Clay wandered aimlessly.
“Damn it.”
He’d left the area where the soldiers had passed through—he couldn’t afford to linger there, but deciding where to go next wasn’t any easier.
“I can’t go anywhere with people…”
There was no one he could seek out, no place left that would take him in. Realizing that even his own body had nowhere to belong, Clay let out a hollow chuckle.
“So meaningless.”
Who had he fought so hard for all that time?
As he muttered to himself, he spotted smoke rising in the distance.
What is that?
It was just after dawn. The sky had only begun to brighten, and that trail of smoke crawling into the pale sky meant someone had built a fire nearby.
Soldiers, maybe?
He was still in the wastelands. There was nothing left here but ruined buildings, and only someone with a compelling reason would dare camp in such a place. That made it most likely to be a merchant caravan… or soldiers.
Haa…
He’d quenched his thirst with rainwater the night before, but now his stomach gnawed at itself with hunger.
Maybe… they don’t recognize me.
If they were from far away, there was a chance they didn’t know his face. Just in case, Clay picked up a filthy scrap of cloth lying nearby and threw it over his shoulders, covering his face.
Whooooosh.
The sand-laced wind lashed against him as he trudged forward. Finally, he reached the edge of the smoke’s origin.
There was only one thing between him and it—a sandy mound.
If he climbed over it, he could see who was on the other side.
“...Quiet.”
Didn’t seem like many people were there. Moving cautiously, Clay crept up the slope and peeked over the edge.
“!”
The moment he saw who stood below, he flinched and ducked back down.
What… what the hell…
He’d only caught a glimpse, so he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d seen it right. But still—
Slide.
He peeked again.
What met his eyes was a large campfire, burning brightly.
But the smoke wasn’t only coming from that fire. The whole area within the mound's curve was filled with flame, as if something had been repeatedly set ablaze.
And standing right in the middle of those flames… was a lone figure.
She stared blankly into the fire, unmoving.
Through the flickering blaze, her appearance came slowly into focus.
White hair, multiple horns sprouting from her head, pointed ears like an elf’s, and red eyes fixed on the fire.
A Dragonoid.
A humanoid being bearing the power of dragons, a race that was spoken of only in legend.
And Clay had met that legend once before. Or rather, the woman standing right there.
She suddenly turned her head. Their eyes met.
Fwoooosh.
Between the wavering flames, their gazes locked in midair.
“You…”
Clay was the first to speak.
“What are you doing here…?”
He shouldn’t have revealed his identity, but his shock was too great. Because she was—
“Clay.”
One of the Demon King’s Four Generals, long thought to have vanished.
“You rose again before becoming ashes.”
Even though they had just met again so suddenly, her voice was calm.
“I’m glad to see you.”
A faint smile spread across her face—as though they were no longer enemies.
♧
The Four Generals.
The Demon King’s cataclysmic right arms. Four beings of overwhelming power who had driven the world to the brink alongside him.
Among them was one who had lived so long she appeared in the myths of certain nations—the Dragonoid origin, Beatrice.
There were many rumors about why someone like her would join the Demon King.
Some claimed she had fallen in love with him. Others said she simply reveled in destruction. But there was one theory that held more weight.
The extermination of the Dragonoids—all except her.
It was said she had turned against humanity after watching her kind slaughtered while trying to aid the world in its time of need.
That… at least sounded plausible. Without such a reason, her alliance with the Demon King made no sense.
“Now that we’ve said hello, care to sit and warm yourself by the fire?”
But now, after disappearing from the Demon Realm without a trace, she was here—standing before Clay without even a hint of hostility.
“It’s not just warm—it’s hot. Would probably help on a cold morning like this.”
“What the hell…” Clay instinctively scowled, “Where’ve you been this whole time? You show up now to ambush me or something?”
“I’d really rather not deal with that self-centered paranoia,” Beatrice, the Dragonoid’s origin, gave him a calm look, “I was just warming myself by the fire. Burning everything around me, is all.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You don’t have to. Same as always.”
Clay fell silent, caught off guard. He swallowed, then managed to force out words again.
“There’s no way you don’t have some grudge against me. If you’ve got an agenda, just spill it.”
“You’re still so aggressive. I guess it really does feel like just yesterday we were trying to kill each other. I think I fought in my dragon form back then?”
Clay didn’t let down his guard. It baffled him how she could speak so casually, “Yeah… yesterday, huh? Not far from the truth. The war only ended recently.”
“And yet they executed you before you could even be honored. Tragic.”
Clay fell silent again.
Beatrice took a step toward him. He flinched and stepped back.
“Don’t come closer. I’ll summon the Holy Sword if I have to.”
“With your body like this? That would be suicide,” She wasn’t fazed in the slightest, “Did your precious companions believe in you at all?”
“……”
“You’d bare your teeth at me while starving, but did they show you even a fraction of the loyalty you’re showing them?”
Clay’s stomach grumbled loudly, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. Beatrice plucked a skewer of marshmallows from beside the fire and held it out.
“It’s not much, but it should take the edge off. If you eat, I’ll find something more nutritious later.”
“Don’t come any closer.”
“Here.”
“I said—”
Before he could finish, she was already beside him, pressing the skewer into his hand. He tried to pull back, but she was faster.
“The ‘Hero’ title doesn’t suit you anymore. You’ve gotten weak.”
She said it with a smirk, then turned and rummaged through a pack lying on the ground.
“Just wait a moment. I’ll get you something edible soon.”
But then, she stopped.
She had sensed something.
Clay stood there, gripping the skewer, grinding his teeth—eyes downcast, trying desperately to suppress whatever emotion threatened to break through.
“…What do you know.”
His whole body trembled as he muttered.
“What do you even know about humans?”
He had always stood for humanity—fighting, bleeding, and surviving in chaos and despair.
As one of them, he had understood their hearts, felt their pain, and fought for their hopes.
And yet…
“I said I’m not hungry.”
But even as he growled, something wet and sticky traced down his cheek.
His head bowed deeper.
The tears falling from his chin evaporated in the heat of the fire.
Even though he had broken the order of life and death to return, every part of him still remained bound to that order.
And that was why…
He couldn’t accept it.
The reality that he was now truly, utterly alone.
“…Sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
In the silence broken only by the crackling of flames, Beatrice resumed digging through her bag and spoke softly.
♧
“No traces left.”
Somewhere in the wastelands.
The Royal Guard Captain—who should have been protecting the Empress—was combing through the area with a few knights.
“The rain probably washed it all away.”
“Do you really think we can track him?”
“I mean… it’s just a corpse. Why would Her Majesty even want to find it…”
The muttering of the knights made the Captain frown.
“Mind your tongue.”
The desert wind swept past her, tugging at her long ponytail like a forgotten banner.
You don’t understand anything…
Lilien, the Royal Guard Captain, bit down on the sand that had blown into her mouth.
Her Majesty has already done something she can never undo.
Tasting the grit between her teeth, she was reminded of one thing.
Tia had already started walking down a path she could never turn back from.
(End of Chapter)