Note: The past timeline - Three years before Ryoto and team rescues Aem and friends. ❤️ - represented by this symbol

The present timeline - Ryoto and team rescues Aem and friends. 🟥 - represented by this symbol

The future timeline - one year after Ryoto and team had rescued Aem and friends. ♦️ - represented by this symbol

***

❤️...

Under the azure sky, Konosa's stomach growled insistently, breaking the peaceful atmosphere that enveloped him and Remeshi. "Huh. I am pretty hungry," Konosa remarked, his gaze drifting upward.

Remeshi, recalling their recent meal, couldn't help but express his confusion. "How? We just had food a while back..." he said, puzzled.

Konosa winced, complaining, "Also, the sun hurts my eyes."

"Then please stop gazing directly at the sun, Senpai," Remeshi chided gently.

"Right," Konosa acknowledged, turning his attention away from the glaring sun. "Straight. Let's head to that restaurant over there," he suggested, pointing towards a nearby eatery.

"But I can't possibly be hungry after all that," Remeshi protested, gesturing towards Konosa.

"That was dinner, and this is breakfast," Konosa explained matter-of-factly, slipping his hands back into his jacket pockets.

"Ah, yes...," Remeshi acquiesced, realizing the logic behind Konosa's hunger.

Konosa couldn't help but express his frustration about the previous day's events. "Well, about yesterday. It was amazing that you decided to help them, but in the process, I lost my food. One of them stepped over it while we were battling. So, thank you so much," he said sarcastically.

Remeshi, taken aback, retorted, "Huh? How's that my fault?"

"You want to argue about that, kid?" Konosa challenged, his tone turning serious.

"No... Senpai," Remeshi conceded.

Suddenly, Konosa playfully grabbed Remeshi by the head and lifted him off his feet, causing Remeshi to struggle in discomfort. "Hehe. You're so tiny," Konosa teased before gently setting him down again.

"That hurt, Senpai," Remeshi complained, rubbing his head.

"Of course, it should have," Konosa remarked, unapologetic.

Remeshi questioned Konosa's violent behavior, to which Konosa responded with a mischievous grin, "You want me to lift you up again? You are just so tiny."

"I am not tiny. You are a giant," Remeshi retorted, trying to assert himself.

Konosa sighed, reminiscing about Ishoya's decision to entrust Remeshi to him. "I don't know why sister entrusted you to me. What was she thinking? I can't even take care of myself. What do I even do...?" he mused, shaking his head in disbelief.

Suddenly, Remeshi interrupted Konosa's thoughts, pointing towards a crowd gathered in front of a fancy restaurant. "Senpai, look," he exclaimed, drawing Konosa's attention.

Konosa chuckled slightly at the sight. "Huh. Woah, is there a sale?" he joked as a man approached them, handing them colorful pamphlets.

Curious, Konosa read the pamphlet, his eyes widening in excitement. "Uh... Free food and a dragon story ceremony," he read aloud, his excitement growing. "Free food? Free food!" he exclaimed gleefully.

Remeshi, ever the voice of reason, questioned Konosa's sudden enthusiasm. "Uh... Senpai? You planning to go there?" he asked, unsure.

"I will go anywhere where there is free food," Konosa declared with a smirk, his hunger driving his decision.

"Hah..." Remeshi chuckled, amused by Konosa's single-mindedness.

As they made their way to the restaurant, Konosa's anticipation grew, and he voiced his determination to secure a spot. "If they say that only a hundred or twenty-eight people can go, I will kill them," he proclaimed, his fist raised in determination.

Alarmed, Remeshi tried to calm his companion. "Senpai, Senpai! Calm down. I don't think that will happen," he reassured, hoping to diffuse the tension.

As they waited in line under the scorching sun, time seemed to drag on endlessly. Konosa's patience wore thin, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. Yet, finally, they reached the entrance, and Konosa breathed a sigh of relief.

"You are safe. Thanks to your prayers. And I'm happy we have a place to sit here," Konosa remarked, slapping Remeshi's back gently.

"I am glad," Remeshi sighed, grateful for the respite from the relentless heat.

As Remeshi and Konosa stepped into the restaurant, they were greeted by walls painted in a warm saffron hue adorned with intricate carvings. Dragons soared majestically, breathing fire, while men and women clad in elegant kimonos brandished swords in graceful poses. The ambiance was enchanting, evoking a sense of ancient lore and mystery.

The waitresses, dressed in red aprons and flowing white frocks, bustled about, placing plush purple cushions on glossy crystal tiles alongside tables crafted from rich brown wood. Each setting was meticulously arranged, inviting guests to relax and indulge in the culinary delights awaiting them. Amidst the elegant décor, they noticed a stage at the far end of the room, its presence beckoning with anticipation.

As white curtains veiled the stage, Remeshi's curiosity piqued, prompting him to inquire about the ornate inscriptions adorning the walls. "Senpai, what are those inscriptions on the walls?" he asked, gesturing towards the captivating carvings.

Konosa, ever the knowledgeable guide, pointed out one of the depictions. "That is the depiction of the story of the dragon riders," he explained.

"Dragon riders?" Remeshi echoed, intrigued by the unfamiliar term.

Konosa nodded, delving into the lore. "Yeah. One of the first species that emerged on our land. These depictions tell us their story, their abilities, how they were special, and how they came to vanish."

"They vanished..." Remeshi murmured, his gaze tracing the poignant narrative etched into the walls.

Konosa elaborated further, acknowledging the commonality of war as a catalyst for extinction. "Yeah. There was a war. That's a very common reason for extinction, isn't it?"

"Relatable," Remeshi agreed, his thoughts drifting to the parallels between the ancient tale and their own reality.

Konosa observed Remeshi's contemplative expression, a hint of curiosity sparking within him. "Are you maybe recalling bits and pieces of who and what you are? Relatable?" he mused, prompting Remeshi to ponder his own identity.

Their conversation shifted to a regal figure depicted on the walls - a king seated on a throne, clutching a glass jar while resting his legs atop a dragon. Remeshi sought clarification, pointing towards the enigmatic figure. "Who's the one with the crown?" he inquired.

Konosa explained, though cautious not to rush to judgment. "The king. I'm in no position to conclude anything, but it is said that he is the reason why dragon riders were wiped out."

"He was a bad king then," Remeshi speculated, his empathy extending to the ancient tale.

Konosa urged caution, reminding Remeshi of the complexities inherent in historical interpretation. "I don't know. None of us were there. He is the reason why dragon riders existed in the first place. How can we judge him based on baseless stories?" he reasoned, encouraging Remeshi to consider multiple perspectives.

Curiosity piqued, Remeshi sought to understand the central figure of the upcoming ceremony. "At least tell me who is Sekigo Senma," he requested, eager to unravel another layer of the ancient tale.

Konosa, though admitting his own limited knowledge, shared what he knew of the legendary warrior. "Well, I don't know much myself, but he was the warrior who saved the dragon riders," he explained.

Remeshi's enthusiasm bubbled over, though Konosa noted his somewhat morbid interpretation. "Hehe. So he killed the king?" Remeshi speculated, his imagination running wild.

"Eh? Why do you sound so happy? He didn't kill anyone. He just saved them from misfortune," Konosa clarified, highlighting Sekigo Senma's heroic deeds.

"...he was a nice and kind person then," Remeshi concluded, his perception of the legendary figure shifting towards admiration.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of a waitress, her face concealed behind a red hood as she expertly laid out an array of dishes before them. "Thank you," Remeshi acknowledged with a respectful bow, marveling at her impeccable service.

As they settled in to enjoy their meal, Remeshi couldn't help but reflect on the seamless blend of tradition and hospitality that permeated the restaurant. "She must have memorized the ways on how to treat customers, I think," he mused, appreciating the attention to detail and dedication of the staff.

As anticipation filled the air, a commanding voice boomed from backstage, echoing through the restaurant and commanding attention. "Please draw the curtains back! Wear your costumes!" The bustling activity of the patrons came to a halt as everyone obediently settled onto their cushions, eager for the performance to begin. Amidst the quiet anticipation, a waitress near the board caught the attention of a man in a black suit and leather shoes.

"I have to manage everything," the man grumbled in a voice that grated on the ears, his slicked-back hair glistening under the lights as he strode towards the stage. Remeshi couldn't help but wonder aloud, "Is he the owner?"

"I am guessing... yeah?" Konosa replied, casting a glance at the man. The waitress nearby nodded, confirming their suspicion.

Observing the chaos unfolding on stage, Remeshi ventured to strike up a conversation with the waitress. "Looks like there's a lot of work to do to put up a play?" he inquired, trying to make small talk. The waitress nodded in agreement, prompting Remeshi to offer an awkward smile in return.

The man, identified as Killow, barked out orders with rapid-fire intensity, his instructions leaving no room for error. "Move it a bit to the right!" he commanded, his eyes fixed on the stage board. The waitress scurried to comply, adjusting the setup as directed.

"No, no! That's too much!" Killow's frustration mounted as he continued to micromanage every detail.

"Yes, master," the staff responded obediently, accustomed to the demanding nature of their employer.

As Killow's directives flew like bullets, Konosa couldn't help but express his disdain. "Oh gosh. I wouldn't work for someone like him. He needs to calm down... he is so weird," he remarked between bites of his fish roll.

"No... you are the weird one, Senpai," Remeshi teased gently, acknowledging Konosa's unique quirks.

Their banter was interrupted by Killow's continued tirade of commands, leaving Konosa to reflect on his longing for his sister's presence despite which he continued devouring the dishes in front of him.

"Ah! Bright food-obsessed light," Remeshi joked, shielding his eyes with his hands.

"If you say anymore, I will kill you," Konosa threatened half-heartedly, his eyes narrowing in jest.

"Yes, sir..." Remeshi acquiesced with a playful grin.

Meanwhile, backstage, the atmosphere was equally chaotic as Killow continued to assert his authority. "Get a grip, everyone!" he bellowed, his arms flailing about in agitation.

Directing his attention to one of the waitresses, Killow singled her out for a leading role in the play. "Hey you! Main wench," he called, beckoning her to follow him backstage. Another waitress approached her with a bag containing her costume and props, emphasizing the importance of the occasion.

"Do not put on your hood, please. This is an important event," the waitress cautioned, underscoring the significance of the moment as the performance drew near.

As time passed, the stage gradually transformed, revealing a serene and idyllic scene that enveloped the hall in a sense of tranquility. Lush flowers, verdant trees, and verdant bushes adorned the stage, creating a picturesque backdrop for the unfolding narrative. Staff members, now in character as members of the public, meandered around the stage with baskets in hand, adding to the immersive atmosphere.

Grocery men and store owners animatedly promoted their wares, their voices blending harmoniously with the soft murmur of the crowd. Women with scarves draped elegantly around their heads perused the offerings, their eyes alight with curiosity and interest.

Amidst the bustling activity, children frolicked and played, their laughter ringing out like bells in the air. Passing a spot ball amongst themselves, they dashed and darted across the stage with infectious energy. However, their exuberance inadvertently led to an accident as the ball struck the head of a bald man nearby.

The man, taken aback, rubbed his greasy scalp in irritation before unleashing a tirade of admonishment at the giggling children. Undeterred, the youngsters quickly scattered, their laughter trailing behind them as they vanished from the scene.

"Wow. This is so beautiful!" Remeshi exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the enchanting spectacle unfolding before him.

Behind the stage, the narrator cleared her throat, commanding the attention of the audience as she prepared to set the stage for the upcoming performance. "Today, we will be showcasing for you the world-famous story of the legendary Sekigo Senma, the dragon rider warrior. We hope you enjoy it," she announced, her voice carrying the promise of an enthralling tale to come.

[Scene: somewhere in the deep ends of the woods.
Location unknown.
At the same time ❤️]

As the dense forest enveloped them in shadow, three figures moved stealthily through the underbrush, their voices hushed as they plotted their next move.

"I saw her run through the woods. She must have entered the city," the first man declared, slicing through the branches with determination.

"You're right. She must have entered the city," another agreed, his footsteps echoing behind the first.

"It's possible," a third nodded, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Then why do we wait! It's almost noon already," the first man announced impatiently, his urgency palpable.

"You are right. We cannot let her get away with this so easily. Not when we have come this far," the man behind him echoed, his resolve unwavering.

"Yeah! Let us get her, and then we can have the reward for ourselves," the third man chimed in eagerly, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Yeah. The queen will be glad," they said in unison, their voices dripping with greed.

"She might even make us her personal guards," one of them mused, envisioning the rewards that awaited them.

"You sound very evil right now," a voice interjected, cutting through the sinister atmosphere.

"You do not sound less evil yourself," the reply came, laden with sarcasm.

The dark shadows snickered amongst themselves as they continued their trek through the dim, foreboding forest. Light rarely penetrated the dense canopy, casting an eerie gloom over the landscape. This was the forest at the end of Kamakura, known for its unhealthy aura and its role as a haven for criminals of all kinds.

Forest rangers patrolled the area diligently, keeping watch not only for wild animals but also for human intruders. Thieves, smugglers, and other criminals often used the forest as a gateway into the city, exploiting its dark depths for their own nefarious purposes.

Suddenly, a voice interrupted their clandestine conversation, drawing their attention to a young man approaching them. He appeared to be in his early twenties, his expression curious as he addressed the three shadows.

"Hello, mister. Who are you?" the ranger inquired, his gaze shifting from one figure to the next.

"A forest ranger..." one of the shadows sighed, stepping forward to address the newcomer.

"We are looking for our comrade who got lost somewhere here," the man explained, producing a piece of paper from his pocket.

"Look. Seen her anywhere nearby?" he asked, extending the paper towards the ranger for inspection.

"Huh. Is she a friend?" the ranger inquired, studying the document with interest.

"Close," the man replied cryptically, his eyes scanning the ranger's face for any sign of recognition.

"Well, I saw a girl. But I am not sure if it was her," the ranger admitted, handing back the paper to the man.

"Oh? Was she wearing a long hairpin? A very unique design perhaps?" the man pressed, his tone eager.

"A hairpin, you say? Yeah, she did. Indeed, it was a very unique one. She is exhausted, so we have her sheltered here in our headquarters," the young ranger replied, scratching his head in bemusement.

[Location: Kamakura market.(Scene: the restaurant where Remeshi and Konosa were) ❤️]

The narrator's voice resonated through the air, commanding the attention of all who listened. "Now," the voice intoned, "this incident occurred thousands and thousands of years ago and scarred the dragon riders for all their life."

As the narrative unfolded, the scene shifted to a peaceful village nestled amidst verdant fields and winding rivers. The villagers led simple lives, with most families engaged in farming while the women visited the grocers in the afternoons. Children frolicked in the fields, attending schools that opened at nine in the morning and closed at three in the afternoon. In the evenings, parents treated their young ones to sweets from the local shops, infusing the village with a sense of warmth and community.

Yet, the village's history was marred by a darker past. Long ago, it had been nothing more than a barren wasteland, overlooked and forgotten by the world. It was a young man who had dared to make this desolate land his home, gradually attracting others to settle there. They christened their newfound haven "First Magic," a testament to the purity of its untouched landscape and pristine rivers-the first magic they had ever known.

Despite their efforts to cultivate and protect their land, the villagers were subjected to discrimination and scorn from outsiders. They were branded as outcasts, denied entry to the central hall, the market, and even the festivities that celebrated life. Instead, they were forced to hide away in their homes, shunned by society and labeled as "suede people."

Amidst this atmosphere of prejudice, a ray of hope emerged in the form of a young woman and her three siblings. Exhausted and burdened with luggage, she stumbled into First Magic, where she was met with kindness and hospitality from a compassionate young man-the same man who had discovered the land. Despite the rumors and misconceptions surrounding him, he proved to be nothing short of a benevolent soul, offering the weary travelers respite and comfort.

Their chance encounter blossomed into a deep and genuine connection, transcending societal barriers and expectations. As the young woman revealed herself to be a princess, she defied the stereotypes associated with royalty, treating the villagers with respect and dignity. Slowly, love flourished between her and the young man, culminating in a joyous union that united them as king and queen-the revered rulers of First Magic.

Their wedding, though devoid of outside pomp and grandeur, was a celebration of love and unity among the villagers. The newly crowned monarchs endeavored to uplift their people, fostering an atmosphere of acceptance and inclusion within the village. Over time, the once-discriminated "dragon riders" embraced their unique abilities, rising to prominence as one of the most formidable species in the land.

However, their newfound peace was shattered by the onset of a devastating war-a conflict that ravaged the once-tranquil village, leaving destruction and despair in its wake. Homes crumbled, lives were lost, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood. In the midst of the chaos, the queen, wielding her swords with ferocity, sought to defend her people against the onslaught of their enemies.

With her baby in her belly, she fought tirelessly, her determination unwavering in the face of adversity. Yet, even her courage was not enough to stem the tide of violence that threatened to engulf them all. A cruel twist of fate intervened, as a blade found its mark, piercing through the queen's abdomen and leaving her writhing in agony.

The scene unfolded in a grotesque tableau of despair and anguish, as the queen's cries mingled with the roar of flames and the wails of the wounded.

The king, Liam, screamed his wife's name, his voice echoing through the chaos of battle. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as he rushed to Alvia's side, her form wracked with pain.

"ALVIA!" he cried out, his anguish palpable as he beheld his beloved wife's suffering.

"Alvia! Why? Why?" Liam's voice cracked with emotion as he struggled to comprehend the senseless violence that had befallen them. "After all we've done for this kingdom. After all the times we've spent together... why, Alvia..."

Remeshi, his face stained with tears, whispered softly, "Mother of an unborn child..." His voice trembled with grief as he watched the tragic scene unfolding before him.

"You monsters! You damn monsters!" Liam's voice rang out, filled with rage and sorrow. "How can you envy someone so much that you would kill them?"

"Liam... our child... could have been the next king," the waitress, portraying Alvia, spoke softly through her pain. "He... would have been like you... kind and caring. It would have been... wonderful."

"No, Alvia! No!" Liam's heart-wrenching cry filled the air as he watched helplessly, his hand stained with his wife's blood.

As flames raged around them and the battle continued to rage, Liam's eyes hardened with determination. With a grim resolve, he gently laid Alvia's head on the ground and rose to his feet, his movements slow and pained.

"Liam..." the narrator's voice began, a somber tone underscoring the gravity of the moment. "His rage consumed him, fueling the fury that coursed through his veins. The sword, once sworn to protect, now thirsted for vengeance as he unleashed his wrath upon their enemies."

Liam's relentless assault turned the tide of battle, driving back the invaders and securing victory for his people. Yet, even as the dust settled, his gaze remained fixed on Alvia, her smile a bittersweet reminder of all that had been lost.

The king's cries echoed through the chaos until a citizen approached him, offering hope amidst the despair. "King Liam, Queen Alvia can be saved if we act swiftly. Her wounds can be treated."

"Please! Please, save her!" Liam pleaded, his desperation evident as he beseeched the man for help.

With resolve, the citizen assured the king, "We will do everything in our power to save her, Your Majesty. Please, stand tall."

And so, Alvia's treatment began, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. Yet, tragedy struck once more as news arrived that the unborn child had been severely wounded, forcing a devastating choice upon them.

As crystals of misfortune showered down upon them, Liam's heart broke, his grief overwhelming. But Alvia's resolve remained unyielding, her sacrifice a testament to her unwavering love for her husband,her child, and her people.

As the lights in the hall flickered back on and the actors bowed to the audience, the weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air.

Konosa and Remeshi sat in silence, reflecting on the poignant performance they had just witnessed. Tears still glistened in Remeshi's eyes as he wiped them away, moved by the tragic tale of Queen Alvia and King Liam.

"That Liam... was Sekigo Senma's father... or grandfather? I don't know," Konosa remarked, breaking the silence as he leaned back on his hands.

Remeshi nodded, his thoughts still lingering on the heart-wrenching story. "That was beautiful," he murmured, his voice tinged with emotion. "I don't know why, but Queen Alvia's death seems so familiar."

Konosa nodded in agreement. "Right. I didn't know about all this either," he admitted, his gaze drifting to the cushion beneath him.

"Yeah," Remeshi replied softly, a sense of melancholy settling over him.

As they contemplated the tragedy that had unfolded before them, Konosa reflected on his limited knowledge of Sekigo Senma. "Yeah. I know about Sekigo Senma a little bit. But I didn't know there was such a sad story behind all of this. It must be related to sir Senma."

"Should be," Remeshi agreed, his mind still reeling from the emotional impact of the performance.

Their thoughts were interrupted by the female narrator, who addressed the audience and instructed them to stand. Confusion flickered across Remeshi's face as he glanced at Konosa, seeking an explanation for the unexpected directive.

"What is this, Senpai?" Remeshi whispered, his curiosity piqued.

"I told you I have no idea," Konosa whispered back, equally perplexed by the sudden turn of events.

Following the narrator's instructions, Remeshi stood and mirrored the posture of the waiter beside her, placing his right palm on the left side of his chest and his left hand behind his back. As the narrator led the audience in a solemn tribute to the dragon riders, Remeshi listened intently, his eyes widening in surprise at the mention of their sacrifices.

Meanwhile, Konosa speculated on the restaurant's connection to the dragon riders, recognizing that they seemed to possess intricate knowledge of their history and traditions. "Oh, I didn't know about this either," he admitted to Remeshi. "I think this restaurant was a part of the dragon riders' island. They seem to know every single detail."

"Part of what?" Remeshi inquired, his curiosity piqued by Konosa's revelation.

Konosa chuckled softly, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "Oh boy, was I relieved for a minute or two. Good times, good times."

Remeshi's confusion deepened at Konosa's cryptic remark.

"Well, I am sure they will mention that, so have patience," Konosa reassured him, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips as they awaited the continuation of the performance.

The stage was once again bathed in soft light as the waiters and waitresses gathered, ready to continue the unfolding tale of the dragon riders. The audience watched with rapt attention as the female narrator took center stage, her voice resonating through the room.

"The dragon riders. There were some of them who survived and carried on their legacy. Their generation. They found their place in the cities and lived with other men and women. People recognized them for who they were and respected their mana. Haunted by how jealousy could astray someone, they still managed to break down the walls and started a new life," the narrator began, her words carrying a sense of reverence for the resilience of the dragon riders.

As she continued, the audience was transported into the mystical world of dragons and their riders. "Dragon riders. Mana doesn't bring the unnatural into light. It enhances matter and turns the same into forms. But dragons. Animals that were only true in myths and legends were captured in their glass jars," she explained.

"People from far and wide began studying the dragon riders, curious about their connection to these mythical beasts," the narrator continued, drawing the audience deeper into the lore of the dragon riders and their enigmatic companions.

"According to certain bits of findings, dragons did exist. They first appeared in the north of China and slowly spread their wings all around the world," she elucidated, painting a vivid picture of a time when dragons and humans coexisted harmoniously.

The audience listened intently as the narrator delved into the origins of the dragon riders' magic, explaining how it was shaped by the delicate balance between mana and matter. "Their mana was very powerful and yet delicate. To signify it, the material item selected was glass jars," she revealed, shedding light on the unique nature of the dragon riders' abilities.

As the female spoke her words from behind the stage, on the stage was the depiction of those very words just like how the first part was enacted, the audience observed, marveling at the intricate scenes unfolding before them, bringing the ancient legends of the dragon riders to life in vivid detail.

"Then..." The narrator started. "There was also the fact that with all these magic power and the dragons with them they could no longer stay together with everyone else. There could be lot of problems that might rise. Legends read that there was a incident that led to their second desertion. A young girl who was a fellow dragon rider accidently unleashed a huge amount of time space which pulled people around her in the void.

"Eventually, one of the Karama's pulled them out but the fact that remained was that a little girl had as much mana to unleash such power. This inserted fear in people again. The crowd she engulfed in her void were no more than twelve but the fact that she managed to pull them in, in another void in itself was a serious situation. Hence the incident was named, 'The twelfth void'. Because of that incident all the dragon riders scattered around the continent and hid themselves."

The hall fell into darkness once again, the anticipation palpable among the audience as they awaited the next act of the unfolding drama.

As the curtains were drawn, the stage transformed into a barren desert landscape, setting the scene for the next chapter of the story. A lone figure, dressed in tattered clothes and carrying a cloth bag, stepped onto the stage, capturing the attention of the audience.

"I know this part of the story," Konosa remarked with a sense of excitement, settling back into his seat.

Curious, Remeshi turned to his friend. "Who is he?"

Konosa, however, urged him to simply observe without asking questions, a hint of amusement in his tone.

The narrator's voice resonated through the hall, setting the stage for the unfolding tale. The man, identified as Senoto Saki, found himself in a desolate land, desperately seeking sustenance.

"Whe...where am I?" Senoto muttered, surveying his surroundings. "A barren land...?" he pondered aloud, wiping his forehead in exhaustion.

The stage shifted, revealing a hut that Senoto had fashioned for himself, a humble shelter in the midst of the wilderness. As the lights dimmed and then brightened again, the hut materialized before the audience's eyes.

"Days later, he heard cheers from outside his house. There were people," the narrator intoned, her voice filling the space.

Curious and somewhat bewildered, Senoto emerged from his makeshift abode to find a group of people gathered outside, led by a young maiden who addressed him respectfully.

"Who are you people?" Senoto inquired, puzzled by their presence.

The maiden explained that they were dragon riders who sought to reclaim the land they had abandoned during the war. Sensing an opportunity, they asked Senoto if they could return to their homeland and if he would consider becoming their leader.

"Will you...sir..?" the maiden implored, addressing Senoto with deference and respect.

Caught off guard by the sudden request, Senoto hesitated before tentatively agreeing to their proposal. Thus, from a humble traveler, he was elevated to the position of their leader and eventually crowned as their king.

The narrator's voice reverberated through the hall, recounting Senoto's transformation from a solitary wanderer to a revered monarch. Under his leadership, the land flourished, and Senoto reveled in the attention and importance bestowed upon him.

Driven by a sense of curiosity and adventure, Senoto embarked on a journey, leaving his kingdom in the care of his subjects. As he ventured into uncharted territory, he stumbled upon a hidden cave, its depths cloaked in mystery and intrigue.

"Anyone there?" Senoto called out, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. But as he ventured further into the cave, he encountered an unexpected presence, a fierce and commanding voice that beckoned him deeper into the unknown.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded, setting the stage for the next thrilling chapter of Senoto's journey.

The theater hall fell into silence as the curtains drew, veiling the stage in darkness. Remeshi shifted in his seat, anticipation coursing through him. The air was thick with expectation, every breath held in eager anticipation of what was to come. Then, with a flicker of light, the curtains unveiled the stage once more, revealing a sight that left the audience breathless.

A dragon, majestic and awe-inspiring, sat perched upon the very same wooden tiles that moments ago had been empty. Its scales shimmered in the dim light, its presence so lifelike that for a moment, it seemed as though the creature had stepped straight out of the realm of fantasy and into reality. The audience gasped in disbelief, their eyes wide with wonder.

"A dragon?" Senoto Saki's voice quivered with awe and trepidation as he took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest.

"A dragon? A talking dragon?" His words trembled with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"Who are you?" Saki managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I am Senoto Saki. The king of this land. Why are you here?" he demanded, trying to muster the courage to face the mythical creature before him.

"I'll go wherever I want," the dragon declared, its voice resonating with power as it unfurled its massive wings, sending gusts of wind swirling through the cave.

"I am the fire dragon, Ignatius," it proclaimed, its eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light.

"Ignatius?" Saki repeated, his mind reeling with disbelief.

"Yes, Ignatius. The current king of all dragons," the creature confirmed, its presence commanding attention.

"Current...?" Saki's voice trailed off, his thoughts racing as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what he was witnessing.

"Ever heard of Salamander?" Ignatius interjected, his tone laced with a hint of sorrow.

"The legendary fire-breathing dragon?" Saki responded, his mind racing to recall the tales of old.

"Yes," Ignatius affirmed, his gaze piercing through Saki's disbelief. "But dragons aren't as heartless as you humans believe. We never harm our own kind."

"Salamander just disappeared one day and never returned," Ignatius continued, his voice tinged with melancholy.

"But... dragons don't exist..." Saki's words faltered, his beliefs shaken to their core by the reality before him.

"You live with dragon riders and say such a thing?" Ignatius mocked, his laughter echoing through the cavernous hall. The very ground seemed to tremble beneath their feet as the dragon's laughter filled the air, sending ripples of excitement and fear through the audience.

"Is it necessary to make it that real? The hall is literally shaking," Remeshi exclaimed, his voice tinged with a mixture of awe and apprehension as he clutched the edge of his seat.

"You've got to feel the story," Konosa whispered, her eyes alight with excitement as she leaned in closer to Remeshi.

The cavern was filled with tension as Senoto Saki hesitated, his gaze fixed on the imposing figure of Ignatius, the fire dragon. Saki's mind raced with disbelief and awe, grappling with the reality of standing before a creature of legend.

"Well?" Ignatius's voice boomed through the cave, breaking the silence that hung heavy in the air. "I am alive and so are my comrades."

Saki's voice faltered as he gathered the courage to speak. "You live here?" he managed to stammer out, his eyes wide with wonder.

"Yes, with my other friends," Ignatius replied, his tone carrying a hint of solemnity.

Saki's mind whirled with possibilities. Here stood a creature of immense power, yet one who seemed willing to coexist with humans. "Then you can live with us," he suggested tentatively. "Don't worry. Humans are powerful beings, but we can always help helpless creatures."

Ignatius rose to his full height, his massive wings unfurling to cover the ceiling of the cave. His gaze bore into Saki, a mixture of curiosity and skepticism in his emerald green eyes.

Saki took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to reveal. "Salamander died in a war," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you know?" Ignatius's voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing as he fixed Saki with a piercing gaze.

"I know everything about that war," Saki replied, his voice steady despite the tremor in his heart. "I will let you know for sure, but do you promise to help me out?"

"Anything for Salamander. What do you want?" Ignatius's response was swift, his loyalty to his fallen comrade evident in every word.

"Please serve me. Not as a servant, but rather as a friend," Saki requested, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

The dragon's laughter filled the cavern, echoing off the walls in a rumble of sound. "That is all, right? All of my friends will help you out. Anything you need, just ask us," Ignatius declared before spreading his wings and flying out of the cave.

As Saki emerged from the cavern, the curtains were drawn once more, plunging the theater into darkness. In the dim light, the narrator's voice filled the space, guiding the audience through the next chapter of the unfolding tale.

"The dragon gave the king a ride to his palace, and his comrades followed in pursuit," the narrator intoned. "Senoto Saki entered the land, the citizens saw the dragons behind him."

Excitement rippled through the crowd as the citizens hailed their king, their voices ringing out in celebration. Saki's advisor bowed before him, his eyes darting nervously to the dragons that trailed behind.

"Our master has brought pride to our country," one of the men cheered, his voice echoing through the night.

As Saki surveyed the scene before him, his heart swelled with pride.

As the scene unfolded before their eyes, the theater hall buzzed with excitement and anticipation. Senoto Saki, now hailed as the king, stood proudly before the citizens, his voice ringing out with authority.

"Don't be afraid. These are your pride. Your ability. This majestic dragon I just rode on is called Ignatius," Saki proclaimed, his words resonating with a sense of pride and unity.

"Mamma, look!" A young girl pointed excitedly at the dragon, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Ignatius is here!" she exclaimed, her joy contagious as she reveled in the presence of the mythical creature.

But amidst the excitement, a whisper floated through the air as Remeshi leaned in to Konosa. "Wait. Child labor?" he murmured, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"No, idiot! Just because she's a child doesn't mean she is doing that. She's just enacting. They picked her up for playing the role," Konosa explained in a hushed tone, her eyes rolling at Remeshi's misunderstanding.

"Huh. Oh yeah... something must be wrong with me," Remeshi muttered sheepishly as he settled back into his seat, chastened by his own misconception.

"Mamma! Will Ignatius play with me?" the young girl asked eagerly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yes, he sure will," her mother assured her, a smile gracing her lips as Ignatius stepped onto the land, his presence commanding attention.

"Ignatius!" Kids came running to him, their voices filled with excitement and curiosity.

"Yes, yes. I will show you fire tricks," Ignatius roared, his voice booming with enthusiasm as he prepared to entertain the eager children.

As Ignatius dazzled the children with his tricks, a voice rang out from the darkness, guiding the audience through the rich tapestry of history and legend.

"When Liam was still alive, dragons and humans coexisted together," the narrator intoned. "Ignatius was their favorite. He would amuse the children with his tricks."

But amidst the tales of wonder and magic, a question lingered in the air. "Ignatius! Where is Drake?" a young boy asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"Drake? Must be here," Ignatius replied, his gaze sweeping the surroundings until it settled on a solitary figure standing apart from the others.

"Come on. The children love it when we are around," Ignatius urged, beckoning Drake to join them as they flew towards the delighted children.

As the scene unfolded on stage, Remeshi couldn't contain his excitement. "Woah! Even I want dragons as my friends," he exclaimed, his eyes shining with wonder.

"Yeah, sure," Konosa replied casually, taking a sip from his glass.

"Jeez, I didn't know bottled fizz would taste this good," Konosa remarked, taking a sip of his own.

"Oh, come on. Why not?" Remeshi teased, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Do you think everyone can talk to dragons? Only a real dragon rider can understand them," he explained, his tone lighthearted yet knowing.

"Oh! Got to shift species then!" Remeshi joked, his laughter filling the air as he settled back into his seat.

"Huh. Like you ever think straight," Konosa retorted, his playful banter punctuated by a roll of his eyes.

"Come on, Senpai. Can you not be a little nice to me?" Remeshi pleaded, his tone playful yet genuine.

"Well, can you not be so dense?" Konosa teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"I am dense? What does that mean..." Remeshi trailed off, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Right. You do that," Konosa chuckled, leaning back in his seat as the play continued to unfold before them.

In the opulent interior of the king's palace, draped in lavish curtains and adorned with regal decor, Senoto Saki, the king, stood with an air of authority. His advisor, Mark, hovered nearby, holding the king's long cape with a mixture of deference and concern etched on his face.

As Saki unveiled his plan to harness the power of dragons for his own ambitions, Mark's disbelief and apprehension grew evident. "Your Highness, dragons? Are you willing to betray us all?"

But Saki's laughter rang out, dismissing Mark's concerns as he boasted of his grand designs to extend his dominion over not just humans but all creatures, including dragons and the legendary five golden birds.

The sudden appearance of Ignatius shattered the king's facade of control. Ignatius, sensing the deception, confronted Saki with a thunderous roar, exposing his treachery to the world.

As Ignatius rallied the dragons against the false king, chaos erupted within the palace. Saki, realizing his downfall was imminent, attempted to flee, leaving Mark and the terrified citizens at the mercy of the enraged dragons.

With the dragons unleashed and their fury unchecked, panic swept through the kingdom like wildfire. The once tranquil streets now echoed with screams of terror as the massive creatures wreaked havoc, tearing apart anyone who crossed their path in a savage display of retribution.

As the people sought refuge, an old man, his memory stirred by the chaos, recalled a long-forgotten relic - Liam's sword, a symbol of hope from a bygone era of conflict. With grim determination, he retrieved the sword from Liam's grave, invoking its power in a desperate bid for salvation.

In the darkness of the night, under a canopy of stars, the people witnessed a miraculous sight. A lone figure, shrouded in darkness and with purpose, emerged to confront the rampaging dragons.

"Grandpa! That sword belongs to Liam, does it not?" a young man exclaimed, his voice filled with awe and determination as he stepped forward to claim the legendary weapon.

With the fate of the kingdom hanging in the balance, the stage was set for a final, brutal showdown between humanity and the wrath of the betrayed dragons.

In the dimly lit theater, anticipation hung heavy in the air as the climax of the play unfolded before the eager audience. Remeshi and Konosa, caught up in the drama, watched intently as the mysterious figure on stage, draped in a dark robe, seized authority.

"Is that Sekigo Senma?" Remeshi pondered aloud, his eyes fixed on the enigmatic character commanding the stage.

Konosa, equally engrossed, strained to catch a glimpse of the actor's face, his curiosity piqued by the intrigue surrounding the central figure of the narrative.

As the old man hurled the sword towards the robed figure, they caught it effortlessly, their movements fluid and confident. With a single, powerful swing, they sent a flying dragon crashing to the ground, marking their arrival with a dramatic flourish.

Introducing themselves as Sekigo Senma, the dragon rider, he bared their soul to the audience, recounting a tale of betrayal and exile, of forsaking their own kind in pursuit of justice and redemption.

With fiery determination, Sekigo Senma faced off against Ignatius, refusing to succumb to the cycle of violence and vengeance that had plagued their world. Instead, he unveiled a glass jar, a simple yet potent tool that held the key to quelling the dragon's fury without bloodshed.

The audience held their breath as Sekigo Senma invoked ancient incantations, invoking a powerful spell to subdue Ignatius and seal his fiery rage within the confines of the jar. The tension in the theater reached its peak as the dragon's flames dwindled to a mere flicker, subdued by the rider's unwavering resolve.

Addressing the gathered crowd and the remaining dragons with a mixture of authority and compassion, Sekigo Senma urged them to return to their homeland, to embrace peace and freedom once more.

As the people breathed a collective sigh of relief, their eyes turned to the figure on stage, their curiosity piqued by the sudden revelation of the actor's identity.

With a flutter of the wind, the robe fell away, revealing the true face of Sekigo Senma's actor. A young woman stood before them, her striking red eyes ablaze with determination, her crimson lips parted in a silent vow.

Her presence commanded attention, her every movement exuding an air of confidence and strength. Adorned in a red shirt and pants, with a black strap pouch secured around her thigh, she emanated an aura of mystery and power.

But it was the tiny hairpin nestled in her fiery red hair that caught the audience's attention.

As Remeshi and Konosa exchanged awed whispers, they realized that the true drama was only just beginning. With the stage set for the final act, they braced themselves for the thrilling conclusion of Sekigo Senma's tale of courage and redemption.

As the curtains rose once more, revealing the aftermath of Sekigo Senma's valiant efforts to restore peace, a solemn atmosphere settled over the audience. The narrator's voice rang out, recounting the bittersweet conclusion of the tale, where hope clashed with despair in a tragic dance of fate.

Sekigo Senma's noble gesture of refusing leadership and entrusting the dragon riders to govern themselves resonated with the people, echoing the ideals of Liam and Alvia. Yet, beneath the veneer of newfound tranquility lay a lingering sense of unease, born from years of hardship and betrayal.

Placing the jar containing the subdued dragon on display, Sekigo Senma's proclamation of peace was met with cautious optimism by the populace. However, old wounds ran deep, and the specter of past betrayals cast a shadow over their fragile peace.

As time passed, whispers of discontent began to stir among the people, fueled by uncertainty and fear. When the dragons broke free from their confinement and launched a renewed assault on the kingdom, Sekigo Senma once again took up arms to defend his home.

In the ensuing chaos, the fragile peace shattered like glass, giving way to a brutal conflict where survival was the only currency. Ignatius's ferocious roar heralded the onslaught of the dragons, their rage unchecked and their fury relentless.

Despite Sekigo Senma's valor and resolve, the tide of battle turned against him, and he fell amidst a storm of blood and steel. His once indomitable spirit now lay broken and battered, a tragic casualty of a war he never sought.

As the narrator's voice faltered with emotion, the audience bore witness to the devastation wrought by the conflict, where lives were lost and dreams shattered in the crucible of war.

In the aftermath, as rumors swirled and conjecture ran rampant, the truth remained elusive, buried beneath layers of pain and sorrow.

As the narrator's final words hung in the air, a somber silence enveloped the hall, broken only by the gentle sobs of those touched by the tragedy unfolding before them.

Remeshi and Konosa, moved by the poignant tale, exchanged a somber glance, their hearts heavy with the weight of sorrow and loss. Yet, even in the face of despair, they found solace in the enduring power of storytelling to illuminate the darkness and unite hearts in shared empathy.

As the main serving wench, now transformed back into her everyday guise, entered the hall, the audience rose to their feet, offering silent homage to the fallen heroes of the past and the enduring legacy of their sacrifice.

"Hey," one of the waiters called out to her, admiration evident in his tone. "You were amazing, Oya. I mean, you were six times better than me. You know I played the role of Liam?"

Remeshi nodded, his mind swirling with questions at the mention of the unfamiliar name, Oya. He glanced over at the quietly standing figure at the end of the hall, realizing that the name belonged to her.

"Let's go, Remeshi. We have to continue our journey, right?" Konosa's voice interrupted his thoughts, prompting him to stand up and follow him.

"Yeah," Remeshi replied, his gaze lingering on Oya for a moment longer before tearing away.

But before they could leave, chaos erupted in the hall as a man's accusatory voice cut through the air.

"You. Oya Hashiro. It's quite clear from the hairpin that it is you. Hand yourself over at once. You think you can escape? Hand yourself over, Oya Hashiro!"

The girl's furious glare silenced the crowd, sending murmurs rippling through the gathered onlookers. Remeshi's mind raced with questions at the mention of the name Hashiro and the revelation of a possible connection to dragon riders.

As Oya shed her robe and tore her dress, revealing a striking black bikini and metal adornments, the crowd gasped in disbelief. Remeshi's eyes widened in shock at the sudden transformation, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and fascination.

"That was a paper outfit? Her waitress outfit, I mean..." the owner murmured incredulously, his gaze fixed on Oya's new attire.

"Woah," Konosa muttered, taking a step back in awe as Oya drew out her sword, its bright red hue glinting menacingly in the dim light.

With a swift motion, Oya hurled the sword towards the accusing man, pinning him against the wall with terrifying precision. The crowd erupted into panicked whispers, their eyes darting between Oya and the man she had immobilized.

"You think I am alone?" the man yelled defiantly, his voice echoing through the hall.

"Shut up! What did she do to you?" Konosa demanded, drawing his own sword and charging towards the man with determination.

The clash of metal rang out as Konosa and the man engaged in a fierce battle, their swords flashing in the dim light as they exchanged blows. With each strike, the pressure of their confrontation sent shockwaves rippling through the hall, cracking the tiles beneath their feet.

"My tiles!" Killow screamed in dismay, his voice drowned out by the chaos erupting around him.

Konosa's frustration bubbled like molten lava beneath a thin crust, ready to erupt at any moment. The chaotic scene at the restaurant escalated, the air thick with tension as Konosa and Remeshi bolted out, leaving a wake of destruction behind them. Killow's enraged cries about them paying him back for the damage faded into the background as they fled.

"I am used to all this now," Konosa muttered, his voice heavy with resignation, the weight of countless similar incidents pressing down on his shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear.

"Thanks to you. I have your virus now," Konosa retorted, his tone tinged with bitterness.

"My virus. Hah... And wait! How is all this my fault? I mean, don't you like helping others too?!" Remeshi shot back.

Their argument was cut short as a group of men materialized before them, like shadows emerging from the darkness. Oya Hashiro, her presence commanding, faced them with a mixture of defiance and calm resolve.

"Brenton. Reveal," she commanded, tapping the jar secured to her thigh. A blinding light erupted, forcing everyone to shield their eyes. As the brilliance subsided, a behemoth of scales and sinew loomed overhead-a dragon, its azure blue scales shimmering in the sunlight.

"Break Jinx," Oya commanded, her voice echoing like thunder, the authority in her tone sending shivers down the spines of those who dared to challenge her.

Konosa's eyes widened in disbelief. "She is a dragon rider," he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. "I thought they were just creating a scene."

"Rank one?" one of the men smirked, his arrogance thinly veiled behind a facade of false bravado.

But Oya remained unfazed, her resolve unyielding. "She won't reveal the strong dragons here in the middle of the street," another man scoffed, a cruel laughter escaping his lips. "And if she keeps that thing out for long, she knows he will pay."

With a deft movement, Oya sealed the dragon back into its glass prison, the display of power a mere glimpse of her true capabilities. "Too good for your own good," one of the men sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "That is why your work never gets done."

But Oya was done playing games. With a swift motion, she drew her sword, the metal gleaming in the dim light. With a calm exhale, she took a stance, her grip on the sword unwavering, her determination burning like a flame within her.

And then, she struck.

They never saw it coming-a whirlwind of fury and steel, a tempest unleashed upon them with merciless precision. Blood sprayed, screams echoed, and chaos reigned as Oya's blade found its mark, carving through flesh and bone with chilling efficiency.

Konosa watched in horror, his heart pounding in his chest, as Oya emerged victorious, her sword stained crimson, her eyes ablaze with a fire that burned brighter than the sun. The men lay broken and defeated, their arrogance shattered like glass, their faces twisted in agony and disbelief.

"What the... Does she really need help?" Konosa muttered, his voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos and carnage.

Oya stood, her gaze fixed on the swirling masses. A sense of purpose emanated from her as she tapped the glass jar at her side, a silent command echoing in the air.

"Carla," she murmured, her voice carrying a weight of determination as she tapped the jar once more. With a soft hum, the jar glowed, and from within emerged a magnificent creature-a dragon, resplendent in hues of pink, its wings unfurling gracefully.

Without hesitation, Oya mounted the dragon's back, her movements fluid and decisive. As Carla took flight, the wind caught Oya's short hair, causing it to dance in rhythm with the rush of air.

High above the market, Oya waved goodbye to the bustling scene below, a farewell gesture marked by two raised fingers against the sky.

But beneath the serene facade, whispers of dissent lurked among the crowd as the enemy spoke. "We are not letting her go," one voice hissed, punctuated by the unsheathing of a sword.

"No!" Remeshi interjected with a fierce determination. In a swift motion, he lunged towards the enemy, their bodies colliding with a resounding thud. Chaos ensued as steel clashed against steel, the clash of blades echoing through the market square.

Amidst the fray, Oya's world tilted as two sharp pains seared through her shoulders. A cry escaped her lips, mingling with the agonized roar of Carla, who writhed in pain as swords pierced her wings. The sky darkened with the weight of their suffering.

With a desperate resolve, Oya reached for her glass jar once more, fingers trembling as she tapped its surface. In an instant, the dragon vanished, leaving Oya to plummet towards the earth below, her body limp and unresponsive.

As she hurtled towards the ground, the river below loomed closer, its cool depths offering a fleeting promise of respite. But with no control over her descent and no means of defense, Oya's fate hung in the balance, a solitary figure caught in the unforgiving currents of destiny.

In the chaos of the market square, Killow's voice pierced through the tumult like a thunderclap, commanding attention with its raw power. "SAVE HER, YOU BOYS WHO DAMAGED MY TILES!" His words reverberated with authority.

Confusion clouded the faces of Remeshi and Konosa, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and apprehension. "What?" they muttered in unison, exchanging wary glances as the gravity of their situation sank in.

But amidst the chaos, Remeshi stood resolute, his gaze fixed on the task at hand. With a steely resolve, he stepped forward, his sword pulsating with an otherworldly energy. "I'll handle them, Senpai," he declared, his voice ringing with determination. "Go ahead and save the girl."

Konosa nodded, his jaw set in a determined line. "Yeah. Don't die, okay?" he replied, his words tinged with a note of concern. "Give me a signal if you need help."

As Konosa forged ahead, Remeshi braced himself for the onslaught that awaited. "You are not going," one of the twelve men growled, his sword gleaming in the sunlight as he advanced menacingly.

But Remeshi was undeterred, his movements fluid and precise as he ducked and weaved through the crowd. With each step, his sword grew longer and more formidable, thick needles sprouting from its surface like thorns on a rose.

As the enemy closed in, Remeshi moved with the grace of a predator, his senses honed to a razor's edge. Sword clashed against sword in a symphony of violence, each blow striking with deadly accuracy.

But amidst the chaos, one of the enemy managed to gain the upper hand, sneaking up behind Remeshi with a vice-like grip around his throat. Gasping for air, Remeshi struggled against his assailant, his vision swimming as darkness threatened to consume him.

With a desperate surge of adrenaline, Remeshi broke free from the grasp of his attacker, his sword clattering to the ground as he fought for his very survival. In a desperate bid for escape, he reached out, his fingers closing around two cucumbers from a nearby vegetable cart, using them to block the onslaught of fists that rained down upon him.

Bloodied and bruised, Remeshi fought on, his every movement a testament to his unyielding resolve. But as the battle raged on, the line between victory and defeat blurred, leaving Remeshi teetering on the brink of oblivion.

In the midst of the chaos, Remeshi's voice cut through the clamor like a blade, commanding attention with its urgency. "Hey! How many of you have swords here?" he called out, his tone both commanding and authoritative.

Trembling with fear, several members of the crowd stepped forward, their hands clutching the cold steel of their weapons. Sensing their apprehension, Remeshi issued his next command with unwavering resolve. "Throw them around," he ordered, his voice carrying above the din of battle.

But amidst the flurry of activity, Killow's voice rang out, laced with uncertainty and doubt. "What about you, kid?" he asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

Remeshi's response was swift and decisive, his tone tinged with a hint of defiance. "Do we have time for that? Just throw it," he urged, his gaze fixed on the looming threat before them.

"But you-" Killow began, only to be cut off by Remeshi's resolute assertion. "Sir, I'm defending myself with cucumbers," he declared, his words a testament to his resourcefulness in the face of adversity.

With a collective sense of urgency, the crowd released their swords, sending them spiraling through the air like deadly projectiles. Swords rained down upon the battlefield, their razor-sharp edges glinting in the sunlight as they sought their targets.

Remeshi deftly dodged the barrage of blades, his movements fluid and agile. Stepping out of the circle of chaos, he watched as the queen's men clashed with the falling swords, their bodies bearing the brunt of the deadly onslaught.

But amidst the carnage, one of the enemy soldiers rose to his feet, his gaze fixed on Remeshi with a fierce intensity. With a voice filled with desperation, he pleaded for an end to the bloodshed, his words carrying the weight of allegiance to a higher power.

"Stop it," he implored, his voice rising above the din of battle. "Stop meddling. Stop trying to help people you don't know. Let us have her head, and we will leave you in peace. The queen wants this, and she shall have it. We can't defy her orders."

But Remeshi's resolve remained unshaken, his grip tightening on his sword as he prepared to face his adversary head-on. With a swift motion, he lunged forward, his blade piercing the man's shirt with a sickening sound.

As the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded, Remeshi stood amidst the crowd, his gaze unwavering as he addressed the enemy with a solemn command. "Stop harming others," he implored, his voice carrying a weight of authority born from the trials of combat.

The assembled crowd exchanged hesitant glances, uncertainty flickering in their eyes. Among them stood an argon and a dragon rider.

"This is like..." one voice began, hesitating as if searching for the right words to articulate their thoughts.

"He's scared, of course. What do you want to say, huh? This is like a bad dream? A nightmare? You think I'm an arrogant argon too?" Remeshi's thoughts were tinged with bitterness.

His gaze piercing as he locked eyes with the man he had pinned to the ground. "What does this look like to you? What is it?" he pressed in his head.

The young man's voice rang out, filled with an unexpected sense of wonder. "This is like... this is like so amazing," he exclaimed, his words a stark contrast to the tension that had gripped Remeshi.

As Remeshi processed the unexpected response, a wave of relief washed over him, the crowd's voices blending into a cacophony of chatter and excitement. Amidst the throng, a small girl approached Remeshi, her eyes wide with innocence and curiosity.

"I have a sword too, see?" she declared proudly, unveiling a wooden sword before him. Remeshi stepped away from the unconscious man, his attention fully captured by the young girl's enthusiasm.

Kneeling down to her level, Remeshi gently patted her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The girl blushed under his gaze, her excitement palpable in the air.

"How old are you?" Remeshi inquired, his voice gentle and reassuring.

The girl raised seven fingers in the air, her expression filled with pride. "Wow. So you're seven? That's great," Remeshi replied, his admiration evident in his tone. "You made this sword?"

"Yes," the girl nodded eagerly. "I carved a small design on it as well."

Intrigued, Remeshi leaned in closer, his interest piqued by the girl's creativity. "Oh?" he prompted, eager to hear more.

"It's a hydrangea leaf," the girl explained, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"Wow. Amazing," Remeshi exclaimed, genuine admiration coloring his words as he marveled at the intricacy of her craftsmanship.

As Konosa plunged deeper into the murky depths of the river, a sense of urgency gripped him, his lungs burning with the need for air. Panic surged through his veins as he struggled to maintain his composure, the pressure of the water pressing in on him from all sides.

"I... can't breathe," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper against the rush of water. Each heartbeat felt like a thunderclap in his chest as he frantically searched for any sign of the girl he had sworn to protect.

Above the surface, Remeshi's voice echoed across the water, cutting through the silence. "Konosa Senpai! You haven't found her yet?" he called out, his tone laced with concern.

Struggling to keep his head above water, Konosa strained to respond, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Is this a river or an ocean? I can't see where she is," he managed to choke out, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Use your water powers, Senpai," Remeshi urged, his voice carrying across the expanse of the river.

Konosa hesitated, the memory of past failures weighing heavily on his mind. "I can't. It'll explode," he confessed, his voice tinged with resignation.

"I will find her. Don't worry," he promised, steeling himself. With a final, determined breath, he dove back into the depths, his senses attuned to the ebb and flow of the river's currents.

As he swam deeper, Konosa felt the weight of the water pressing down on him, threatening to crush him beneath its relentless force.

Oya's eyelids fluttered open, greeted by the suffocating embrace of water surrounding her. The sharp sting of pain shot through her body as she winced, feeling the liquid seep into her open wounds. Panic surged within her as she struggled against the weight of the water, her limbs thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free and reach the surface. With each futile effort, the water seemed to pull her deeper, its cold embrace threatening to consume her.

Bubbles escaped from her mouth, forming a silent plea for help as she fought against the relentless force of the water. But despite her best efforts, she found herself sinking further into the murky depths, the world above growing fainter with each passing moment. Darkness threatened to engulf her, and for a fleeting instant, she surrendered to the embrace of oblivion.

But then, amidst the chaos of her thoughts, a distant sound pierced through the haze. The clash of swords reverberated in her ears, echoing with a haunting intensity that jolted her back to consciousness. Through the haze of despair, she saw flashes of steel, the metallic tang of blood filling her senses.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Oya forced her eyes open once more, the dim light filtering down from the surface casting eerie shadows around her.

As Oya struggled to regain her bearings on the shore, her vision blurred with exhaustion and pain. Konosa's strong arms encircled her, pulling her from the water's grasp and guiding her to safety. With each step, she felt the weight of her wounds dragging her down, but she pressed on, fueled by the desperate desire to escape the suffocating embrace of the river.

Remeshi's presence was a welcome relief as he joined them on the shore, his strong grip lending support as they stumbled towards safety. Konosa wiped the water from his face, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he surveyed the scene before him.

"Thank you, Remeshi," Konosa said, his voice hoarse with exhaustion. "She is wounded. Her arms are bleeding. One of you should tend to her."

Remeshi nodded, his expression filled with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle despite the urgency of the situation.

Konosa managed a weak nod, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to speak. "No... I'm not," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Actually, back when I lived underwater, we didn't swim around like fishes. It was just like the land. We would use our legs. That's why... this is weird but... I can't swim..."

Remeshi's eyes widened in surprise, his expression filled with guilt as he bowed his head. "Huh? I am so sorry, Senpai. I didn't know that you could not swim."

Konosa offered a reassuring smile, though it was tinged with pain. "It's alright. I am glad nothing happened to me."

Remeshi straightened, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Senpai, if you can't swim, how did you manage to go that deep into the river?"

Konosa's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful expression. "Hm. I am a wave descendant. Can't argue with that. I tried all I could. I did have to come to the surface numerous times to breathe, but all's well that ends well," he explained, his voice tinged with resignation.

"Though that is no river..." he muttered under his breath, his gaze lingering on the dark waters that had nearly claimed them both.

Remeshi's admiration for Konosa only grew as he watched him, his eyes shining with awe. "Thank you, Senpai. You're truly amazing," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude as he stood up and dusted off his Hakama. He cast a wary glance at the men cowering on the ground, their faces twisted in pain, before turning his attention back to Oya.

"Who were they, miss?" Remeshi asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

"I mean, who are they?" Remeshi corrected himself, his brow furrowed in frustration.

Before Oya could respond, she pulled out her sword and launched it towards him with surprising speed. Reacting on instinct, Remeshi drew his own weapon, deflecting the blade before it could strike him. Shocked by her sudden aggression, he looked up at her, his expression a mixture of hurt and confusion.

"Hey! That's not how you treat the ones who saved you from drowning and... from THEM," he yelled, gesturing towards the men still groaning in pain.

But before he could protest further, Oya charged towards him, delivering a swift kick to his face that sent him sprawling to the ground. As he struggled to rise, he found himself pinned beneath her, the blunt edge of her sword pressing against his arms with relentless force.

"Huh. Looks like there is someone who hates you," Konosa commented dryly, his tone laced with amusement as he observed the scene unfolding before him.

"You..." Remeshi began, his voice muffled by the ground beneath him, but before he could finish his sentence, Oya silenced him with a sharp blow to the back of his head.

"Ouch," Remeshi winced, his protests falling on deaf ears as Oya maintained her grip on him.

"Hey, I think you should get up," Konosa suggested, scratching his head in bemusement as he watched the exchange between the two.

Ignoring his words, Oya pulled out small star-shaped blades, launching them at Konosa with deadly accuracy. He dodged them with practiced ease, sliding backward to avoid the projectiles.

"Is this a dragon rider culture? It is, isn't it? You praise us by trying to kill us, right...?" Konosa remarked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

"Get off me, you weird girl," Remeshi pleaded, his voice tinged with frustration as he struggled beneath her weight.

"You should..." Konosa started, only to be silenced by a sharp glare from Oya.

"Uh... do what you please," he surrendered, raising his hands in a gesture of submission.

"Senpai!" Remeshi yelled, desperation creeping into his voice.

"What? She's a dragon rider, and she has red, blazing eyes. She's completely red, head to toe. You should have seen the way she glared at me. I don't want to get involved," Konosa explained, shrugging off Remeshi's distress.

"Yeah? I would love to see the glare if she GETS OFF ME, YOU KNOW!" Remeshi yelled, his frustration boiling over as he struggled beneath Oya's relentless hold.

"Uh..." Killow, one of the bystanders, started, his voice filled with concern as he looked towards Oya. "Are you okay?"

Oya nodded, her expression unreadable as she maintained her silence.

"We will aid you. Come with us," one of the waitresses offered, extending a hand in friendship. But Oya shook her head, declining their offer without explanation.

"No? Why not?" Remeshi pressed, his confusion evident in his tone.

"Wait, don't you speak? But I heard you say your lines," he continued, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Um... uh... that was me," a boy spoke up, raising his hand tentatively.

"Oh yeah... The voice did sound masculine, but I thought she mimicked it," Remeshi admitted, his embarrassment clear.

"I used the mic from backstage. She was lip-syncing. Oya is a very quiet girl. I'm not sure if she's shy, but she doesn't like talking to others," the boy explained, nodding in confirmation.

"Oh-" Remeshi began, only to be interrupted by a sharp slap to the back of his head from Oya.

"Hey, you! Stop treating me like this. How long do you plan to sit on my back?" Remeshi yelled, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

Oya finally relented, rising from his back with an air of finality. But as Remeshi looked up at her, the angle of sight giving off a misunderstanding it shouldn't have, she stepped on his cheek, pressing it against the ground with her foot.

"Ow," Remeshi struggled, his protests falling on deaf ears as Oya muttered something under her breath.

Konosa sighed, shaking his head in resignation as he watched the scene unfold. "Hah... apologize to her," he instructed, his voice tinged with amusement.

"But Senpai! I didn't do anything! Her dress is short! And I didn't see anything, I swear," Remeshi protested, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"Pervert," Oya muttered, pressing her foot against his cheek with renewed force.

Konosa scoffed, while the crowd around them sighed in exasperation at the ongoing spectacle.