They walked further down the street, the city thinning into cracked pavement and abandoned storefronts.
Celeste slipped the manga tutorial and her jumper into her backpack, tightening the straps.
Silver glanced at it.
“I have often wondered,” he said lightly, “why you insist on wearing that adorable insult to fashion everywhere.”
She blinked at him. “My backpack?”
“Yes.”
She grinned. “You never know when you need snacks. Or bandages. Or sketchbooks. Or carry people’s things.”
As if summoned by the universe’s impeccable timing—
A groan echoed from the alley ahead.
Three sugar-glazed corpses staggered into view, icing splitting at the joints.
Celeste’s eyes lit up.
She summoned her katanas in a shimmer of light.
“See?”
Silver exhaled slowly and called Windswept into his hand, the bow forming in silver-blue arcs. He was still a little unsure in this part of the city. Still aware of the optics. Still aware of himself.
But he straightened regardless.
“To be clear,” he said smoothly, “I will of course protect you.”
Celeste was already charging forward.
“First one to kill ten wins!”
Silver paused.
“This is childish,” he declared.
Then he glanced subtly left.
Right.
No council observers.
No judging Inner Ring.
Only cracked pavement and wobbling sugar corpses.
“…If you insist,” he added, stepping forward. “I will not be beaten.”
Celeste sliced through the first two in a clean cross-cut, frosting spraying.
She giggled. “Come on, Arcturus. You’re better than that.”
Silver’s mouth curved into a charming, determined smile. He drew, loosed—
But the arrow didn’t fly the way he expected.
It burst from the bow in a quick flare of radiant energy, streaking forward in a luminous snap and leaving glowing runes hanging in the air behind it like little stars.
The shot struck a zombie square in the chest and blasted it backward.
Silver blinked.
“What—?”
Celeste looked over, delighted. “You did a proper move!”
He stared at the fading runes in the air. “I did, didn’t I?”
Another zombie lurched at him. Instinct took over. He loosed again—
Starshot.
A sharp burst of radiant energy punched through the creature’s head, the glowing trail curling behind it in elegant script.
Silver laughed in startled disbelief. “I can do special moves?”
“Yes!” Celeste chirped, as if this were the most obvious thing in the world.
Then she spun back into the horde, both blades flashing outward.
Lunar Cross.
A quick X-shaped slash carved through two oncoming candy corpses, starry light lingering in the wake of her blades before the bodies split apart and dissolved into glittering exp.
Silver stared for half a second too long.
“That,” he said, almost offended, “was unnecessarily dramatic.”
Celeste beamed. “Thank you!”
More shambling shapes poured from a shattered café window.
They moved down the street together now—no formation, no politics.
Just motion.
Silver vaulted over a toppled cart, firing mid-air. Celeste ducked under his arrow’s arc, trusting him completely.
He felt it.
The trust.
And something in him loosened.
Another wave staggered from the left. Celeste laughed and launched herself into them recklessly, blades flashing.
Silver didn’t lecture.
Didn’t posture.
He followed.
He moved faster now—less measured, more instinctive. Mana thrummed under his skin.
For a moment, he wasn’t Lord Arcturus.
Not heir.
Not council-trained.
He was dragon.
Bold.
A little reckless.
Alive.
He drew another arrow.
This one felt different.
He loosed it—then frowned as it shot forward more slowly than it should have, glowing brighter and brighter as it travelled.
“A delayed charge?” he muttered.
A second later—
Comet Arrow.
The projectile exploded in a brilliant burst of light, taking out three zombies at once and showering the street in sparkling mana.
Silver actually shouted, voice bright with delight, “This is incredible!”
Celeste turned in the middle of a step, and for a heartbeat she forgot to fight.
He looked so happy.
So free.
Not polished.
Not guarded.
Not careful.
Just joyous.
She beamed at him so brightly it almost rivalled the spell.
“See?” she called. “You’re brilliant at this!”
He laughed—openly now—and fired again.
They raced the rest of the street, shouting numbers that no longer mattered.
Seven.
Eight.
Maybe nine.
Silver vaulted off a streetlamp base and landed hard, blade-edge of the bow striking a puppypop through brittle sugar bone.
Celeste slid beneath a lunging glutonne brute and sliced upward clean through its core.
Frosting dust sparkled in the fading light like ridiculous, sugary snow.
Then the street shook.
A heavier shape dragged itself from the wreckage ahead—bigger than the rest, swollen with layered sugar flesh and old mana, its body studded with half-melted jawbreakers and crystal frosting plates. Its maw split open with a wet crackle, and a warped beam of pink light began to gather in its throat.
Celeste skidded to a stop.
“Oh,” she said. “That one looks annoying.”
Silver lowered Windswept, eyes narrowing as the thing charged straight toward them.
“Yes,” he said smoothly, stepping into place beside her. “I rather think subtlety has left the building.”
The brute lunged.
Celeste moved first, darting in low, blades flashing in twin arcs that carved glowing cuts across its legs—but the creature powered through the damage, roaring as it swung a massive sugared arm toward her.
“Celeste—!”
Silver loosed a shot instantly.
Starshot burst from Windswept, radiant energy slamming into the monster’s shoulder and knocking the blow off course just enough for Celeste to roll free.
She came up fast, breathing hard, ears pinned, hair wild around her face.
“It’s tougher than the others,” she said.
Silver’s gaze flicked over it, then to her.
“We hit it together.”
Celeste blinked.
Then grinned.
“Oh. Oh, that sounds promising.”
The brute reared back again, pink mana boiling in its jaws.
Silver lifted Windswept, light gathering at the string. Celeste crossed her katanas, their edges beginning to shimmer with star-white radiance.
For one strange, breathless second, their mana touched.
Not collided.
Touched.
Silver felt it like a current running up his arms—bright, lunar, warm and endless.
Celeste gasped softly as his power answered hers, gold and silver winding into her starlight like threads being braided together.
The air around them changed.
Runes spiraled into existence beneath their feet. Light curled around Silver’s bow like the shape of a dragon’s spine, while Celeste’s blades left arcs of constellations in the air.
She looked at him, wide-eyed. “Silver…”
He stared at the light gathering between them.
“…I don’t think this is supposed to happen,” he admitted.
The brute roared.
Celeste’s grin sharpened. “Let’s do it anyway.”
Silver laughed—a little wild now. “Agreed.”
They moved as one.
Celeste leapt forward, crossing both blades in a blazing star-shaped slash while Silver fired straight through the center of it. The arrow struck the crossed trails of light—
—and transformed.
The combined attack erupted into a spiralling celestial dragon made of silver-gold radiance and stardust, its body coiling through the street in a magnificent arc. Constellations flared across its scales. Its jaws opened in a silent, luminous roar.
Astral Dragonfall.
The dragon slammed into the brute.
For a heartbeat the whole street went white.
Then the impact burst outward in a ring of starfire, sending sugar shards, pink mist, and glowing runes scattering in every direction. The zombie brute froze mid-lunge, cracks racing through its body in constellated lines—
—and shattered completely.
The exp showered across the street like glittering rain.
Silence followed.
Then Celeste landed in a skid, laughing in breathless disbelief.
Silver lowered his bow, staring at the fading trails of the dragon in the air.
“…We just did that,” he said.
“We did!” Celeste squeaked. “We had a move! A proper move!”
She ran to him at once, bright with excitement, and he stepped toward her without thinking.
They grabbed each other by the forearm at the same time—half victory clasp, half trying to steady themselves.
Mana surged once more.
Silver’s breath caught.
Scales had risen along both of their arms, delicate and gleaming, creeping up toward their wrists and along the edges of their faces. His were sleek and darkly luminous, edged in silver-blue light. Hers shimmered in soft opal hues, catching every stray colour in the ruined street.
For once, Celeste noticed first.
She stared at him in open wonder.
“Wow,” she said softly. “Your scales are beautiful.”
And just like that—
Silver forgot how to speak.
Entirely.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
He could only stare at her, at the sincerity in her face, at the starlight still caught in her lashes.
Then their grip loosened. The scales faded slowly, melting back beneath skin and fur.
Silver finally found his voice, though it came quieter than usual.
“Yours,” he said, still a little breathless, “are iridescent.”
Celeste’s ears perked. “Awesome. I can never see them. And when they do come out, I’m nowhere near a mirror.”
Silver let out a startled laugh, warm and real.
“Rest assured,” he said, smiling at her properly, “they are a delight to see.”
Celeste beamed so brightly he had to look away for half a second just to recover.
Then she bounced once on her heels.
“So,” she said. “Do you think we can do that again?”
Silver glanced at the sugary crater their shared attack had left in the street.
Then back at her.
His smile turned a little sharper. A little more dragon.
“Oh,” he said. “We are absolutely doing that again.”
They reached the end of the street together.
Breathing hard.
Laughing.
Neither bothering to count.
For once—
There were no thrones.
No judgments.
No crests hovering over their heads.
Just two warriors in the middle of a ruined road, grinning like idiots.
Silver exhaled slowly, adrenaline humming in his veins.
He hadn’t felt this free inside the Council walls.
Here, he could be himself.
Bold.
Reckless.
The dragon underneath.
Celeste nudged his shoulder lightly with her own.
“See?” she said, still smiling. “You’re getting used to the weirdness.”
Silver glanced at the frosting-coated wreckage behind them.
Then at her.
“…Perhaps,” he admitted.
And for once—
He didn’t care who had won.
