Lilith pushed herself up after a short rest, palms gritty with earth. The black‑clad swordsman hovered at her side, and together they pried the red dragon from the ground like a root tugged from dry soil. Flung aside, Orphela blinked herself awake. A white‑haired girl loomed over her, cheeks puffed, a small finger tapping the dragon’s nose like a drumstick on bronze. I beat you already. Go cry to your king back in your dragon lands! I’m going back to the kingdom!

Orphela used her wings to brace and sit. The red dragon drew in her razor claws and heavy tail, shrinking back to the shape Lilith first met. Her voice came low and dull, like embers under ash. No need. The King is already in your human capital, negotiating with your human king. She told me to take you straight to the frontier capital.

Why should I trust you? The wariness hit first, sharp as ice in Lilith’s chest, and then her stance followed. This red dragon could stand after all those hammer blows. If I let her close, I’m dead meat. I haven’t received any message from the King. Until the King declares me a demon dragon, I’m still humanity’s Hero, the kingdom’s White Holy Maiden, not your so‑called Little White Dragon.

I know. That’s why the King came herself. Ah—she’s here. Mind the dust. Orphela’s tail swayed and pointed at the rim of the sky, where a crimson sun climbed like a burning coin.

Lilith followed that errant tail and looked up. Her breath snagged. A second sun rose upon the vault of heaven.

The red sun leapt higher, then sheared into a falling star. It screamed toward Lilith and Orphela. Lilith froze, nailed in place by fear, and watched the fireball slam into the earth before her. The ground burst into rings of dust, a brown tide swallowing her sight. She threw an arm over her eyes. Only after a long, stinging moment did the glare and grit begin to fade.

When the smoke thinned, a colossal red dragon strode out of the walking sand. The great wyrm settled on its haunches. Even with its head bowed, it stood as high as a ten‑story tower. In its shadow, the White Holy Maiden was an ant at the foot of a mountain.

Huge amber slit‑pupils hunted, then fixed on a certain trembling Little White Dragon. The giant opened a mouth that could swallow a steer whole. Heat washed out in a casual cough of flame, and then a sonorous voice followed. A good day to you, human Saint. I bring you two lives. One is your human king. The other is your rebirth.

Hey! That’s not how that bit goes! At least wait till I’m face‑down to drop that line! Fear broke under indignation, like ice under a heel. Sixteen, seven years online, and three as a Saint—Lilith refused to let anyone butcher a joke in front of her. She jabbed a finger at the dragon’s massive head and hollered.

Heh. What an amusing Little White Dragon. If I take you home, the little princess will be over the moon. The great dragon didn’t anger. She smiled in her way, then lifted her vast, bladed left claw. From that trembling hold, she set down one miserable king who’d been jostled the entire way. The king staggered out from beneath the dragon like a sailor off a storm, found a dead tree, and clung to its brittle trunk as he emptied his stomach. Pity tugged at Lilith’s chest; she had no healing to offer, only eyes that had to watch him suffer.

Long time no see, my Hero. When the retching passed, the king put his noble mask back on and faced her, voice steady as a drawn blade. Lilith pushed away the indecorous image she’d just witnessed. She bowed her head, every word careful. The Demon King has fallen. Lilith did not fail her mission. I can face you again, my king.

I’m glad—truly glad—you’re still yourself. The king studied her, and relief warmed his eyes like sunrise after a storm. We’ve paid too much hunting down the Taint. We’ve watched too many warriors end as neither man nor ghost. Only the White Holy Maiden could end it, and I—this old man—saw three generations of White Holy Maidens driven mad by the Taint. You did it.

Just luck. The thought came first, cool and guilty, and her mouth echoed it. She knew the truth of her survival. Without the system in her head, three of her wouldn’t have swallowed the world’s Taint.

Luck’s part of strength, my Hero. The king smiled, eyes full of approval. As I promised three years ago, I’ll grant you any three wishes, and honors without end. However—

You’ll be accepted as a dragon. The dragon’s voice cut in, amused thunder in a clear sky. Human history will record a heroic party that perished with the Demon King. The kingdom’s strongest Saint, at death’s door, purified the last speck of Taint. From then on, there will be no Lilith Link among humans. And we dragons, after two hundred years, will welcome another adorable Little White Dragon.

That’s how it is. I’m sorry, child. The king’s tone stayed even, but helpless guilt flowed under it like a buried stream. Because of your horns and tail, we have to take this lesser path. Most nobles oppose peace with the dragons. The hardliners who’d crusade the dragons are the majority. My authority can’t yet drown out every voice. Child, I can’t guarantee your safety.

I understand. The blur hit first; Lilith rushed to wipe her eyes, then forced a smile for the king. I’ll follow your command and go to the dragon lands for the rest of my life. Only…

She swayed, small and awkward, like a cloud blushing at dusk. The color climbed her pale cheeks. The girl ducked her head and peeked up through one eye, voice small as wind in grass. Can I still come back to see you? Like before I left—no one knows, just the two of us. You sit by the bed and listen to my daily complaints. Or we just drink tea and look up at the Star Canvas.

A‑and, I like your stories. Like… Jack. Our dear Jack. You stopped when he beat the giant on Sky Island. You never finished the rest. I asked Mona and she wouldn’t tell me. Will I still get to hear it?

Of course. The king couldn’t help but laugh. Lilith, remember this. No matter what you become, you’re my child. You’re my proud White Holy Maiden. You are humanity’s greatest Hero. Your deeds are deathless. Your name will be sung by thousands.

He stepped out onto the wild plain. To his left lay the bustling border of the kingdom. To his right, the barren ruins of the Demon King. He pointed to the soil underfoot. We’ll raise a stone stele here. Every pioneer who comes to open this waste, when they pass by, will chant your name.

He held the tiny, white‑clad Saint in his gaze. Remember. You’re our salvation. You’re my pride.

Lilith watched the aging king in silence. She wiped at the tears at her lashes, but the track would not vanish; a silver river clung to her cheek no matter how she chased it. The black‑clad swordsman stepped close and screened her with his cloak, giving the little girl a dark tent to weep in peace.

The king and the great dragon shared a glance and a smile. The colossal wyrm dipped her noble head. The old human king lifted his thin hand.

Take care of this child.

Hmph. A White Dragon is a jewel of dragonkind. We’re not treacherous like humans.

Ha. Just wait. The anti‑dragon faction won’t last long. Within two years, I’ll bring Lilith back.

Dream on. I won’t hand her to you.

Fine. We’ll let Lilith choose.

They glared, then burst into laughter together, a storm breaking into rain.

Let Lilith cry a while. She’s still a child. Give her room to breathe. I’m off. The king straightened his clothes and set off with Orphela.

You’re just leaving? Not even a few more words with your little Saint? The dragon blinked, surprised by how cleanly he cut the moment.

No. I have nobles to trim. Those anti‑dragon fossils should be coughing up coin by now. When I come for Lilith, if she’s not well, I’ll make you cough it up too. The king gripped his scepter like a spear, the way he had when he was a knight.

Pfft. I’m terrified, “Dragonslayer.” The dragon laughed, then called to Orphela. Easy on the way. Don’t shake our king’s old back.

You old thing! Wait for my spear!

——————

You’re not afraid I’ll just drop you mid‑flight? Orphela had taken her dragon shape and was carrying the king through the blue. From this height, you’d splatter.

It’s fine. Lilith will make you pay. Your precious Little White Dragon is closer to me than to you. The king laughed, full and booming, as if wind pushed a bell.

You—! Orphela sputtered, tail lashing the air.

Hahaha! The old king’s hearty laughter drifted across the sky. Orphela itched to let go and be done with him, but she ground her teeth, beat her wings, and rushed to get the old troublemaker delivered.