Moments earlier—
Venti stepped lightly onto the stage, his harp, Skyward Harp, quivering softly at his side. It seemed to yearn for his touch, poised to release its celestial melody the moment his fingers graced the strings.
The poet gazed at the crowd, some faces filled with anticipation, others with curiosity, and a few with skepticism, all while a faint smile played on his lips.
“Today’s performance will be a little different from my usual fare.”
His fingers brushed the strings, the initial high notes fading into an ominous bass.
“I call this piece… The Prelude to the End.”
—
Meanwhile, below the Goethe Hotel, down by the railway line—
Pela was conducting her routine inspection, leading a squad of Silvermane Guards through the district to assess any potential hazards within the underground station and verify the emergency shelters’ functionality.
As the Administrative District, if monsters ever reached this far, it would mean Belobog was already on the brink of destruction. But the emergency shelters here had been built long ago by the founding architects, a testament to their forward-thinking.
The purpose was simple: during the war against the Legion of Destruction, things had grown so dire that street fighting within the city seemed imminent.
In such a situation, leaving the elderly, women, and children to shelter at home was no different from leaving them to die. Hence, these shelters were built in the heart of the city, providing a safe haven. During the initial onset of the Great Cold, these shelters had even served to protect many from the harsh elements.
Though the warmth of Alisa’s fire had kept Belobog from being buried beneath the snow, the climate’s shift still left a lasting impact.
The shelters, which had since been named “Great Collectives,” remained a potent symbol of survival, embodying the gratitude and resilience of the people.
Generations of Supreme Guardians had ensured the maintenance of these shelters, hoping they’d never need to be used again, yet continuing to renovate them regularly, just in case.
One of these Great Collectives was located along the railway line and within Pela’s patrol area.
As she examined the shelters, making notes on areas requiring maintenance to pass along to the logistics team, a rumbling sound came from above. The entire shelter shook slightly.
Instinctively, she looked up at the ceiling, noticing a few specks of dust settling onto the brim of her hat.
“…Did something just happen above us?”
One of the nearby guards echoed her concern.
“I felt it too. Thought I was just hallucinating from working too long… It’s been ages since we’ve had any seismic activity.”
Another guard paused from checking the equipment, looking particularly weary.
“That’s a tremor you’d feel even in the upper city. Maybe it’s the furnace core in the lower city exploding?”
Another guard, with a more creative imagination, piped in.
Before Pela could halt their idle chatter, a younger Silvermane Guard rushed down the stairs, breathing so heavily that Pela worried he’d collapse before he reached them.
“Calm yourself, Corporal Paul. Tell me, has an incident occurred above? What’s behind this sudden tremor?”
Pela’s cool tone seemed to ground him a bit, though his wild-eyed look left the group uneasy.
“Y-yes! Officer Sergeyevna, there’s… a monster above us! Right over the city!”
The underground space fell silent, then erupted in laughter from the guards.
“Oh, I thought it was something serious. It’s just a flying Fragmentum creature! Why not shoot it down?”
“Exactly! You’re not a rookie anymore. Don’t tell me an ice mosquito’s got you this worked up?”
“Also, didn’t you just botch Officer Sergeyevna’s name?”
But Pela, ignoring the botched name, picked up on something critical in his words.
“You said ‘above the city,’ didn’t you? Regular Fragmentum creatures can’t reach those heights.”
She closed her notebook, a look of urgency crossing her face.
“Are you absolutely sure you saw correctly?”
“Yes! I swear!” the young guard insisted. “You’ll understand once you come out and see it for yourself!”
Seeing his tension, Pela wasted no time, climbing the stairs behind him, the sound of her boots quick and sharp on the steps.
Outside, several Silvermane Guards stood in stunned silence, their weapons hanging loosely in their hands.
And what they were staring at—
A dragon.
It was the only word Pela’s mind could conjure. Its colossal form dwarfed them, reducing them to mere ants in its presence. Surrounding it, fierce winds and dark clouds churned, spelling out a single truth: calamity.
Worse still, after a deafening roar, the dragon arched back, its massive maw wide open, wings drawing in the surrounding wind as elemental crystals gathered around it.
People on the streets began to notice the anomaly. Heads turned, eyes widened, and when they finally spotted the dragon, many stood frozen in terror.
Pela’s keen gaze followed the dragon’s trajectory as it zeroed in on a target—
“…No, could it be aiming for…?”
Even as her face paled with dread, her fears were realized. A beam of energy shot from the dragon’s mouth, crashing directly into the city walls.
With a sound like shattering glass, the protective shield that had held off the winds and snow for seven centuries splintered, a gaping hole left in its wake.
Yet the dragon roared in pain as the barrier retaliated, the transparent shield’s shattered energy surging back at it.
The backlash visibly weakened the dragon, droplets of its blood falling to the ground. It twisted in midair, circling to recover its balance.
With everyone below watching, the dragon gave one final, furious roar before tearing through the clouds and vanishing from sight.
What remained was a sky pierced with a gaping wound, and the first tendrils of a blizzard spilling into the city.
Though the worst outcome had been averted, the message was painfully clear.
After seven hundred years, the people of Belobog were finally reminded of the most primal instinct buried within them—
Fear.
—
T/N: Damn
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