"Lyra? Lyra, what’s going on? Speak to me!" Nolan’s voice trembled as he looked down at her limp form. She wasn’t responding. Her breathing was shallow, and her body felt far too light in his arms.
Panic surged through him. He scooped her up, clutching her tightly against his chest, and bolted. His speed was unmatched—less than three seconds later, he burst through the streets and arrived at his mansion. The sky was pale, the first hints of dawn spreading across the horizon.
Celia and Linda were still outside, standing guard over the man they had tied up. When they saw Nolan, they waved in relief. "Master!" Both of them ran forward. Celia opened the large entrance immediately, but as her eyes fell on Lyra, she froze. "Master... did you summon her? Is she just sleeping?"
"No," Nolan snapped, his voice sharper than intended. He shifted Lyra in his arms, his face etched with worry. "Something’s wrong."
Linda’s expression turned pale. "What happened, Master? Is she going to be okay?"
Nolan nodded firmly, though his eyes betrayed his unease. "She’s alive. But she’s in terrible pain. She’s drained herself. Even now, I can feel her mana leaking away... as if she’s still fighting to protect something."
He laid Lyra gently down on a nearby bench, then knelt beside her, holding her hand. His grip tightened. I remember... there’s a way. The transfer of mana.
"Hold her upright," Nolan ordered.
Celia and Linda obeyed immediately, carefully pulling away the dust-stained fabric at Lyra’s back. Nolan placed both palms against her bare skin, closing his eyes. He pictured the flow of energy and willed his own mana into her.
A soft glow spread between his hands and her body. Slowly, the raggedness of her breathing eased. Her chest rose and fell more evenly. The deathly pallor on her face softened with color.
"She’s stabilizing," Nolan whispered, relief flooding him. They carried her inside, laying her gently on her bed. Her torn and dirtied clothes spoke of the battle she had endured. Nolan brushed strands of hair from her forehead, his gaze filled with something dangerous.
"You actually fought him," he murmured. "The Divine Dragon King. And you survived... barely." His voice hardened, a storm building behind his words. "I don’t care who it was—even if it was a god himself. Whoever did this to you will pay. They will pay dearly for harming one of mine."
Darkness erupted around him. A violent aura pulsed through the room, shaking the walls. The table rattled, the window shutters banged open and shut, and the bed itself groaned under the pressure. Celia and Linda staggered, their knees nearly buckling as if gravity itself pressed down on them.
"M-Master! Control yourself!" Celia shouted, shielding her face from the oppressive force. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡•𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚•𝙣𝙚𝙩
Nolan blinked, snapping out of it. The fury ebbed slightly, though the room still hummed with lingering power. He exhaled sharply. "Sorry... I lost myself again."
He turned his attention back to Lyra, brushing his thumb across her knuckles. The dawn had fully broken now, the room bathed in gold light. Nolan glanced at Celia and Linda. "Go. Tell the Guildmaster about those people who attacked us last night."
"But, Master—" Linda started, her voice trembling.
"No," Nolan cut her off gently but firmly. "I’m fine. Lyra will wake soon. I can feel it. Please... just do as I say."
Reluctantly, Celia and Linda exchanged glances, then nodded. "Yes, Master." They bowed and left the room.
Hours passed. Nolan sat silently by Lyra’s bedside, never once taking his eyes off her. Finally, her eyelashes fluttered, and her lips parted.
"M... Master? Is that you?"
Nolan was at her side instantly, clutching her hand with both of his. "Lyra! You’re awake. Thank the heavens... I was so worried." His voice cracked with relief as he leaned closer. "You’re safe now. I’m here."
Lyra’s eyelashes fluttered weakly as she looked up at him. Her voice was faint, almost a whisper. "Master... how are you here? And... how did you find me?"
Nolan’s eyes softened. "Have you forgotten already?" he said gently. "You’re a Divine Beast, Lyra. I tamed you. Anything I’ve tamed... I can summon no matter where they are in the world."
Lyra blinked at him slowly, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "So... that’s why I’m here." She managed a faint, trembling smile. "I’m so glad to see you, Master."
Nolan’s expression hardened just slightly. "Tell me, Lyra—who did this to you? Was it the Divine Dragon King you told me about?"
Lyra’s breath caught. She turned her head slightly away, but her answer came out soft and bitter. "Yes... it was him. He’s grown so powerful, Master. Even for me. If I’d unleashed my full strength..." she paused, her hands trembling, "...we could have shattered the world."
Nolan’s jaw clenched. "And yet nothing happened. If a battle like that had truly occurred, most nations—this entire village, Sindra included—would’ve been wiped out. But no one even sensed your fight. That’s not normal."
Lyra gave a small, tired nod. "It isn’t. I made sure of it. I sealed the impact of our battle, contained it within a barrier. Any attack, any shockwave, any fragment of energy—I didn’t let it leak out. No human lives lost, no villages destroyed. That was my priority."
Nolan’s brows furrowed. "You were fighting him... while maintaining a shield strong enough to cage gods?"
"Yes." Her voice cracked. "But even if I hadn’t maintained the shield..." She closed her eyes, her lashes trembling. "...the outcome wouldn’t have been different. I still would have lost."
Nolan’s chest tightened at her words. "You’re injured more deeply than I thought." He raised his hand and placed it gently on her head. "Don’t speak."
A warm golden glow spread from his palm across her entire body. Every scratch and cut closed at once, leaving only smooth skin behind. The faint traces of blood faded. Her aura steadied. But even after the healing light dimmed, Lyra remained weak, her body still trembling with exhaustion.
Nolan brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You fought alone to protect everyone. You’ve done enough." His voice dropped to a low promise, one only she could hear. "I’ll take it from here."