And hope, which had been a whisper, spoke in voices.
The villagers wept openly. Some dropped to their knees in the soot-scorched mud, others clutched their children tighter, trembling at the realization that they had survived. The air no longer crackled with the stench of corrupted fire; it was filled instead with the wavering hum of prayers, gratitude, and disbelief.
Andy stood in the center of it all, his chest heaving, though his grip on the hilt of the Draconic Oathblade never wavered. Its crimson edge still glowed faintly with the residue of dragon flame, water mist, and cutting wind—a testament to the battle that had just been won.
Nia's staff dimmed into its resting glow, silver crystal breathing soft light like a heartbeat. She lowered it slowly, auburn hair clinging to her cheeks with sweat, but her sapphire eyes were steady, locked on Andy. A smile tugged her lips, a mixture of relief and pride.
Aurelia moved to Andy's side, her dagger still glistening with traces of black ichor that hissed as it evaporated in the light. She tilted her chin, voice teasing but edged with truth. "You really are insufferable, you know that? Winning battles like this and making the rest of us fall harder for you."
Her words earned a weak laugh from villagers near enough to hear. But Andy only exhaled, the weight of her teasing softening the roar of adrenaline still inside his veins. He glanced from Aurelia's playful smirk to Nia's steady, loving gaze, and in that triangle of emotions, he felt something anchoring him more than any blade could.
Then it came.
A faint tremor in his palm. The Oathblade vibrated, not in anger, but as though breathing—alive. Heat, wind, and water shimmered around the edges of the steel, then withdrew into silence. Andy's eyes flickered, and only he saw it:
---
[System Notification]
[Chapter Resolution Logged]
[Constellation: Orion — Tier I (Complete)]
[Bond Status Update → Nia ⭐ 60% | Aurelia ⭐ 55%]
[Loot Secured → Corrupted Core Fragment ×1]
[Passive Active → Corrupter's Bane I (+15% Damage vs Corrupted)]
Andy inhaled sharply. The text dissolved before him, unseen by the others, as had become the new reality of the Constellation System. Nia and Aurelia did not notice, though instinctively both women leaned closer, as if they had felt some echo through their bond with him.
Nia brushed her fingers lightly across his wrist, whispering low, "It's over… for now."
Aurelia leaned to his shoulder, voice lower, huskier. "Then don't ever let go of that blade, Andy. Because the world will keep trying to take you away from us."
He chuckled softly, though it sounded more like a sigh of release than amusement. "I couldn't, even if I wanted to."
Around them, villagers began to sing—an old melody of the dragon clans, once buried in fear, now resurrected in trembling hope. The sound carried, weaving with the night wind, echoing against the charred remnants of corrupted trees.
Andy lifted the Oathblade, just enough to catch the reflection of the rising moon. For an instant, the light fractured into four colors—flame, tide, gale, ember—and a whisper surged through his veins. Not yet, it seemed to say. But soon.
His chest tightened with a strange anticipation, the sense of a path already unfolding ahead. He lowered the sword, turned toward the camp where villagers were gathering torches, preparing a feast not of luxury, but of survival.
Nia's hand slid into his, warm and unshaken. Aurelia's laughter trailed in as she nudged him forward. Together, the three of them stepped into the glow of grateful faces, carrying the quiet storm of power that none but Andy truly understood.
And as the night deepened, hope no longer whispered—it sang.
---