Sora stopped and turned, gazing toward the fallen dragon's corpse.
Tabasa and William were slumped over their mounts, utterly spent from channeling and sustaining the mighty [Pyro Explosion] spell. They looked as though they might drift into unconsciousness at any moment.
To the west of the city, the Kelmanian troops were advancing rapidly, while Toristine's forces stood on alert, weapons drawn.
Sora walked slowly toward the blackened carcass, Dever gripped tightly in his hand.
The dragon's enormous body was charred, heat still rippling off it in waves. The stench of burnt flesh lingered in the air. Sora prodded the corpse with his boot, pushing aside pieces of scorched hide until he uncovered the battered figure of Duke Yanryu beneath — his face smeared with soot, chest rising weakly.
Sora knelt and placed a hand beneath the duke's nose. There was still breath.
His fingers clenched around the sword hilt, eyes flickering with indecision.
By now, the Griffin Squadron and Toristine soldiers had caught up, circling him. Taking a long breath, Sora sheathed Dever and released the thought of killing the duke then and there.
"Griffin Squadron," he ordered sharply. "Detain him. Keep a close watch — around the clock."
Two Griffin riders stepped forward, pried the unconscious duke free from the wreckage, retrieved his wand, bound his hands behind his back, and secured his ankles.
Moments later, Osman arrived with Kelmanian officers — and beside them, Churuka.
"What happened here, Sora?" Osman demanded.
"Sora, are you all right?" Churuka's concern came first — until her eyes found the restrained Duke Yanryu lying amid the scorched debris. Her voice trembled. "Father… what have you done to my father?"
Sora's voice was flat and cold. "He's not dead. But he tried to kill me."
"Release the Duke!" snarled one of the Kelmanian commanders. The soldiers in crimson armor bristled, their spears clattering in unison as fire magicians under red cloaks gathered power — the air crackling with heat.
Across from them, Toristine's troops responded in kind. Griffin riders hovered in formation, ready to strike, while the yellow-armored Gramont guards drew their long blades, leveling them toward the Kelmanian line.
"Duke Yanryu attempted my life," Sora said evenly, his eyes sweeping over the opposing soldiers. "He'll remain in Griffin custody until further notice. You may assign two of your own men to oversee his condition — to confirm he's neither mistreated nor harmed. Once he awakens, we'll discuss his fate."
After a tense silence — broken only by the rustle of wings and the hum of building magic — the Kelmanian commander conferred wordlessly with the leading red-cloaked magician. At last, they relented, dispatching one guard captain and a red mage to stand watch over the unconscious duke.
Osman took command of the situation, organizing fire brigades to combat the blazes that still raged beyond the walls. The devastating spell [Heavenly Fire Burns City] had rained hundreds of fiery meteors across the plain — most landing in the outer woods, setting trees ablaze, though some had struck inside the city, igniting homes and causing casualties.
Thanks to thousands of soldiers and mages working throughout the night, the fires inside the walls were contained, and those outside gradually burned themselves out.
The next day, Sora lay in bed, wrapped in white bandages, his body coated with burn ointment and the lingering ache of potion-enhanced healing.
Osman, Tabasa, and William visited him, listening intently as he recounted every detail of the previous night — from the duke's invitation to the ambush, to the battle in the sky and the final clash near the city.
Tabasa's expression grew dark. William's hands tightened around his wand, wrath barely contained. Both looked as though they might storm Duke Yanryu's cell that very minute.
Osman stroked his long white beard, furrowing his brow. His silence was heavy.
For the duke to take such a risk… could Sora's hidden identity as [Gundaruff] have been discovered? Or was Kelmania deliberately seeking to break the alliance?
Letters were dispatched that same day — one from Sora and Osman to Toristine's royal capital, another from the Kelmanian delegation to their own empire, detailing the incident.
When Duke Yanryu finally awoke, his face was ashen and his expression unreadable. Requesting paper and ink, he demanded permission to write to the Emperor of Kelmania. Sora approved the request. Once completed, the letter was passed to the red-robed guard mage, who departed at once to deliver it.
Throughout the night, diplomatic envoys from neighboring nations sent word home, reporting every rumor, every fragment of truth they could gather.
Inside the city, tension simmered. Toristine and Kelmanian soldiers eyed each other warily in the streets, nearly coming to blows. Civilians whispered, lying awake in fear. The wedding ceremonies — the "second event of welcoming the royal bride" — were immediately suspended.
Soon after, a missive arrived from the Toristine capital: Duke Yanryu was to be transported to the capital for judgment. Both armies were to withdraw from the city — the Kelmanean contingent to camp outside the capital, away from civilians.
As the armies prepared to depart, townsfolk crowded the streets, waving handkerchiefs and muttering prayers — less out of farewell than relief. These days of fire and death had been too much. To see both armies leave felt like liberation.
After two days of nonstop travel, Osman and Sora's group reached the capital. The Duke's custody was transferred to the Musketeer Corps and Chimera Squadron.
Sora first sent word to the three Vallière sisters that he was safe, then contacted Fukai to learn of the capital's developments.
The following morning, Queen Henrietta summoned Osman and Sora for a full briefing — every detail of Duke Yanryu's betrayal, every suspicion and political ripple.
By the next day, grim news arrived: Ten thousand Kelmanian soldiers had massed along the border, facing a combined Toristine force of equal number led by the Dukes of Gramont and Vallière.
A storm was brewing.
Two days later, a new envoy from Kelmania arrived at the capital.
Following Henrietta's orders, Sora personally went to meet the envoy at the city gate.
The gates swung open, revealing streets lined with soldiers and onlookers. Mounted guards maintained order as Sora rode forward atop a gleaming white stallion, silver armor shining beneath a crimson cloak. Dever hung sheathed at his side; his face was solemn, eyes sharp as tempered steel.
From the distance came the Kelmanian procession — a column of soldiers bearing red standards emblazoned with a golden lion's head, symbol of the Kelmanian royal family. Behind them rode armored knights and, finally, a lavish carriage drawn by four horses.
Sora narrowed his eyes. The golden lion… a royal emissary?
The convoy halted before the gate. The knights parted, and the grand carriage rolled forward, stopping ten meters away.
A commanding voice rang out from within, dripping with pride. "You are Sora, aren't you?"
Sora's hand brushed his sword hilt. His gaze didn't waver. "That's right," he said calmly.
A sharp, derisive laugh echoed. "Hmph. Uncle Nilent speaks too highly of you. This princess wishes to see for herself whether you deserve such praise."
A pale, slender hand swept back the curtain. Golden hair, dazzling beneath the sun, cascaded down like molten fire.
A tall woman in a gold-and-red gown stood poised on the carriage step — regal, confident, and strikingly beautiful. Ruby-colored eyes gleamed with pride as she looked down at Sora, a faint, playful smile curving her lips.