Chapter 46

Little White Dragon stepped to Thousand Legs’ headless corpse, a white shadow drifting over blood like cooling lava.

She didn’t buy it; she poked him again with a pale tentacle, like testing thin ice with a twig.

Only when the body stayed still, like stone under frost, did she breathe out and turn toward Nidhogg.

“Finally done. I’m exhausted,” she murmured, voice like rain at dusk, as she dropped her half-dragon form.

Scales and Taint sloughed off her like molting snow, and Lilith nestled into the Black Dragon’s arms like a sleepy cat.

“Hold the complaints. We’re not finished,” Nidhogg began, a low rumble like distant thunder, but frost cut in.

The Ancestor of Ice Spirits burst in like a gust through a paper door, her tone sharp as winter air.

“Killing Thousand Legs only let Bosaklie’s Reaper Fragment remember its authority, like a buried bell finding its ring,” she said.

“Next, you go back, find that Reaper Fragment, bring it together with the others, and forge the Grim Reaper’s true body.

At least, that’s what Icarus told me,” her words fell like snowflakes, cold and sure.

“I’m helping you only this far,” she added, voice like a shutting gate. “Icarus’s errands are done; the rest isn’t mine.”

“But, for the sake of my vengeance you carried, I’ll send you back to Bosaklie, like a ferry across ice,” she said to Lilith.

“Alright. Thank you,” Lilith breathed, limp as silk in Nidhogg’s embrace, her reply faint as candle smoke.

“It’s nothing, nothing grave,” the Ancestor shook her head, hair fanning like frostweed, then returned to her white mop-head form.

She took to the air like a crane, swept up Thousand Legs’ body like bundled reeds, and lifted Black Dragon and Lilith.

They drifted through the Demon Realm’s yellow sands, the storm howling like wolves, toward Bosaklie, slow as a winter moon.

“So you vanished to handle that sudden Ice Spirit,” Satan said, eyes opening like knives flashing.

“And that spirit was tied to you. She invited you to deal with a Divine Fragment rampaging in the Demon Realm.

By doing that, we won’t get hammered by sandstorms?” Her words flicked like sparks. “How many episodes did I miss?”

“Not long. It all happened fast,” Little White Dragon shook her head, braids of thought falling like rain.

They’d left only hours ago, snow-light hours that didn’t allow a message to Satan, so they handled it themselves.

“Now Thousand Legs is dead. Bosaklie’s Reaper Fragment should be awake; I want to talk with it, like speaking to a river god.

I need more about the Grim Reaper,” her gaze steadied like a drawn bow.

“Afraid not,” Satan said, her head tilting like a pendulum. “Bosaklie’s Reaper Fragment never woke.

Instead, that Litt you brought, she’s a Reaper Fragment too, right? She dropped into a coma, like a lamp snuffed.

Abaddon couldn’t rouse her, shouting like a rooster at dawn. She’s in the palace, cared for by maids and Abaddon.

Since you’re back, go see what’s happening,” her voice carried like a bell.

“I understand,” Lilith’s heart lurched like startled birds, but she forced calm, a lake under wind.

She followed Satan’s steps, footfalls like beads on stone, into the lord’s palace of Bosaklie.

“Lilith!” Abaddon cried, a fawn bolting from cover, then grabbed her hand with hot fingers like coals.

He pulled Little White Dragon to Litt’s side, urgency snapping like brittle twigs.

“Look at Litt. What’s wrong with her?” Abaddon blurted, panic fluttering like moths; a young Demon was still a girl at heart.

Lilith was rattled too, nerves clinking like winter chimes, but she pressed them down, steady as a stone.

Little White Dragon drew a long breath, misting like dawn, and set her hand on Litt’s arm like moonlight.

She knew no mystic eastern medicine, but her Star Energy surged like a river of light within her.

She reached out with that starflow to check Litt, feeling for currents like a fisherman in night waters.

The moment she touched Litt, a pale-blue thread of starlight appeared in her sight, fine as spider silk.

Lilith followed the thread, eyes gliding like swallows, and saw that slender Star Energy tie Litt to another sleeping Reaper Fragment.

“Figures,” Little White Dragon said, her judgment settling like dust on a shelf.

“They’re fusing,” Lilith sat up, words falling like pebbles into still water.

“Litt and this unnamed one are both Reaper Fragments. After the Cataclysm, the Grim Reaper’s true body shattered into three pieces, scattered like broken stars.

Earlier, Litt devoured the Divine Fragment at the Ancient Tomb Stronghold, swallowing it like a crescent moon.

Now all three Divine Fragments of the Grim Reaper are here; with Bosaklie’s fragment regaining awareness, they may merge on their own into the true Reaper.”

“What should we do?” Abaddon’s voice trembled like a caged bird. “If they fuse, will Litt stop being Litt?”

“I don’t know,” Little White Dragon said, her head swaying like a willow; even she didn’t grasp their operating law.

“But I’ve got a way that might work,” she added, settling between Litt and the fragment like a bridge over water.

She stretched a small white hand, snow-pale, and touched the pale-blue chain of starlight like silk.

“The Grim Reaper, the Nameless One, asked me at the start of my road to find her three true fragments, like gathering moons.

I’ve collected them all. I should get one chance to speak with her on my terms,” Little White Dragon said.

“It’s like an RPG. When you finish the quest items, the NPC has to ask if you’ll turn them in, right?” Her grin flashed like a fox.

“Lilith’s saying things I don’t get again,” Abaddon muttered, annoyance popping like sparks.

“No worries. Just know I’m going to bargain with the Grim Reaper, ask her to preserve Litt’s mind,” Little White Dragon said.

She ruffled Abaddon’s hair, fingers light as wind through reeds, smile warm as a hearth.

“Lilith won’t be in danger, will she?” Abaddon looked up, his single eye glowing like a storm lantern with worry.

“Of course not. I’m practically that one’s half granddaughter; she won’t harm me,” Little White Dragon said, tapping his head like a drum.

“Easy, easy,” her voice hummed like a lullaby.

“Oh, and you,” Lilith glanced at Nidhogg with a smile like dawn. “Relax. I’ll be back soon; don’t worry.”

With that, Lilith pinched the thread of starlight like silk between fingers and sent her mind across, a swan slipping into dusk.