Everyone thought Roderika had won.
Even the guards—those meant to lead the citizens to safety—were too caught up in their own cheers, celebrating prematurely.
But then... the smoke began to clear.
And silence fell like a curtain.
The joyous roars died as quickly as they had erupted. Some of the guards stood motionless, their mouths agape, their eyes wide with disbelief. The cheers had been silenced—not by awe, but by terror. A gaping hole in the dragon's skull should have been a death sentence. No being should survive such destruction of the brain.
And yet, it still lived.
"What… what in the world is that thing…?"
Zack's voice trembled as he whispered. A cold sweat clung to his back.
The dragon had not fallen. And Ico… she still floated in the air, limp and ensnared by grotesque, writhing tendrils.
A moment later, the monstrous wound on the beast's head began to regenerate.
It was uncanny. The flesh pulsed and knit together as though the wound had a mind of its own—as though the creature's very biology defied the rules of life and death.
Once fully restored, the dragon looked even more terrifying than before. Its eyes burned with a rage beyond comprehension—like twin abysses, staring into the souls of all who watched.
Suddenly, it swung its tail.
Zack flinched at the shockwave it created. This time, it wasn't magic—just raw, crushing force. That alone was enough to demolish the buildings behind it, reducing stone and steel to crumbling dust like fragile toy blocks.
"Damn it…!" Roderika cursed aloud, caught off guard.
Now, all they could do was hope—hope that those inside the destroyed buildings had found a way to escape in time.
"Curses…!"
Zack clenched his fists, teeth grinding in helpless frustration.
He could only watch, powerless, as the dragon continued its rampage.
And in that moment, his thoughts drifted to one man:
—Dazno. The masked stranger.
Since that encounter in the forest, Zack's once-still world had begun to move. He couldn't explain it—he didn't have evidence — but his gut told him this was all connected.
"What is that thing…?" he muttered again.
Just then, a familiar voice broke through the fog of panic.
"Z-Zack?!"
He turned sharply—and saw Silva. The princess had arrived at St. Durkheir Square.
But the moment her eyes met the creature's horrific form, her body gave out. She collapsed to the cobblestones with a gasp, trembling in terror.
Zack rushed to her side.
"Get a hold of yourself! Princess!"
But she didn't respond. Her gaze was distant, unfocused—her breath shallow. The grotesque sight had shattered her composure.
Before he could try again, a majestic figure soared above them—a dragon with silvery-white fur, glinting like moonlight. A Vaestro.
"Zack! Get the Princess out of here, now!" shouted a voice from above.
Zack looked up.
"Matt!"
It was his friend—the student council accountant and one of Zack's few trusted companions.
"Leave this to me—Agh!"
Matt didn't even finish. The grey dragon sensed the new threat instantly and let out a thunderous roar. Without hesitation, it launched a glowing sphere of searing purple energy.
"Dred!"
Matt's dragon, Mordred, reacted immediately to the command and threw up a barrier—a radiant shield of defense magic. But the impact was devastating. Though it dampened the blast, Mordred was hurled downward, crashing into the ground with a bone-shaking thud.
Zack's heart skipped.
"That thing brought down Mordred… in a single blow…"
There was no time for a second defense. Realizing this, Roderika commanded Lainn to dive between the fallen dragon and the beast. Without hesitation, she began chanting a high-level barrier spell.
"Roderika!"
But by doing so, Roderika had become immobilized—vulnerable. They were running out of options. Their only hope now was the Holy Dragonborns of Steinert arriving in time. But would the townspeople survive until then?
This was a city that had grown soft in peace. The security forces had little more than wooden batons and old hunting rifles. Trained Dragonborns were a rarity outside the capitals.
The dragon lumbered toward Roderika, slow and deliberate. It had chosen her as its next target. With each step, the ground quaked. The polished tiles shattered underfoot. It wasn't a beast anymore—it was a mountain in motion.
Tentacles writhed from its back, latching around Ico's body with sinister intent.
"Let go of me! What the hell is this thing trying to do!?"
Ico thrashed wildly, naked and vulnerable in the air. Her delicate form was smeared with ash and dirt, her silvery hair clinging to her sweat-damp skin. Yet even in her weakened state, the fire in her violet eyes didn't fade.
"No matter what… I won't give up…!" Her limbs couldn't move. But her will refused to break.
"Ico…!"
That was it.
Zack's pulse surged. He had to save her. She was more than just his Par.
She was his.
"If it's me… can I do it…?"
A thought flashed through his mind—a dangerous one. But he couldn't shake it. It was a gamble. Then he remembered her, laughing joyfully as she devoured a crepe, powdered sugar dusting her cheeks.
No… not yet. She hasn't even tasted everything this world has to offer…
He clenched his fists.
"I'm not going to let her die here… not like this." Zack stood tall. "I'll protect this city. Everyone. And Ico!"
But one problem remained. He needed Silva's help.
"Princess! Pull yourself together!"
She remained frozen, eyes unfocused, shoulders quivering. Zack felt his patience break.
"You've got to be kidding me! What kind of princess are you!? Where's the spirit of the Steinert bloodline?! In moments like this, isn't that when royalty is supposed to show what they're truly made of!?"
He raised his hand.
"I'm sorry in advance!"
SLAP! The sound rang sharp and clean in the square.
"…Zack?" Her eyes widened in shock as she touched her burning cheek.
But at least now… she was present. Focused.
"Princess, I need you. Summon Lancelot and take me up there—now!"
"Take you? Where!?"
Zack pointed. "To there." To the top of the dragon's skull.
Silva's jaw dropped. "No! Are you insane!? Do you even hear yourself?!"
But she stood up, voice sharp.
Good. This was the Silva he remembered—proud, stubborn, burning like wildfire. He turned and stepped forward, placing himself between her and the dragon. Drawing in a deep breath, he bellowed:
"Your opponent isME!" He didn't even know if the dragon could understand words. But he needed to center himself—to speak those words aloud—to anchor his will.
The beast paused. Its massive head turned. It looked at him—at them. Silva's eyes widened in horror.
"Are you stupid!?"
"I'm fine. Just call Lancelot—"
Before he could finish, a searing beam of light erupted from the dragon's maw. Zack barely dodged—heat scorched the air above his head. He looked back—and saw the three-story building behind him disintegrating.
It had been hit directly. How hot did it have to be to melt stone? Before he could think further, the building collapsed—an avalanche of debris falling toward them like the sky itself had come undone.
"Urgh!"
Without thinking, Zack grabbed Silva and threw himself over her. Eyes shut tight, arms wrapped around her trembling body, he prayed.