Even after three failed attempts, Zack refused to give up. Each time, he was narrowly saved by Lancelot's swift reflexes—his stubborn will to fight kept him going, but without his dragon, he'd have already been crushed.
Fortunately, the grey dragon had locked onto Lancelot as its primary target. Every feral strike, every deafening roar, was aimed at the silver dragon knight. Because of that, much of the city remained intact—for now.
But even dragons have limits.
Zack could feel it. Lancelot's flight was beginning to stagger, its aerial grace dulled. The powerful beast that had soared like lightning now struggled to maintain altitude. The air around them crackled with tension.
"Lancelot is at its limit…" Silva's voice was tight with urgency, her breath uneven as she clutched the reins. Sweat glistened along the curve of her neck, her usually composed expression faltering.
Zack clenched his fists, his voice unwavering. "I understand. This time—it's do or die."
With a firm nod, Silva guided Lancelot into a steep descent. The dragon responded with a roar, folding its wings tight as they dived toward the center of the square.
But just as they dropped—
"No… No, it can't be…" Zack's eyes widened in horror as he caught a glimpse of Ico being engulfed.
The grey dragon's grotesque belly split open like a carnivorous blossom, revealing rows of jagged, fleshy teeth. Writhing tentacles lashed out, wrapping around Ico's delicate frame. She screamed. And then—she was swallowed whole.
"Ico!!" Zack's cry tore from his throat, raw with helplessness. The image of her vanishing into that monstrous maw seared itself into his mind.
He had failed her. Again.
"Damn it…! It's my fault. I'm too weak…" His hands trembled as despair clawed at his chest, threatening to drag him into a pit of self-loathing. But before the weight of hopelessness could crush him—
"Don't you dare give up!"
Silva's voice rang out like a blade of steel, sharp and unforgiving. Her body pressed against his back as she leaned forward, her tone laced with fury. If her hands hadn't been gripping the reins, she might have slapped him across the face right then and there—just like he'd once done to her.
"She may still be alive! If you quit now, then yes—she'll die for sure!"
Zack's breath hitched. Her words cut through the fog of fear clouding his mind. Then—he felt it. A sudden pulse from his left arm.
The fang scar. It seared with a deep, familiar ache—just like the time Ico had been kidnapped by Clarisse. It wasn't pain; it was connection.
"Ico…" His eyes widened as the realization hit him. The link wasn't broken. He could still feel her. "She's alive…!"
He looked at Silva, fire returning to his gaze. "Princess-sama! Get me to that monster. Now!"
A faint smirk played at the corner of her lips. "That's more like it."
Without hesitation, she spurred Lancelot forward. The dragon gave a mighty cry and plunged through the sky once more—toward the hellish maw that had swallowed Ico.
.˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
"Ugh! Come on already—why can't I get this right?!"
Ico's voice echoed through the void, laced with frustration and desperation.
She was kneeling on the ethereal floor of the Dragweiss, her shoulders trembling, her fingers clawing the ground. A storm of shimmering magic whirled around her, unstable and incomplete. Her usually vibrant eyes were clouded, filled with self-doubt.
The enemy Zack was facing in the real world was a Necromancia—a grotesque manifestation of darkness, corrupted magic, and death.
Its element was pure shadow.
Naturally, to counter it, the Ark she needed to forge for Zack should be of the light element—an ancient truth passed down since the age of dragons. Light defeats darkness. Always. But it just wouldn't come together.
"Damn it…! Of course this is impossible…"
Her words were faint as she slumped forward, sitting back on her knees in defeat. Her breath was ragged. Tear trails glittered on her flushed cheeks, the first time she'd cried not from pain, not from fear—but from pure regret.
Ico, the proud dragon girl, had never known this feeling.
And then… she heard his voice. Zack.
"Don't give up!" The words didn't reach her ears—they resonated through her soul. They came through the Astral Flow, the invisible tether that bound dragon and breeder, pulsing with his will, his emotion, his love.
"Is that… him?"
She looked up, her heart pounding.
Zack was still fighting.
He stood tall against that monstrous, snarling beast, even as his body was beaten and bloodied. His shirt hung in tatters, revealing lines of muscle, bruises, and fresh cuts across his chest. Sweat traced along his skin, making it glisten beneath the broken light of the battlefield.
And even though the odds were crushing, he never stopped calling out to her.
"I'll save you! I know you're still alive! So please—Ico, don't give up!" The warmth in his voice, the fire in his heart—it reached her.
A heat bloomed inside her chest, slowly spreading, melting her fear and shame. It was a warmth she had known since the beginning, when she was nothing but a soul curled deep within Zack's body as an Orphan.
His heartbeat had always been her lullaby. His courage had always been her fire. Even when everything was stacked against him, Zack never ran. He faced the monster again and again—climbing its head, slashing through its claws, getting thrown, bleeding, rising again.
And through it all, his emerald eyes never stopped shining.
"…He's unbelievable." Ico clenched her fists, trembling—not from fear, but fury. "Unforgivable!"
How dare she sit still while he risked everything? That wasn't who she was.
"That's right… this is unforgivable! Which is why…!"
Suddenly, her body surged with magic. It spilled from her skin, a brilliant, glowing torrent of power—lustrous and wild. It wrapped around her like a lover's embrace, curling along her curves, kissing her thighs, lifting strands of her pink hair with sparkling force.
The magic crystallized on her bare skin like beads of dew. Her soft breasts were exposed, nipples flushed and peeking out as energy pooled between them. Her breath hitched as her body trembled from the intensity of it all. She was rebirth.
"This… This is my magic…!" Her vision expanded. The infinite blueprints of the Dragweiss unfolded like a sea of constellations. And for the first time—"I can see it."
Her lips parted in a radiant smile. She was no longer afraid.
"Almett, Groval, Petro… Eswodar…"
Piece by piece, she chanted the names of the Ark components. The words came naturally, her voice filled with sensual power as the glowing armor forged itself in the aether.
"Lagroneras, Felgauge… Fableinn…"
She focused only on what would resonate with Zack—armor of light, forged for him, guided by her will. Her fingertips danced with energy, carving through blueprint after blueprint.
"Kucetas, Hommerus, Braziles… Koddazes… Antebrazos… Manoplas…" Compared to others who created their Arks from scraps, her actions could be called heretical. But she didn't care. She wasn't going to stand by and be a passive observer—not when he was out there risking his life. Not when he believed in her.
"Quixotes… Guardas… Grebas… Escarpes…" With every piece, her body pulsed with pleasure and power. The magic caressed her like Zack's hands in a dream she'd never dared to voice. Her cheeks flushed deeper, her breath heavier.
She was creating something beautiful—something divine—because she loved him.
Finally, she reached for the final piece.
Her hand lifted, eyes burning with resolve.
"Espalón!" The moment the word escaped her lips, the Dragweiss exploded in a kaleidoscope of light. A gate opened—one that leads to a brand new world.