Chapter 21 – The Whisper of the White Dragon

The council chamber was thick with tension. Maps of Beijing lay sprawled across the table, lines of failed offensives marked in red. The discussion circled endlessly: bombs, missiles, heavy artillery—all useless. The Black Dragon had shrugged them off like mere sparks in a storm.

Kohaku stood silent, his visor glowing faintly. Finally, he spoke.

“This operation should be halted. Every step forward costs lives—and gains us nothing.”

The room froze.

One of the generals slammed his fist on the table. “We can’t halt now! Too much has been prepared. To stop here would mean surrender!”

“Surrender?” Kohaku’s voice cut low, steady, dangerous. “What you’re planning is slaughter. You’re feeding soldiers to fire.”

But the council wouldn’t bend. Pride and desperation bound them tighter than reason. Even Eva and Seo’s arguments were drowned out by the noise.

Kohaku’s hands clenched. Without another word, he turned and left the chamber, the heated voices fading behind him.

The night air of Tianjin was cold, yet heavy, carrying with it something else.

A whisper.

“…Kohaku…”

It was soft, almost tender, calling from beyond the campfires. His steps slowed, then followed, deeper into the shadows.

Behind him, Meiyun had noticed his absence, and quietly followed.

From the mist stepped Yolanda—the black-haired Elf seer whose presence seemed half ethereal.

“Yolanda…” Meiyun breathed, eyes wide. “Wait—you can see her too, Kohaku?”

Kohaku frowned. “Of course I can. She’s standing right in front of me.”

Meiyun’s lips parted, disbelief trembling in her words. “Only those chosen… or descended from the old heroes… can see her.”

Kohaku’s gaze sharpened, but Yolanda’s calm voice drew him in.

“The Black Dragon is not just a beast. It is the amalgamation of soldiers’ spirits, bound with the soul of their commander. Hate has devoured them. They cannot be purified. Only destroyed.”

Her words struck deep.

“Then where is its weakness?” Kohaku asked.

Yolanda’s crimson eyes glimmered. “Its heart… and its mind. Strike both, or it will rise again. Remember—this dragon thinks as much as it hungers.”

Kohaku’s grip tightened on his weapon. “So I go alone, then. One man to pierce the core.”

Meiyun’s voice cracked in panic. “Alone?! You’d throw yourself away? What about your allies—your friends waiting for you to return?”

Kohaku turned slightly, his voice heavy under the night sky. “If that’s what it takes to end this, then so be it.”

“No!” Meiyun stepped forward, her hand trembling. “There has to be another way. We’ll find it. Together.”

For the first time, Kohaku’s expression faltered, hidden though it was. His silence spoke more than words.

At last, he broke it. “I’m building a weapon. A prototype—Railgun Buster. One shot only. If it fails… there won’t be a second chance.”

Meiyun’s eyes sharpened with sudden resolve. “Then we don’t waste it. We make that one shot count. We force the beast down—and strike where it can’t rise again.”

For the first time that night, Kohaku nodded. “The same way we did in Korea. But this time… only with those who know what they’re facing.”

Meiyun’s breath steadied, though her heart still trembled. She knew this meant walking the edge of death again. Yet beside him, it felt possible.

When she left to prepare, Yolanda remained, her figure half fading into the moonlight. In her hand, a talisman shimmered—a carving of a white dragon, glowing faintly.

She placed it into Kohaku’s palm.

“This is no mere charm. When the shadow closes in, this will remind you of the path forward.”

Kohaku stared at it, his voice low. “Why give this to me?”

Yolanda’s smile was sad, almost maternal. “Because one day, she—Meiyun—will need you more than anyone. Guide her. Lead her. Bring her to victory.”

Her form shimmered, dissolving into the wind, leaving only the talisman glowing in his palm.

Kohaku stood still, then turned back toward camp. Agnes waited by the tent, sensors humming, her synthetic eyes tracking him.

“Agnes. Prepare the Railgun. Inform Rika, Seo, and Eva—tomorrow, we depart. No army. No backup.”

He placed a hand on the weapon, its immense frame gleaming in the torchlight.

“This time… there will be no failure. Not again.”