Lia

Rex, no, Zhongli now, the once unshakeable, unyielding god you had fought beside countless times during the Archon War gave you one of those small, practiced smiles. It was the kind that was more for show than sincerity. 

“It is time, old friend. Liyue has thrived under humanity’s hands. My watch, as Morax and Rex Lapis, is no longer needed.”

You hummed in thought, staring out over the bustling harbor below. The view from this quiet terrace was stunning, fishermen shouting, merchants haggling, children laughing. It was everything you and Rex had fought for, in a time when the world bled far too freely.

“Well, that’s unexpected, but I understand you need a break.” you said with a shrug.

“I guess it’s time I leave too.”

A teacup shattered. 

You turned back to him with a raised brow. He dropped his favourite teacup.

“Anyways...if you’re no longer the archon of Liyue, then that means the contract we made during the Archon War has ended, right? Morax is stepping down, so I’m free to retire as well.”

“What?”

Zhongli’s voice was sharper than you’d expected. For a moment, he didn’t look like the calm and composed funeral parlor consultant. He looked like the god of stone and war again, eyes wide, golden as the sun, molten with something unreadable.

You blinked at him, mildly surprised by his reaction. 

“Rex, we made a deal. You’d watch over Liyue as its protector, and I’d stand by Rex Lapis's as an ally. It was a two-way street. If you’re done as Rex Lapis, then so am I.” You tilted your head. 

“Why do I need to stick around when the contract’s fulfilled?”

For a long moment, he said nothing. The breeze stirred the hem of his coat, and the sunlight framed his silhouette in an almost ethereal glow. But his gaze was heavy as it settled on you, searching for something. He was quiet for so long, you wondered if perhaps you’d struck a nerve.

“You okay?” You ask out of concern, you think he would’ve become stone like his statue. 

Finally, he spoke. 

“You would leave Liyue?”

“Not Liyue, per se, just…” You gestured vaguely. “I’d leave this ‘protector’ life. Find somewhere quiet. Maybe spend a few centuries napping. Isn’t that what gods do when they retire?”

You swore you heard a quick curse at “Barbados”. 

“...A contract is not so easily severed.” Zhongli’s tone was soft, but there was a weight to it, a kind of quiet finality that reminded you of the days when he would bring entire mountains down upon his enemies. 

“Our contract was not merely one of duty. It was one of trust. Companionship.” You stared at him, baffled. 

“And if ‘Rex Lapis’, aka you, or the past you, are no longer in the picture, then what am I supposed to do? Sit around twiddling my thumbs? The contract is with Rex Lapis, not Zhongli.”

Zhongli said nothing, but you could see his mind turning, golden eyes narrowed just slightly, lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked…conflicted.

You sighed and leaned back in your chair. 

“Come on, Rex. You’re the one who made that contract, why do you sound confused? We fought together for millennia. You’re tired, aren’t you? You want this retirement.”

“I thought I did,” Zhongli replied softly, and you glanced at him in surprise. His gaze had fallen to his clasped hands, the long fingers still and graceful on the table.

"But I did not consider the price.”

“The price?”

He looked up, and the warmth in his expression made you freeze. 

“You.”

The single word felt heavier than any spear or stone you’d ever faced in war.

“What?” 

“You are the only one who calls me ‘Rex’ after millenia,” he continued, voice quiet but steady. “The only one who remembers those days not as tales or legends, but as shared experience. You stood by my side when the world was young and unformed. I do not wish to lose that.”

You swallowed thickly, a strange unease curling in your chest. 

“To lose you would be akin to losing Liyue itself.”

He smiled then, the faintest quirk of his lips, but it wasn’t the polite smile of the mortal consultant. It was his smile, the one only you knew, the one he’d given you after victorious battles when the dust settled and the cries of war faded into silence. 

“I cannot retire. Not if it means letting you go.”

You stared at him for a moment, speechless. You could hardly believe it, Morax, Rex Lapis, the stubborn and unyielding god who could face down primordial beasts and ancient evils, refusing to retire because of you.

A laugh bubbled in your chest before you could stop it. 

“So that’s how it is, huh?” He arched his brow. 

“Is that so surprising?”

You grinned, leaning forward with your elbows on the table. 

“Just a little. I always thought I was the one clinging to you.” Zhongli’s gaze softened, a flicker of affection passing through his golden eyes. 

“Perhaps we are both guilty of such attachments.”

“Well,” you said with a mock sigh, “I suppose I can stick around a little longer. Someone has to make sure you don’t run Liyue into the ground.”

“I appreciate your magnanimity,” he replied smoothly, though there was the faintest hint of relief in his voice.

You looked out over the harbor once more, the bustle of mortal life continuing below as if nothing had changed. And yet, for you and Rex Lapis, something had, an unspoken understanding, as natural and enduring as the stone itself.

“So,” you said after a pause, turning back to him with a smirk. “Does this mean I get an equal say in how you’re running things now?”

Zhongli chuckled. 

“You always did.”

“Well, then,” you teased, raising your cup in a mock toast, “here’s to the eternal reign of Rex Lapis and their ever-loyal partner.”

Zhongli’s eyes lingered on yours, and his smile was genuine this time, real and warm, like the first light of dawn.

“To eternity,” he murmured, and for once, you didn’t mind.

Bonus:

“If you’re gonna stick around, get up and fight me. You’re getting a crusty old man.” 

“Let me remind you that you are the same age as me.” 

“Ha! Not when you act like this, and haven’t seen your kids in a while. C’mon, after this, I’m taking you to see the adepti, Xiao and yes, even the ones in the Millenlith.”

“...Must we?”

“Its been 400 years. They think you’re dead or in hiding. And since you’re not gonna retire, I’m making you work. I have equal say now.” 

“...I may have regretted that decision now.” 

“Your loss.” 

His laugh was loud and liberating.

"Calm down. That was like a dragon's roar."

"You're exagerrating."

The Ice Elf King had been impressive, but compared to you, he seemed like nothing more than a footnote in the hierarchy of this dungeon.

You stopped several paces away from Jinwoo, your piercing gaze locking onto his. Frost coated your silver lashes, and your voice carried like the howl of a blizzard.

"You killed my children," you said, the words cutting deeper than the ice of your domain.

Jinwoo froze, just for a moment. Children?

And then he understood. The Ice Elf King was not merely your ruler. The elites he had fought. the ones who had fallen at his hand, had been your offspring.

"You'll regret that," you hissed, lifting a gauntleted hand. A bitter wind howled, and shards of ice erupted from the walls, the floor, and the ceiling, spires that sought to impale the intruder who dared stain your legacy.

Jinwoo barely managed to sidestep the first barrage, his speed saving him from certain death. His eyes gleamed with mana as his black armor manifested around him.

"So, you're the real boss of this place," he said, grinning. 

"Then let's get started."

The battlefield exploded. 

You were relentless. For every shadow Jinwoo summoned, your frost overwhelmed it. Spears of ice shot from the ground, forcing Jinwoo to stay on the move, his agility tested like never before. 

Jinwoo darted forward, closing the distance in an instant. He swung Kasaka's Venom Fang with lethal precision, aiming for the gap between your ice-plated joints. But the moment the blade connected, your armor regenerated, spreading frost across his weapon like a virus.

"What?"

You seized the opportunity. Raising both hands, you summoned a swirling blizzard around him. The gale shrieked as jagged shards of ice formed mid-air, each one honed to kill.

The storm closed in.

For a moment, there was nothing but cold.

But then, amidst the storm, Jinwoo's voice cut through, calm and deadly.

"Shadow Exchange."

A dark ripple pulsed across the battlefield, and Jinwoo vanished, only to reappear behind you.

Ruler's Authority!

Your head snapped around just as the force of Jinwoo's telekinetic grip slammed into your back, sending you skidding across the ice. You caught yourself, frost blooming from your fingertips as you snarled in rage.

Jinwoo landed lightly, black smoke coiling around his feet like serpents.

"You're strong," he admitted, his voice laced with excitement. 

"But I've fought worse."

Your eyes glowed brighter, your voice now a roar of grief and fury. 

"Then you've never fought a mother."

The world trembled. Ice surged from the ground, forming massive constructs, golems of frozen wrath that towered above Jinwoo's shadows. The air grew thick with frost, suffocating and relentless.

Jinwoo grinned, though he felt the chill in his bones.

"Good," he said, raising his hand. "I was just starting to get bored."

"ARISE."

From the shadows of the fallen elves, soldiers of death began to rise.

The Ice Queen, you stood amidst the blizzard you had summoned, your piercing gaze burning with icy wrath. Each of your attacks carried not just strength, but emotion. 

Grief. Fury. Vengeance.

Jinwoo had fought countless enemies, monsters, bosses, and even beings beyond comprehension. But none had ever felt quite like this. You weren’t just a beast.

You were a mother.

"Why…?" Jinwoo muttered, dodging another spear of ice that shattered against the wall behind him. He leapt toward you, his shadowed blade swinging to strike, but your hand rose faster.

With a chilling whisper, frost erupted around your palm, and you caught his sword mid-swing. The force of it cracked the ground beneath your feet, yet you held firm, your armor regenerating instantly where the black blade had scraped through.

"Why?" you echoed, your voice trembling between grief and rage. "Because you stole them from me!"

A pulse of mana erupted from you, blasting Jinwoo back. He skidded across the ice, his boots digging into the frozen ground to stop himself. A headache throbbed in his temple, and he realized, his mana was draining.

Quickly.

What?

He glanced at his status bar, disbelief flickering across his face. His mana pool, vast as it was, had dropped significantly. When did this start?

Then he looked at you. The frost spreading beneath your feet was no longer just physical ice, it shimmered with a dark, consuming energy.

"You’re absorbing it," he murmured, realization dawning.

You advanced slowly, frost blooming with every step. The air grew impossibly heavy, laced with sorrow that hung like a weight on his shoulders.

"You are no different than the others who came before. Slaughtering for sport, for power. My children were not monsters. They were mine. My blood. My heart."

Jinwoo’s heart skipped a beat. He had heard curses and cries from his enemies before, pleas for mercy, hatred, or blind rage. But this was different.

Your grief wasn’t just a programmed reaction. It felt real.

For the first time, as he looked into the burning blue of your eyes, Jinwoo hesitated.

"Your children attacked me," he said carefully, his voice lower, steadier than before. "They were strong. Dangerous."

“And did they ask to be born here, to fight in this cold, forgotten prison?” you shot back, ice crackling at the edges of your words.

“Did they choose to face someone like you?”

Your anger was consuming the air, turning it into frost itself, and now it was consuming him. His mana continued to bleed away into the frost-covered ground beneath his feet. The realization struck him hard, this wasn’t a simple boss battle anymore. 

You weren’t just regenerating. You were feeding on his mana, absorbing his strength to sustain your fury.

His mind raced. She’s not just strong. She’s unstoppable at this rate.

You lunged, faster than before, your form a blur. Jinwoo barely managed to deflect the strike, but the force of it sent shockwaves rippling up his arms.

Think. Think.

His shadows flickered around him, faltering under your draining aura. His mana bar continued to drop, and for the first time in a long while, Jinwoo felt something unfamiliar.

Pressure.

This was no mindless monster. You were a mother with nothing left to lose.

Jinwoo grit his teeth, his mind racing as he struggled to regain control. The cold was unrelenting, his mana still bleeding away into the frost-laden ground. You stood tall before him, your ice-forged armor glimmering with an unnatural, otherworldly beauty, your fury as eternal as the chill in the air.

He readied himself to charge, but before he could, a shadow moved, an unmistakable figure leapt forward.

"Igris?" Jinwoo muttered in disbelief.

The red knight stood between you and his master, his massive sword lowered but steady. The flames of his crimson armor flared against the oppressive cold, his presence a stark contrast to the glacial frost you commanded.

What happened next shocked Jinwoo.

Igris, who had always been silent, spoke.

"Ice Queen," the knight said, his voice deep and reverberating like the echoes of an ancient cathedral. For a moment, the frost stilled, and the blizzard paused as you regarded him.

“I am Igris, a knight.”

Igris took a step forward, his burning crimson gaze locking with yours. 

“You know me,” he said, his voice steady, firm. “Or at least… you knew me, once. Another time. Another world.”

Your expression faltered, just for a second, as though an old memory had scraped against your consciousness. The ice around your fingers trembled.

“Lies,” you hissed, but there was a faint tremor in your voice, one you could not suppress.

“No,” Igris said, his tone calm but unyielding. “You know it as truth.” He raised his blade and pointed it toward Jinwoo, though the gesture was not hostile. 

“He is my liege, the king I currently serve. Your children’s suffering has ended, and under his dominion, they will not suffer again. They will rise, reborn under a new master. Under his shadow, they will be safe.”

Safe.

The word pierced through the storm raging within you. Your frost cracked, spreading hairline fractures through the ice coating your domain.

“Lies!” you roared, your voice breaking with fury and grief. “They are dead! Their souls are gone, and you dare speak of safety?”

Igris lowered his sword slightly, the flames along his armor flickering. “Your grief is not unfounded,” he said, quieter this time. “But you know this truth already, buried beneath your rage. You feel it even now.”

Your breathing hitched as his words struck deeper, clawing at the wall you had built around yourself. There was something haunting about the way Igris spoke, something familiar.

“Who are you?” you demanded, your voice wavering.

Igris straightened, his form tall and unwavering against the storm. “A knight,” he replied. “A loyal servant. And in another time, another life… we knew each other’s names.”

The ice around you splintered further, your vision blurring with conflicting emotions. Memories you couldn’t place flitted at the edges of your mind, too faint to grasp, too powerful to ignore.

“I will not allow you to manipulate me!” you shouted, your frost lashing out again, cracking the earth beneath you.

Jinwoo, who had been watching in silence, stepped forward then, his voice cutting through the tension. 

“I don’t know what you two were,” he said firmly, his black armor darkening against the pale frost. 

“But Igris isn’t wrong. I don’t kill for sport, and I don’t take it without purpose. Your children are mine now, yes, but under my command, they will rise stronger, safer than before.”

Your eyes snapped to Jinwoo, blazing with mistrust and fury. 

“And why should I believe you? The man who stole everything from me?”

“Because I know what it’s like to lose everything.” His voice was calm but heavy, filled with a weight that gave you pause.

“And I won’t let that happen again. Not to my shadows. Not to them.”

Igris turned his gaze back to you, his voice softening.

“Do you truly believe your vengeance will bring them back? Or will you let their souls find purpose under a king who knows the weight of life and death?”

You staggered, your ice-cold heart trembling for the first time in centuries. The frost beneath you crackled and broke as you faltered.

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head. “No… I won’t… I can’t…”

The blizzard around you howled, raging with the last vestiges of your denial.

Jinwoo raised his sword once more, but this time, there was no mockery or cruelty in his stance. Only resolve.

“Then I’ll prove it to you,” he said, his voice echoing across the frozen cavern. “Come at me with everything you have.”

And you did.

Jinwoo stood before you now, a dark silhouette against the shattered blizzard. His breathing was heavy, his armor battered, but his resolve remained unbroken. Your knees hit the fractured ice, cracks spidering out beneath your weight as the last of your strength bled away.

“It’s over,” he said softly, lowering his sword. Shadows stirred behind him, coiling and whispering like sentient beings.

“Kill me,” you hissed, your voice ragged and weak. 

“Take my soul as you took my children’s.”

But Jinwoo didn’t move to strike. Instead, he reached out, his mana surging as shadows spilled forth and wrapped around the battlefield. Before you could protest or summon your magic, a dark aura pulsed through the field, gentle but commanding.

“What…are you doing?” you choked, trembling as you felt it, the unmistakable presence of life returning.

The shadows moved, forming shapes that you knew too well. Small figures emerged from the darkness, their translucent forms taking on flesh and light. Your breath caught as you saw them, your children.

One by one, they stood before you, no longer bound by cold and suffering. Their faces were radiant, their frostbitten forms replaced by vitality and warmth, though their bodies bore a faint shadowy sheen, a mark of this man’s power. 

They were alive. Reborn.

You dropped your sword, the clang echoing like the toll of a bell.

Jinwoo stood silent as your other children, now shadows, gathered around, their roars echoing through the forest. Shadows danced in their footsteps, but there was no malice.

“They… they are happy,” you whispered, staring at Jinwoo with wide, disbelieving eyes. “How is this possible?”

Jinwoo’s gaze was steady, his voice low and certain.

“I gave them a new purpose. Under me, they are free from pain and death. Immortal in my shadow. I promised they wouldn’t suffer again…and I keep my promises.”

You turned back to your children, watching them roar with expressions you hadn’t seen in centuries. The rage that had burned so fiercely within you began to fade, replaced by an ache so deep it left you breathless.

But when you looked again, you noticed someone missing. 

“Where…where is my king?” Jinwoo’s expression hardened. 

“Your king has passed before I could turn him into my shadow.” 

The words struck like a shard of ice, and for a moment, you felt the grief resurface. But as you looked back at your children, free, you realized the truth, your king’s ambition had led you here.

To war. To loss.

The sword you had carried for so long, the weight of vengeance and pain, slipped from your hand entirely, sinking into the ice.

Your voice trembled as you looked at Jinwoo, no longer with hate, but with reluctant acceptance. 

You rose to your feet slowly, your frost-forged armor shimmering as it began to melt away, replaced by a lighter form. The magic still swirled around you, but it was no longer violent. 

You had been a queen. A mother. A warrior. But now, you could be something else.

“I am a swordsman,” you said softly, staring at Jinwoo with renewed purpose. “And a mage. My strength has been forged in both ice and war. You have taken everything from me…but you have also given back what I thought was lost forever.”

Jinwoo regarded you carefully as you knelt before him, frost blooming beneath you like flowers in the snow.

“I will serve,” you said quietly, “not because I must, but because I choose to. For them. For my children.”

The shadows around Jinwoo swirled with approval, and Igris, who had watched the scene unfold, nodded once, his crimson armor glowing faintly.

Jinwoo extended his hand toward you, and for the first time in centuries, you felt something other than cold.

Hope.

With one final look at your children, who danced in the shadows, you took Jinwoo’s hand. A new bond was forged, one of loyalty, of purpose, and of peace.

The Ice Queen was no more.

But you, a magic swordsman, would rise again under Jinwoo’s command.

Serving your liege had been an adjustment, to say the least. 

The battlefield, once your home of ice and grief, had transformed into something else entirely, shadows and death. Yet, to your surprise, this place felt more alive than your frozen kingdom ever had.

Your children thrived here. They trained, played, and walked among the shadows without fear. You watched them grow stronger, their once-frozen faces now glowing with laughter as they hung out with other species. 

It brought peace to your heart, something you hadn’t thought possible for centuries.

Of course, your presence brought a new dynamic to Jinwoo’s overwhelmingly male army.

The soldiers, stoic and loyal as they were, had never been quite sure what to do with you. 

They knew strength and they respected power. 

And you, the former Ice Elf Queen, exuded both. But you also had a softer side, one you didn’t show on the battlefield. When Jinwoo began adding more female shadows to the ranks, they naturally gravitated toward you.

It wasn’t long before you became their unspoken leader, a mother, a guide, and an aunt, as some of the more playful ones had teased. You listened to their concerns, encouraged their strength, and ensured they were seen. 

You were fierce, yes, but you were also nurturing. It was a role you had forgotten you could play.

Even Jinwoo noticed the change. 

“You’ve turned my army into a family.” You had simply stared ahead. 

“An army is stronger when it has a heart.”

Jinwoo didn’t argue.

But there was one member of the Shadow Army who had become an unexpected complication.

Igris.

You first noticed it on the battlefield. Igris was always nearby, close enough to intercept any attack that came your way, his crimson armor a stark contrast to your icy form. It wasn’t unusual for soldiers to protect one another, but Igris seemed overly diligent.

Then it started happening outside of battle.

You would train with your frost magic and swordplay, and Igris would be there, watching silently. You’d turn around, and he’d be standing at the edge of the clearing, his massive sword resting at his side. At first, you assumed it was a coincidence.

It wasn’t.

Whenever you walked the shadow realm, Igris wasn’t far behind. He hovered like a lost puppy, a very tall, very intimidating puppy, his crimson flames flickering softly, as if unsure whether to step forward or hold back.

It reached a point where even Jinwoo noticed.

“Igris,” Jinwoo said one day, arms crossed as he observed the red knight following you into yet another training session. 

“Why are you always following her?”

Igris paused, the glowing slits of his helmet turning toward Jinwoo. 

For a moment, it seemed like he might deny it, but instead, he simply said, “I am ensuring her safety.”

Jinwoo arched a brow. 

“Her safety? She nearly killed me, and she’s stronger than half the army.”

Igris didn’t flinch. 

“It is… a habit. I do not understand why, perhaps it is due to memories from another life.”

Another life? Jinwoo remembered that you and Igris did seem to share some connection. Even then, they must have been a long time ago. 

You, listening to this conversation with your sword planted firmly in the ground, narrowed your eyes. 

“Igris.”

The knight turned to you instantly, as if awaiting an order. Jinwoo took a step back to exclude himself from the conversation.

“Are you following me?” you asked flatly.

There was a pause, brief but telling. Then, with that same unwavering voice, he replied, “Yes.”

“Why?”

Igris hesitated for the first time since you had met him. His sword shifted in his grip as if the flames themselves were unsure. 

“Because… I remember.”

The words froze you in place.

You stared at him, memories flickering at the edges of your mind, ones you couldn’t quite place but felt deep in your soul. Another time. Another life.

“You remember what?” you demanded softly.

“I remember you,” he said, his voice quieter than before. “From before. From a life long gone.”

Your heart skipped a beat, though you didn’t know why. 

“And what was I to you?”

Igris straightened, the flames of his armor burning brighter. 

“I am…uncertain. However, you were…important.”

Jinwoo, watching this exchange with no small amount of amusement, muttered under his breath, “This is getting interesting.”

Igris's words lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth beneath the ice that had once been your heart.

“Fine,” you said finally, turning your back on him as you picked up your sword. “While I do not remember as well as you may, you can follow me if you wish, but don’t get in my way.”

Igris bowed his head slightly, as if you’d just granted him a gift. 

“As you command.”

And so, the red knight continued to shadow your steps, silent but steadfast, his presence both a mystery and a comfort you didn’t dare admit.

Your liege, for his part, had to fight back a smirk every time he saw the two of you together. “Interesting indeed,” he’d mutter, much to your exasperation.

Managing the shadow army turned out to be far more chaotic than you ever anticipated.

At first, you assumed your liege, having reached such incredible strength and commanding an entire shadow legion, had a handle on things. 

You were wrong.

His form of “management” seemed to consist of standing silently with his arms crossed while the shadows interpreted his silence however they pleased. It was fine on the battlefield, his sheer presence was enough to unite and terrify, but outside of combat?

It was a mess.

Resting areas were haphazardly chosen, shadows sprawled out like abandoned weapons until it was time to fight again. Training consisted of brutal sparring with no structure or goals. And let’s not even discuss living quarters, shadows didn’t need sleep or comfort, so he’d never thought of such things.

But you had.

So, in the absence of leadership outside of war, you stepped in.

You oversaw the construction of a proper base, a castle, as the shadows began calling it. Walls rose high, forged of dark stone and reinforced with your frost magic. 

Resting areas were organized, equipped with blackened banners, training grounds, and even kitchens (even if Jinwoo’s shadows didn’t eat, you insisted on adding them for dignity’s sake).

Jinwoo watched all of this unfold with mild amusement. 

“I didn’t think they needed this.”

“An army isn’t just swords and numbers,” you replied matter-of-factly, arms crossed as you oversaw the placement of a fountain. 

“They need purpose. Structure. Pride.”

To your surprise, Jinwoo didn’t argue. Instead, he simply muttered, “You’re better at this than me.”

You didn’t deny it.

But it wasn’t long before you encountered an entirely different issue, the shadow army was obsessed with him.

It started small.

The first time you noticed it, a group of shadows had gathered in a circle, whispering with surprising energy. Curiosity piqued, you approached, only to stop dead in your tracks when you saw it:

A statue of your liege.

It was crude, clearly carved with brute force rather than finesse, but it was unmistakably him.

“What…is this?” you asked slowly, arching an eyebrow.

The shadows flinched, clearly caught red-handed. 

“A tribute to our liege.” You sighed. 

“Fine. One statue is acceptable.”

But it didn’t stop there.

Days later, as you surveyed the newly completed courtyard, you found another one. This one was bigger. Shinier. Better.

“Another tribute,” one shadow explained proudly.

The following week, statues started cropping up everywhere, lining the training grounds, looming over the entrances, even decorating the castle halls.

Some depicted your liege in dramatic combat poses; others made him look regal, arms crossed and cape billowing as if he stood atop the world. You found one shadow carefully polishing a statue of your liege's face, its glowing eyes full of reverence.

It was absurd.

You cornered your liege about it one evening, after stumbling upon yet another statue, this one holding a disproportionately large sword.

“Do you know what the shadows are doing?” you demanded, arms crossed.

Jinwoo blinked at you. 

“Training?”

“No.” You jabbed a finger toward the nearest statue. 

“They’re turning this entire castle into a shrine dedicated to you.” Jinwoo glanced at the statue and tilted his head. 

“Huh. That’s new.”

“This isn’t new, my liege! It’s everywhere.” He stared for a long moment, then shrugged. 

“Let them do what they want. It’s harmless.” You gave him an incredulous look. 

“You’ll regret this when you can’t see the sky because of all the statues.” Jinwoo’s lips twitched into something resembling a smirk. 

“I think you’re exaggerating.”

You weren’t.

The next day, you found a group of shadows trying to carve Jinwoo’s face into a mountain.

You glared up at the giant, incomplete mural, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“Of course,” you muttered under your breath, “they take after him.”

“Isn’t it grand, my lady?” one of the shadows asked eagerly.

You sighed, looking at their hopeful, flickering forms. In truth, you couldn’t find it in yourself to scold them. They were loyal. Fiercely so. And if building statues of their liege brought them joy, then who were you to stop them?

Still, there had to be limits.

“Fine,” you said, hands on your hips. “You can have three statues in the courtyard. No more. And stay away from the mountain.”

The shadows grumbled but reluctantly agreed. You knew they’d push the boundary again eventually, but for now, you’d won this battle.

Later that night, you found Igris standing silently near one of the more polished Jinwoo statues.

“Don’t tell me you approve of this,” Igris turned his helmet toward you. 

“I find it… excessive.” You nod. 

“Good. At least someone has sense around here.”

“…But it is well-crafted.”

Silence, then a sigh. You did admit at least the craftsmanship improved over time. You dragged a hand down your face as Igris tilted his head ever so slightly, his version of amusement.

Jinwoo, watching the entire exchange from the castle steps, simply chuckled. 

“You really have your hands full, don’t you?”

“My liege, you could help.”

“I could,” he replied, turning back toward his ever-growing army. “But you’re doing such a good job.”

You swore you heard Igris laugh softly under his breath as you stalked off, vowing to tear down at least one statue before the day ended.

Boys would be boys, indeed.

It started with small, almost negligible details, at least to everyone except Jinwoo.

At first, he didn’t think much of it. 

Igris was Igris: noble, stoic, and unwaveringly loyal. But recently, something had changed, and Jinwoo couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

It began when you sparred with Igris one afternoon. Your icy blade clashed with his crimson greatsword, magic flaring, and shadows gathering to watch the spectacle. The spar had been long and hard-fought, ending in a draw that left you both panting but satisfied.

“That was impressive,” Jinwoo said afterward as he approached.

Igris remained quiet, his gaze lingering just a moment too long on you as you restored your blade to your sheath with a graceful flourish.

“…Igris?” Jinwoo prompted.

The knight stiffened and turned sharply.

“Yes, my liege?”

Jinwoo frowned. Weird.

Then there were the moments when Jinwoo would notice Igris standing near you, closer than necessary, his crimson armor seemingly shining brighter whenever you were around. 

And there was that one time he caught Igris subtly handing you an ice-forged rose that one of your children had made, claiming it was “on behalf of the Shadow Army.”

You accepted it with mild amusement. 

“Tell them their craftsmanship is improving.”

Igris’ helm dipped slightly, as though he was pleased with himself.

Jinwoo, watching this from the corner of the room, blinked slowly. 

Wait a second…

The final confirmation came when Beru, as excitable and nosy as ever, suddenly burst into Jinwoo’s quarters with the energy of a gossiping whirlwind.

“My liege!” Beru hissed dramatically, clawed hands wringing together. 

“You won’t believe what I’ve discovered!” Jinwoo raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Is this another complaint about shadow formations?”

“No, no!” Beru waved him off frantically. 

“It’s about Sir Igris!”

That got Jinwoo’s attention. 

“What about him?” Beru leaned in, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. 

“He has a crush.”

Jinwoo blinked, then stared blankly. 

“A what?”

“A crush! On the Ice Queen!” Beru practically cackled. “I’ve seen it with my own eyes! He follows her like a lost puppy! He watches her sparring matches with an intensity I’ve never seen before! And when she talks, my liege, he listens.”

Jinwoo leaned back in his chair, processing this information. At first, the thought seemed ridiculous, this was Igris, his most loyal knight, the epitome of calm and collected authority. But the more Jinwoo thought about it…the more the pieces started to fit.

“Oh no,” Jinwoo muttered to himself, realizing the truth.

“Igris does have a crush.”

And just as Jinwoo said it, the doors opened, and in walked Igris, calm, composed, and completely oblivious to the whispers and stares from Beru and Jinwoo.

“My liege,” Igris said with his usual gravitas. “You called for me?”

Jinwoo stared at his knight for a long moment, a smirk creeping onto his face. This is going to be interesting.

“Igris,” Jinwoo began innocently, “how do you feel about the Ice Queen?”

For the first time Jinwoo could remember, Igris paused. It wasn’t a noticeable pause, just a momentary stiffness in his stance, a subtle hesitation. But Jinwoo caught it, and so did Beru, who was practically vibrating with glee beside him.

“She is an exceptional warrior,” Igris replied after a beat, his tone measured but somehow…off.

“Her leadership skills have greatly benefited the Shadow Army.”

“And?” Jinwoo pressed, feigning innocence. Igris’ helm tilted slightly. 

“…And she is a valuable ally.”

“And?”

“My liege,” Igris said firmly, clearly aware he was being cornered, “is there a point to this line of questioning?”

Before Jinwoo could answer, Beru burst out, “Just admit it, Sir Igris! You like her! You admire her ice powers! You think she’s graceful and strong!”

Igris’ head turned slowly toward Beru, the kind of slow turn that suggested death was imminent. 

“I suggest you choose your next words carefully.” But Beru wasn’t done.

“Don’t worry, Sir Igris! Everyone thinks you two would make a perfect match!”

Jinwoo covered his face with a hand, trying to stifle his laughter as Igris stood there, every ounce of his dignity being stripped away. 

The knight’s silence spoke volumes.

“Run.”

Beru flew out the door. 

Later that day, you found Jinwoo observing the training grounds with an odd little smirk. You didn’t question it until you spotted Igris in the corner, supervising recruits with an intensity that could only be described as aggressively focused.

You frowned, sensing something was off. 

“My liege, what’s wrong with Igris today?” Jinwoo shrugged, his smirk widening. 

“Oh, nothing. He’s just… dealing with some feelings.”

“Feelings?”

“You’ll figure it out.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicion brewing, but you didn’t press further. 

And in the shadows, Beru lurked with giddy delight, ready to share his next piece of gossip with anyone willing to listen.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the Shadow Army to catch wind of Igris’ crush. Beru, being the ultimate gossip enthusiast, made sure of that.

It started with whispers, hushed conversations in the halls of the shadow castle, smirks exchanged between troops, and subtle glances whenever Igris and you crossed paths.

Tank was the first to approach Igris alone.

The massive shadow bear lumbered up to the knight during a sparring session, his size making him impossible to ignore. Igris turned, his crimson greatsword in hand, only to find Tank staring down at him with an unreadable expression.

“…What is it, Tank?” Igris asked coolly, though he already sensed trouble.

Tank tilted his enormous head. 

“Sir Igris.”

“Yes?”

“Have you…mated with the Ice Queen yet?” Igris froze, his blade still mid-swing. 

“WHAT.”

“Tank, you absolute imbecile!” came Beru’s screech from a nearby shadow. “You’re not supposed to ask him that directly!”

Tank shrugged with a rumbling growl. 

“But Beru said-”

“I said implied!”

Igris turned his helm toward the two of them, a palpable aura of murderous intent swirling around him. 

“What. Are. You. Talking. About?”

Beru cackled and immediately scampered away, leaving Tank to deal with the consequences.

“Tank, run!” Beru’s voice echoed from the distance.

Iron, who lacked any and all social tact, decided to take a much more direct approach.

One afternoon, you were overseeing recruits sparring when Iron stomped up to you, his hulking form casting a shadow over everyone present.

“Ice Queen!” Iron’s booming voice startled even you, though you quickly straightened.

“Yes, Iron?” you replied with a raised brow.

“Igris likes you!”

The training grounds fell deathly silent. The recruits froze mid-swing, staring wide-eyed as the words echoed through the air. You blinked once, your stoic mask cracking slightly.

“…Excuse me?”

“Igris! He likes you! He looks at you like Tank looks at honey!” Iron repeated proudly, as if he’d uncovered the world’s greatest secret.

From across the field, Igris appeared out of nowhere, slamming his sword into the ground with such force the ground shook. 

“IRON!” Iron flinched. 

“Oh. Was that supposed to be a secret?”

You slowly turned to Igris, curiosity lighting up your expression as he stomped toward Iron with an air of absolute murder.

“Iron, you fool,” Igris growled through gritted teeth.

“Oh, don’t be mad!” Iron said, cheerfully unbothered. “The Ice Queen is strong! You’d make good mates!”

“Silence!”

You crossed your arms, watching with mild amusement as Igris all but dragged Iron away, his dignity shredded once again.

That night, as you stood at the edge of the shadow castle overlooking the vast plains, Igris approached you silently.

“You asked for me?” you asked without turning, sensing his presence.

Igris hesitated, just for a second, before he spoke. 

“I…wished to apologize.”

“For what?”

“For the… behavior of the others,” he replied stiffly. 

“Their gossip is uncalled for.”

You smirked faintly, turning fully to face him. 

“Let them talk. I don’t concern myself with rumors.”

Igris stood taller at your words, though something about his posture softened. You stepped closer, your gaze steady. 

“But perhaps you should tell me, do they speak the truth?”

For the first time, Igris faltered. His helm tilted downward, his silence louder than words.

You studied him for a moment longer before turning back to the plains, an unreadable smile on your lips. 

“Goodnight, Igris.”

As you walked away, Igris remained rooted to the spot, the chill of the night air doing little to mask the warmth lingering in his chest.

From the shadows, Jinwoo and Beru watched the exchange, the latter barely containing his squeals of delight.

“Did you see that, my liege?!” Beru whispered excitedly.

“Oh, I saw it. Poor Igris doesn’t stand a chance.”

Who knew watching his subordinate's love story could be so fun?

Igris had faced dragons, commanders, kings, and hordes of enemies without faltering. His blade had clashed against unbeatable odds, his will unwavering against death itself. 

But now, the once-mighty knight stood in a shadowy corridor, frozen in place, gripped by the strangest and most insurmountable enemy of all, his feelings.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I know! I know! Sir Igris must confess his undying love!”

The voice of Beru shattered whatever composure Igris had left. The insectoid shadow stepped out of a dark corner, his glowing eyes alight with glee.

“…Beru.” Igris groaned, instinctively gripping the hilt of his sword. “This is none of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is!” Beru exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. “As the Shadow Army’s most socially attuned being-”

“Hardly.”

“-I am here to assist you! I have gathered extensive knowledge from hours of observing human courtship rituals.”

“…Human courtship rituals?” Igris echoed skeptically.

“Yes! Lady Jinah has been watching these K-Dramas! And I, being a shadow of excellent taste, have memorized their methods for confession!”

Igris turned slowly toward him, dread pooling in his core. 

“I don’t want to know.”

“Step one!” Beru ignored him entirely. 

“The Grand Gesture.”

And so, an hour later, you stood in the training grounds watching with a mix of amusement and confusion as Igris, in full armor, dramatically knelt before you.

“What…are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as the crimson knight extended a single glowing flower made of mana.

Igris said nothing for several moments, clearly at war with himself. Finally, his deep voice rumbled, “This is… for you.”

Before you could respond, Beru leaped out from behind a pillar. 

“SPEAK YOUR HEART!”

“Beru—!” Igris snapped, his mana flaring in irritation.

“SPEAK IT!”

Igris, utterly flustered now, turned back to you stiffly. “I… appreciate your strength and…” He paused, clearly struggling. “…you’re very… capable.”

You stared at him, blinking. 

“Capable?”

“Like a soaring falcon!” Beru added unhelpfully.

“…Right.”

Before you could respond, Igris stood abruptly, tossing the flower onto the ground like it offended him.

“Forget this ever happened.”

And with that, he stormed away, leaving Beru screeching, “Wait, you didn’t finish the confession scene!”

You watched the chaos unfold, shaking your head with a quiet laugh.

At least it was cute.

Two failed grand gestures later (including an unfortunate rain-soaked poetry recital Beru insisted on), Igris had all but given up. He found himself back in the training grounds, gripping his sword far tighter than necessary.

You approached him, clearly done with whatever weird behavior he had been exhibiting for days now. 

“Sir Igris.”

He stilled.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are we going to keep pretending you haven’t been acting strange?”

“I am not-”

“Pick up your sword,” you interrupted.

“What?” Igris blinked behind his helm.

“You’re clearly distracted. Spar me. If you win, I’ll stop asking.”

The knight hesitated, then nodded. Sparring was straightforward, something he understood.

Or so he thought.

Ten minutes later, Igris found himself flat on his back, his blade knocked clean from his grip as you stood over him, your own weapon pointed at his chest.

“You’re distracted,” you said simply, though there was a glint of satisfaction in your eyes. “And you’re terrible at hiding it.”

Igris groaned inwardly, his pride in tatters.

“This… is difficult for me.”

“What is?”

He hesitated, then finally, finally, spoke.

“You.”

“…Me?”

“I…” He sighed, clearly abandoning every complicated plan Beru had forced on him. “I admire you. Your strength, your leadership…You have earned my trust.”

“That’s what’s been bothering you?” you asked, a brow raised.

Igris slowly sat up, his crimson helm turned toward you. 

“…It is not just trust. I…adore you”

A long pause stretched between you before you smirked faintly.

“You could’ve just been direct about it, you know.”

Igris stared at your offered hand for a moment, then took it, allowing you to pull him up. 

“Being direct was… not part of Beru’s advice.” You snorted. 

“Beru? You took advice from Beru?”

“Unfortunately.”

“…No wonder you were acting weird.” You turned, sheathing your weapon. “Next time, just say what’s on your mind.”

As you walked away, Igris stood rooted in place, feeling something unfamiliar settle in his chest, relief.

From the shadows, Beru and Jinwoo watched once again.

“Well, that could’ve gone smoother,” Beru chirped, pouting.

Jinwoo laughed under his breath. “You’re banned from giving advice.”

“No! Give me another chance, my liege!”

“Not happening.”

“Humans are confusing creatures.”

“No, you’re just terrible at romance. And shadows are not humans.”

As for Igris, he silently vowed to never listen to Beru again, unless he wanted another existential crisis.

After weeks of awkward interactions, failed grand gestures, and silent brooding, Igris had finally decided to end his suffering.

And so there he stood, outside the castle training grounds, holding a bouquet of rare, frost-kissed flowers he had painstakingly gathered from dungeons. His usually stoic demeanor was betrayed by the faint tension in his posture, his grip on the bouquet just a little too tight.

When you walked out and caught sight of him, you paused, raising an eyebrow. 

“Sir Igris?”

He stepped forward, the crimson armor reflecting the soft glow of the fading sun. Slowly, he extended the bouquet toward you, the flowers shimmering in an ethereal light. 

“These are… for you.” You blinked at the sight. 

“Flowers? You brought me flowers?”

“I…” Igris faltered for the briefest of moments, his voice lower now. “I wished to offer you something…as a sign of what I feel.”

“What you feel?” you echoed, amusement tugging at your lips.

“Yes.” He stood straighter, his deep voice unwavering despite the hint of nervousness beneath it. 

“I have admired you since the day we crossed swords. Your strength, your resolve… you. I care for you. I love you.”

The confession hung in the air, thick with weight. Igris, who had faced countless foes without flinching, now stood in front of you, awaiting your response like a man facing judgment.

You stared at him for a beat, then smiled softly, shaking your head. 

“About time.” Igris blinked. 

“…What?”

“I knew, Igris,” you said, taking the bouquet from his armored hands with a smile. “You’re not exactly subtle. The weird grand gestures? The brooding? Beru’s antics? I figured it out weeks ago.”

He stiffened. 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I wanted you to say it yourself,” you replied, smirking. “A knight should be direct, don’t you think?”

Igris remained silent for a moment, processing your words, before the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

“You… are maddening.”

“And you’re dramatic, but I love you too,” you shot back playfully, while Igris froze on the spot, speechless. 

“Thanks for the flowers, they’re beautiful.”

Not as beautiful as you.

A faint glow emanated from Igris’s crimson armor, almost as if he were embarrassed. 

“I…am glad you like them.”

From a nearby shadow, Beru’s voice suddenly chirped, “FINALLY!”

Both of you turned sharply to see Beru, Jinwoo, and the rest of the shadow army peeking out from behind pillars and walls, clearly eavesdropping.

Jinwoo crossed his arms, grinning. 

“Took you long enough, Igris.” Beru buzzed with excitement. 

“Now kiss her! That’s what happens in the dramas!”

“Beru,” Igris growled warningly, mana flaring around him.

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you turned to Igris. “I guess we’ll never live this down, will we?”

“…Perhaps not,” he muttered, though the hint of fondness in his voice was unmistakable.

“Well,” you said, tucking one of the frost-kissed flowers into your hair. “Let’s give them something to talk about, shall we?”

And for the first time, the unshakable knight seemed utterly stunned as you leaned up to press a kiss against the side of his crimson helm.

The resulting cheers from the shadows echoed across the entire territory.

Jinwoo let out a relieved sigh.

Who would've thought his shadows would get a relationship quicker than him?

You quickly pull him out of bed and help him wash his face and teeth. Help him clean up and look like the respectable Chief Justice everyone knows. 

He blinked at you, bleary-eyed, letting you button his shirt. 

“Now arms up.”

He obeyed, now a bit more awake, but his head thunk on your shoulder. 

“You’re too good to me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you teased, guiding him to the kitchen.

He sat, still drowsy, while you went to make a quick breakfast. His eyes lit up the moment he saw the carefully packed lunch.

“You made soup again…” he murmured, picking up his spoon. 

“You know me too well.”

You peck his cheek.

“Someone has to make sure you eat something that isn’t stressful.”

Neuvillette caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I don't know I would do without you.” You raised a brow. 

“Dramatic.”

“Truthful,” he said, giving you that soft look that made your chest ache. 

“I’d be lost without you.”

You poured him water, leaning in close. 

“Good thing I’m not going anywhere then.”

He hummed, content, and smiled softly.

“Thank you.”

The courtroom echoed with voices, petitions, disputes, and lies dressed as truths.

Neuvillette listened, silent and unreadable as always, yet the weight of it pressed heavily on him today.

Humans, no feelings are difficult to understand for Neuvillette. 

During a short break, he retreated to his office. He didn’t expect peace, but when he opened the simple wooden box you'd prepared for him that morning, the tightness in his chest eased.

Carefully arranged: poached fish, soup, soft rice, steamed greens. And nestled beside it, a folded note.

“Don't forget to eat. And breathe. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

You’d drawn a little doodle of him, half-asleep with his hair floofed.

He stared at it for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile touched his lips.

He took a bite of the fish. Light, clean. Just the way he liked it. His heart unclenched, if only a little.

You always knew what he needed before he did.

He tucked the note back into his coat pocket, among the many others.

Then he returned to the courtroom, still weary, but a little steadier.

You found him hunched over his desk, buried in paperwork. Rain tapped on the windows like it was echoing his mood.

Silently, you walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

"...You always find me,” he murmured after a pause, voice tight. “Even when I don’t want to be found.”

“You don’t really mean that,” you whispered, resting your cheek against him.

When it got late, you knew Neuvillette was stuck at work, being the workaholic he is. 

He didn’t argue. Just exhaled shakily, fingers clutching a paper like it had wronged him personally.

“Why are they like this?” he asked. “Humans. So much… cruelty and lies.”

You held him tighter. You knew sometimes these cases could be too much to listen to, after all, people only go to court for frustration, guilt and confessions. 

“Because we’re messy. But we’re capable of kindness too. You don’t have to understand all of it. You just have to be you.”

“But I’m not human,” he said, looking up at you. “How can I judge them if I don’t understand them?”

For a moment, you hesitated because you remembered the time he told you about his true identity, but even then, you never cared for it because you truly loved this man dragon from the moon and back. 

“You don’t need to be them to care,” you said gently, brushing his hair back.

“You’re already doing more than most. That’s enough.”

A deep breath before he turns in his chair and buried his face into your chest. 

You didn’t speak. Just stroked his hair, kissed his temple, and held him. 

“…Thank you,” he whispered. Then he tipped you down and you let him. He kissed you, slow, tender, like you were sunlight and he hadn’t seen the sky in days.

When he finally pulled back, he glanced toward the window.

“…The rain stopped,” he said, almost in disbelief. You smiled, running a finger along his jaw. 

“Told you. You just needed to let someone hold you for a while.”

He smiled, really smiled, and leaned in for one more kiss.

“My heart listens to you more than it does me.”

Another day, another migraine as you would sometimes say. 

"Neuvi, you need a vacation."

He had meant to protest, he always did, but the look in your eyes had silenced him more effectively than any decree. It wasn’t disappointment or frustration. 

It was care. Concern. Love.

He sat at the edge of the bed, fingers absently tracing the letter you had slipped into his coat earlier. He unfolded it now, reading your familiar handwriting:

“You are allowed to rest, Love. You are allowed to be more than the Chief Justice. Let me take care of you.”

He closed his eyes.

For centuries, he had carried so much. 

Dignity. Duty. Distance. 

And yet you, gentle, persistent, loving you, had chipped away at his solitude like water to stone, reshaping him with kindness.

Perhaps...just this once...

He let out a slow breath. And then, deliberately, he stood, walking to the open balcony. 

The moon was dim tonight, and the streets were empty except the automatons guarding the city. With one smooth motion, he shifted, scales rippling over his skin, horns glinting, wings unfurling into the night air.

A dragon once more. It felt liberating despite only showing his half dragon form. 

And as he looked down at the palace below, a deep, low growl rose in his throat. He wanted to take you far away from this place. 

From politics. From judgment. From all the noise.

He wanted to keep you close. Closer than ever.

He took to the skies and took a deep breath.

Perhaps...a vacation has been long overdue. 

After months of court and chaos, Neuvillette finally, finally, listened to you.

You had never been so excited as you pulled out your notes and forgotten plans of just hanging out without work looming over your heads. Still, you wanted it to be relaxing for your dragon husband because you wanted this to be all about him! 

He deserves rest and you would make sure he gets spoiled! The first thing you did was just take him away from the palace and into the Fontaine wilderness, where it would just be you, him, and the sea.

What you didn’t expect was to see Neuvillette showing off in his half dragon form.

You watched as he shifted, wings unfurled, silver-blue scales gleaming in the sun, and you swore you saw him breathe for the first time in weeks. 

No courtroom. No robes. 

Just Neuvillette, in all his dragon majesty, curling his massive body around you in a protective sprawl. 

“You’re hovering,” you teased when he kept nuzzling you every time you moved an inch too far.

A low, rumbling growl vibrated through his chest. 

“You wandered out of sight for two minutes.”

“You sound like you were ready to drown someone.”

“I was.”

Each day, he softened. The weight on his shoulders lightened. 

You massaged the tension from his back, whispered reassurances into his neck, and watched him melt under your touch.

But as the days passed, something changed. His touches grew bolder. His gaze lingered longer.

At night, in human form again, he’d pull you close, hands trembling just slightly. 

“Tell me I’m allowed this,” he murmured once, voice rough and low as his fingers trailed your spine. 

“Tell me I can want you.”

“You’re allowed everything, Neuvi,” you whispered against his lips. “Especially me.”

He kissed you slowly, starting off with gentle kisses before turning desperate, with whispered promises.

By dawn, you lay tangled together beneath his draped wing. His breath is warm at your nape. His arm locked around your waist.

“You’re not letting go, are you?” you murmured, half-asleep.

A hum. 

“Never.”

You could say the same. 

The sky was streaked with pink when you tugged Neuvillette’s hand. 

“Beach walk,” you said. “Doctor’s orders.”

He let you lead him, fingers laced with yours, quiet as ever, but relaxed. Peaceful.

The sea air suited him. Personally, you liked that he was out of his “judge” outfit, and in a more shirt and pants. 

Then you spotted them.

“Otters!” you gasped, pointing excitedly at the group rolling around in the surf. One, in particular, caught your eye, blue-gray fur, an almost regal posture, and sharp eyes surveying the world.

You burst into laughter, as you quickly led Neuvillette to them. 

“Wait, look! That one looks just like you.” Neuvillette blinked. 

“You think I look like an otter?” You nodded as you looked back and forth. 

“Same dignified vibe. Same colours. Same mysterious energy. Very composed. Very you.”

He gave you the most bewildered expression. 

“I...see.”

You giggled and crouched near the water’s edge, where the otters now swarmed, squeaking little “kyu” noises as they playfully nuzzled you.

Neuvillette stayed behind, watching. Silent. Still.

One of the otters nestled into your lap, eyes closed in bliss. You cooed at it.

And he frowned.

“…They’re quite clingy,” he muttered, barely audible.

You looked up. 

“Are you… pouting?”

“I am not,” he said, a touch too quickly. 

“Merely observing. They seem rather… attached.”

You tilted your head, biting back a smile. 

“You are jealous.”

“I am not jealous of an otter,” he said stiffly, before stepping forward and sliding his hand into yours, gently pulling you up and into his side. 

You laughed, letting him pull you close. 

“Jealous much?”

“I prefer ‘protective.’” 

You smiled up at him. 

“Don’t worry. No amount of adorable otters could ever take your place.”

He exhaled slowly, brushing a hand through your hair, gaze softening. 

“Good.”

Still, you made him take photos with otters anyways. 

And now Neuvillette sees it all the time on your nightstand. 

While he judges it all the time, you know that Neuvillette could never be mad at otters forever.

One night, you lay on deck beside Neuvillette on a ship. The lakeside is quiet, with the moonlight catching in his eyes, stormy and somehow intense. 

What was he thinking about even on vacation?

His fingers traced your skin slowly, pausing at your neck.

“You always touch there,” you whispered.

He leaned in, brushing a kiss to the spot.

“It’s my favorite place,” he murmured. Then softer, with a hint of hesitation. 

“May I leave a mark?” Your breath hitched as he leaned over you, staring at you intently, making you feel like you were in the eyes of a dragon.

“A mark?” You asked, breathless. 

“A symbol. A promise.” His eyes didn’t waver. 

For a moment, you simply stared into his eyes, a little pensive. Neuvillette caught your hesitation but did not falter. 

“In dragonkind,” Neuvillette explained softly, “a mark is a symbol, but also a bond. One created from instinct, will, and power. When a dragon marks someone, it means they’ve chosen them as mates.”

“Mates?” You blinked, your heartbeat fluttering.

He nodded. “More than that. It’s a soul-deep tether. A dragon only marks once in their lifetime. Once we do… that bond cannot be undone. No matter time, distance, or circumstance, our hearts remain bound.”

Your lips parted slightly as you looked into his eyes, searching. 

“So…you can’t ever choose someone else?”

“No,” he murmured, “Even if you walked away, even if I never saw you again…I would remain yours. That is how dragons love. We don’t fall often. But when we do, it’s forever.”

You were silent for a moment, taking in the weight of his words. Then, with a soft smile, you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his.

“Forever sounds nice.” You leaned back, exposing your neck to him. 

“I trust you.”

You heard him suck in a breath before he swallowed.

“I love you.” You widen your eyes in surprise, he had never said it so explicitly before, which made it all the more special.  

He kissed your neck, warmer this time, and whispered something ancient, words that shimmered like falling rain. Then, he bit down, making you shiver and gasp, but he held you close, making sure you felt comfortable yet safe in his arms. 

A pulse of hydro energy flowed through you, cool and comforting. You felt it settle, and when he pulled back, a glowing symbol remained, blue and silver, delicate yet powerful.

“It’s done.” He looked so relieved, content and satisfied before kissing the mark again. 

You touched it, awed. 

“It’s beautiful…”

“So are you,” he said, reverent. 

“It binds us. Now and always.” You met his gaze. 

“I was already yours.”

“As I am to you,” he said, pulling you close. “But now the world will know too.”

He kissed you then, deep and slow, as if sealing the bond with his very breath.

1. Let them be children

You remember the weight of their arms, the way they’d race toward you like you were the sun and they’d been stuck in shadow all day.

“Come here, you two,” you’d sigh with a tired smile, dropping your bags at the door as little arms wrapped tight around your waist.

Alhaitham never said much, he never needed to. He'd just lean in, face buried against your shoulder, silent as stone but warm like coals. 

Althar, though? He was a chatterbox from the start.

“There was this bird that got stuck in the window at school,” he'd babble into your neck. “And I helped it, and then Haitham told me not to touch it but I did anyway—”

And you? You just held them, burying your face into their hair, exhaustion melting in the comfort of their small, trusting presence.

2. Let them sleep peacefully

It was late. You’d just gotten off your second shift, and the apartment was finally quiet.

You peeked into their room.

“Bedtime,” you murmured.

Alhaitham didn’t even glance up from his book, but you saw the way his thumb paused mid-page. He’d heard you.

Althar rolled onto his back, your old phone falling onto his chest. 

“You know we’re not kids anymore, right?”

You huffed, walking over to smooth down his ridiculous mop of red-streaked hair. 

”You’re seven.”

You tucked them in, fluffing their blankets, brushing hair from their faces.

“Goodnight, you two.”

Alhaitham gave a soft, “Mn,” barely audible.

Althar yawned. 

“Good night sister!” 

You kissed their foreheads. 

Still your boys. 

Always.

What you didn’t know, was when you turned off the lights, the boys would sneakily open the door, and through the cracks, they would see you doing chores, and doing bills.

The twins made an oath then, to make sure that when they grow up, no one can hurt you again.

Even if your parents came back begging.

3. Let them see hope 

You were sitting at the chipped kitchen table, the one you found off a curb three years ago, staring at bills that seemed to multiply like fungus. Your tea has gone cold.

“Two down. One to go,” you muttered, not even noticing the footsteps.

Althar dropped his backpack and came to lean over your chair, resting his chin lightly on your head.

“Sister. You’ve been at this since morning, huh?”

You hummed, leaning back slightly into the comfort.

“Someone’s gotta pay for your endless snack runs.”

He gave your shoulders a soft squeeze, but didn’t joke back.

Alhaitham stood by the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. 

“You shouldn’t be working three jobs.”

“Don't worry about it. As long as it pays bills, a roof over our head and food in the fridge,” you replied, with forced levity.

Althar frowned.

“Not forever. Once we’re older… we’ll take over. You’ve done more than enough.”

You laugh and ruffled their hairs, getting a pouty face from Althar.

“Until then, make sure you do well in school. But let me know if you have any troubles.” 

The twins looked at each other, and then back to you and nodded.

You can only hope that they at least have a stable future. 

They were in middle school now and from what you’ve heard from the teachers? Nothing but praises.

Alhaitham being the top of his class and Althar can compete competitively in school sports. 

You have never been more proud. 

More of a reason for you to keep working and making sure that you three stay afloat. 

4. Let them grow up without any worries 

As they grew into high schoolers, the hugs faded.

Alhaitham stopped reaching for you. Althar replaced embraces with casual jostling and shoulder nudges.

You understood, even if it stung a little.

Then one night, after a brutal sixteen-hour day, you came home and leaned against the counter.

You didn’t even hear him until his arms wrapped around you from behind.

“Take a break already,” Althar whispered, his breath tickling your ear. 

Before you could respond, you felt another weight, a second presence. Alhaitham, standing in front of you, carefully pulling you into his arms.

You felt like a cocoon in their hug.

Even so, you didn’t say anything. Just be. 

“We’ll take care of dinner.” Alhaitham said and then Althar rolled his eyes.

“Fine, I’ll do the dishes.” You chuckle as Althar throws jabs at his twin, but honestly? You’re happy that most of the chores are being done by the twins now.

Alhaitham can cook, but Althar? Althar can’t be trusted near any fire. 

You watched them bicker with a tired smile. You just noticed but...they're getting really tall, and you know they're gonna be way taller than you one day.

You can't wait for that day to come. Maybe then, you can finally relax.

5. Let you breathe

It doesn’t happen often.

But sometimes, on the worst days, when your hands trembled from fatigue and your eyes burned from sleeplessness, you’d feel arms around you.

No words.

Just Alhaitham, anchoring you in his silence.

Then Althar, sliding in on the other side with a warm, grounding presence.

“It’s okay,” Althar would whisper. “We’ve got you now.”

And maybe they did.

They both got part-jobs, and can pitch in money to pay off bills. But you always advise them to save up for university instead, since you can still pay the bills. 

They begrudgingly agree, though, they did buy things that you may have eyed for a bit too long, but couldn’t bring up the courage to buy. 

Those shoes you put back after trying them out, the jacket you always wanted, and the chocolates you always liked.

When you tell them it was unnecessary? 

“You buy things for us. So it’s our turn now.” 

When you saw the twins nod proudly, you knew you couldn’t tell them otherwise. 

“Thank you.” 

You silently wiped a tear away.

6. Let them protect you

It was a Tuesday.

A coworker had been getting bold, comments, lingering touches, that oily grin.

You’d planned to brush it off again. You always did.

Until a shadow fell over the conversation. You looked up and froze.

Alhaitham. Calm. Cold. Dangerous.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, voice low and even. But his eyes? Razor-sharp.

The man faltered, clearly unnerved. Before he could excuse himself, Althar appeared on the other side, smile gone.

“She’s not your business,” Althar said, hand resting lightly on the man’s shoulder. 

The guy left. Fast.

You stood there, stunned.

When did they grow up so fast?

They weren’t boys anymore.

They were men, and they were your brothers. 

You laugh, much to their annoyance. 

“Aw, are you two of my bodyguards now?” 

“Sis! Why didn’t you tell us you had ugly guys after you!” 

You flicked Althar’s forehead while Alhaitham kept looking around as if looking out for the team. 

“Thank you.” 

They hmphed and then stayed by your side the entire time.

Your colleague would later say, your twin brothers were like your guard dogs, and you would laugh, because you knew it was true. 

7. Please stay dear sister!

It started with an innocent suggestion.

"You’ve raised them for so long," your best friend said over coffee during a break. 

"But maybe it’s time you started thinking about yourself. They’re grown men now."

That thought lingered.

Alhaitham and Althar had just graduated university, landed good jobs, and were finally stable. For the first time in over a decade, the future looked different. 

You’d spent your youth keeping your little brothers alive and happy, giving up your education, working yourself into exhaustion, making sure they never felt abandoned again.

Maybe it was time for something of your own.

That night over dinner, you tried to sound casual.

"Now that you both are doing well," you said, picking at your food,

"I’ve been thinking we could maybe live separately. I mean, you’re adults. And I think I want to try living on my own for once."

Silence.

Alhaitham’s fork paused mid-air. Althar, more reactive, snapped his gaze to yours.

"Why?" Althar asked, too quickly. "We’re fine as we are. If you need more space, we can just buy a bigger place."

You blinked. Well, you three did just that and actually managed to afford and move in to a new house. But still, living together.

"There’s no reason to make a drastic change," Alhaitham added. His tone was level, but his voice had that firm edge you rarely heard unless he was serious. 

"You’ve spent your whole life taking care of us. Let us take care of you now."

Your heart squeezed, but you pushed on.

"It’s not about money. Or space. I just... I’ve never done anything for myself before. I want to try this."

Althar’s smile vanished entirely. Alhaitham’s eyes sharpened, steel behind calm. 

"I think we’re fine just the way we are.” Althar nodded furiously. 

“Please~ We can’t live without you!” 

When the twins used their puppy eyes on you, even when their adults, you could only sigh. 

Fine, maybe you're overthinking it, besides, you did like leaving with the twins as they help with chores.

Besides, rent is expensive these days...

You tried to pretend everything was fine. Routine held the household together, at least outwardly. But the shift was there.

They were always around now. One of them, sometimes both, hovering.

Althar’s arm would wrap around your shoulder while you worked, head leaning against yours. 

"You’ve been at it too long. Come relax."

Alhaitham would slide a cup of calming tea onto your desk without a word, a book you once mentioned tucked under it.

The hugs grew more frequent. Tighter. Lingering.

Gifts began to show up. Althar's were flashy and fun: perfume, trinkets, brightly wrapped boxes with "just because" notes. Alhaitham’s were quieter, thoughtful things. A pen engraved with your initials. A silk bookmark.

They competed, in a quiet, implicit way.

Games. Meals. Philosophical debates. Alhaitham cooking with you, Althar pulling you out for a movie.

It wasn’t subtle. They were trying to sway you. To remind you how much they adored you. To make you second guess.

And gods, it was working.

Fine.

Your best friend says you're too soft, but if you ever wanted to go over to her place, she's always open.

You're estatic of course, and your twins? They also were pretty happy with the arrangement, even making sure that when you planned to return home after Girl's Night, that the house was nice and clean.

This...was nice.

8. Stay Away from our Dear Sister!

Then, you received a call out of nowhere.

The number was unfamiliar.

"Hello?"

"Oh my god, is it really you, my daughter?” 

You knew that voice. You hadn’t heard it in over ten years, but your body remembered.

"Yes," you said, slowly.

"What do you want?"

Your mother hesitated. 

"We’ve... heard how well you and the boys are doing and we’re proud of you."

Your stomach turned.

"Why now?"

"We... just wanted to see you again.”

You paused, questions popping into your head. Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you answered.

"Fine," you said, barely recognizing your voice. "Let’s meet."

Then you hung up forcefully, feeling tears threatening to spill.

No. Stay strong. Everything is going to be fine.

Now you just have to convince your twins.

"They need money," Alhaitham said flatly, arms crossed.

"Why else would they call now after so many years?"

Althar slammed his fist against the table. 

"Seriously? Now they show up?"

"I want to meet them," you said. "Not for them, for me. Just once. Then we can be done."

Alhaitham’s gaze pierced into yours. After a long silence, he nodded. 

"One meeting." Althar grumbled. 

"I’m not promising to be nice."

"I’m not asking you to be," you replied. 

"Just be there."

The twins looked at each other before nodding, and instantly, Althar wrapped an arm around your shoulder. 

“Let’s get a wardrobe change!” Suddenly, the boys took you out, and all three of you got some fancy new outfits. 

According to Althar, “we can’t look shabby, can we?” 

“Not in front of them.” Alhaitham responded coldly, before paying for the whole thing with a card swipe. 

You let them be, besides, they look good, as usual. 

When you three posed in front of a mirror, you grinned.

Whatever happens, you know you three can push through it. Together.

The restaurant was too nice. Gilded edges, velvet chairs. A stage.

Your parents were already there, dressed like they’d stepped out of a photoshoot.

"My children!" your mother said, rising with a rehearsed smile, but you saw the initial surprise on her face when she saw the branded outfits.

"It’s so good to see you."

Althar didn’t smile, in fact he said almost sarcastically. Alhaitham gave a nod. You forced one.

The conversation was awkward. Polite small talk masking the tension. Your parents tried to play the role of a long-lost family. They cooed over how tall the twins had gotten, how proud they were.

Then your father finally brought it up.

"So...we’ve hit some hard times. I heard you three are all successful, so if you can just give something small to help us get back on our feet. We really appreciate it."

Silence.

“How much?” Alhaitham crossed his arms, and your father returned a gentle smile. 

“10 thousand dollars.”

Alhaitham looked at you. Althar scowled, and you’re fake smile completely vanished. 

"So you did come for money," Althar said, voice sharp.

Your mother fidgeted. 

"We’ve made mistakes. But we’re still your family."

"No," Alhaitham said quietly. "She is our family."

You breathed out. 

"This was a mistake."

You stood. So did your brothers. 

"Wait! You can't just abandon us!"

How dare they-

"Ha! You abandoned us first!" Althar screamed back.

"What, now we have some money, and you crawl back like some leech?"

"Althar! You can't speak to your parents-"

"Enough." Alhaitham yelled, making everyone stop and look at him.

"Don't embarrass yourself any more." Your parents shuddered when Alhaitham gave them a death glare.

"This will be our last meeting, don't look for us again or we will call the police."

Your parents tried to get you to stay, but you stormed out with your twins behind you.

You didn’t look back.

Later that night, Althar wrapped an arm around your shoulders while Alhaitham passed you a cup of tea. All three of you sat on the couch, processing the dinner and them.

"You did what you had to," Alhaitham said simply.

"They don’t deserve you," Althar muttered.

You leaned into both of them, heart aching but lightened.

“You two deserve better.” Alhaitham and Althar just hugged you and you hugged back.

Yet here you were, bound by invisible chains, trapped in a space so foreign yet familiar, sitting before a man you never imagined facing like this. He watched you with quiet intensity, the air around him heavy with intent.

“Why?”

The word escaped your lips before you could stop it.

You weren’t supposed to ask him questions, not this man. But again, you weren’t supposed to be here and curiosity, laced with a tinge of betrayal, pushed the question out anyway.

This was the one thing you could not foresee.

Damn these constellations.

The Secretive Plotter, or as you know it, Yoo Joonghyuk, tilted his head, a ghost of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. He was familiar, yet entirely different from the regressor you knew. 

His presence was colder, sharper. 

This Yoo Joonghyuk was from another round, with knowledge and experiences, and hella OP compared to the current sunfish you know. 

“You ask why, but I think you already know,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that sent a chill down your spine.

Your mind raced, searching for a logical explanation. It was true that you had foreseen many things: the rise and fall of constellations, the struggles of your companions, and Kim Dokja’s suicidal tendencies. 

But this? This was different. Secretive Plotter wasn’t part of the plan, not like this.

“Enlighten me,” you replied, forcing your voice to remain calm, steady. 

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze piercing, as if he was peeling away the layers of your defenses, exposing every thought, every fear. Then he spoke again, his voice a little colder this time. 

“They don’t deserve you.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Them. 

He didn’t need to say the names. Kim Dokja, Yoo Joonghyuk, the ones you had followed through countless regressions, the ones who trusted you, depended on you. And, in a way, you depended on them too. 

But this? Is this guy lonely or something? Right, the sunfish tendencies never changed.

Then, the realization hit you like a blow to the chest.

“This is because of them?” you asked, incredulity creeping into your tone. 

“Don’t tell me you kidnapped me just because you’re… jealous?”

The smile on his face vanished, replaced with something far darker, far more dangerous. He stepped closer, closing the already too-small gap between you.

You refused to shrink back, refused to show any sign of fear. You had faced worse. You had to remind yourself of that.

“They don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice sharp, laced with bitterness. “You… you’re different. You think and you save everyone. You see the bigger picture.”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest.

“And what? You think you deserve me?” You regretted the words the moment they left your mouth, but there was no taking them back.

Secretive Plotter’s gaze darkened, and for a moment, you thought he might actually lash out. Instead, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a near-whisper.

“I see what they don’t. I see you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a brief moment, you were at a loss. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, and yet… there was something unsettlingly intimate in the way he spoke to you, as if you were the only person in the universe who mattered to him.

“You think Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk don’t care?” you asked, trying to regain your footing, “They rely on me because we’re a team. We survive because we trust each other.”

“Trust,” he repeated, the word dripping with disdain. “You trust them too much, and that’s why you’ll never see the truth.”

You clenched your fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. “And what truth is that?”

He straightened, his expression unreadable. 

“That you don’t need them. That they hold you back.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat.

Could it be true? You had always been the one to guide them, to think ahead, to strategize. But you needed them, didn’t you? Without them, would you have made it this far? The doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

“No,” you said firmly, shaking your head. “You’re wrong. We’re stronger together. That’s how we’ve always survived.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but his gaze remained locked on yours, unblinking, as if searching for something within you. Then, slowly, he extended his hand toward you, palm up, as if offering something invisible, something dangerous.

“You don’t have to go back to them,” he said quietly. “Stay with me. I’ll give you everything you need.”

You stared at his hand, your mind racing. The air around you felt thick, oppressive, as if the very fabric of reality was pressing down on you, waiting for you to make a choice.

Stay with him? Abandon Kim Dokja and Yoo Joonghyuk? The very thought seemed impossible, absurd.

And yet… there was a part of you, a small, traitorous part, that hesitated. What would it mean to follow him?

But no. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

You leaned back, refusing to take his hand. 

“I’m not abandoning them. I won’t.”

His expression remained calm, but there was something simmering just beneath the surface, something dark and dangerous.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Maybe,” you said, lifting your chin defiantly. “But it’s my choice to make.”

Silence stretched between you, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he lowered his hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’ll come to see the truth eventually,” he said, his voice soft but filled with certainty. “And when you do, I’ll be waiting.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. All you could do was turn away, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to make sense of everything that had just happened. But one thing was clear: this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

The Secretive Plotter would be waiting for you. Always.

Damn, let’s get out of these chains first.

After so many regressions, seeing you alive felt both like a blessing and a curse. 

Secretive Plotter…or Yoo Joongyhuk had known you in countless timelines, each one ending the same way. No matter what he did, you died, often too soon, always painfully. 

The seer who guided him, the strategist who did their best to save everyone, you were his best and brightest ally.

In each regression, Yoo Joonghyuk became fond of you. You weren’t just a teammate to him, you were an anchor.

Someone who could foresee danger, who could match his intellect, and yet, no matter how many times he watched the world reset, you couldn’t escape your fate. 

You were always bound to die. 

Sometimes protecting him. Sometimes as a casualty of the scenario itself.

Each death had burned itself into his memory like a scar that never healed. There was nothing he could do to stop it. 

Even in the 3rd round with Yoo Joonghyuk and Kim Dokja, you were doomed.

No one could save you.

Except now, he could.

Now that he had ascended, now that he was Secretive Plotter, far removed from the cycle of life and death, he had power.

Power to bend the rules, to keep you safe in a place where nothing could harm you.

He couldn’t lose you again. 

Not to Yoo Joonghyuk, not to Kim Dokja, and certainly not to the cruel hand of fate. I

In his realm, you were beyond the reach of those pathetic mortals, beyond the reach of death itself.

But when he saw you struggling against your chains, and even arguing with his kkomas...a soft smile rose to his lips.