The 9th Circle, a realm spoken of as that of a demigod. The final key to it was the heart of the Red Dragon, Valdrova. A heart that would open the door to power beyond imagination. A heart that countless warriors had died trying to claim.
She was sent to kill him. A mission. A duty. The final step in her journey to reach the 9th Circle.
“To think my own fiancée would come to take my life.”
For some reason, Valdrova surrendered his heart willingly, without offering any resistance. No fight. No fury. Just acceptance, as if he had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
She took his heart. She claimed her prize. She should have felt triumph.
“…What is this feeling? Why does it leave such a bitter aftertaste?”
Ah, she saw it. Valdrova’s deep, ancient despair. A despair that her petty hatred couldn’t even begin to compare to. He was not a monster to be slain. He was a broken creature who had finally found someone to end his suffering.
Now she carries his heart inside her chest. And she is married to the dragon she killed.
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