Chapter 243: Cries, Cracks, And Choosing Damnation

Cyrus moved on pure instinct—obsidian wings folding around Kane’s frail body, sheltering him as debris crashed against dragon scales.

"Hold on." Cyrus scooped Kane into his arms with desperate gentleness. "Just hold on."

Kane’s head lolled against Cyrus’s shoulder. His nine-tailed form flickered, dissolving back into human form as consciousness slipped.

"Tired..."

"I know." Crimson energy flared as Cyrus’s wings unfurled again. "Stay with me."

The cavern collapsed behind them as Cyrus launched skyward through volcanic fissures.

Cyrus’s wings faltered mid-flight, crimson scales flickering as exhaustion clawed at him.

Blood dripped from gashes across his chest where the King’s claws had torn through flesh and bone.

His muscles screamed with each beat of his wings, demanding rest he couldn’t afford.

Not yet. Not when Kane’s breathing grew shallower with each passing second.

The volcanic shaft stretched endlessly above, narrowing into a sliver of moonlight.

Cyrus tucked Kane closer, folding tattered wings against his spine as he forced his battered body through the constricted vent.

Sharp obsidian scraped scales raw. Something warm trickled down Cyrus’s back—more blood joining the crimson already staining his skin.

Kane’s spirit energy pulsed erratically against Cyrus’s chest, a dying heartbeat struggling to maintain rhythm.

"Stay," Cyrus rasped, pushing harder through the crushing stone. "You promised me normal. Dates and arguments and—"

His voice cracked.

The vent opened into humid jungle air. Cyrus’s wings gave out completely, transforming mid-collapse into human form as they crashed through the canopy. Branches tore at exposed skin. Vines snapped beneath their combined weight.

They slammed into moss-covered ground.

Cyrus rolled instinctively, taking the impact across his shoulders while cradling Kane’s limp body against his chest. Pain exploded through every nerve, but he held on.

Held Kane.

Somewhere overhead, disturbed birds shrieked alarm calls into the night.

Cyrus forced himself upright on trembling arms, crimson energy flickering weakly around his fingertips as he pressed his palm to Kane’s chest.

Kane lay limp in Cyrus’s arms, chest barely rising with shallow breaths.

Alive.

But barely.

Tears carved tracks through ash and blood on Cyrus’s face as he pressed trembling fingers against Kane’s throat, searching for a pulse that flickered too weakly, too slowly.

"No." The word broke on a sob. "No, you don’t get to—"

His composure shattered completely.

Centuries of control, of carefully maintained distance, of burying emotions beneath layers of ice and duty—

Gone.

Cyrus clutched Kane tighter, crimson energy sparking uselessly around his fingertips as panic consumed rational thought.

Kane shouldn’t have come to the cave.

Shouldn’t have depleted his spirit energy fighting a battle that was Cyrus’s responsibility.

If Cyrus had been stronger, faster, better—he could have defeated the Dragon King alone. Retrieved the Roaring Shard without Kane risking everything.

Without Kane dying in a jungle clearing because Cyrus failed to protect him.

"I’m sorry." Cyrus pressed his forehead against Kane’s, voice breaking on each word. "I’m so sorry. I should have—I promised you’d be safe. I promised—"

Kane’s fingers twitched weakly against Cyrus’s chest.

"Not...your fault..."

"It is." Crimson tears dripped onto pale skin. "I couldn’t protect you. I wasn’t strong enough. I’m never—"

Kane’s hand found Cyrus’s jaw with trembling effort. His eyes fluttered open just long enough to recognize the devastation in Cyrus’s face.

And for a split second, he looked afraid — not of dying, but of leaving Cyrus alone.

"Idiot dragon..."

Kane’s hand fell limp against the moss-covered ground.

Cyrus caught it before gravity could pull it away completely, pressing Kane’s palm against his own face with trembling fingers.

"No." The word broke on a sob. "Not like this. Not again."

The first time had been centuries ago—that silver-white fox kit who’d bitten his thumb and stumbled away before collapsing.

Cyrus had tried everything, fed the creature his own blood, but the wounds had been too severe.

He’d buried the fox beneath an ancient pine tree, mourning a creature whose name he’d never learned.

The second time hurt worse.

An older Kane, weathered by battles Cyrus hadn’t witnessed, standing beside him as the Spirit Realm burned.

They’d destroyed the Beating Heart together, saved what remained of their people—and Kane had smiled at him one last time before the realm’s collapse swallowed him whole.

Cyrus had searched the ruins for weeks, finding nothing but ash.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Not in this lifetime. Not when they’d finally found each other again.

The villa felt impossibly far.

Cyrus stumbled through dense jungle undergrowth, Kane’s weight growing heavier with each step.

Vines caught at Cyrus’s ankles. Thorns tore fresh wounds across skin already shredded by volcanic stone.

He barely noticed.

Pain meant nothing compared to the fading warmth in Kane’s body

Memories crashed through Cyrus’s fractured composure unbidden—Kane’s laughter echoing through the penthouse when he’d discovered Cyrus’s romance novel collection.

The warmth of Kane’s body pressed against his in the darkness after their first night together.

Kane’s stubborn insistence on cooking breakfast despite Cyrus’s protests.

They’d merely had months of something resembling happiness before fate ripped it away again.

Before Cyrus’s past caught up and destroyed everything he touched.

Cyrus’s grip tightened, crimson energy flaring desperately around them both as he pushed harder through the jungle.

The villa’s lights glowed ahead through the trees.

Almost there.

"I have everything I need," Cyrus whispered against Kane’s silver hair.

"The Roaring Shard, the ritual chamber—I can recreate the Eternal God Crystal. I can save you."

His fingers brushed the Roaring Shard in his pocket, feeling divine power pulse against his palm in recognition.

Everything was falling into place. He just needed more time.

Divine power radiated from the fragment, recognizing desperation when it sensed it.

Use me, the Shard seemed to whisper. I can stabilize him. Keep him breathing until you forge the Crystal.

Cyrus’s gaze snapped to the artifact.

The temptation crashed over him like a tidal wave—immediate relief, Kane’s core temporarily reinforced, enough time to complete the ritual properly.

All he had to do was reach for it.

Let divine corruption seep into his own spirit.

Cyrus’s fingers tightened around the artifact, corrupted divine energy bleeding through the cracks in his control.

He’d survived losing Kane twice before. He wouldn’t—couldn’t—endure a third time.

Even if it meant becoming what the Dragon King had been.

The Shard pulsed brighter, offering power.

Offering salvation.

Offering damnation wrapped in crimson light.

Cyrus pressed his lips to Kane’s forehead, tears streaming.

"I choose you."