Nidhogg’s entire body convulsed in agony. A scream ripped from his throat, shaking the world. Black energy erupted from the wound, spiderwebbing through his body like cracks in shattered glass. The ground beneath them trembled as his head thrashed, and Siegfried clung to his blade, driving it deeper with everything he had.

“You think this is victory, boy?” Nidhogg’s voice, once booming, was now heavy and worn—tinged with resignation. “You’ve slain a dragon… but you’ve defeated nothing.”

Star stepped forward cautiously, her sword still raised. “What are you talking about? Speak clearly—Monster!”

A bitter, hollow laugh rumbled from the fading titan. “Monster… is that what I am to you? You know nothing of who I am… or why I was brought here. I do not belong to this world.”

Star’s gaze flicked toward her friends—uneasy.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice tightening. “You came from Atlantia… didn’t you?”

Nidhogg’s glowing eyes met hers. A glimmer of sorrow flickered in their fading light.

“I lived beneath the roots of the Tree of Life for centuries,” he rasped. “I watched its cycles, tended to its echoes, preserved the balance of its flow. I came from the depths—far below the petty chaos of gods and men. I had no part in your wars.”

His voice darkened.

“Until Nibelung came.”

Star’s heart clenched. “Nibelung… what did he do?”

“He tore through the Veil of Dimension,” Nidhogg snarled, his voice rising with pain and wrath. “He dragged me from my sanctuary. Shattered the harmony I was sworn to protect. He forced me to the surface—not of my will, but his. I was his pawn, chained to his purpose. He brought me here… to sow ruin. To burn your world to ash.”

The battlefield fell silent, save for Nidhogg’s ragged breaths as his body slowly began to collapse.

“He believes this world is beyond repair,” the dragon continued. “A broken shell, unworthy of salvation. So he seeks to erase it all—to tear down this flawed creation and remake it in his own twisted image. I… was to be the hammer. The first strike to shatter your sacred land.”

Star’s grip on her weapon tightened, her voice trembling. “And you agreed to this? Why would you agree to such destruction?”

“I agreed to nothing!” Nidhogg roared, his voice shaking the air itself. “I am a guardian, not a destroyer! But Nibelung’s power shackled me, bound me to his will. I became his tool, his weapon. My purpose was corrupted, my very existence twisted into something I never wanted.”

His voice faltered, tinged with sorrow. “Do you understand now, child? I fight you not because I want to, but because I have no other choice.”

The dragon’s great head bowed, his voice softening, almost mournful. “You have freed me from his chains, and for that... I thank you. But know this — your battle has only just begun. Nibelung’s hatred for this world runs deeper than you can imagine, and his vision... his madness... will destroy everything you hold dear.”

The dragon’s massive body trembled, glowing cracks spreading across his scales. His voice, fading, echoed one final time.

“Perhaps now I can return to the roots. To a place of peace. To my true home. Beware, little hero. Beware the branches you tread... for they may yet break beneath you.”

Siegfried stepped down from Nidhogg’s fallen form, his breathing ragged and uneven. His legs trembled as they touched the ground, his body weary from the exhausting battle. His sword felt heavier than ever, but his eyes, filled with resolve, shimmered with quiet relief.

“Siegfried!” Star’s voice broke the silence, shaking with emotion. She ran toward him, her steps hurried and unsteady. When she reached him, she threw her arms around him, holding him tightly, as if afraid he might vanish.

Her face pressed against his chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I thought... I thought I lost you,” she sobbed, her voice muffled but thick with fear and relief.

Siegfried stood still for a moment, surprised by the sudden embrace, but then his expression softened. Gently, he placed his hand on the girl’s head, his fingers combing through her hair as he spoke in a calm, reassuring voice.

“I’m here, Star. I’m not going anywhere.”

Star didn’t let go, clinging to Siegfried as if letting go would make her fears come true. He tilted his face down toward her, brushing her tears away with his thumb.

“See? I’m okay,” he said, offering a faint, reassuring smile. “No more tears now. We won, didn’t we?”

Before Star could answer, Klara and Friedrich came running toward them, their expressions mirroring the relief in the air.

Klara threw her arms around Star and Siegfried, hugging them tightly. “Don’t ever do something that reckless again, Siegfried! We really thought we lost you this time!”

Siegfried chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Friedrich joined the group, throwing his arms around the three of them in a theatrical fashion.

“Ugh, group hugs always get me emotional. I’m not crying, you’re crying!” He sniffled dramatically, earning an exasperated laugh from Klara.

“You’re the worst, Friedrich,” Klara muttered, her voice breaking into relieved laughter.

“Hey, don’t be like that,” Friedrich replied, grinning. “I’m just saying, if Siegfried decided to kick the bucket, I’d have to take over his job — and honestly, none of us are ready for that.”

The group broke into a mix of laughter and warm smiles, the tension of the battle finally giving way to shared relief.

Astrid, standing a few steps away, watched the scene unfold in silence. Her bow hung loosely in her hand, the divine energy that once glowed now dimmed. She stared at the lingering shimmer of the dimensional crack, her expression unreadable. Then, in a soft voice, almost reverently, she spoke to no one in particular.

“I did it, Mother,” she murmured. “I helped the hero. I hope you’re watching me from Heaven. I hope... you’re proud of me.”

The others, noticing her standing alone, approached. Star stepped forward, her eyes still glistening.

“Astrid,” she began gently, “thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

Klara and Friedrich nodded in agreement, and even Siegfried offered her a small, grateful smile. Astrid turned to them, surprised, then slowly nodded.

“I just did what had to be done,” she said, her voice calm, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of emotion. “But... thank you.”

Their bodies aching, spirits lifted, the group slowly began to make their way out of the cave. The ground beneath them was strewn with debris, and the air still carried the faint hum of the dimensional rift, which was now quietly sealing itself shut. The tear in the sky, once so terrifying, shrank until it vanished completely, leaving behind only the soft echoes of their footsteps.

As they emerged from the cave, the faint light of dawn peeked over the horizon. For the first time since entering the darkness, they felt a glimmer of hope. This wasn’t the end — it was only the beginning.

But for now, in this brief moment of peace, they allowed themselves to breathe — together.