<Ngh…>
The arrow pierced the right side of the dragon’s body. That was Sigurd’s special weapon against dragons.
It was called the Thunder.
<Hrk… Hng…>
Hilda could only watch the battle play out. “Ah… Ahhh…”
With his chest pierced, the dragon took Hilda in his jaws and fled from the king.
From behind, they heard Sigurd’s voice. “I’ll give you enough time to say your farewells. But you won’t get away, no matter where you go.”
The king followed them at a slow and easy pace.
With Hilda in his grasp, the dragon raced through the forest. But the strength and speed of his legs were beginning to wane.
When they reached the river, he collapsed. This was the place where they had first met. The arrow of light had gouged a hole in the right side of the dragon’s body, and the wound was oozing silver blood.
“Wah… Ahhh…” Despite her tears, Hilda pressed her hands over the hole in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The warmth of the dragon’s blood seeped through her fingers. The warmth of life was rapidly spilling from his body.
“What should I…? C’mon, what should I do?”
She couldn’t come up with any way to stop the dragon’s bleeding, and she was out of the Miracle.
<It’s no use, no matter what you do. Sigurd’s arrow delivered a mortal wound. I will soon die.>
“No! I won’t let that happen,” Hilda cried, though she normally never raised her voice. “I finally found my family. Don’t leave me alone.”
Now that she knew the warmth of companionship, she didn’t think she could bear the cold of losing it.
“If there’s nothing I can do to save you…” She took the dragon’s hand and pressed its claws to her own slender neck. “Then I’ll die with you.”
<Wait, listen to me.>
“Nothing you say can change my mind.”
<Listen…>
“Even if I survived this, I would be captured and burned at the stake.”
<Hilda!>
When he called her name, she finally stopped.
<There’s a way—a way for you to avoid death.>
“That can’t be possible…”
<I will bequeath to you a gift. The special power I told you about before.>
“I already told you I don’t need that.”
<Please take it. I don’t want you to die. So long as you have that power, you should even be able to beat Sigurd.> The dragon gazed at Hilda intently with his single unclouded eye. <Please. There’s no more time.>
She couldn’t disregard a look of that intensity from the one she loved. “…All right.”
<Thank you…>
The dragon bowed his head. He was trembling. She could tell that he was summoning the last of his strength. He pointed his claw at her. It appeared he was trying to touch her, so she helped guide him. The dragon’s claw came to rest on Brunhild’s throat.
Suddenly, Hilda sensed something flowing into her.
It was powerful and warm. It filled every part of her body.
<I have transferred my power to you. Listen carefully. You use it by—>
Suddenly, Hilda was struck by something heavy.
The dragon’s neck lost its strength, and his head had slumped onto her.
“Ah…”
An arrow of light had pierced the dragon’s skull.
Sigurd had caught up with them.
“Don’t say too much now, dragon.”
The creature’s head slipped from Hilda’s hands.
“Ah… Ahhh…”
The dragon was dead. His flesh rotted and began to melt. His body had somehow managed to keep its shape after taking the first arrow, but now it was finally falling apart.
“Wait. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone.”
As the dragon’s corpse spread toward the water, melting away, she scooped it up with her hands. But the flesh slipped through her fingers, running away from her.
All that remained of the dragon was a single claw. It floated alone on the water’s surface like a memento of the dead.
“Hng… Ahhhh…” Hilda wept, holding the dragon’s claw as her resentment and lamentation echoed through the forest.
“So it’s true,” Sigurd muttered, gazing at her. “I never thought it would bequeath that which it had refused me so stubbornly.”
Hilda had no idea what Sigurd was talking about.
The only thing she knew was this:
This man had slain the dragon.
“You killed him…!”
For the first time in her life, Hilda was seized by the urge to take someone’s life. She leaped off the ground. She wasn’t even thinking about whether she could win or not. She had a weapon—the claw the dragon had left behind.
Facing her, Sigurd gave Hilda an arctic stare.
“How unsightly…”
He easily grabbed her hand as she was swinging the dragon’s claw downward, then pushed her to the ground.
Sigurd straddled her back, restraining her under him. She could no longer move.
Her face a mess from tears and snot, Hilda said, “Why…must you steal from me again? How many times must you take before you’re satisfied?” She glared at Sigurd. “Brother…”
The man she had called brother looked down at her with cruel eyes.
Before coming to Tauber Village, Hilda had gone by a different name.
Brunhild Siegfried.
Yes, the very man who had killed her family…
…was in fact her real kin.
“As far as I’m concerned, you are not my little sister,” he said.
Hilda—no, Brunhild felt numbness at the nape of her neck, and a smack sounded in her ears. The Thunder sent her consciousness spiraling into darkness.
Sigurd looked down at the unconscious woman, reflecting.
Vile dragon. What a nuisance to leave me with at the very end.
Sigurd knew exactly what the dragon had bequeathed to Hilda: the ultimate power he had been seeking for all these years.
He wanted to force her to give that power to him at this very moment. He wouldn’t even mind torturing her to accomplish this. But he needed to be cautious.
If the torture awakened Hilda to her powers, it would all be over for him.
Would it be better for him to just kill her, then?
On the off chance she became aware of her powers, there would be no going back. Wouldn’t it be safer to simply give up on taking the dragon’s gift for himself and consign Hilda to oblivion, powers and all?