Gardenia’s Heart

Sunlight fell against her skin, but its pleasant warmth was nowhere to be found.

So high in the sky that the temperature had dropped dozens of degrees below zero, Nia—though she no longer needed to breathe—could still see warm vapor escaping her lips each time the thin air moved in and out of her lungs by habit.

They were high enough that the curvature of the world was clearly visible along the horizon. Because of the mist, everything below looked like a vast expanse of grayish-white land. Above her head, the sky shifted in a gradient from deep blue to violet, until at last it dissolved into the dark vacuum beyond.

It had been at least an hour since they left Athamas. Bahamut had flown carelessly the entire time, her mana so dense that the cutting winds around them felt no stronger than a gentle breeze against her face.

“Eh? What—?!”

Finally waking up, a young boy in a long overcoat—held firmly by the end of the dragon woman’s tail—began shouting wildly. “Baha—M-Mother, what’s going on?!”

“You’re finally awake, brat?” Bahamut hummed, glancing back over her shoulder. “Start spreading your mana to warm yourself. I’m not covering you anymore.”

Her words made Nia glance downward—specifically at the white-scaled tail holding her. Even though she was using mana to shield her body from the cold and wind, Bahamut’s tail wasn’t repelling her. From that, she concluded that the dragon woman could decide when to activate her innate ability.

“W-What? Wait! Where are we? What’s happening?!”

As the sudden cold hit him, the groggy boy hurriedly spread a dense layer of bluish mana around himself. Both hands clutched his head, suggesting a terrible hangover, and only then did he notice the new travel companion who had appeared out of nowhere.

“What? Why is the descendant of the demon ki—” He abruptly stopped himself, covering his mouth before shaking his head. Rubbing his face with one hand, he looked at Bahamut with concern. “Why is she here, of all people? I thought you said you wouldn’t get involved or interfere!”

“The situation changed a little. I’m going to play with Jelly for a few days, that’s all. Nothing serious.” Bahamut shrugged. Now that the boy was fully awake, she beat her wings faster. “Besides, after what I saw, it might be worth interfering—just a little.”

Seeing the dragon woman refuse to elaborate any further, laughing lightly to herself, the boy had no choice but to sigh.

“So you just wanted an excuse not to go back to base and work, didn’t you? If you’re going to ‘play,’ did I really have to come along? You know I hate it up here. There’s barely any air—my lungs hurt. And don’t think I forgot, I didn’t even get to eat because I passed out from that drink!”

Flailing his arms while still dangling upside down from the white tail, he shouted his protests with dramatic determination.

“I’m going to need you here for a small part of what I plan to do,” Bahamut huffed, rolling her mismatched eyes before giving him a teasing smile. “Besides, this might be a good opportunity for you to learn how to talk to other people, brat. Weren’t you the one complaining that no one at the base understands you?”

At his mother’s words, the boy rubbed his head beneath his overcoat, his relentless protests finally subsiding.

When silence returned once more, Nia wondered if she should ask Bahamut where they were heading. However, the moment it appeared before her eyes, every word became trapped in her throat.

Like a small world abandoned by the common laws of reality, the gigantic island floating in the sky rose in silent majesty.

Encircled by a glowing ring that rotated slowly—like the burning scar of a dying star—a crimson-orange aurora wrapped around the island. Fragments of rock drifted soundlessly around the luminous vortex.

On the ground, colossal stone pillars stretched upward as if trying to pierce space itself. Between them, the terrain was carved with veins of crystalline stone that pulsed with a cold light, sharply contrasting with the crimson veil revolving around the island. The soil split into irregular paths, covered in strange low vegetation—plants that shimmered in shades of pink and violet.

Nia didn’t need long to understand what this place was.

“A labyrinth…”

It was far larger than a city. With a single glance, she estimated it to be at least a quarter the size of the elves’ forest—if not more.

With ease, Bahamut pierced through the crimson aurora and landed upon the cold stone surface.

Finally released from the white tail, Nia surveyed her surroundings with curiosity. Even without the mist, Bahamut’s mere presence interfered with her mana-location, yet she could still sense her surroundings to some extent. When she searched for presences and found none, her expression must have betrayed her thoughts, because the young man quickly spoke.

“The monsters here are afraid of Mother, so they probably already ran to the other side of the island.”

He gestured toward Bahamut with his thumb as he spoke, then brought both hands to the clasp fastening his overcoat and removed it.

Like a waterfall, long, fine strands of grayish-pink hair spilled down his back. His violet eyes—like twin polished amethysts—contrasted with the dark scarf-like tunic that protected his neck and shoulders. His black garments were layered with multiple straps and belts, tightly secured. Reinforced gloves covered his hands, leaving almost no skin exposed.

In appearance alone, the young man in his early twenties resembled any human Nia had ever encountered.

No—that wasn’t quite right.

The metamorph had been absolutely certain from the beginning that he was human.

Although she didn’t understand why a human called Bahamut “Mother,” Nia chose not to dwell on it. Instead, her attention was entirely captured by a single white fang hanging against his chest, fastened to a necklace around his neck.

“My name is Wisteria and… well, to be honest, I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say after that.”

He bowed slightly—then froze when he realized he had no idea what to do next. Scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, discomfort was plainly written across his face.

“Isn’t this the part where you talk about your hobbies and favorite foods?” Bahamut teased, crossing her arms as she watched him struggle through his introduction.

“You sound like some nosy old lady!” Wisteria shot back, turning toward her. “Besides, even if she looks around my age, she’s married and already has a daughter, right? There’s no way we’d have hobbies in common. She’s in a completely different category!”

At his words, Bahamut frowned—and in the next instant, her tail snapped around his ankles, lifting him clean off the ground.

“I’m more like a mother watching her son try to make his first friend than anything else,” she replied flatly. “And besides, Jelly seems like the type who’s missing a few screws when it comes to magic—just like you. So, you’re not that different. You might at least manage to hold a conversation without trying to kill each other.”

With a light flick of her fingers against her son’s forehead—one that sent a dense gust of wind rippling through the surroundings—Bahamut turned her gaze toward the violet-haired girl, who stared back at her with undisguised doubt.

“I have a name. It’s Gardenia. Why do you call me that?”

“You’re a metamorph, aren’t you?”

The question, delivered with complete casualness, made Nia’s eyes widen.

“A metamorph. Jelly. Fitting, don’t you think?”

Twirling her index finger in slow circles as if the logic were self-evident, the wheat-haired dragon woman began walking.

“How do you know that?” Nia hurried after her, agitation clear in her voice.

“When I saw you devouring Drelkos, I had a suspicion. But meeting you in person and catching your scent confirmed my theory. If I didn’t discard the absurd, the answer was actually quite simple.”

She had been there. In the elves’ forest. That day.

Eight years ago, the dragons’ hero had entered the forest and witnessed her battle against Twilight. And not only that—she had understood exactly what Nia was.

Since she began exploring the world, many had associated her spells with monsters. But aside from labyrinth guardians, no one had concluded that she was a metamorph.

And that wasn’t even the worst part. If Bahamut had identified her through Lily by scent alone, then other dragons might be able to do the same.

“Don’t worry, if that’s what’s bothering you.” Noticing the frightened look in the girl’s eyes, Bahamut spoke without turning fully toward her. “I’m probably the only dragon who would relate your scent to a monster. The others are too ignorant—or too proud—to concern themselves with distinguishing someone’s smell at that level.”

Leaping lightly across cracks in the terrain, Bahamut moved away from the island’s edge without hesitation, stepping over the glowing vegetation without a second thought.

Nia’s mind struggled to fully process the dragon hero’s words. But stopping to think meant being left behind, so she quickly followed.

Though she had spent nearly all her dark mana preparing [Cosmos Rupture], she had recovered her reserves during their flight. The oppressive atmosphere of the labyrinth didn’t trouble her now. Still, she knew that standing at full strength before that woman meant very little.

Careful not to lose sight of Bahamut, Nia analyzed her surroundings.

No natural geological phenomenon nor any spontaneous surge of mana could create a place like this. It was undeniably a labyrinth.

Was this where Bahamut had obtained her volume of the Book of Truth? Nia couldn’t tell—and she knew that if she asked, she wouldn’t receive an answer.

“This should be fine for now,” Bahamut remarked casually, stopping in a moderately sized clearing far from the towering pillars.

With a fluid motion, she landed at the center of the open space and released Wisteria onto the ground, then faced the metamorph who followed close behind.

“From now on, Jelly, you’ll call me teacher.” She declared it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Nia’s nearly expressionless face twisted ever so slightly, prompting Bahamut to frown.

“What’s with that look? Didn’t you say you wanted to become stronger? If I just handed you a new task without teaching you anything first, you’d never accomplish it. And that wouldn’t be any fun.”

Snorting, the dragon hero began pacing across the clearing as if it were suddenly her classroom.

“I have a few questions about how your innate ability works, but I think I understand the general idea. It’s not just the form of what you devour—you can absorb the innate ability too, can’t you?”

Not the magic a being learned over a lifetime, but the ability born alongside its existence.

With her innate skill, Nia could acquire the defining traits of any being she consumed.

Although she knew such a thing should be kept secret, given how far things had gone, Nia understood there was no point in trying to lie to the dragon woman.

“Yes.”

She gave a single nod, watching uneasily as Bahamut brought a hand to her chin—then slowly broke into a grin.

“Metamorphs regenerate by using their vitality to restore their bodies’ material. But what you did when I broke your wrist wasn’t that. Nor was it healing magic. It was your blood!” A loud laugh burst from her lips, sharp fangs revealed. “Hahaha! You ate Fafnir’s heart, didn’t you?”

Covering her face with her palm, Bahamut continued laughing—so loudly it seemed to echo across the entire island.

“I thought there might be a limit—a final ceiling to what could be devoured and acquired. But I was wrong. Since you absorbed the body part of a dragon that holds the greatest concentration of mana, your body is now producing dragon blood as well!”

Finally lowering her hand, Bahamut calmed herself and fixed her gaze on the violet-haired girl.

“Jelly, how much do you know about the sharing of innate abilities?”

The question wasn’t entirely outside Nia’s knowledge. Even if she disliked being called that, she chose to continue the conversation.

“Not much, honestly.”

She understood that abilities like precognition—the power to glimpse the future—had been granted to the high elves by Nerine. After bestowing it, the primordial fairy had lost access to that specific ability. However, other innate abilities—such as hearing the voice of fairies or the voice of all things—had been shared in a different way. Even after sharing them, Nerine still retained those powers.

Some innate abilities could be given away. Others could only be shared. But the one being who could teach her more about that subject was still dormant, making any deeper understanding unreachable.

“It’s not exactly a secret,” Bahamut continued, “but very few beings can share innate abilities. It requires a high level of study, and only the one who possesses the ability can perform the transfer. On top of that, many innate abilities simply cannot be shared—either because the owner cannot transfer them, or because the recipient cannot absorb them. So real cases are rare.”

Selene, the rabbit demi-human, could hear far better than most. But that was because of her long, furred ears. Even if there were a way for her to share her innate ability, she couldn’t lend someone her ears.

That thought alone made Nia’s expression darken. If such a thing were possible, prejudice and exploitation of demi-humans would grow even worse.

Humans, though advanced in magical study compared to other races, possessed no innate abilities of their own. If extracting such abilities from demi-humans were feasible, it wouldn’t take long for widespread hunts to begin—forcing them to master the technique merely to grant powers to whoever enslaved them.

As she reflected, a powerful fluctuation of mana in the air pulled her attention away.

Raising her index finger, Bahamut formed a dense layer of crystallized scales in the air just above its tip. The mass condensed rapidly, compressing into a small cone.

Watching the scales compress frantically, Nia intensified the barrier around herself, assuming the devastating attack was meant for her.

Yet Bahamut merely placed a hand on her hip, as if the destructive force forming above her finger were nothing at all, and let out a light sigh.

“Although I’m not from the Fang Clan, a dragon’s teeth are still a vital part of our constitution. By sharing a fragment of my essence within that fang, even if it can’t extract power equal to mine, something like this is still possible.”

She pointed her finger toward the pink-haired youth… and fired without hesitation.

Cutting through the air with such force that it triggered a sonic boom, the crystalline scale projectile shot straight toward Wisteria’s chest.

With both arms raised in panic, the boy instinctively shielded his vital organs. A crack like thunder exploded through the clearing—within a single instant, the crystal cone was deflected and hurled away.

Deprived of its target, the projectile slammed into one of the massive stone pillars. The impact roared like a minor earthquake, sending a thick cloud of dust into the air.

Crimson eyes widening, Nia stared at the boy’s arms. Emerging above the fabric of his long sleeves, small but unmistakable crystalline scales had formed midair.

“Wisteria can do things like that thanks to it,” Bahamut said casually. “Of course, I could have placed the essence directly inside him—but that requires an irritating level of control. Even I can’t be bothered with that.”

“Were you trying to kill me?!”

So startled that he had fallen onto the ground, Wisteria shouted at the top of his lungs toward the dragon woman.

Bahamut merely rolled her eyes at her son’s indignant cry and began walking toward Nia.

“Crystal scales aren’t technically parts of a dragon’s body. They’re constructs we build and maintain using mana. As an innate ability, I can share it. Because of that, this brat can create them for both defense and offense. It’s versatile enough to keep him alive, don’t you think?”

Though the display had undeniably been impressive, Nia knew that wasn’t the true reason Bahamut had brought her here.

“Why are you telling me all this?” she asked, unease rising within her.

“Pseudo-human morphism. The Wing Clan’s innate ability. And dragon blood.” Bahamut began listing them slowly, her fanged smile returning. “When you devoured Fafnir’s heart, I’d wager you obtained those three capabilities. And your body will adapt perfectly to reproducing them, won’t it?”

The air seemed to thicken, as if a cold pressure were beginning to swallow her whole.

“Stealing innate abilities…”

Her voice dropped into something deep—almost abyssal.

“Do you understand now how absurd that is?”

There was no dramatic gesture. No exaggerated emotion.

Yet every syllable Bahamut uttered carried such immense gravity that, for the first time, Nia swallowed dryly.

“The first is likely useless to you, since your nature as a metamorph already grants you something similar. But having unrestricted access to the other two… is surreal.”

She paused.

“No. It’s an absurdity.”

For the first time, there was no trace of playfulness in her tone. The dreadful calm of her words slithered like a serpent hunting fragile prey.

Nia felt those mismatched eyes burning into her, intense enough to scorch her skin.

“You are a literal, infinite amalgamation of abilities from multiple races. Natural predators? Individual weaknesses? There’s nothing you cannot eventually overcome.”

Her words were as cold as winter itself, merging with the crushing pressure the dragon hero released.

Yes.

A hero.

Standing before a monster.

“I have no idea how Elarielle—paranoid as she is—didn’t try to kill you the moment she had the chance.”

She did, Nia thought. But she knew better than to say that now.

After a long stretch of silence, Bahamut stepped back, her white tail swaying lazily behind her.

“Now, let’s move to the condition I’m going to establish.”

She glanced at the metamorph from the corner of her eye, reflecting briefly.

“Tell me, Jelly… how many times did you have to kill Fafnir before he finally fell?”

“Ten times,” Nia answered reluctantly.

Bringing a hand to her chin, Bahamut pondered for only a brief moment before turning back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“I see. In that case, we’ll do it this way. Simply ‘injuring’ me, like I originally proposed, would be far too boring. So I’ll adjust the rules a little.”

Nia had prepared herself to overcome any obstacle Bahamut might place before her.

Throughout the entire journey, her mind had tried to calculate what sort of trial the dragon woman would impose. Yet no calculation, instinct, or intuition she had ever possessed could have prepared her for the words that followed.

“Kill me with your own hands.”

Raising a single index finger, Bahamut stared at the violet-haired girl with a smile on her face.

“You have the next three days. Kill me just once. Do that, and you will have fulfilled my conditions.”