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Chapter 15: The Wisdom and the Dragon

  Months had passed since the chaos of Hime’s wrath. Life in the kingdom had finally settled into something resembling peace. The temples still preached Hana’s "wisdom" but she had begrudgingly accepted her fate. Haruka, still bitter about her training ban, had returned to the mountains, swearing vengeance on formal robes. Hime was back to her usual composed self, sipping tea and ensuring her sisters didn’t set the world on fire—again.

  But as winter arrived, trouble returned with it.

  Hana woke up feeling awful. Her head was heavy, her limbs weak, and worst of all, she felt the telltale warmth creeping up her body. At first, she tried to ignore it, pushing through her morning routine as if nothing was wrong. But the moment she sat down at the breakfast table, her vision blurred, and the world tilted.

  Hime immediately noticed. “Hana. You’re pale.”

  “I’m fine,” Hana muttered, even as she very obviously was not.

  Haruka, mid-bite into a roasted pheasant, narrowed her eyes. “You sure? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

  Hana waved them off. “Really, I—”

  She did not finish that sentence.

  Because the next thing she knew, she was face-down on the table.

  Haruka panicked. “SHE DIED.”

  Hime, far calmer, lifted Hana’s head and pressed a hand to her forehead. Her frown deepened. “Her fever’s already too high. This is worse than before.”

  The room exploded into chaos. The palace physicians were summoned, their hurried footsteps echoing through the halls as servants scrambled to bring cold compresses and medicines. The guards secured every exit, fully prepared after the last time Hana’s fever had led to city-wide panic. The barrier chamber was reinforced with multiple layers of protective spells, a desperate attempt to contain whatever magical havoc she might unleash.

  They were ready this time.

  Or so they thought.

  ---

  Nightfall came, and Hana’s fever only worsened. She lay in her bed, muttering nonsense in a feverish daze, her body burning hot despite the cool compresses placed against her skin. The royal healers hovered anxiously, taking turns keeping her stable.

  At first, her ramblings were harmless.

  “…Banana soup… divine truth…”

  Haruka snickered from her seat at the bedside. “She’s dreaming about banana soup again.”

  But then, the air around Hana shifted. A strange pulse of energy rippled through the room, and her body trembled. The flickering candlelight warped, and the soft glow of the enchanted lanterns dimmed. When she spoke again, her voice was layered—both her own and something else entirely.

  "Kyr’haan vek’tor... Azh’var himnaru…”

  Haruka tensed, glancing at Hime. “Uh. no not again.”

  The head healer took an uneasy step back. “Her energy is spiking—her power is reacting to the fever.”

  A deep hum vibrated through the palace, resonating like an unseen force was awakening. Hana’s fingers twitched.

  And then something answered her call.

  Outside, a column of dark energy erupted in the courtyard. The air crackled, a suffocating weight pressing down as something took form within the swirling void. The shape was unmistakable—a sword, black as the void, pulsing with an eerie, eternal flame. It hung suspended for a moment, as if deciding its purpose, before shooting forward like a falling star.

  Hime stood immediately. “STOP IT.”

  The royal guards and mages tried to intercept, but the sword passed through every barrier, cutting through layers of magic as if they were nothing. Every defensive spell shattered, and the moment it reached the palace, it moved with terrifying precision—straight toward Hana’s chamber.

  The moment her fingers curled around the hilt, her trembling ceased. The fever that had left her weak just moments ago no longer seemed to have a hold on her. The room pulsed with energy, magic thrumming beneath her skin.

  Then her eyes snapped open, glowing like molten gold

  The moment Hana’s fingers curled around the hilt of the black blade, the fever that had kept her bedridden vanished as if it had never existed. She sat up slowly, her grip tightening instinctively around the weapon as an unfamiliar surge of energy coursed through her veins. The air around her shimmered, and the faint glow of black fire flickered along the edges of the blade.

  Haruka, still seated by the bedside, leaned forward. “Oh. Oh, that’s not normal.”

  Hime took a measured step forward, eyes sharp with warning. “Hana. Put the sword down.”

  Hana didn’t respond. She blinked slowly, her glowing golden eyes unfocused, as though she wasn’t entirely present. The blade pulsed once, and a low, distorted whisper filled the room—not in words, but in a sensation, a call that sent a shiver down the spine of everyone present. The guards shifted uneasily, gripping the hilts of their weapons, though none dared to draw them.

  Then Hana moved.

  No one saw her legs shift, no one saw the preparation to leap.

  One second she was on the bed—

  The next, she was gone.

  A burst of black flames and raw energy exploded outward as she shot forward, phasing straight through the balcony doors. Glass shattered. The curtains caught fire. The palace erupted into chaos.

  Haruka coughed, waving away the smoke. “…Oh yeah, she’s gone feral again.”

  Hime, already in motion, shouted orders to the guards. “She’s heading north! DO NOT LOSE HER.”

  ---

  Down in the courtyard, the soldiers barely had time to register what was happening before a flash of black light shot past them, tearing through the open gates like a hurricane.

  And just like that, Hana had vanished into the mountains.

  It was the dead of night. The blizzard howled through the jagged peaks of the northern mountains, snow whipping through the air like frozen daggers. The landscape was harsh, treacherous, and unforgiving. No sane person would willingly run into these conditions—

  But Hana?

  Hana was not sane right now.

  She moved blindly, effortlessly, her bare feet gliding over the thick snow without sinking. Her sword pulsed in her grip, guiding her through the storm as if it had a will of its own. Despite the howling winds, she never slowed, never stumbled.

  And worst of all— Her eyes were still closed.

  Behind her, a desperate army of pursuers was struggling to keep up.

  Hime led the chase with unrelenting speed, her expression frozen in cold determination. Haruka followed right behind, laughing hysterically between deep breaths. “SHE’S—TOO FAST—OH GODS—”

  The royal guards were sprinting at full speed, their lungs burning, their legs aching. Some were on horseback. Others rode wyverns, desperately trying to cut off Hana’s escape.

  “YOUR HIGHNESS, STOP—”

  A guard barely dodged a black fireball that exploded next to him.

  “—SHE’S NOT LISTENING—”

  Another soldier tried to block her path—only for Hana to phase through him like a shadow, completely oblivious.

  “—WHAT DO WE EVEN DO?!—”

  One mage was sobbing. “SHE’S FIGHTING WITHOUT HER EYES OPEN!”

  Hime gritted her teeth. “We have to catch her before—”

  Before she could finish— The mountain shook. A roar ripped through the sky, ancient, deafening, and impossibly deep. And suddenly—

  The hunt became a battle.

  ---

  A beast as old as the mountains rose from the snowdrifts, its massive form unfolding like a waking god. Its dark emerald scales shimmered under the moonlight, its eyes burning with primal fury. A gust of power radiated from its colossal wings, sending waves of snow cascading down the slopes.

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  It had been asleep for centuries.

  And now, Hana had disturbed it.

  The soldiers stopped in horror. “A DRAGON—”

  Hime froze in place. “No.”

  Haruka’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gods. SHE’S GONNA FIGHT A DRAGON.”

  Hana, still standing calmly in the deep snow, tilted her head slightly.

  Then, as if responding to the dragon’s challenge— She gripped her sword with both hands.

  And she attacked first.

  With a single step, she vanished. The dragon barely had time to react before she reappeared above its massive head, swinging her sword downward in a powerful arc. A crescent of black fire erupted from the blade, slamming into the beast’s thick scales.

  The dragon roared, thrashing violently, the entire mountain trembling beneath its fury. It lashed out with its tail, a strike strong enough to shatter boulders—

  But Hana, eyes still closed, dodged effortlessly, twisting midair like a phantom.

  The soldiers watched in absolute disbelief.

  “SHE’S FIGHTING A LEGENDARY DRAGON—”

  “WITH HER EYES CLOSED—”

  “IS THIS A DREAM—”

  Haruka was practically vibrating. “THIS IS THE COOLEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN.”

  Hime, on the other hand, was rapidly losing her patience.

  “STOP WATCHING AND STOP HER!”

  Hana lunged again, completely unfazed, her movements swift and unnaturally precise. She weaved between the dragon’s claws, her sword carving streaks of flame through the frozen air. Every strike left scorch marks in the snow.

  The dragon, enraged, took a deep breath—gathering power. The air trembled as its throat burned with golden fire.

  Hime’s eyes widened. “She’s not dodging.”

  Haruka realized it at the same time. “OH NO—”

  The dragon unleashed a massive breath of fire. And Hana, still eerily calm, simply raised her sword. The black blade shimmered. The flames, roaring toward her like a tidal wave, were suddenly sucked into the sword’s edge, swallowed completely.

  Silence.

  The dragon blinked.

  The soldiers blinked.

  Haruka let out a low whistle. “Huh. That’s new.”

  Then Hana turned toward the dragon, her glowing eyes finally opening. Her voice, distant and dreamlike, spoke for the first time since this all began. “…Not enough.”

  And the dragon, a beast feared for centuries, took an instinctive step back. That was when Hime snapped. With a single motion, she disappeared. The next second, she reappeared behind Hana, seized her by the waist, and lifted her off the ground like an unruly cat.

  Hana blinked slowly. “Oh. You’re here.”

  Hime, her patience gone, didn’t answer.

  She simply carried her sister back down the mountain, completely ignoring the stunned onlookers. Haruka, watching from a distance, doubled over in laughter. “I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE WAS ABOUT TO SOLO A DRAGON.”

  The dragon, still standing in place, seemed genuinely confused.

  Hime, walking through the snow with Hana dangling from her arms, did not care.

  This madness was over. For now.

  ---

  Mountain Range - The Way Back

  The journey back to the palace was eerily quiet. Hime, still carrying Hana in her arms like an oversized sack of trouble, marched through the thick snow without saying a single word. The storm had calmed, leaving only the crunch of footsteps as the soldiers followed at a cautious distance. Haruka, still reeling from what she had just witnessed, kept sneaking glances at Hana, who had finally stopped struggling and now rested limply in Hime’s grip.

  Hana sighed dreamily, her golden eyes half-lidded as she stared up at the cloudy sky. "The dragon was beautiful," she murmured.

  Haruka grinned. "Yeah, especially when it almost roasted you alive."

  Hime’s grip tightened slightly. "Do not encourage her."

  The journey might have continued in silence—until a gust of wind rushed past them, heavy with magic. The entire party froze. The energy in the air shifted, thick with an ancient presence that pressed down on their chests like a physical weight. The horses stirred uneasily, the wyverns let out low growls, and the torches flickered unnaturally.

  Then, from the darkness beyond the cliffs, a voice echoed—deep, powerful, and amused.

  "You are far more interesting than I expected, girl."

  Hime stopped walking. She turned her head slowly, her golden eyes narrowing. A massive shadow loomed at the mountain’s edge, two glowing emerald eyes piercing through the night. Onikazan, the Black Flame Tyrant, had not left. The guards instantly reached for their weapons.

  "STAND DOWN," Hime ordered.

  The dragon remained still, his form partially hidden in the darkness of the forest. He made no move to attack, no sign of hostility. Instead, he merely watched Hana.

  Hana blinked lazily at him, still half-dazed. "...Oh. You’re still here."

  The dragon let out a low rumble, something between a laugh and a growl. "The sword called for you. I expected nothing more than another foolish mortal to claim it and perish under its power. But you…" His piercing gaze flickered to the black sword still clutched in Hana’s hands. "You are different."

  Haruka whistled. "Wow. She woke up an ancient dragon, stole its sword, and survived. New record."

  Hime shot her a look before turning back to the dragon. "She is not in her right mind. If she offended you, we will compensate accordingly."

  Onikazan’s eyes gleamed. "Offended? No, little human— I am entertained."

  Hana, still being held hostage in Hime’s arms, tilted her head. "So… what now? Are you going to follow me?"

  Onikazan let out a slow chuckle. "No, little human. You may wield Kurohazan, but I am not your pet. My place remains in the mountains. I will watch." His gaze flickered toward the darkened forest. "For now."

  Hana blinked. "...You’re just going to stalk me from the shadows?"

  The dragon did not answer immediately. His wings shifted, scattering snow into the air as he turned his gaze toward the distant palace. "You have awakened something long thought lost. Whether you remain worthy… we shall see."

  Then, with a powerful gust of wind, Onikazan’s massive form began to fade into the shadows of the woods. Within moments, the glowing emerald of his eyes disappeared, and the presence that had weighed so heavily on the air was gone.

  The guards let out quiet, relieved sighs.

  Haruka huffed. "Great. Now she’s got a dragon overlord watching her every move."

  Hana, despite everything, grinned. She had gained a sword, the attention of an ancient being, and an entirely new set of problems. And she couldn’t wait to see what happened next.

  ---

  The True Form

  The journey back to the palace remained tense, but the air had shifted. Even though Onikazan had vanished into the mountains, the weight of his presence still lingered. The soldiers whispered amongst themselves, speaking in hushed tones about the dragon’s words. Some were still shaken. Others seemed oddly reverent.

  Hime had been carrying Hana this entire time, but as they continued down the mountain, her steps slowed. With a quiet sigh, she glanced toward Haruka. “Take her.”

  Haruka blinked. “What?”

  “You’re stronger. It’ll be easier for you,” Hime said simply. Without waiting for an argument, she shifted Hana forward and practically dumped her onto Haruka’s back.

  Haruka barely had time to adjust before Hana slumped entirely against her. “…Oh. Wow. She’s out cold.”

  Hime dusted off her sleeves. “That’s your problem now.”

  Haruka snorted. “Sure, just toss her at me like a sack of rice. I love being everyone’s transportation.”

  Hana, only half-conscious, muttered against her shoulder, “You’re warm…”

  Haruka froze. “Okay, you’re weirdly affectionate when you’re half-dead.”

  Hime ignored them both and kept walking.

  The journey might have continued in silence—until Hana stirred, shifting against Haruka’s back. Her fingers twitched slightly as if something was calling to her. She exhaled slowly.

  “…You’re not just a sword, are you?” she murmured.

  Haruka frowned. “Are you talking to the sword?”

  Hana didn’t respond. She was already too focused on the weapon in her grasp. Even in the dim torchlight, Kurohazan gleamed unnaturally, its black metal rippling as though it were alive. The longer she held it, the more she felt it—something beyond just a weapon.

  Something waiting.

  Then, without warning, the blade shivered.

  The shape of the sword melted, black metal folding in on itself, fire dimming. Before anyone could react, it collapsed, shifted—

  —and suddenly, Hana was holding something very soft and very alive.

  A creature.

  A small, sleek-bodied dragon now rested in her arms where the sword had once been. Its fur was deep black, almost like liquid shadow, with streaks of glowing ember-like lines running along its body. Its narrow eyes, sharp and almost cat-like, stared up at her with quiet intelligence. Small, curved horns protruded from its head, and its tail flicked lazily behind it, faint traces of dark fire trailing in its wake.

  Hana and the creature stared at each other.

  Then Hana smile, her voice barely above a whisper, muttered, “Oh gods. It’s adorable.”

  Haruka nearly tripped over herself. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!”

  Hime stopped walking. The entire procession behind them halted.

  The soldiers, who had already been through enough tonight, gawked.

  Hana, slowly cradling the tiny dragon, felt something deep and ancient settle in her chest.

  Kurohazan—the sentient blade, the legendary sword of shadows—had a true form.

  And it had chosen her.

  The tiny dragon let out a quiet huff, its small body curling against her as if it had always belonged there.

  Haruka pointed at it accusingly. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S ADORABLE?! THAT WAS A SWORD FIVE SECONDS AGO!”

  Hana gently stroked the soft fur. The dragon flicked its tail, clearly enjoying the attention.

  “I don’t see the problem.”

  Hime, for the first time in a long while, actually looked exhausted. “…It never ends with you, does it?”

  Hana beamed with the best smile she has. “Nope.”

  Haruka threw up her hands. “Great. Now she’s got a cursed pet.”

  The small dragon lifted its head, staring at Haruka for a long moment. Then, very deliberately, it hissed.

  Haruka recoiled. “IT HATES ME ALREADY?!”

  Hana giggled. “Oh, I like you.”

  She gently lifted the tiny dragon, staring into its glowing ember-like eyes.

  “…I think I’ll call you Kuro-chan.”

  The dragon blinked once. Then, in a very cat-like manner, it slowly closed its eyes and nestled deeper into her arms.

  Haruka looked horrified. “Oh no. It likes the name.”

  The soldiers were still speechless. Hime sighed deeply and started walking again. As the procession moved forward once more, Hana cradled her new companion, completely at peace.

  She had gained a living weapon, a mysterious companion, and the loyalty of an ancient blade. And for the first time in a long while— She felt like this was just the beginning.

  Hi Kryssa Here! if you enjoy the story or have any suggestion, question, theories, and favorite moments please let me know in the comment section!

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  I Hope you enjoy the story!

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