"So? What rank are you two?"
Katsu lay stretched across the broad, furred back of the Behemoth. Its thunderous steps rocked him gently, like waves lapping against a tired boat. The beast's hide radiated heat, each breath misting into the cold morning air.
Ahead, Riven walked with easy confidence, reins looped loosely in one hand. His cloak fluttered behind him, more shadow than fabric, catching light only when the forest allowed it.
Maedra sat near the edge of the saddle-platform, one leg crossed over the other, back straight. Her gaze drifted calmly over the treeline—watchful, but unbothered.
Katsu shifted, propping his chin against his arm. His eyes wandered—sky, branches, Maedra.
"You didn't answer me," he called lazily.
Maedra didn't turn. But her voice met his easily, smooth and reserved.
"Our ranks aren't measured by your Academy," she said. "We're Warrior Class. Not Mage. Since when did mages start carrying swords?"
Katsu blinked. "I mean... we fight."
"You survive," she corrected. "There's a difference."
A pause.
Katsu smirked. "Ouch."
She still didn't look at him.
"Your system—Weakling, Seer, Archmage—it's a student game. Titles wrapped in old lore and recycled doctrine. You say them like they mean something."
He frowned. "They do. Don't they?"
"To the ones who made them up? Maybe."
There was silence for a beat, save for the low creak of leather and the Behemoth's steady breath.
Katsu rolled onto his side, squinting at her. "What, you don't have ranks in Orador?"
"We do. Just not yours."
"Okay then. What would I be?"
Maedra paused.
Then glanced at him—just enough to make it sting.
"Not Dragon level."
Katsu narrowed his eyes. "What's that?"
She blinked slowly, as if the question itself was foreign. "Right. Of course. You wouldn't know. The Dragons are gone."
"…So it's a rank?"
"It was." Her voice softened slightly, just enough to carry weight. "Before the Academy rewrote the world to feel safe. Before power was trimmed to fit lesson plans."
Katsu leaned forward, watching her now.
"What comes after it?"
Maedra's gaze drifted back to the trees.
"Nothing," she said.
And then—
Leviathan laughed.
A soft, spiraling sound inside his mind. Velvet and venom. Cold enough to sting.
Nothing?
The Princess Of Envy echoed, amusement curling around the word.
Katsu's eyes flicked skyward. "Nothing?" he repeated aloud.
Maedra didn't move.
"Nothing," she said again. "Except the Founders of that spoiled hell you call an Academy. And the demons your people claim they sealed."
Leviathan's tone shifted. Low, almost fond.
They sealed us… with titles. With prayers. With fear.
A pause.
You should ask her what came before the Dragons.
Katsu didn't ask.
He didn't need to.
Because he already knew the answer.
Katsu jumped off the Behemoth.
"Where are we going? You're not trying to take me to Orador, are you?"
Katsu landed lightly on the forest floor, boots sinking into a bed of needles. His question hung between them, sharpened by cold air and suspicion.
Maedra glanced down from the Behemoth's back. The giant creature snorted, warm breath steaming in the morning chill. Riven eased the reins and brought the mount to a halt, dark eyes flicking between Katsu and the path ahead.
"No," Maedra said at last. "We're not going to Orador."
Katsu folded his arms. "Then why the detour? The capital's—"
"A day behind us," she cut in, voice still even. "And crawling with Academy eyes. If you walk into Orador now, you won't leave again."
"Comforting."
Riven gave a small, nervous laugh. "We're… skirting Orador. Trust me, you don't want the warm welcome waiting inside."
Katsu's jaw clenched. "Then where?"
Maedra tilted her head to the east. The forest there darkened, trees thinning into crooked silhouettes. Beyond them, the land dropped away into a mist‑filled basin. Jagged shadows arched from the fog like ribs.
"Through there," she said. "Across the Ash Basin. To an old grave."
Katsu followed her gaze. A faint, metallic tang touched the back of his tongue. Mana. Old mana, thick and iron‑bitter.
"A grave?" he echoed. "Whose?"
"Dragon," Riven answered quietly. "An ancient one. Long dead but... not quiet. Its bones keep the north and south apart. We call it the SSS+ Dragon Corpse. The Academy calls it an unclassed hazard and pretends it doesn't exist."
Katsu stared at them, incredulous. "You want me to stroll through a dragon's corpse?"
Maedra's eyes were unreadable. "You wanted answers. The ones you seek aren't in Orador's hall. They're inside those bones."
Leviathan stirred at the base of his skull, her laugh like smoke curling around glass.
A dragon. How quaint.
"You sound excited," Katsu muttered under his breath.
She hummed, low and hungry. The great reptiles were always so greedy. Even dead, they hoard power. Think of what lies inside those ribs.
"I'm thinking of not being crushed," he shot back.
Then why are you still standing here?
He forced his shoulders to relax. "Fine. Let's say I go along with this insane field trip. What exactly am I supposed to find in a corpse?"
Maedra dismounted from the Behemoth with a fluid motion. She landed beside him, cloak settling around her like a second shadow.
"Your mother's promise," she said simply.
Katsu's heart skipped.
"What?" The word slipped out harsher than he meant.
She didn't look away. "Shizune Nori carried something when she fled north. Something your House was meant to protect. My people took it when Velthra fell. We hid it where no one would dare search. If you are truly her son, then you'll reclaim it."
"And if I'm not?"
"Then the corpse will eat you," Leviathan whispered, delighted.
Riven grimaced. "It's not… literally eating? More like… draining. People go in and don't come back."
Katsu blew out a slow breath, watching it fog in the cold air. He glanced at the towering Behemoth, at the dark path eastward, at Maedra's steady expression. The night before, he had stood in a burning glyph and felt something in him unlock. Ancient magic had answered his call. Now a corpse demanded a piece of his past.
He could turn back. Ride to the capital. Accept the Academy's lies about Founders and titles and live quietly until a lightning bolt found him again.
Or he could step into the bones of a dragon and drag the truth out by its roots.
He spat into the dirt, a small rebellion against inevitability. "Lead the way, then."
Maedra nodded once. "Riven. Take the Behemoth around. He'll wait for us on the north ridge."
Riven patted the massive creature's flank. "Be careful," he murmured, both to his friends and to the beast. Then he guided the reins, steering the Behemoth away along a narrow deer trail that skirted the basin.
Katsu watched them go until the trees swallowed the beast's hulking form. Alone with Maedra, the forest felt smaller. Colder.
"Ready?" she asked.
No, he thought. "Yeah."
They moved east, feet crunching through frost and fallen needles. The trees thinned quickly, the earth beneath their boots turning from loam to gray ash. A wide basin opened before them, ringed by black stone. Mist clung to its floor, swirling in sluggish currents.
And rising from the mist were bones.
They were colossal, each rib the size of an oarship's mast, arcing high then plunging back into the ground. A spine like a shattered road cut across the basin, vertebrae rising and falling in gentle humps. Frost glittered on the bone, casting pale light across the ash. In the center of the ribcage, a skull lay tilted on its side, jaws half‑open as if frozen mid‑roar. Empty eye sockets stared at the gray sky. The skull alone was as large as the Velthra estate.
Katsu swallowed. His voice came out a whisper despite himself.
"It's… huge."
"Dragons were worshipped as gods for a reason," Maedra said softly. "This one fell in the Calamity. Its heart burned for seven days. Its breath turned whole rivers to stone. What remains still hums with Greed."
He felt it too. The closer they got, the more something tugged at him. Mana, yes, but twisted. It slid over his skin like oil. He flexed his fingers, letting green mana pool in his palm. The Leviathan's presence coiled around it, cautious.