The wind struck his face, and sweat burned his eyes, but Min Jun didn't stop.
The closer he got to the village, the heavier his breaths became not from exhaustion, but because of one overwhelming thought:
"No… no way… impossible."
He muttered it as he ran with everything he had.
The path was hazy not only from the smoke, but from fear itself.
In the distance, he could see flames devouring rooftops and smoke rising to the sky.
Still, he didn't slow down. He ran faster. A voice inside him screamed:
"If I make it in time… they might still be alive."
But another voice lingered:
"What if no one survived? What if Father is gone? What if Mother…"
He exhaled sharply, shook his head, and shouted in his mind:
"Stop it! They're stronger than death. Father has his sword aura… and Mother always finds a way to survive."
But his heart found no peace.
He was scared.
He closed his eyes for a moment as he ran, recalling his father his voice, his features, his tired laugh.
He remembered his mother placing food before him in silence. Her gaze alone said everything.
He gasped and opened his eyes.
The fire was closer. The heat filled the air. Smoke was crawling toward the forest.
"No… I won't accept this."
The thought refused to leave stubborn and heavy:
"I wasn't a good son… I didn't help Father… I didn't listen to Mother…"
He bit his lip until it bled, but he kept going.
"This isn't the end. I won't come back to find my family turned to ash."
He ran, eyes burning both with fire… and something deeper.
At the village entrance, Min Jun slowed down.
He wasn't alone.
Several villagers had gathered outside the gates. Some were screaming, some trying to run back inside to save others, and others were filling buckets with water from the nearby well, rushing toward the blaze.
But the fire was faster than them.
One man slipped while running, spilling his water before he could get there.
Min Jun passed them, rushing in, through the screams and the ash.
The air was thick. The visibility was poor.
In the first alley, he stopped.
A woman stood there or what was left of her.
Her body was completely charred, frozen in a single posture: her arm raised toward the sky, as if begging someone who never came.
Min Jun stared at her, frozen.
He couldn't recognize anyone anymore he didn't know if she was a neighbor, a relative, or a stranger.
Everyone had become lost faces in the fire.
From inside, more screams rose.
The cries of children, women, men.
A door slammed open… then collapsed.
The stench of burning flesh began to spread.
His breathing was sharp, his feet sinking into dirt and smoke, but he didn't stop.
He kept going, his eyes darting around,
rushing, slowing, running without direction, screaming:
"Father!"
"Mother!"
He shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the chaos.
To the right, the neighbor's hut had vanished.
To the left, the barn had collapsed, and the animals were gone.
Then he saw it.
The dragon.
Not a myth but a disaster.
Its body was dark, eyes glowing, wings whipping the wind, and every breath igniting flames.
Every movement brought down a house.
Min Jun gasped as part of his own roof fell.
He ran toward it, but the heat forced him back.
"No… this can't be…"
He looked around, searching through the smoke.
Had anyone survived?
Did he catch a glimpse of a face?
A voice? Anything?
He found only silence.
He stood in the middle of the road,
smoke cloaking the sky,
and the screams had vanished.
Then he looked up.
His eyes locked onto the dragon's shadow.
"You did this?"
He whispered, his chest burning.
But this time, the fire wasn't from the outside.
It came from within.
Min Jun stood there, paralyzed.
He wanted to run but his legs wouldn't move.
He wanted to cry out but his voice had failed him.
All he could do… was watch.
He watched the flames.
The burning wood.
The past falling apart before him, beyond reach.
The sky was covered in smoke.
And the dragon… was gone.
As it came, it left.
It rose into the sky calmly, disappearing behind the clouds, as if it had never been.
But the village did not disappear.
It burned.
Min Jun collapsed to his knees.
Ash covered the ground.
He reached for it, held it… but it scattered through his fingers.
"I couldn't do anything…"
He whispered, a voice no one would hear.
"I didn't save them… not Father, not Mother… I didn't even hear their voices."
He struck the ground, but it didn't respond.
Everything went silent.
No screams.
No flames.
No movement.
Just him…
and the rain that began to fall slowly, quietly as if trying to wash away what remained.
He raised his head.
His eyes were red, and his face stained black.
The world around him was nothing but ash.
But he stayed there, standing,
alone,
witness to a place… that had once been home.
Min Jun stepped toward what remained of his house.
Everything was scorched.
The wood was blackened, and smoke still rose from the ruins.
He stood there for a moment, then whispered in a trembling voice:
"Mother… I'm here."
"I made it home… safe."
Silence. Then he continued, voice cracking:
"Just… just answer me. Please."
He sank to his knees.
His hands touched the ground, and tears fell quietly.
He slowly raised his head, his eyes glistening with tears.
"Father… Mother…"
No one answered.
The house was empty.
Only ashes.
Min Jun cried.
He cried because he couldn't save them.
He cried because he was too late.
He cried because he was alone.
…He cried in silence.
As he sat there, head raised, eyes full of tears,
he slowly looked toward the burnt staircase inside the house.
Then, for a moment… he saw something.
A little girl sitting on the steps, laughing,
lifting her head toward him with a look of defiance.
"I'm not too little to be laughed at."
She said it in that familiar voice… her usual tone.
His eyes widened.
He whispered in a broken voice:
"Sister?"
But there was no one.
The place was empty…
the stairs were broken…
and the voice had only existed in his mind.
It was a scene he imagined.
Just one moment… he wanted to see her so badly, he made it up.
He covered his face with his hands.
"There's no one left…"
He muttered, voice trembling.
He was alone.
And all that remained… were memories.
He buried his face in his hands, tears pouring without end.
A heavy feeling in his chest…
as if something inside him had shattered and would never be whole again.
And suddenly…
within him, amid the silence…
her voice appeared.
Soft… warm… familiar.
"Wake up, my son."
"Don't cry… you're grown now."
"You're not that little boy anymore."
He slowly lifted his head.
She wasn't there…
she wasn't in the house.
But her voice echoed clearly in his memory.
He remembered how she'd sit beside him whenever he fell or felt scared…
patting his head, wiping his tears, always saying the same words.
But now…
no one was there to wipe his tears.
Just him…
with ash, tears, and the voice that would never return.
On the edge of a distant mountain stood three figures in black cloaks,
their faces cloaked in shadow, only cold smiles on their lips visible.
One of them spoke in a calm but firm voice:
"The mission is complete, my lord."