Volume 1: The Fourth Holy Grail War
Chapter 18: The White Dragon’s Dream
Months quietly passed.
Ren and Morgan continued their journey across Fairy Britain.
They crossed flourishing forests where spirits danced beneath moonlight.
They climbed mountains untouched since the Age of Gods.
They passed through fairy domains where laughter and tragedy coexisted beneath the same sky.
Everywhere they went…
They left something behind.
Sometimes it was a repaired village.
Sometimes it was a lesson.
Sometimes…
It was simply hope.
Without realizing it…
The siblings had become well known throughout the western regions of Fairy Britain.
Among humans…
They were called The Wandering Siblings.
Among fairies…
Some respectfully referred to them as The Children of the Runes.
Others…
Whispered another title.
The Wandering Savior.
Ren still disliked hearing it.
“I told you…”
Morgan smiled while reading a notice posted inside a small town.
“They’re calling you that again.”
Ren sighed.
“I wish they’d stop.”
“You’ll have to tell every village individually.”
“…Don’t tempt me.”
Morgan couldn’t help laughing.
“You’d actually try.”
“I probably would.”
Several days later…
The peaceful roads gradually disappeared.
The forests grew quieter.
The birds stopped singing.
Even the wind seemed unusually heavy.
Ren instinctively slowed his pace.
“…Something feels wrong.”
Morgan silently nodded.
“I’ve felt it since yesterday.”
“The mana…”
“…is becoming unstable.”
The further they traveled…
The stranger the landscape became.
The grass gradually turned pale white.
Ancient trees twisted into impossible shapes.
Fragments of enormous bones lay half-buried beneath the earth.
Each one was larger than an entire house.
Ren stopped before one such fragment.
“…A dragon…”
Morgan gently touched its surface.
“No.”
“Something much greater.”
Even after countless centuries…
The bones still contained traces of overwhelming Mystery.
The surrounding mana naturally flowed toward them.
As though paying silent respect.
By sunset…
The siblings reached an enormous valley.
Neither of them spoke.
They simply stared.
A colossal arm rested within the valley.
Half buried beneath layers of ancient earth and shimmering black mud.
White scales covered its surface.
Each scale was larger than a carriage.
The arm alone stretched beyond the horizon.
It was impossible to imagine the size of the complete dragon.
“…”
Morgan slowly exhaled.
“…Albion.”
Ren silently nodded.
One of the oldest dragons.
A being whose death had become part of Britain’s foundation itself.
Even lying lifeless before them…
The remains radiated enough pressure to make ordinary magi collapse.
The valley was eerily silent.
No animals.
No insects. This story is hosted at g.com.
Nothing.
Only the distant sound of thick mud slowly shifting.
Ren looked toward the enormous hand.
“…Do you hear that?”
Morgan frowned.
“Hear what?”
“…Someone…”
“…is crying.”
Morgan blinked.
“I don’t hear anything.”
Ren slowly walked toward Albion’s arm.
Each step became heavier.
Not because of magical pressure.
But because…
The sadness surrounding this place was almost tangible.
It seeped into the air itself.
As though countless years of loneliness had never disappeared.
Then—
A voice.
Very weak.
Almost inaudible.
“…”
“…”
“…alone…”
Ren stopped.
“…Who’s there?”
Morgan immediately looked around.
“Ren?”
“…Didn’t you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
He frowned.
“The voice.”
“There isn’t one.”
The whisper came again.
Softer than before.
“…cold…”
“…dark…”
“…alone…”
Ren’s chest tightened.
It wasn’t malicious.
Nor threatening.
It sounded…
Like a child who had been waiting for someone for an unimaginably long time.
Ignoring Morgan’s confused expression…
Ren slowly approached the massive dragon arm.
The black mud surrounding it rippled gently.
Then…
A tiny sphere of pale white light emerged.
It floated weakly above the mud.
Its light flickered constantly.
As though it might disappear at any moment.
Morgan widened her eyes.
“…A spirit?”
Ren slowly knelt.
The little light drifted toward him cautiously.
Like a frightened child.
It circled around him once.
Twice.
Before finally stopping directly in front of his face.
“…Hello.”
Ren smiled gently.
“My name is Ren.”
The little light trembled.
No words came.
Only emotions.
Loneliness.
Sadness.
Confusion.
An endless desire…
To not be alone anymore.
Ren quietly extended one finger.
The light hesitated.
Several long seconds passed.
Then…
It carefully touched his fingertip.
Warmth spread through the valley.
The oppressive atmosphere surrounding Albion’s remains weakened ever so slightly.
Morgan watched in stunned silence. New chapters come out on g.com first.
“…It trusts you…”
Images suddenly flashed through Ren’s mind.
A gigantic white dragon soaring through endless skies.
The Age of Gods.
Ancient Britain.
Countless battles.
Then—
Darkness.
Silence.
An eternity buried beneath the earth.
Waiting.
Always waiting.
For someone.
Anyone.
The visions disappeared.
Ren opened his eyes once more.
The tiny light continued floating before him.
It had no name.
No identity.
Only memories.
“…”
He smiled softly.
“You’ve waited long enough.”
The little light gently bobbed.
As though listening.
“…Everyone deserves a name.”
Ren looked toward the distant sky.
For some reason…
Only one name came to mind.
“…Mélusine.”
The instant he spoke—
The little sphere of light shone brilliantly.
The entire valley trembled.
Countless white particles rose from Albion’s remains like falling stars.
For the first time in countless ages…
Joy replaced loneliness.
“Mélusine.”
Ren repeated with a smile.
“Do you like it?”
The little light happily circled around him several times before resting on his shoulder.
Morgan blinked.
“…I…”
“…I think she just answered.”
Ren laughed quietly.
“I think so too.”
Far beneath the earth…
Within Albion’s sleeping remains…
Something ancient stirred.
Not awakening.
Not yet.
But responding.
As though the dragon itself had acknowledged the name bestowed upon its lingering consciousness.
The sun slowly disappeared beneath the horizon.
Golden light illuminated the valley one last time.
Ren looked toward the enormous dragon arm.
“…We’ll come back.”
“I promise.”
The little light gently rubbed against his cheek.
Trust.
Hope.
Happiness.
Emotions that had not existed only moments before.
As the siblings walked away…
The tiny light followed quietly behind them.
Like a child afraid of being left alone again.
Neither Ren nor Morgan noticed…
High above the clouds…
An unseen gaze silently watched the scene unfold.
A faint ripple spread through the World itself.
As though the Planet had quietly acknowledged a new connection.
One born not through power…
Nor destiny…
But through simple kindness.
And somewhere beyond mortal perception…
A certain River Goddess smiled.
The first thread of another destined meeting…
Had finally been woven.
End of Chapter 18