Chapter 54: The Dragon Slaying Campaign (7)

The red dragon with three hundred years of dominance... went still.

For a heartbeat, no one moved.

Even the monsters seemed to hesitate, instincts stalling as if something had been ripped out of the world.

Then the guildmaster pulled his blade free, breathing hard, shoulders rising and falling.

"It’s dead," Kaia whispered, lowering her bow slowly, still staring as if expecting it to rise again.

Arthur stood frozen, face pale—not from fear, but from the sudden realization that the moment he wanted had passed him by... and the price for his mistake was lying burned behind the rocks.

Kyle stared at the body for a few moments, breathing heavily. Then he ran quickly toward Weston to check on him, leaving the monsters to return to their normal state.

When he arrived, he found Mira trying to treat him with healing potions, but it didn’t help much. His body was so badly burned that his clothes were stuck to him.

Kyle’s jaw tightened until it hurt when he saw Weston’s condition. He wasn’t as close to him as he was to Alara and Mira, but he had been a good friend to him throughout the party.

Now, seeing him in this state sent a tight, painful twist through his chest.

He had realized since moving to this world that it was not a game, not a novel, but a real world.

People could really die here, and he himself could die here without any miracle to save him.

He understood this well and tried to be cautious in every step he took and to plan well without taking risks.

However, despite this, part of his mind continued to dream of the fantasy worlds he had read about in novels, dreaming that it was impossible for anything bad to happen.

But the sight before him made that part disappear.

He was not a hero, he was not blessed or protected. He did not live in a world where the plot unfolded in a way that suited your mood.

He was alive, real, and anything could happen to him at any time.

Kyle immediately opened his system and went to the shop, quickly searching for any healing potion that could cure Weston.

But at the same time, he heard hurried footsteps approaching them.

He raised his head, and the first thing he saw was the divine beauty with white hair—the saintess.

The saintess’s gaze snapped to Weston without looking at the rest of the party around him.

She frowned slightly as she saw the severity of his injuries, then knelt beside him, clasped her hands together, and muttered a few words.

Immediately, a faint golden light formed around her hands, concentrated slightly, then directed itself toward Weston.

Weston’s body trembled slightly as the light embraced him. Then, before Kyle’s eyes, Weston’s burned body began to gradually return to normal.

The color of his burned skin returned to its natural color, and his face, which had become difficult to recognize, gradually returned to the warm face they all knew.

Celestia’s hands stayed clasped for a few seconds longer, as if she was forcing the last of the light to obey.

The golden glow around Weston thickened once—then finally sank into his skin and faded.

After a few moments, Weston was lying on the ground without any injuries, completely healed.

That was the saintess’s power—something close to a miracle.

For a heartbeat, nobody spoke.

Mira blinked like she didn’t trust what she was seeing. Then she let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and leaned forward, wiping her face hard with her sleeve.

Leo exhaled, relief finally loosening his body

Alara’s posture loosened for the first time since the dragon turned toward them. She stared at Weston like she’d been bracing to lose him... and didn’t know what to do with the fact that she hadn’t.

Kyle stared at Weston’s body, surprised by what had happened. His shoulders finally relaxed, as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him.

Then his eyes shifted to Celestia.

The saintess was still kneeling. Sweat beaded at her temple, catching the light. Her shoulders trembled faintly, and when she tried to stand, her movement faltered.

Kaia—who just arrived with Arthur—caught her elbow immediately, steadying her without a word.

Arthur turned, alarm flashing across his face. "Celestia..."

"I’m fine," Celestia said, but the calm didn’t hide the strain.

Kyle watched her closely. `So healing like that... isn’t free.`

Behind them, the valley didn’t stay quiet for long.

The moment the dragon died, the monsters that had swarmed it lost the strange unity that had driven them. Hunger snapped back into place. Fear turned into frenzy.

Basalt crawlers began to scatter—then redirect. Valley hawks screamed and dove again, no longer aiming for the dragon.

Kaia’s head snapped up. "They’re turning!"

The guildmaster didn’t hesitate. "Clean them up."

The team moved fast.

The axe girl smashed a crawler mid-lunge, turning it into broken plating. Kaia’s arrows pinned two hawks out of the air before they could reach the wounded. Arthur cut down another with a flash of light—fast, sharp, almost angry.

Celestia didn’t join the killing. She stayed near Weston, one hand hovering as if ready to pour out the last drop of strength she had left.

Kyle stood with his party and didn’t flare his eyes again. He let the veterans do what they did best.

Within minutes, the last of the hawks lay scattered across scorched ground, and the final crawler stopped twitching under someone’s boot.

The guildmaster wiped his blade once and looked around, voice carrying. "We’ll rest for half-hour. Then we secure the site and prepare to return."

They nodded, grateful for permission to breathe again.

Alara stayed by Weston, her voice low as she spoke to Mira and Leo. "Make him rest well."

Mira nodded repeatedly, still wiping her face.

Kyle stayed with them, resting a little after this difficult battle. But his attention drifted—pulled by something he couldn’t ignore.

Across the valley, Arthur and his party weren’t standing with the others.

They were moving. Not toward the dragon corpse. Not toward the guildmaster. But toward the cave entrance.

Kyle’s eyes narrowed.

He thought it was simple greed. A hero’s party going to grab a trophy. A dragon’s lair meant treasure—everyone knew that story.

But then Kyle remembered Arthur sprinting out of formation. He remembered the moment the circle failed. He remembered Weston falling.

A quiet anger slid back into his chest. `After everything... you’re still chasing glory. Still chasing loot.`

He watched them for a moment, and when they had all entered the cave, he moved away from his party as if he was just scouting.

Then he slipped secretly into the cave, behind the hero’s party.