King Mathias straightened upon his throne.
The snow hadn't stopped falling. It drifted through the shattered ceiling and settled across broken marble without hurry, covering the debris of the battle in pale, indifferent white. Outside, the capital was quiet.
Mathias looked at his advisors. Then at the crowd behind them — nobles with ash-stained coats, knights who hadn't slept, civilians who had survived something they still didn't have words for. Finally, he looked at Toki, standing at the center of everything with his hands at his sides and his eyes forward.
The old king exhaled.
"Those who believe Toki Ikaru is guilty," he said. "Raise your hand."
Conor Berg's hand rose instantly.
Two advisors followed.
Three.
Conor's shoulders dropped a fraction. Beside him, one advisor stared at the floor. The other kept his eyes on Toki with the fixed expression of a man quietly building the argument he'd use to sleep tonight.
Toki noticed, four hundred years had made him fluent in that particular language.
"And those who believe Toki Ikaru is not guilty."
A pause — longer this time.
Aldric raised his hand. The old advisor had served the king for all his life, and his voice carried that history without announcing it.
"Toki Ikaru concealed his identity and kept secrets that affected the well being of this kingdom. I won't pretend otherwise." His eyes moved briefly to Toki . "And yet. When this capital stood at the edge of ruin, he stood with it. Not because anyone ordered him to. Not because he had anything left to gain." His voice didn't rise. "That choice deserves to be remembered."
The second hand rose alongside his.
Conor was already on his feet.
"Three votes against two. The majority has decided — Toki Ikaru is—"
"Not yet concluded."
Mathias said it quietly. Conor stopped mid-sentence.
"Not everyone has voted."
The room turned toward the red-haired woman.
She hadn't moved. One leg crossed over the other, eyes fixed on a point somewhere between the floor and a decision she was still working through.
Conor's control slipped slightly.
"You said you had reached a decision." The irritation beneath his words was audible despite his efforts. "Do not drag this out."
She looked at him.
Then, for the first time since entering the throne room, she smiled.
"You're right," she said. "This has gone on long enough."
She raised her hand.
"My heart tells me Toki Ikaru deserves another chance."
The room broke open — not loudly, but all at once. Whispers collided across the ruined hall. Nobles leaned toward each other. Utsuki's breath caught. Melissa's hand found Elizabeth's arm. Bernard said nothing, but the pressure in his jaw eased for the first time since Toki had entered the room
Conor stared at the woman.
"You would free him because of a few pretty words?"
"No." . "I would free him because I was informed that him and Bernard Edmund made the false Rindal bleed." . "Do you understand what that means, Conor Berg? I can count on one hand the people alive today who could have survived it — let alone ended it." Her fingers tapped once against her sheath. "I don't judge people by what they've hidden. I judge them by what they can do. Toki and Bernard are the best this new generation has produced. Removing either of them would be the most expensive mistake Luminith has made in decades."
She didn't raise her voice. "I would free him because nothing about this adds up."
Her eyes moved to Toki briefly, then back to Conor.
"He caused destruction — I won't deny that. But I cannot find any malice behind it. And that absence matters." . "If Toki were a Star Collector like the others, why confess? He had no guarantee of walking out of this room. No deal secured in advance, no powerful ally waiting to pull him free." Her fingers rested still against her sheath for once. "A man with a hidden agenda doesn't place himself in front of a tribunal and tell the truth. He lies, he deflects, he disappears." She glanced at Conor. "That is what guilty men do. What Toki did was something else entirely."
The room was quiet.
"So no," she said. "This is not sentiment. It is logic. And the logic does not point where you want it to."
She glanced across the crowd briefly.
"This organization has grown old. The world moved on while we spin in circles. What this kingdom needs now is people capable to keep up ."
Conor held her gaze for a moment.
Three against three.
Something behind his eyes went cold.
"Fine!" . "A tie means Toki remains in custody until a final verdict—"
"What an extraordinarily dishonorable man you are."
Conor's jaw tightened. "Honor is worth nothing if it abandons the pursuit of justice."
"What do any of you humans understand about justice?"
The voice arrived like thunder— filling the space between the walls and settling into the chest of everyone present. Snow exploded from the broken ceiling as something vast descended through the open sky and landed behind the throne. The marble floor cracked further under the impact. Torches guttered.
Lorelay grabbed Smith's sleeve.
Smith didn't move.
Ozvold's hand went to his sword before he caught himself. Beside him, Bernard watched the Dragon King like a good hand of cards, a small smile formed on his face.
The Dragon King's amber eyes moved across the hall before settling on Toki with unmistakable intention.
"Before this kingdom drew its first border," he said, "before your Order was named, before the Church of Moonlight lit its first candle — I was here." He let that sit. "I will serve as the third voice in this judgment."
Conor tried to say something but the words got stuck in his throat
The Dragon King's gaze returned to Toki. His expression shifted slightly — the words he had wanted to say for so long finally began to take shape.
"I promised to respect your choice," he said. " I intend to keep that promise....but I come with a different offer."
The hall held still.
"Unite your soul with mine. A contract." His enormous head lowered . "I will teach you everything I know and share my strength with you. In return, you will become my Dragon Knight. Guardian of this kingdom until the Royal Selection ends and a true ruler is crowned."
"You cannot form a covenant with—"
"Why not?" Mathias asked.
The old king looked between them with the patience of a man who had spent decades navigating worse. "Toki belongs to the royal bloodline. The Dragon King offers a guardian freely, without condition, during a period when this kingdom can least afford to be undefended." He folded his hands. "Two years remain before the Selection concludes. Someone of Toki's capability, bound by contract is not a punishment.....it is generous."
"You've grown wiser," the Dragon King said.
Mathias smiled faintly. "Time doesn't give you much choice."
Toki wasn't following the conversation anymore.
*If I accept, I become more visible. Every step watched, every action measured. The suspicion around me now will compound with his name added to mine.*
*And yet.*
He thought.
*He knew Rindal personally. He was there.*
*He might be the only being alive who can explain what I actually am.*
Something settled inside his chest .
"As long as this contract doesn't interfere with the Royal Selection," he said, "and my family stays outside of it— I accept."
The Dragon King's ancient gaze warmed .
"That is exactly the kind of answer I expected from Rindal's son."
Utsuki pressed her hands together beneath her sleeves and said nothing. Bernard exhaled slowly, tilting his head back . Elizabeth's eyes moved to Conor with an expression she didn't bother to conceal. Melissa was losing her fight against a smile.
"And you," Conor said, turning toward the Dragon King with what remained of his composure. "Do you not think your judgment here is rather... emotional? You proclaimed him the son of Rindal in front of this entire hall. Sentiment has no place in—"
The Dragon King looked at him.
"You are more thick-headed than I would prefer," he said. The words came out almost tired. "But fine."
He shifted his weight, and the floor groaned beneath him.
"I will present justice to you in the purest form."
The Dragon King lowered his head to the floor.
The Living Gold chain slid free from his horns and fell into his open mouth. White fire followed pale and quiet, consuming the metal without smoke . He held it, then released it carefully onto the cracked marble.
The metal spread and settled.
When the steam cleared, a massive claymore stood upright in the stone — buried to half its blade, still as though it had been there since before the palace existed. The metal was bright, absorbing light rather than catching it. Along the flat of the blade, visible only at certain angles, a pattern of scales wound from crossguard to tip.
Toki recognized it too well.
The Dragon King's expression gave away nothing.
"This blade was made from the purest material available," he announced. "No loyalty. No preference. No sentiment." His eyes moved across every face in the hall. "Whoever draws it holds the right to judge."
Conor stepped forward first.
Both hands on the grip. He pulled.
The sword did not move.
He pulled harder . The blade sat exactly as it had. He released the grip and stepped back without speaking.
The red-haired woman approached. She extended one fingerand touched the handle briefly.
"This isn't mine to carry," she said.
The Dragon King looked at Toki.
So did everyone else.
Toki stepped forward, closed his hand around the grip, and pulled.
The blade came free immediately . The weight settled into his hand . He turned it slowly in the pale light and studied the dragon along its length.
*Living Gold I shaped myself. Of course.*
He looked at the Dragon King.
*No wonder you and my father understood each other.*
He lowered the sword.
"Since Toki alone can draw the blade," the Dragon King said, "Toki alone will deliver the judgment."
"This is absurd—" Conor started.
"It is exactly what you asked for," the red-haired woman said. "Impartial judgment."
Quiet settled over the hall.
Toki looked at the blade.
*I could argue every charge. I've had learn how language bends.* He knew which words to use. Which silences to let breathe. Which truths, framed carefully enough, functioned like something else entirely.
He looked at the ruined city through the broken walls. At the gaps where people used to stand.
*But I'm tired of that version of myself.*
"I won't run from what I've broken," he said. " Sitting in a cell won't fix any of it." His eyes moved briefly to Utsuki, to Bernard, to the people who had chosen to stand beside him . "I choose responsibility over punishment. That is my judgment."
Conor straightened.
He walked toward the exit ,he passed Toki without slowing.
"You will pay," he said. "For every humiliation you have caused me."
Toki looked at the back of his head.
"Probably," he said.
Conor left.
His footsteps faded down the ruined corridor.
Nobody spoke for a moment.
The Dragon King stepped forward until he stood before Toki.
He lowered his head slowly until it was nearly level with Toki's chest. Up close, each scale was larger than a palm. The white fire behind his teeth cast faint, shifting light across the floor between them.
Toki raised his free hand and pressed it gently against the Dragon King's face.
Stone scattered across the hall as white light tore through the gaps.
The Dragon King's expression, half-visible through the light, shifted.
*He has almost as much mana as I do.If we keep going like this, we'll both explode!*
A thread of pale light formed between them .
"Do the honors," the Dragon King said.
Toki raised the claymore and brought it down clean — severing the thread and sealing it in the same motion. The contract closed with a sound spreading through the floor and up through the remaining walls and out into the open sky above the broken capital.
The light faded.
The mana settled.
The throne room returned to its cold, snow-dusted quiet .
"Since we're friends now," Toki said, "you could give me your name."
The Dragon King blinked. A slow, ancient blink that somehow managed to convey genuine confusion.
"I have never been bothered with that question before."
"That's a problem." Toki tilted his head slightly. "Your title is tied to what you are. Your name is tied to who you are." He paused, thinking.
"Let me consider... what about Ragnar?" "No. Zayron?" "...Scorch."
"You name things just as poorly as your father did," the Dragon King said, visibly irritated.
"Hey." Toki raised a hand. "You are my first dragon. You could show some compassion." He thought for a moment longer. "What about... Nozomu."
"Idiot. That is your name."
"No, my name is Toki." He met the Dragon's eyes with a perfectly straight face. "But since you're so attached to my original name — why not take it for yourself?"
The Dragon King went quiet.
Something shifted in his expression .
"...It is a rather a symbolic name for what binds us," he admitted. Then, with the particular pride of a creature of that greatness,he said "Very well. My name is Nozomu, King of the Dragons!"
Toki smiled.
"And I am Toki. The Dragon Knight."
"Now," the Dragon King said, "we are bound as we should have been long ago."
Toki looked at the moon through the broken ceiling.
Four hundred and twenty-one years. Every decision that had led here.
"Yes, he said quietly.Everything is as it should be..."