The temple ruins rose at the edge of the mountains, carved into cliffs older than empires. Stone walls etched with dragons stretched toward the sky, their weathered faces telling a story of forgotten ages. Kaito touched the carvings, his fingers tracing the lines, and realized this was where Adrian's final steps had led. His brother had died searching for this place — a temple where memory was carved into stone eternal.
Here, he understood the truth. Dragons had not cursed mankind. They had guided it. They were teachers, guardians, partners to kings. The curse had been man's — fear, greed, betrayal.
But the order arrived before Kaito could linger in revelation. They filled the valley like a tide, their white cloaks gleaming against the grey stone. At their front stood their leader — a man masked in bone, his eyes cold and merciless.
"You are the graveborn," the leader said, his voice cutting like steel. "Neither man nor dragon. A mistake. We ended your brother. We will end you as well."
Kaito raised his sword, fire humming in its veins. "You will end nothing. My brother's memory is fire. And fire does not die."
The battle was chaos. Steel rang against steel, arrows split the air, dragonfire turned the sky to gold and ash. Yù Lóng tore through ranks of men, but chains weighted her wings, spears pierced her sides. She fought with fury, but even a dragon could bleed.
Kaito fought until his body was fire itself. He met the masked leader in the ruins of the temple, their blades clashing amid collapsing stone. With a roar, Kaito's fire split the mask in two, and the man's scream died as flame consumed him.
The order faltered, breaking like glass. They fled, their courage shattered, their chants silenced. But victory cost dearly.
Yù Lóng collapsed, her body heaving, blood pouring like molten gold into the dust. Kaito dropped his sword and ran to her side, pressing his hands against her wounds.
"Don't you dare leave me," he whispered, his voice breaking. His tears mixed with her blood. "Not after all this. Not after Adrian."
The dragon's eyes dimmed, her breath shallow. "You swore vengeance," she rasped, her voice fading. "But vengeance was never the end. Choose, graveborn… let me die, and bury me with your brother… or carry me, and carry his legacy."
Kaito's heart screamed for vengeance, for the oath he had lived by. But Adrian's memory came to him — not as smoke, not as sorrow, but as light. His brother smiling, his ink-stained fingers writing words that would outlive fire.
"I will not bury you," Kaito whispered fiercely. "I will not bury him again. I will carry you both."
He pressed Adrian's journal to his chest with one hand, and with the other, he poured all his fire, grief, and love into keeping Yù Lóng alive.
When dawn came, the ruins lay in ash. But man and dragon rose together — scarred, bloodied, but unbroken.
The world would call him graveborn, monster, curse. But he knew the truth: he was the last guardian of his brother's memory, and the last protector of the last dragon.
As the sun rose over the mountains, Yù Lóng spread her wings, her shadow vast against the dawn. Kaito stood at her side, no longer chained to vengeance, no longer hollow with grief.
But something greater. Something reborn from the grave.
And far in the distance, upon the horizon of flame-colored skies, cloaked riders regrouped, their banners rising anew. The order was not finished. Nor was his story.
The world had not seen its last graveborn.