Southwest of the continent where the Three Kingdoms lay sprawled a sea riddled with reefs and tiny islands. The seabed here was treacherous—shallow patches barely ten meters deep plunged abruptly to hundreds. Ships often met disaster in these waters. Now, the Empire’s last forty vessels of the White Dragon Fleet hid among them.
「......」
Duke Kein watched his crew’s spirits sink lower with each passing hour. Freshwater had nearly run out since yesterday; in two days, they’d have none. Rations wouldn’t last a week. And he had no solution.
「Lord Keen… will we die here?」
His usually composed aide whispered the question, voice tight with worry. He dared not speak louder—fear of sparking panic that could shatter the fleet instantly.
「...No. The situation is dire, but hope remains until the final breath. Once despair takes root… death becomes inevitable.」
「Just like back then…」
The aide gazed at the demoralized sailors below, then out at the endless sea.
「Back then, we had only three ships against twenty. We survived because reinforcements came… Will anyone come for us this time?」
「......」
Duke Kein didn’t answer. Reinforcements? Impossible. Only three forces roamed these waters now: the Empire’s shattered remnants, the Fire Eagle Duchy and Kingdom’s combined fleet of over 320 ships… and the 118 vessels of former allies who’d turned traitor. This was no coincidence. The Marshal’s death reeked of foul play.
A conspiracy was unfolding—a calculated one-two punch. After the Marshal fell, events had snapped into place like a staged play. Everyone moved like puppets on strings: Hissar’s betrayal, uprisings flaring across noble estates… The naval reinforcements meant to crush the Kingdom’s fleet had instead switched sides mid-battle. No supplies. Only ambushes. Heavy losses. Without his loyal officers fighting desperately to break through, he’d have drowned in these waters.
No… capture would’ve been worse. Torture to extract the Empire’s naval secrets.
「They’ll come… If we hold fast, miracles happen.」
Kein patted his aide’s shoulder and retreated to his cabin.
「A miracle… I pray a god exists. One who might descend here… and save us.」
————
At the Imperial Capital’s Arcane Academy, within a mage’s tower…
Jumper—the dragonkin who now served as Pipe Captain’s pet, appearing as a girl of ten—crouched beside a charred lump of flesh. Moments ago, this "person" had materialized out of nowhere, only to be reduced to ash by her magic. Barely human-shaped now.
「What a weirdo. Jumping out to kill people? Definitely a bad guy! But… this works for me. Heh…」
Jumper stood, drawing back Ludingernan—the soul-split duplicate she’d crafted. Only dragonkin, with their immense souls, could survive such magic. Humans would shatter from the agony of tearing their essence apart… or the even stranger sensation of reabsorbing a fragment. This was a dragon’s birthright. No human could replicate it.
「Now my sudden disappearance makes sense… With assassins lurking, Ludingernan’s "death" is plausible. Perfect cover to… ahem! To locate my master, report the capital’s chaos, and pledge my unwavering loyalty to help him conquer the realm! Of course… such devotion deserves reward. Goldfish… I *will* have them!」
「Dragon Tongue Magic… Causality…」 *（A stream of draconic chants）*
She couldn’t pinpoint Pipe Captain’s location. Using a communication puppet might get her assigned chores—ruining her goldfish plans! Better to find her master first, *then* accept orders. His generosity would surely earn her a treat. *Heh heh heh… Truly, I am the cleverest of dragonkin.*
Invisible ripples spread as luminous rings. To Jumper’s eyes, threads of causality shimmered in the air—eternal bonds woven by fate itself. Unlike fleeting scents, causality never lied. It could trace connections across continents… or reveal those tied to the one she sought.
「Strange… Many in the capital share ties to my master. All human women… but their threads are faint. Hmm? *This* one… Her thread branches oddly. Great danger approaches her swiftly. Since her bond to my master runs deep… aiding her might earn his praise. And goldfish…」
Jumper dissolved into the wind, cloaked in air magic, racing toward Mary.
————
Before the Duke’s manor gates, Langzul gripped his dagger, facing a dozen foes. His clothes hung in tatters, slashed by blades. Blood soaked the steps where he stood—one arm missing. Only sheer will kept him upright. His body was failing.
「You’re a brave man,」 said the cloaked leader below. 「I have healing scrolls. Surrender, and I’ll mend your wounds.」
「Your offer is kind… But I swore to protect the Duke’s family. Harm Lady Franlen or Miss Mary… and you’ll step over my corpse.」
Langzul tightened his grip on the dagger, glaring down at the armored figures. The leader sighed, raising a hand—then chopping it down.
Bows twanged. Arrows flew. Cowardly. If Langzul dodged, the shafts would strike Franlen and Mary behind him. He couldn’t move. His dagger couldn’t block them all. *So be it. Let my body shield them.* Gods… if you exist… save them. At least save the ladies.
*Thud. Thud.* Arrows punched into Langzul’s chest. He never stepped back. He died standing on the steps—only his drooping head and limp arm betraying his end.
「Mister Langzul! Waaah… Why…?」 Mary sobbed, staring at his back. Franlen hugged her briefly, then gently pushed her aside. She rose, calm despite the dozen elite warriors before her.
「I am Franlen Heltschimlem. Wife of General Wargry. Mother of Keane. As nobility… I request parley.」
「Madam… Is parley still possible? Come with us. We’ll spare you if your son surrenders to the Kingdom.」
「My husband lived as a loyal noble. I’ve always been proud—of his honor, his greatness. How could I stain that legacy after his death? I cannot fight for him… but I can die for him.」
「...STOP HER! NOW!」
「Too late, Captain… Look.」
Franlen pressed a ring on her pinky. Azure flames erupted, swallowing her whole. In seconds, only ash remained where she’d stood.
「Lady Franlen! No!... Tch… Damn it…」
「A woman worthy of respect. But—seize the girl! She’s tied to Keane. Knock her out!」 *（One key hostage is gone. We cannot lose the other.）*
「Yes, sir!」
Two leather-clad warriors lunged for Mary…
*Franlen sacrificed herself for honor. As nobility, I must too—* Mary reached for Langzul’s dagger. But her body froze. *What?!* She looked up. The charging warriors hung motionless mid-stride. Time itself seemed suspended.
「Good evening, mortals. I am Jumper… A name bestowed by the great Netherlord Pipe Master himself. This young lady shares profound causality with my master. I cannot permit her harm.」
A girl of twelve floated against the moonlit sky. Emerald hair framed delicate features—a porcelain doll brought to life. Tiny horns peeked through her locks. Her green-scaled robe fluttered as she gazed down, eyes sharp with divine disdain.
「You dare threaten one bound to my master? Foolish… *Die.*」 *（Draconic chants）*
Lightning crackled around the child, casting her face in eerie blue-white light. A flicker of joy danced in her eyes.
「Dragon Tongue Magic… Thunder Cage.」
Bolts lanced down, splitting to encircle every assassin. They contracted—searing voltage warping the air.
「GYAAAHHH—!!」
「URK—!!」
「AAAAH—!!」
Smoking corpses collapsed, silent.
「Mortals who squander life… deserve no pity.」
Jumper drifted to Mary, flicking a finger. The invisible bonds shattered. Mary crumpled to the ground.
「Come. This place is unsafe… I’ll take you to my master.」
Before Mary could resist, Jumper swept her into a whirlwind. The girl leapt after her—and both vanished on the wind.
