The night draped the battlefield in a heavy, solemn stillness. Only the crackling of fires and the hushed murmurs of the survivors stirred the darkness.
All across the scarred land, fires had been lit—small beacons of defiance against the ruin left behind.
Around them, figures moved with quiet urgency: healers weaving between groups, laying glowing hands on the wounded, while others gathered the fallen and built makeshift shelters for the night.
The tang of blood, ash, and magic still clung thickly to the air, but against it all, there was a profound sense of life.
They had survived.
Belle sat near one of the larger fires, the amber glow casting soft shadows over her face. A thick blanket, hastily thrown over her shoulders by a fussing Lena, hung loosely around her. Belle didn't need it—her Draconic Heart was already healing any remaining damage—but she didn't refuse it either. In moments like this, small gestures mattered more than words.
She watched the scene before her in silence—healers kneeling, adventurers laughing with relief, some weeping softly as the reality of survival set in.
Her silver-blue eyes reflected the flames, thoughtful and distant.
She had given them this.
A future that only hours ago seemed impossible.
Kai sat beside her, silent, arms resting on his knees, his usual playful demeanor replaced by something quieter. He would toss glances at Belle every few minutes—subtle, checking, just making sure she was really there.
He knew she was strong. But even the strongest deserved someone to watch over them.
Nearby, Darin had gathered a crowd of rookies, dramatically retelling the battle with all the exaggeration of a seasoned bard. His arms flailed wildly as he reenacted Belle's final strike against Malraketh, adding sound effects and describing her like some mythical heroine from a forgotten legend.
The rookies watched, wide-eyed, drinking in every word.
Belle couldn't help but smile a little at the sight. It's not just the scene that made her heart tickle, it's how Trinity Blade had changed since the dungeon break ordeal.
It had been three days since the fall of Malraketh and the end of Dungeon Break.
The streets of Dawnstead were alive once more. Stalls had reopened with the scent of fresh bread and spices wafting through the air. Children chased each other through alleyways as parents watched with relief, laughter slowly filling the spaces once haunted by fear. Blacksmiths hammered steel, taverns bustled with gossip, and life resumed with a fragile normalcy.
The sun was just beginning to crest the eastern wall of the town as Belle and Kai walked side by side, their footsteps quiet on the cobbled streets.
Belle's silver hair caught the morning light like a thread of moonlight, swaying slightly in the breeze. Kai walked with his usual relaxed stride, hands at the back of his head, katana strapped at his waist, but his eyes were sharp—watchful.
It was the first time either of them had returned to the Adventurer's Guild since the Dungeon Break incident.
Belle's expression was unreadable. Calm, but not detached. There was always something calculating behind her eyes—thoughts she kept buried deep, even from Kai.
As they reached the large, familiar building, the Adventurer's Guild stood exactly as they remembered—tall, proud, its thick wooden doors and stone walls untouched by the chaos of the past few days.
The heavy wooden doors creaked open as they stepped inside.
Warm light spilled across the hall from the high windows. Inside, the usual din of voices, clattering dishes, and rustling papers filled the space. Adventurers laughed over breakfast, weapons leaned against walls, and guild staff moved with practiced urgency.
Yet as Belle and Kai entered, more than a few heads turned.
Some stared. Some whispered.
They weren't just familiar faces anymore. They were survivors. Rumors had already spread, twisting the truth into wild stories—some called them heroes, others whispered about dark powers, about the monster that had come from the depths.
"Belle! Kai!"
A familiar voice rang across the guild floor.
From behind the polished wooden counter, Alina, the receptionist with platinum blonde wavy hair and gentle violet eyes, waved them over.
"You're finally back!" she said, half relief, half scolding.
"You know how many people came in asking about you?"
"What, you missed me already?" Kai replied with his usual smirk.
"You wish." Alina rolled her eyes.
"But seriously—Garrick wants to see you. He's waiting in his office."
Belle's gaze flicked up toward the back of the hallway where the guildmaster's office sat, looming like a judge's chamber.
Kai stretched, pretending to groan. "Well, good luck with that."
Alina gave him a look. "Both of you."
Kai paused mid-stretch. "…Me too?"
"Don't look so shocked. You were there too."
Kai glanced sideways at Belle and muttered, "I've got a bad feeling about this…"
The thick wooden door of the guildmaster's office towered before them.
A carved lion's head crest stared down from the center—Garrick's personal emblem. The hallway was quiet here.
Kai raised a hand and knocked once, then pushed the door open.
Inside, guildmaster Garrick stood near the tall window, his broad back turned to them. He looked every bit the war veteran he was—scarred, weathered, and solid as a boulder. His arms were folded behind him as he watched the morning drills in the courtyard below.
He didn't turn when they entered.
"Shut the door," he said.
Kai closed it quietly.
The silence stretched for several seconds.
Then Garrick finally turned, his expression grim.
"I've read the reports," he began, moving slowly toward his desk.
"Gale. Roderic. It's… detailed."
He picked up a thick stack of parchment, flipping through it without really looking.
"But all of it is surface-level. Quite literally."
He dropped the pages on the desk with a thud.
"No one knows what happened in the depths. No one saw what truly happened in that dungeon except the two of you. And to be fair, I've never thought Roderic would let just the two of you into the dungeon."
He gestured to the seats across from him.
"So. Tell me."
Kai glanced at Belle. She gave a faint nod before sitting down.
"I want the truth," Garrick continued.
"This stays between us. Nothing you say here will go into the official record. I need to know what we're dealing with."
Belle folded her hands in her lap, voice calm.
"The monsters… they were corrupted. Their behavior, their strength—it wasn't natural."
"The corruption came from miasma," Kai added, his tone more serious than usual.
"The deeper we go, the denser the miasma. Thick enough to choke on."
Garrick's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes shifted.
"…You're sure?"
"We've both seen it before," Belle said.
"This was the same. Maybe worse."
Garrick leaned back slowly, jaw clenched.
"That's not possible. Miasma has only ever been documented in the Forbidden Forest. Most certainly not in dungeons. Not anywhere else in the world."
"We know what we felt," Kai said. "And I nearly died from it."
His words hung heavier than he meant.
Garrick narrowed his eyes.
"Wait. If the miasma was that thick—how did you survive?"
Kai opened his mouth, then froze.
Shoot! I wasn't supposed to say that, nobody knows about Belle's immunity to miasma.
But Belle remained composed.
"I'm immune to miasma," she said simply.
The room fell silent.
Garrick stared. "What did you say?"
Belle continued, unfazed. "I was immune to miasma but Kai wasn't. I gave him a high-grade potion to slow the symptoms. But its effect was slow under miasma influence."
"When the monster escaped the dungeon with Belle, the miasma vanished," Kai added. "That's when the potion finally kicked in. If we had stayed longer…" He trailed off.
Garrick exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face.
"Immune to miasma… That shouldn't be possible. Even the best mages can only delay the effects, not resist them."
Belle shifted in her seat slightly.
"I don't have all the answers either. But the core of the dungeon—it wasn't just a magical construct. It had changed. It mutated. I think the miasma was the cause."
"You're saying… the dungeon itself was altered? Not by mana, but by miasma?"
"Yes. I'm sure that you've read it from the reports, the monster's strength was way off the chart compared to the other monsters."
"Even someone as strong as Roderic was having a hard time landing a damaging hit on it." Kai added.
Garrick stood slowly, walking to the shelves behind him. He stared at a large map of Eldoria on the wall—one filled with dungeon markings, ley lines, and known miasma zones.
"This… changes everything." He turned back, his voice heavy.
"Dungeons have always been believed to form from mana accumulation over a long period of time. If miasma can also form dungeons, or worse—corrupt them…"
Belle finished his sentence for him.
"Then our entire understanding of dungeons is flawed. Exploration, classification, risk levels—all of it."
Garrick nodded grimly.
"This doesn't go in the reports. Not yet. The Council would panic. And the Kingdom…"
He paused, then finally sat again, resting his hands on the desk.
"There's something else."
He slid one of the reports across the desk.
"Roderic mentioned your elemental affinity. Said you used both fire and lightning in perfect coordination. Not just one spell after the other. But at the same time."
Belle gave a faint nod. "That's correct."
"I remember you asking me, once," Garrick said. "About combination magic. You wanted to know if it was possible to merge elements, not just switch between them. I told you the theory existed—but no one had ever pulled it off."
"She did more than pull it off," Kai said, grinning. "She weaponized it. Like watching thunder catch fire."
Garrick's brow furrowed. "Can you combine them?"
Belle met his gaze without hesitation.
"Yes. I've done it multiple times."
The guildmaster went still. His mouth opened… then closed.
He sank back into his chair like someone who had just realized the storm on the horizon wasn't a storm—but a dragon.
"…What else are you not telling me?" he asked, quieter now.
"That kind of power—the one you used to defeat the monster—it's not natural. Not even among prodigies."
Belle paused. Then answered with quiet certainty.
"It's called aura. That's all I can say."
Garrick's eyes widened slightly.
Kai leaned in with a shrug.
"I can use it too, technically. Belle taught me how to use it. But mine can't turn the ground into molten ash."
There was a long silence.
Then Garrick barked a short, incredulous laugh—half disbelief, half awe.
"You're going to break this world someday, girl."
Belle looked him in the eye.
"I didn't ask for any of those…"
Garrick stood in silence for a moment, then turned away from them. He walked slowly toward the far wall of his modest office, the floor creaking faintly beneath his boots.
He came to a stop in front of an old display rack—its wooden frame polished with time, housing weapons no longer in use but preserved like relics. Swords dulled by age, a cracked axehead, and a tattered banner from a forgotten campaign.
He rested one hand against the hilt of a rusted longsword, fingertips brushing the worn leather grip with something between reverence and regret. His voice, when he finally spoke, carried a weight it hadn't before.
"Word of what happened here is going to spread," he said.
"Slow at first. Whispers in taverns. Mentions in adventurer reports. But then—like wildfire. Once the higher-ups in the Capital catch wind of it, there's no putting it back in the bottle."
He turned slightly, casting a glance over his shoulder at Belle and Kai.
"I don't have the resources to protect you here. This isn't like the subjugation quest where we could quietly patch things up and pretend nothing happened. This time is different."
He sighed and looked back toward the sword rack.
"And frankly... keeping power like yours tucked away in a backwater like Dawnstead would be a waste."
Kai crossed his arms, leaning against the side of Garrick's desk with a skeptical look.
"So what do you suggest? We run?"
Garrick shook his head.
"I'm not telling you to hide, or to flee like fugitives. But your life as an adventurer… it's going to change. This kind of power? It draws attention. From the good and the bad. From those who want to use you, and those who want to erase you."
He stepped away from the rack and sat back down heavily in his chair.
"There's going to be hardship. Trouble will follow you—like shadow follows flame."
Kai scoffed, placing his hands behind his head with a lazy grin.
"Well, if anyone's dumb enough to come looking for trouble after what Belle did out there… then they deserve whatever they get."
Belle hadn't spoken since the conversation began. She sat, perfectly still, her silver hair cascading over her shoulders like moonlight. Her gaze was distant, focused inward. The fight. The flames. The silence afterward.
Her purpose in coming to Dawnstead had never been to show power. She had only wanted answers—about this world, her powers, and perhaps even herself. But at every turn, she had drawn attention instead.
Unwanted attention.
Finally, she broke her silence. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the room like a blade through still water.
"…What do you know about the Cyber Dragon?"
End of Chapter 78