hurt. "…Fine. But be safe. And return back to me." I gave the order.

He nodded once, his gaze dropping to the small bundle in my arms. She peered up at him with those impossibly ancient eyes, as if seeing more than either of us could. He reached out and ruffled her hair gently—a silent promise.

"Don't worry, I will protect our daughter well," I told him, letting a faint, reassuring smile soften my expression.

I watched him go, my face still and regal, but my mind was already marking the moment of his return as something that must happen.

Time crawled, each heartbeat sounding louder than the last. I sat on the edge of the cot, back straight, my fingers absently smoothing the baby dragon's hair. Her little claws clung to my robe, and though her breathing was soft, her wide eyes betrayed the fear she felt.

"Mama… papa?" she murmured, voice small and uncertain.

"He will be back. Don't worry." My tone was steady, clipped—meant to reassure by command alone. But the words rang hollow in my own chest. She still trembled, and my grip on her tightened, protective, unyielding.

If only I could keep her in my beast space…

A deep, resonant voice coiled through my mind. You can, if you want. It should be possible.

I straightened, brows arching. "Phoenix. How?"

You are her mother. Your energy mark rests on her already. She belongs with you. That bond will grant her passage.

My lips curved in faint approval. "Very well."

I shifted my posture, closing my eyes, and let the power of my aura coil inward, wrapping around her small form. She blinked up at me once before dissolving into shimmering light—gone from my arms, safe within the sanctuary of the beast space.

For the first time that morning, my shoulders eased.

Then—

A shudder in the ground. The unmistakable echo of chaos. My head snapped toward the tent's entrance.

I pushed the flap aside—and my breath chilled. Cultists. Here. Inside the camp.

For a fraction of a second, my mind stilled. Did we lose the war already? Impossible.

But the thought that broke through, unwanted and sharper than the rest was—Is he unharmed? He must be.

Below, a group of them swarmed toward unarmed civilians.

My jaw clenched, and my spine straightened into the posture of a sovereign about to pass judgment.

"Hmph. With this Empress here," I muttered, voice cold as steel, "you will harm no one."

With a sharp flick of my wrist, I summoned the Vermillion Phoenix. Flames tore into the sky, her wings unfurling in a blaze of gold and crimson. The heat kissed my face, setting the loose strands of my hair dancing.

We moved as one—her firestorm roaring ahead, my blade following with surgical precision. Each cultist fell beneath the storm of steel and flame, their screams drowned in the crackle of the phoenix's burning wings.

And for every strike I delivered, my mind whispered the same silent vow: Stay alive, Luca.

Above the battlefield's chaos, the Vermillion Phoenix carried me through the smoke, her wings cleaving arcs of molten light that scorched the enemy below. The stench of burning cloth and flesh rose with every beat of her wings. I stood firm atop her back, the wind tearing through my hair, my gaze scanning the devastation.

And then—I saw him.

Luca. Bloodied, breathing hard, but alive. My chest loosened, though I kept my posture unyielding. Good. He made it. Now stay that way. His eyes flicked upward, meeting mine, and for a heartbeat the noise of the battlefield dulled.

"Are you okay?" we asked in unison, the words almost absurd amidst the carnage.

He told me he had feared for both of us, and asked after the baby dragon. "She's in my beast space," I replied. "Safe." His nod was small, but the relief in it was unmistakable.

Then—

A scream. Sharp, ragged, close enough that my phoenix's head snapped toward it. I urged her forward without hesitation.

We came upon another cluster of survivors hemmed in by cultists. Luca's voice cut through the wind: "Conserve the phoenix's strength. These are still small fry. I can handle them."

He leapt from the phoenix's back, sabers flashing silver arcs through the smoke. I watched from above as he carved the enemy down, every strike quick and clean. We moved in tandem—my flames clearing the skies, his blades clearing the ground—pulling the weak from danger, pushing the line forward.

It almost felt like progress. Almost.

A heavy thud shattered that illusion. My eyes cut to the source just as Rolph's body slammed into the dirt. Dust swirled, and through it came a mocking voice thick with arrogance—Santos, drunk on power.

The air shifted when Rolph rose. His aura flared, a blinding silver-gold halo that cracked the earth beneath him. I recognized the stance immediately—sabers crossed, breath held still.

Moonlight—Sever.

The arc of light tore across the battlefield, so bright I could feel its heat from here. The strike ripped through Santos and the ground alike. The stench of burnt flesh reached even this high.

Luca's voice broke through the roar. "Isn't that Moonslayer?"

Of course it was. My lips pressed together. Moonslayer belongs to the royal family—a blade of heritage, its true power unlocked only through Spatial Expansion. I knew because even I, with all my strength before my fall, had not wielded it until then. That's why I was so sure Luca could not yet touch that power.

The thought shattered as my phoenix lurched beneath me. A shadow slammed into her side with crushing force. The ground rushed up; I was thrown clear. The impact stole my breath, and I tasted iron. Blood bloomed across my robes, warm and heavy.

Through the haze, I felt his hands on me—Luca, pulling me upright, his face tight with alarm. My gaze darted past him to the figure emerging from the dust.

The voice was a jagged knife in my ear. "Jijijijijijiiieee… you're being a nuisance, brat."

Luca rose, trembling but resolute, sabers clenched. I saw him lunge—

—and then space itself warped.

The blow hit him like the fist of a god. He was hurled back, crashing through canvas and splintered wood. Blood sprayed from his lips.

My heart constricted, sharper than any blade.

Spatial Expansion…

Are we going to die here? Because of me? Why don't I have my powers, otherwise these bastards don't even have the worth to stand before me.

"Jijisjijsi… such a beautiful woman…"

My spine straightened, shoulders squaring, I grabbed a nearby rod tightening until her knuckles whitened.

"You devil bastard—don't even think of coming towards me."

This bastard…I will commit suicide and explode himself with me, just as I was preparing for it my phoenix lunged at it fighting with all its strength.

Luca approached me asking if there was any way, but unfortunately there wasn't , as he asked me to run away, but I couldn't and I won't leave him no matter what. As for the baby dragon, I will ask my phoenix to take it away and run. He replied angrily, for the 1st time I saw such expression on his face, but ... .it didn't actually make me angry, but it felt warm instead.

I sat there as I saw him getting beaten up by the cultist bastard, blood flowed from his body like a river, but he didn't falter as if he had something more important than his life to protect.

But…..he stopped attacking or dodging? What, why would he do that? Has he given up? No he wouldn't do that, I believe in him. But ... .if he doesn't react after some more time, I will ask my phoenix to take the baby dragon and him away, and I will explode myself to let them get away.

Some time passed and just as I was about to order the phoenix Luca opened his eyes and distanced himself from the cultist, and ..a smile, why is he smiling, as my eyes widened as I witnessed something impossible, a familiar form , and attack as a brilliant slash cut down the cultists.

My lips muttered by themselves, "H-How… is this possible?"

But before the surprise and the happiness could settle in, "Jijijijijjijiji… ahahahahhahaha… look at that. Isn't it something Rolph uses?"