The rich smell of coffee lingered warmly inside Kael's chamber, mixing faintly with the morning breeze seeping in through the half-opened window. On a tray by his bedside, Robert carefully placed a small basket of bread and a steaming cup of Kael's favorite drink.
"Eat slowly, young master," Robert said, his tone both formal and gentle. "It's delicious, isn't it?"
Kael nodded slightly, tearing a piece of bread and taking another bite. The taste was familiar—simple, soft, and comforting. His mind drifted back to the small bakery in the city, the same place where Elric once insisted they buy bread together. The same bread she had shared with him then.
Robert noticed the faint change in Kael's eyes as he chewed, and a smile tugged at his lips. For a brief moment, relief eased the tightness in his chest. Seeing Kael enjoy even something as small as breakfast was enough to calm him.
"Lady Elric bought it just this morning before you woke up," Robert explained, settling into a chair near the bed. "She waited outside the shop before it even opened. You should thank her later."
His words carried a hint of nagging care, but Kael ignored it. He quietly lifted the cup of coffee, savoring its warmth as the bitter aroma filled his senses. It had been too long since he last tasted the familiar drink—too long since he had felt even this small sense of normalcy.
The door creaked open. Reinhardt stepped into the room, his golden hair catching the morning light. His gaze softened the moment he saw Kael seated upright, eating with quiet composure. A smile touched his lips.
"Good morning," he greeted warmly.
Kael turned his head, his expression unreadable, but his silence was enough to acknowledge the greeting.
Reinhardt crossed the room at an unhurried pace, pulling a chair closer before lowering himself opposite Kael. His eyes flicked toward the breadbasket. "Can I have some?" he asked, tone light, almost playful.
To his surprise, Kael reached out, lifted a piece, and offered it across the table without hesitation. Reinhardt blinked, momentarily stunned, before chuckling awkwardly.
"It was just a joke," he said quickly, holding his palm out. "Take it back. It's yours. They brought it for you." He pushed the bread back across the tray.
Kael's gaze lingered on him for a moment, and then, in a voice low but steady, he spoke:
"...you used to barge into my room and ask for my food. Now you don't want it."
The words hung in the air like a spark in dry tinder. Both Reinhardt and Robert froze. Reinhardt flinched, color rising faintly to his face. He lifted a finger to his lips in a hasty gesture, eyes darting toward Kael in alarm.
"That's supposed to be our secret!" he hissed, voice half-panicked, half-playful.
Robert's eyes widened as he whipped his head between the two of them. "What do you mean, secret?" His voice cracked with shock.
Kael ignored his stare, lifting his cup of coffee once more and sipping with quiet calm. Reinhardt, however, tried to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in his chair.
"Well… it's a secret between me and Kael," Reinhardt said, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're too young to know about it." His tone was deliberately teasing, but the laugh that followed was stiff, unconvincing.
Robert wasn't buying it. He narrowed his emerald eyes, staring at Reinhardt as though demanding an explanation. He knew Kael would never give him one, so his only chance was Reinhardt.
Yet Reinhardt, rather than meet his brother's gaze, deflected. He leaned back in his chair and turned back toward Kael, trying to spark another conversation with him instead. Kael, as always, remained silent, his expression unmoved, leaving Reinhardt to flounder under Robert's glare.
For the first time, Kael sat quietly and observed Robert and Reinhardt exchange words. It struck him as strange—he had rarely seen them converse like this, let alone argue. Robert was insistent, trying to dig at Reinhardt's secrets, while Reinhardt danced around every question with half-smiles and dismissive remarks.
Kael recalled what Elric had once told him: that Reinhardt and Robert were brothers. Now, watching them bicker, Kael could see it clearly—the resemblance in their golden hair, their shared emerald eyes. And yet… there was something else. A subtle distance between them, like a wall neither dared to climb.
The silence stretched until Reinhardt, sensing Robert's persistence, decided to cut the tension. "Before I forget," he said smoothly, changing the subject, "where is Elric?"
-----------------------------------------
The morning sun had just begun to climb higher, casting pale light over the rugged slopes of Caldery Mountain. The air was sharp, heavy with the lingering scent of snow and stone. The rhythmic thunder of hooves echoed as Elric approached on horseback, her cloak billowing behind her.
At the foot of the mountain, Albert stood waiting with a detachment of guards. Their armor glinted faintly in the sun, but their faces were serious, weighed down by the task before them.
Elric pulled on the reins, her horse slowing to a halt before Albert. She swung gracefully down from the saddle, her boots crunching on the frost-dusted ground. Her eyes, sharp as steel, swept over the scene unfolding before her.
Soldiers were hauling long, pale remains from the mouth of a cave—massive bones, bleached by time, the unmistakable skeleton of a dragon. The air felt heavier with every fragment brought into the light, as though the mountain itself mourned the disturbance.
Elric's gaze hardened. "How was the transfer movement? Did anything unusual happen?" Her tone was calm but commanding, her words cutting through the clamor of men shouting orders.
Albert bowed his head slightly before answering. "Everything has gone as planned so far. We should be finished by evening, though the work is delicate. The bones must be handled carefully—we cannot risk leaving scars or fractures."
Elric's boots crunched softly as she moved toward one of the carriages, where soldiers were carefully arranging rib bones larger than any human body. She extended her hand and brushed her fingertips against the cold surface. It sent a faint shiver down her arm, though she did not withdraw.
"We must give the bones a proper burial," Albert said solemnly, stepping beside her. His expression carried both reverence and weariness. "It is the only way to honor the guardian of Delcra."
Elric's lips pressed into a thin line. She knew the history. Long ago, this dragon had turned against the city, wreaking havoc and leaving scars that still lingered in memory. And yet—before that, it had been known as the protector of the western lands, the silent sentinel of Delcra.
To simply treat its remains as a carcass… that felt wrong.
Her thoughts were cut short when her eyes caught sight of something further down the slope. A group of soldiers struggled to carry the colossal skull out of the cave, its hollow sockets gaping like a grim mask. For just an instant, Elric's heart skipped—something unnatural shimmered faintly within the empty sockets.
Albert noticed her rigid posture. "You sense it as well?" His voice dropped low. He had felt it too.
Elric turned her sharp eyes toward him. "There's something wrong with it."
Albert exhaled, his tone measured. "When beasts die, their remaining mana usually gathers in their heads. It's the same with demon creatures. That's why whenever we approach the skulls or horns, we feel that eerie aura. It's nothing new."
But Elric's instincts screamed otherwise. That suffocating pulse, the faint red glow she thought she saw—this wasn't the usual residue of mana.
And then she saw it.
Inside the cavernous sockets of the dragon's skull, a flicker of crimson light. Like embers awakening in ash.
Before she could speak, the ground shuddered beneath her boots. A deep rumble rolled through the mountain, shaking loose stones and sending soldiers staggering. Horses whinnied in panic. Elric gripped the edge of the carriage to steady herself as the earth roared beneath them.
"An earthquake?!" one of the guards cried, dropping a crate.
"No!" Elric's eyes widened as the glow in the skull blazed brighter, spilling red light across the snow.
The dragon's skull slipped from the soldiers' grasp and crashed to the ground with a thunderous boom. Instead of shattering, it trembled violently, then rose into the air as though pulled by invisible strings.
The soldiers gasped in horror, scattering back.
"Lady Elric!" Albert shouted, grabbing her arm and pulling her aside as the carriages toppled, shattered by the force. Bones that had been neatly stacked began to shake and rattle, then shot into the air one after another.
The sky darkened as rib bones, claws, and vertebrae spun toward the levitating skull, locking together in rapid succession.
With each piece that snapped into place, the air grew heavier, the earth trembling beneath the reassembly of a nightmare.
Elric's eyes widened in disbelief as the skeletal figure of the dragon loomed, its colossal frame reformed before her. She could feel the unnatural mana radiating off it, chilling and oppressive, like the breath of death itself.
Albert's face was drained of color. "W-what is happening?!"
The dragon's eye sockets blazed with unholy red light as its massive head turned toward them. The ground split beneath the weight of its step as it roared—though no lungs filled its chest, the sound tore through the mountain like thunder.
Elric's lips parted, her voice unsteady with something she rarely felt—fear. "It… it's alive."
No. Not alive. Something worse.
The guardian of Delcra had risen again—not in life, but as a cursed, undead husk.