Some time later.

Kael drifted upward from a deep, heavy sleep, awareness returning like embers stirring beneath ash.

The first thing he felt was warmth—not the consuming heat of his own flames, but something gentler. Steady. Reassuring.

When his eyes opened, the first thing he saw was her face.

It was Eiravel, looking down at him with the same calm smile, sunlight, and leaves woven into her hair. Her eyes were vast and kind, like an endless forest after rain.

For a moment, Kael merely lay there, head resting on her lap, listening to a rhythm he hadn't realized he'd missed—peace.

Then, when he finally spoke, his eyes sharpened a bit.

"…Where are the others?" He asked quietly.

His voice was hoarse but steady.

Eiravel blinked, then smiled a little wider. "That is the first thing you ask after breaking yourself so thoroughly?"

Kael exhaled through his nose. "I asked you to bring them here. Somewhere safe." His gaze sharpened more. "Did you do it?"

"They are safe," Eiravel said gently. "All of them. Your people remain in the clearing under the protection of my children. Three of them—Evethra, Alenia, and Darian—came before others."

Kael's brow creased. "Came before others?"

"They were here to confirm," she replied. "They wished to know whether you were truly here… or if they were being led into a trap."

A short, breathy chuckle escaped him.

"…Figures," Kael muttered. "Everything that's come from the sky so far has tried to kill us."

Eiravel studied him for a moment. "You are not offended?"

"No," he said honestly. "I'd have done the same."

Silence lingered between them, comfortable and unhurried.

Then Kael spoke again. "So, I don't think they believed you easily."

In response to his words, she stared at him.

Not offended. Not amused.

Just… stared.

Kael held her gaze for half a second—then sighed. "Right. Stupid question."

Eiravel's expression softened, though the corner of her lips twitched. "You relaxed in my presence. Lowered every guard. Even in your sleep, you did not resist me."

She brushed her fingers through his hair once more. "How could they, who are much weaker than you, be any different?"

"…Fair," Kael conceded.

He shifted slightly. "How are they? What are they doing now?"

Eiravel sighed—an ancient, patient sound. "They are unharmed. Provided for. No one will touch them."

Her gaze drifted, distant. "But they are not welcomed by all of my children."

Kael's eyes narrowed slightly.

"This is the Mystic Domain," she continued. "My children do not kill one another. They do not scheme or betray. But outsiders…" She shook her head. "Resentment remains. I do not rewrite hearts, Kael. I only guide them. So, although no one would harm your people, they wouldn't mingle either."

Listening to her words, Kael was quiet for a moment.

Then he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's fine."

Eiravel looked at him again.

"They've lived hunted, isolated, and alone since the beginning," Kael said calmly. "As long as no one disturbs them, they'll manage. They don't need acceptance to survive."

Silence returned.

Then Kael pushed himself up, stretching his arms slowly.

"…Feels like my body's done healing," he muttered, talking about his real body as he could feel it here.

Eiravel nodded. "It has. You can wake up any time you want."

He glanced at her. "Good."

Silence again, and this time, Eiravel broke it.

"So, shall we begin our talk?"

"Hmm," Kael hummed thoughtfully in response. "Not yet. I need to see if my people are really safe first. Then I'll come back."

One of Eiravel's brows lifted. "You doubt my word?"

Kael shrugged lightly. "I don't know. But don't take it personally. I just… don't trust the world."

That earned him a quiet laugh. "Alright. Do as you wish."

With that, Kael closed his eyes.

When he opened them again—

Green.

Everywhere.

He stood within a vast hollow of living wood, roots and glowing tendrils wrapped around his colossal black dragon form, mana flowing into him like veins feeding a heart.

"…Right," he muttered. "That explains the comfort."

With a ripple of power, scales folded inward, wings dissolved, and Kael returned to his human form, boots touching living wood. He looked around, surrounded by pulsing emerald light.

"So I'm inside her," he said dryly. "That sounds weird, no matter how I phrase it."

Before he could look at anything else, light gathered before him.

Eiravel's human form materialized once more—calm, radiant, unreal.

"You shouldn't stare at a lady's insides too much," she muttered, pretending to be shy, making Kael deadpan.

And seeing his expression, she giggled. "Yes, you are within my trunk."

"Hm, thought so."

Then, looking for a way out, he turned toward her. "So? How do I get out?"

She smiled and gestured.

The wood parted just enough for Kael to step out, evening light filling the inside of the trunk.

Kael stepped forward—and saw the same endless field, the same solitary tree, the same peace Evethra, Alenia, and Darian had glimpsed before.

The scenery was the second most beautiful thing he had seen—ranked right after the image of untouched space from his dream—but his expression remained calm.

Instead, his eyes, which seemed relaxed until now, were now bright with seriousness again.

Because he knew that rest was temporary for him.

...............

Meanwhile, just outside the elven city.

By the time the last group of demihumans had all gathered here, the elven sky had already begun to shift.

The clearing lay just beyond the outer bounds of the elven city—wide, fertile, and ringed by towering trees whose canopies glowed faintly with bioluminescent veins.

Soft light filtered down like falling starlight, illuminating a sight that would have been impossible anywhere else.

More than three thousand demihumans.

Families. Warriors. Children. The elders. The tired.

They spread through the clearing in cautious waves, disbelief still clinging to them like a second skin.

This place felt… unreal. Too calm. Too gentle. As though the world itself had decided, for once, not to bite.

There was no space for them within the city proper—no streets wide enough, no halls prepared for such an influx—but no one complained. Not when the earth itself seemed eager to shelter them.

Roots lifted and bent into natural walls.

Broad leaves hardened into makeshift roofs.

Thick vines twisted together into frames for shelters. Fallen trunks hollowed themselves, reshaping into communal spaces.

And everywhere—

Magic circles bloomed.

And the ones who made those magic circles were the few elves, who, unlike others who had been looking at them with hostility, decided to help them.

These few elves reminded the demihumans how not all elves were that narrow-minded.

Right now, those Elves traced sigils in the air with fluid motions, glowing rings forming beneath their feet or hovering midair as they worked. Circles layered atop circles—complex, precise, beautiful.

Fire without heat hardened wood.

Wind without force dried shelters.

Earth without weight reshaped the ground.

Gasps echoed constantly.

"I've never seen magic like that…"

"What is that they are conjuring? Magic circle…?"

"They draw it, not force it…"

To them all, it was new, because even Kael—who they knew to be the best mage because he bent the world through sheer will—had never used magic circles.

So, the people watched with wide eyes, fascination momentarily overpowering exhaustion.

Among the elves working alongside them stood two figures who never truly blended into the background.

The same male and female elves who had descended through the sky before and the ones who had brought them here.

They did not labor. They watched.

Standing at the edges of the clearing, their presences were subtle—but undeniable. The grass never dared touch their boots. Mana curved instinctively around them.

Protectors.

Observers.

And thinkers.

The male elf's gaze lingered on the demihumans far longer than necessary.

"None of them knows formal circle theory," he murmured.

The female nodded slowly. "Yet many possess raw output that rivals our trained adepts."

Her eyes flicked toward Alenia—who, despite exhaustion, was actively questioning an elven mage about layered formations, sketching symbols with startling speed.

"…They grew strong without foundations," the male said quietly. "That should not be possible."

"And yet," the female replied, "they followed a dragon."

That explained much—and nothing at all.

It was then that it happened without warning.

No tremor. No roar.

Just a shift.

The mana of the clearing stirred—as if the land itself had inhaled sharply.

Then someone shouted.

"He's—!"

Every head turned.

From between the glowing trees, a lone figure walked forward—boots crunching softly against living grass.

Black coat. Black hair.

Golden eyes.

For half a heartbeat, the world froze.

Then—

"LORD KAAEEL—!"

The clearing erupted.

Cheers broke out like a storm. Cries. Laughter. Tears. People fell to their knees. Children ran forward before their parents could stop them. Warriors slammed fists to their chests.

He was alive.

He was whole.

He was here.

Kael barely had time to react before he was surrounded.

Lyra reached him first, hands gripping his sleeves as if afraid he'd vanish. "You're fine…?" She asked, her voice trembling despite herself.

Evethra was already scanning him head to toe, crimson eyes sharp with barely restrained emotion. "Are there still any injuries? Any lingering pain? If you want to rest—"

"I'm fine," Kael said quickly, a small smile forming. "I promise."

Alenia let out a breath she'd been holding for what felt like days.

"You have no idea how many theoretical disasters I imagined," she muttered.

Druvarn lumbered closer, plush body settling beside Kael with a weighty thump. "Hrm," he grunted—approval thick beneath the sound.

And Darian—

Darian stood before him, eyes shining, hands shaking as he pressed a fist to his chest. "Welcome back, my lord."

Kael's expression softened instantly.

"I told you I'd be back," he said gently.

Behind them, the elves inclined their heads deeply.

Not in courtesy.

In reverence.

Because to them, if the world tree was Mother, then dragons were beings akin to gods.

And right now, they were looking at a dragon who had returned to his people.

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