About a week later.
The torrential downpour that had seemed poised to wash the entire world clean had finally begun to ease. In its place came a steady, unending drizzle — and every now and then, the clouds would even break, letting through slivers of sunlight.
"The river level's finally going down."
"We're safe!"
Kay, who was in charge of patrolling the waterways, was the first to bring the good news.
Cheers erupted from the villagers as they emerged from their homes — it meant the flood threat had passed. They no longer had to live in fear each day, braving the storm to shore up the levees.
But Artoria couldn't bring herself to celebrate.
Because she knew that after this disaster known as "flooding," a much graver catastrophe awaited them — awaited every living being on this island.
Plague.
"After a great disaster comes a great plague. After plague, famine. After famine, chaos."
That saying came from an ancient Eastern land — though Artoria had never heard those words herself, the truth behind them was universal. Thousands of years of human civilization had proven them true time and time again.
"The cause of plague is simple, really."
"After heavy rains and floods, filthy things get mixed together in all that water… rotting meat, animal waste, that sort of thing."
"Just think about it. If a living creature so much as touches that stuff — of course it's going to get sick."
The Flower Magus, as if all-knowing, explained it in terms a blonde girl could understand. But his expression shifted suddenly, turning grave and severe.
"Of course, there's another way to look at it."
"These disasters — they're the will of the island made manifest. This island and its age are nearing their end. The signs of ruin are beginning to show."
"And you, Tia — as both the Red Dragon, symbol of this island's will, and the king entrusted with protecting her people — on this path to inevitable destruction, what role will you choose to play?"
It was a question with no right answer.
—In an era that had already fallen so far, no matter what she chose, it would still be wrong.
…
In the mountain forest, atop the cliff.
Compared to the damp and dreary world below, here the sun was shining. Warm and bright.
Bluey lay sprawled in the mouth of the cave, his body mostly tucked into the cool interior while his head poked out into the sunlight. He loved this warm, lazy feeling — and he could feel something stirring inside him, a latent strength quickening beneath the sun's rays.
He'd slept well.
With the nagging presence of the red dragoness no longer disturbing him, his routine was gradually aligning with that of a proper dragon. A month might sound long to some, but to him, it had passed like a single nap.
In fact, he probably could've kept sleeping even longer.
But for some reason, whispers had started echoing through his mind. Murmuring voices he couldn't quite make out… They had disturbed his dreams, jolting him awake from his fantasy of "Mighty, Invincible, Supreme! Smash it all! Roar and cheer!"
"What is that sound?"
Curious, the young dragon flapped his wings and soared down to hover above the glowing [Mausoleum of White] at the cliff's base.
And to his surprise, he saw several human figures scattered across what should have been a quiet, peaceful slope.
"Humans?!"
Bluey blinked, uncertain whether he should approach them or keep his distance.
Come to think of it, since arriving in this world, he hadn't actually seen any humans — Artoria didn't count. She was a red dragon in human skin. She was his kin.
In fact, Artoria had gone out of her way to hide him up on this remote cliff specifically so he could avoid contact with humans as much as possible.
"Humans and dragons — that kind of meeting never ends well."
In the mythologies of Europe, dragons harming humans were commonplace tales. And the legends of brave warriors slaying dragons were cherished across nearly every land… Artoria had no intention of letting such a tragedy unfold on this island.
But it seemed the choice was no longer hers to make.
Circling high above, Bluey narrowed his eyes, wary. The blue-white light gathering in his throat shimmered faintly with a threat of destruction — this was his territory. Any intruder who entered without his permission had to be repelled.
But moments later, Bluey hesitated.
Because he realized something was off about these humans.
…
They were a group of sickly pale humans.
Roughly ten in number — men and women, old and young.
But they all shared one thing in common: they looked utterly emaciated.
Some lay down, some sat hunched, all motionless unless absolutely necessary, their every posture shouting of exhaustion — as if they didn't have much longer to live.
Sharp-eyed as he was, Bluey also noticed fish bones scattered nearby, as well as remnants of bark and tree roots — damn it, had these miserable humans eaten through his hard-earned food stores?
"Anyone still able to move, come with me to look for food."
From his perch high in a tree, Bluey had waited a long time before hearing a voice rise from the group.
It came from a young girl, maybe sixteen or seventeen. She looked disheveled, stumbling with every step. But compared to the rest of the group — clearly gravely ill — she was relatively well.
At least, she still had the strength to walk.
The others, sprawled on the ground… couldn't even summon the energy to respond.
"At the very least — at the very least, we have to get them inside. If they stay out here through the night, they'll freeze to death!"
She called out in desperation as she reached down to try and drag one of the weakened bodies toward the white stone fortress.
But then—
"Forget it, Wenna."
Someone finally spoke.
A voice like sand scraping against wood — hoarse and rough, every word a coarse grain dragged painfully from the throat.
"We won't survive."
"You know it, don't you? Once you're driven into the mountains… no one makes it out alive."
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T/N: hmmm i'll eventually change blueys name once he grows up but rn hes all cuteee (HAHAHA I NEVER DO!!!!!!!!!)