The morning, they departed, Dragon Kingdom’s mist clung low over the water-roads, soft and pale, as if reluctant to let them go. Towers of ancient stone rose behind them like silent watchers, their shadows stretching long across the plaza where Rowan, Lira, Tidewhisper, and Pyrope stood waiting beside the caravan.

  Rhaikor arrived without fanfare—no marching soldiers, no ceremony. Only the sound of his steps, light for someone of his size, and the faint ripple of colors shifting across his obsidian-patterned scales.

  His presence alone quieted the plaza.

  “Your recovery is stable,” he said, eyes flicking between Pyrope and the others. “Your spirits, less predictable. But that is normal.”

  Rowan bowed, deeply. “Head Guardian… we wouldn’t have survived without you.”

  Rhaikor’s split gaze softened, though his voice stayed level. “You survived because you refused to break. Not because of me.”

  Tidewhisper hummed in agreement, whiskers trembling. “Still. Your kingdom gave these young ones a chance the world rarely gives.”

  Lira stepped forward, clutching the satchel of supplies the Dragon King had gifted. “We’ll carry your kindness with us.”

  Rhaikor nodded once. Then he turned sharply toward Pyrope.

  His vertical pupils narrowed.

  “I heard the raiders are getting stronger,” he said quietly—so quietly only the four of them heard. “Do not fall behind.”

  Pyrope straightened, breath held.

  Rhaikor continued, “With your body, you can catch him—at least enough to protect yourself.”

  The words were meant to reassure.

  But in Pyrope’s heart, they echoed with a weight he could not shake.

  But it’s not enough.

  Not yet. Not for what’s coming.

  Rhaikor must have sensed the ripple in Pyrope’s heartbeat. His split vision focused—one eye on Rowan and Lira, the other locked on Pyrope, a warning only he could read.

  “Grow,” Rhaikor said simply. “Faster than fear. Faster than memory.”

  Then, for the first time, he raised his right hand—palm open, claws retracted. A guardian’s farewell.

  Rowan and Lira mirrored him.

  Pyrope hesitated… but lifted his hand too.

  The gesture felt final.

  And necessary.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  The Gifts of the Dragon King

  Before they stepped onto their caravan, an armored attendant approached with a lacquered box, bowing deeply.

  “By decree of His Majesty,” he announced, “you are granted these.”

  Inside lay one badges of dark jade, carved in the sweeping spiral of the Suiryuu Crest—the symbol only Dragon Kingdom envoys were permitted to carry.

  Rowan nearly dropped his.

  “This—this is…” His voice shook. “This lets us speak before kings.”

  Tidewhisper exhaled sharply. “And shields you from border interrogations. Treasure it.”

  Lira traced the crest with trembling fingers.

  In the center of the emblem was a small, precise carving of a water-borne dragon—coiling upward, as if in eternal ascent.

  Pyrope looked at his badge last.

  It was heavier than he expected.

  A weight of trust.

  A weight of danger.

  Rhaikor clasped Rowan’s shoulder. “Take the eastern trail. The King recommends the Rooster Kingdom first.”

  Rowan blinked. “Rooster? Not Rabbit?”

  “The Rabbit King is… delicate,” Rhaikor murmured. “Your message must reach a kingdom that acts first and questions later.”

  Tidewhisper nodded slowly. “Rooster has a strong military and fast messengers. It’s a wiser start.”

  “And one more thing,” Rhaikor added. “Use the map only when needed. The path chosen for you is… unusual.”

  Rowan paled at the word.

  Lira swallowed. “Unusual how?”

  “It passes through lands most avoid. Because the beasts there do not fear travelers.”

  Pyrope’s ears twitched. “You mean… big ones?”

  Rhaikor’s expression didn’t change.

  “Yes.”

  Departure

  The caravan rumbled forward, insect legs clicking beneath the reinforced body of the giant black-ant mount. The smell of damp stone and mineral water filled the plaza as they passed through the Dragon Kingdom’s inner gate.

  Citizens watched from their balconies and platforms—quiet, respectful. Some bowed. Others simply observed, reptile eyes reflecting the morning light.

  “Feels strange,” Lira whispered. “Leaving after everything.”

  Rowan inhaled slowly. “We’ll come back one day. Stronger. With answers.”

  Tidewhisper chuckled. “One day, perhaps after giving the Rooster King a headache.”

  Pyrope stared back at the dragon towers until they were nothing but jagged silhouettes swallowed by mist.

  Rhaikor remained at the gate long after they were gone.

  Unmoving.

  Silent.

  Watching.

  The Road of Beasts

  The map the Dragon King gave them was unlike any route merchants used—drawn with old symbols, forgotten zones, and markers that even Tidewhisper struggled to decipher.

  But the message was clear:

  Take the abandoned road. The one travelers fear.

  Their caravan rolled into a region where the air changed—denser, warmer, carrying the scent of wet leaves and shifting soil. The forest ahead was thick, its shadows deep enough to swallow sound.

  Rowan tightened his grip on the reins.

  “Tidewhisper… what lives here?”

  “Things that shouldn’t,” Tidewhisper murmured. “Things the world forgot how to name.”

  Lira shivered. “Why would the Dragon King send us through this?”

  Pyrope didn’t answer.

  Because he understood.

  Strength.

  Growth.

  Exposure.

  Rhaikor hadn’t only warned him.

  He had prepared him.

  Pyrope’s Quiet Resolve

  As the caravan entered the shadowed path, Pyrope touched the Suiryuu Crest badge on his chest.

  It was warm against his skin.

  Not enough.

  Not yet.

  He would grow.

  For Havenroot.

  For Rowan and Lira.

  For the caravan that still believed in him.

  For the truth waiting beyond the horizon.

  And for the raider who still walked free.

  Somewhere, in the dark road ahead, a low chittering echoed across the trees.

  Large.

  Wet.

  Hungry.

  Tidewhisper froze. “Everyone stay alert. Something’s watching.”

  Rowan cursed softly. “So the beasts really do live here…”

  Pyrope’s heart thumped steadily—not with fear.

  But with readiness.

  If the world demanded he grow stronger—

  Then he would.

  Even if he had to walk through the jaws of monsters to do it.

  Behind them, far beyond sight, Dragon Kingdom’s mist swirled once more—as if whispering a final blessing.

  Their journey into the unknown had begun.

  Not every danger roars. Some simply wait.

  If you felt the weight of that farewell, or sensed what lies ahead, then the journey is doing its work.

  The road ahead does not allow it for long.