When I hit the ground, my lungs seized up. My breath got stuck in my chest—I forgot I even had lungs for a few seconds.
A dragon stood before me.
It was massive. When its foul, rotting breath blew across my face, every reflex in my body screamed: Run! But I couldn't. My feet weren't touching the ground.
Its eyes... were locked on me. In those yellow, vacant eyes, there was no spark. No intelligence. Only a programmed urge to destroy.
And the one who threw me... was still there.
Cassian.
He said nothing. Just watched. He had pushed me. And now he was silently observing. Like someone monitoring the results of an experiment. Emotionless. Distant. Calculating.
You pushed me. And now you watch… you psychopath.
But amid my rage… I stood up. My body trembled, but my knees did not buckle. The dragon lunged forward, and I gathered my magical energy. My palms were burning.
This isn't death. This is a test. And I will not lose.
My first spell was a fireball. As it left my hand, it scorched the air. It grazed the dragon's cheek but didn't drive it back. It only roared and attacked.
Every spell I cast only delayed death by a few more seconds. I dodged, changed direction, refocused my magic but...
A system window flashed:
[Critical Condition: HP 23%]
Suggested: Defensive Spell – Mana Barrier
The dragon's tail whipped around, stones exploded. I couldn't even feel the scrapes. I hit the ground, forgot to breathe—but… I stood again.
And in that moment—
The dragon suddenly flinched. A guttural growl rose from its throat. Its body shook. Then something pierced through its torso.
A sword. Jet black, pulsing with glowing veins. A familiar weapon.
The dragon stopped roaring. Its massive body collapsed as if emptied. Smoke rose from its chest.
Cassian was in front of me.
He sheathed his blood-drenched sword in a single smooth motion. Stood tall, staring directly at me.
His eyes were still empty, but something stirred inside them. Hesitation, maybe. A crack. But it didn't last.
What's happening to you?
Why did you save me?!
You were the one who pushed me!But I didn't say any of that aloud. I just lowered my head. My voice didn't tremble.
"Due to my weakness, I became a burden to Your Majesty… Please forgive me."
The words left my mouth like a reflex. Bowing, submitting, begging for forgiveness. But inside, I was still cursing.
⸻
Footsteps approached.
The knights arrived. Armor clinked, steps fell in rhythm. One of them approached the dragon's head like a triumphant warrior.
But Cassian turned and simply looked at him.
The man stepped back. Froze. Cassian spoke:
"Take this prey to my tent."
It sounded more like a verdict than an order.
The knights moved toward the dragon. But as whispers passed between them, Cassian glanced their way. That glance… like a silent execution.
And from that moment on, no one moved. Because they understood.
Cassian wasn't talking about the dragon.
He meant me.
All the blood drained from my wrists. "Tent" and "me" should never be in the same sentence.
But I didn't object.
Because this didn't just concern me—it affected all mages.
I slowly lowered my head. I obeyed silently.
⸻
As I walked through the crowd, I wasn't sure if my feet were even touching the ground. The camp buzzed with noise. Knights received orders, pieces of the dead dragon were carried away, spectators whispered their thoughts.
But somewhere among them… I felt stillness.
As if a void had opened.
Even without turning, I could feel eyes fixed on me from within that emptiness.
And when I did turn… I saw him.
Lucian.
He still wore his mage robes. Hands clasped behind his back, watching me silently. He hadn't said a word… but everything was in his eyes.
Something inside me cracked. I wanted to defend myself. But all I could manage was to mouth:
"Don't get involved in this."
Only he could hear that. And he did. His eyes narrowed slightly. But he said nothing.
And as I continued walking toward Cassian's tent… it wasn't Lucian's gaze I felt on my back—it was Cassian's shadow.
And that was far more dangerous than any dragon.
⸻
The tent they brought me to… was too much for a mere camp.
Heavy velvet drapes, leather scent masked with perfume, silver-trimmed furnishings, embroidered carpets… If this was just a camp tent, what must his palace chambers look like?
I swallowed.
They told me to wait, but… I couldn't stop thinking.
Just now… I was thrown in front of a dragon.
And I survived.
How was that even possible?
Cassian.
First, he pushed me. Then he saved me.
What kind of game was this?
I had maxed out romance and friendship—but having done it without even knowing him clearly messed things up. The man who was supposed to love me had just tried to kill me. Or…
Maybe in this game, this was love?
But that wasn't the point.
Before the hunt began, we were given a very clear instruction: You will not interfere.
The dragon had headed toward Aurel.
If I hadn't intervened… the little prince would've died.
So now?
Would my interference be seen as disobedience by the mages?
Lucian…
I pictured his face. He had looked at me through the crowd.
After everything that had happened, I felt distant from him. But now I realized—I missed him.
And being taken into this tent, in front of his eyes… made my stomach turn.
Because of me… no one else should be hurt.
God, please…
⸻
The tent flap opened.
Cassian entered. Silent. He didn't even acknowledge me. As if I wasn't there, he removed his armor, set his sword aside.
I was still standing. Hands clasped. Lips dry.
When should I speak? What should I say? Apologize? Beg?
The silence dragged on.
Then… the air grew heavier. And his voice came:
"The king had that dragon prepared especially for Aurel."
No emotion in his voice. Just emptiness.
"You ruined his plan, mage."
The ground slipped out from under me.
What…?
The king… planned that for his own son?
Did I just… ruin his plan?
What kind of country is this?
The dragon. Aurel. Cassian's silence. And now this.
The king had tried to kill his own son. And I… stopped it.
This… this could be seen as a crime.
Cassian had told me this so casually because…
Because I would be blamed.
Because mages were always the scapegoats.
Lucian. Nina. Orren. They were all in danger—because of me.
I sank to my knees. Without hesitation. Forgetting pride.
"Please… don't blame the mages for this, Your Majesty," I said.
"The mistake was mine. I did it.
Punish me.
I'll do whatever you ask…"
My words were swallowed by the shadows.
Cassian slowly raised a hand to his temple. Pressed it.
As if he had a headache.
But he was only… signaling.
Silence.
And I obeyed.
⸻
Cassian moved to the bed. That soft, dark bed prepared just for him… He lay down without a word.
Placed his arm over his eyes.
Stayed like that.
Was he asleep?
But even lying there, in silence… he was the one in control.
I was still on my knees.
I didn't dare move.
Because… the lives of those I loved were hidden within his silence.
And that silence… hurt more than screaming.