Chapter 33: Fragment
Nidhogg shed her draconic bulk and took on a human shape.
The towering Black Dragon shrank like a receding tide, becoming a tall woman.
Lilith recognized that silhouette, a moonlit outline she knew by heart.
The Black Dragon bent low like a storm crouching.
One boot pinned the giant dragon’s skull; her hand wrenched a horn free.
She gripped the Golden Dragon’s broken horn and speared it into a cooled slab of iron, like planting a stake into frozen earth.
“This thing seems able to control metal.” Nidhogg worked the horn, fingers moving like weaving.
At her feet, congealed iron sprouted a length, twisted in the air, then went still.
“I’m not clear on the mechanism—likely magic. My mana’s thin. Lilith, your turn.”
The Black Dragon released the horn and stepped back, giving Lilith space like clearing a stage.
“Alright.” The Little White Dragon stepped up and gripped the horn sunk in iron skin.
She funneled her Star Energy into the shard like pouring starlight into a blade.
Her attempt caught fire.
Lilith poured her star-surge into the iron, like magic layered bead on bead.
She stacked the power, then steered it, and the iron mass thinned into leaf-fine sheets.
They lifted like flocking swallows, rose to the vast hole overhead, and patched the city’s torn sky.
It wasn’t a small project, a road of work stretching like dunes.
Yet with her deep Star Energy, the Little White Dragon restored the ruin to its old bones fast.
From the outside, scars still showed, new metal and old sand meeting unevenly.
But the frame stood; at least Bosaklie wouldn’t split in two if a crowd walked by.
Lilith had stitched a new skin on the city—enough kindness for now.
She let go of the Golden Dragon’s broken horn.
Pain ran like cold rain under her scales; fatigue came first, then breath.
She stood and stretched like a lazy cat, a long arc that eased locked nerves.
A few soft hums slipped from her throat, purrs bright as silk.
Loosened, Lilith hopped straight into Nidhogg’s arms like a sparrow to a warm branch.
She clung to the Black Dragon, grin shining.
“Heh, Nidhogg, guess why the Golden Dragon suddenly came back to life?”
“How would I know?” Nidhogg’s tone was dry, a blade on stone.
“In that memory, Gaia flattened the Golden Dragon like dough—yet here it’s hopping around.”
“Even its remaining bones show no fractures.”
“With Gaia’s slap, a whole corpse would’ve been wishful thinking.”
“I think something else stands behind it,” Lilith said, voice low, like cloud-shadow.
“I don’t believe the Golden Dragon alone could escape Gaia and weave a plan this long.”
“It craves godhood for itself—someone likely aimed that hunger and fired the gun.”
“Reasonable.” Nidhogg nodded, a dark wave settling.
“But we don’t know the puppeteer.
Better plan our next move.”
She pointed at the sprawled dragon, a mountain of silence on the floor.
“Its bones, blood, and soul are all here.
To stop another rise, we should have the Demons release them to where they belong.”
“Sure, but don’t forget—its bones are Bosaklie’s frame.” Lilith lifted her gaze, worry first.
“If we pull them, will the Eternal City split while it’s rolling?”
“Not likely.” The Black Dragon shook her head, like a crow shaking rain.
“A city that sails the sand this long surely prepared to detach from dragon bones.”
“We just need to notify Satan and let her brace ahead of time.”
“More pressing is this one.”
Nidhogg came to Lilith’s side and hauled up an unconscious Reaper Fragment.
She showed it to the Little White Dragon like a fisherman showing a strange catch.
“Reaper Fragment?” Lilith tilted her head, curiosity bright as a candle.
“What’s wrong with it? Without a mind, it’s no real threat.
The other two fragments fused into Litt; they won’t jump out to cause trouble.”
“Litt does carry two Reaper Fragments, so this one won’t start trouble by itself.”
“But if someone truly directed the Golden Dragon, would they ignore a chance to gather Litt and this shard?”
“You mean the hidden hand wants all the Reaper Fragments together, to call the Grim Reaper’s true body?”
Lilith got it, brows knotting like tightening rope.
“That’s about it.” Nidhogg gave a small nod.
The Little White Dragon might be clumsy, but her understanding came fast, like lightning over sand.
“Then we take this one too,” Lilith said, glancing at the fragment snoring on Nidhogg’s shoulder.
This shard had no consciousness; she guessed the Demon Realm’s calamity still raged, leaving it too weak to wake.
Back then, Litt under Morris was just a tiny embryo, kept in a blood pool.
This one in Bosaklie shows no response, likely for the same reason.
“Let’s find Satan first.”
Lilith helped Nidhogg secure the Reaper Fragment, then trailed after her like a pale stream.
“She’ll know why a Reaper Fragment appeared in Bosaklie’s furnace.”
“We’ll get the full picture, map the next step, decide whether to dig the Golden Dragon out or leave it be.”
“Mm. I’ll follow your lead.” Nidhogg nodded, a deep drumbeat of agreement.
