The girl had always thought of herself as someone who belonged in the margins.

After all, she had never received any form of love in her life; she was fated to wander along a lonely path, drifting aimlessly.

Perhaps she was merely a vessel meant to hold sadness.

---

"Don’t call me ‘Mom.’ It’s disgusting. You ruined my life…! Get lost! Stop being a nuisance!"

Her mother would cry every time as she hurled abuse at the girl.

Cornered in a tight space, feeling the impact of her mother’s kicks, Regia slowly began to understand her world.

There had never been a place for her to call home from the very start.

---

"I... I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to. Please… don’t cry."

Was it because of her naturally gentle disposition?

Even as she watched her mother cry, she could only feel remorse, as if she were the one to blame, repeating "I’m sorry" over and over.

And so, the protagonist of this tale grew up in this bleak environment.

As time went on, Regia diminished.

She lost her once-innocent self and became someone who struggled even with basic communication—a voiceless child, a product of the cruelty of adults.

---

"Why…?"

As she grew older, Regia’s mother died in an accident.

She had been staggering down the street in a drunken stupor when she was struck by a carriage.

It was a death as meaningless as her life had been.

With no father in the picture, the girl was left an orphan overnight.

Regia had to leave the slums if she wanted to survive.

---

"Wh-where should I go…?"

She walked aimlessly.

Perhaps because of her traumatic childhood, she became terrified of people.

Even as she journeyed across the continent, she chose paths with as few people as possible, running away from anything that threatened to break her shell.

For her, loneliness was an unbreakable law, an absolute truth.

She often shed tears while walking under the cold night sky, feeling like an eternal outsider.

In those moments, she thought to herself that maybe the things her mother had said were true.

---

"A useless girl like you… never should’ve been born."

Those words still gripped her heart.

It was as if her very existence had been denied by the one who created her.

The protagonist’s sadness grew deeper—an endless cycle of sorrow, doubt, and loneliness.

She tried to shut herself off from the world, but one day, an umbrella that someone held over her head caught her sleeve.

A gentle voice spoke.

---

"There you are, Miss Regia."

A boy with striking blonde hair and narrow eyes.

For the first time, someone stepped into her lonely world.

Since then, the snake stayed by her side, a constant presence.

When she was sad, he would pat her back; when she was happy, he clapped with her; and when she was tired, he would gently stroke her hair.

He brought her an endless warmth.

---

"We’re friends, after all."

The boy never asked anything of her.

He simply helped her over and over.

A selfless dedication.

Slowly, her winter began to melt.

---

"You’ll surely succeed, I know it. You, Miss Regia, will become the brightest star."

But why?

Why would someone as amazing as him care for someone as insignificant as her?

Why did he always look at her with such warmth in his eyes?

---

"That’s a secret."

When she asked him, all she received in return was a playful smile.

In that smile, she felt both frustration and a strange comfort, as if this was simply who he was.

---

"I… want to help you too."

She wanted to protect him.

To repay his unreserved trust, his expectations, and his loyalty.

She didn’t want to let go of the first light she had ever found.

---

Thump, thump.

Her heart pounded rapidly.

The gentle pulse seeped into her.

She opened her eyes.

---

"…"

In the still dawn, thousands of scorpions bared their teeth in front of her.

It was a horrifying sight.

---

Kreeee! Skrrr! Kuwahhh!!

The monsters were close enough to reach out and touch.

Normally, Regia would have burst into tears at the sight, but this time, her eyes were calm and bright.

A morning star twinkled in her clear pupils.

---

"This feels strange."

The world moved in slow motion, as if time itself had stopped.

Simultaneously, a tingling sensation filled her.

A faint light lingered on her fingertips, and a warm energy rose from her chest.

What melted the fear that had held her frozen was a feeling she had never felt before: courage.

For the first time, her body did not tremble.

---

"When you’re afraid, take my hand. I won’t ever let go of you, Miss Regia."

The soft voice echoed in her ears.

Looking down, she saw the boy’s hand gently holding hers.

A powerful sense of fulfillment surged through her.

---

"I think I can do it."

The girl focused her mind.

The towering wall in her heart, the one that had let her down so many times—she felt that now she could finally overcome it.

Regia tightened her grip on his hand.

---

"I’m not afraid."

She whispered it to herself, as if casting a spell.

She savored the warmth in the palm of her hand.

If she could survive this pitch-black dawn, she wanted to feel that hand on her head again.

With that small, foolish wish, she whispered.

---

"Lend me your strength."

It was a call, beckoning the creature that had been awaiting the protagonist’s awakening.

Calmly, Regia spoke the name.

---

"Efri."

At that moment, a brilliant flash covered the land.

A blazing light illuminated the black night sky.

The silhouette that appeared amid the glorious glow was none other than a magnificent pair of wings unfurling.

A powerful roar resounded.

---

Kuuooohhh!!

Efri soared boldly across the sky.

Only then did Regia release the tears she had been holding back.

They poured freely.

---

"Miss Regia."

As her body weakened, someone caught her.

Blinking slowly, she saw the familiar blond boy in her vision.

A sense of relief washed over her.

She murmured, catching her breath.

---

"Fi-finally… it’s done."

She had crossed the wall at last.

---

The protagonist’s unexpected awakening caught everyone off guard.

With the Wyvern’s arrival, the tide of the battle shifted almost immediately.

---

Kraaahhh!!

With a single breath, the entire area was engulfed in flames.

The scorpions that had covered the golden desert were utterly swept away by the blaze.

It was an overwhelming sight.

---

The darkened dawn was fully reclaimed by the radiant light.

The gigantic maw of the creature poured out flames, leaving not a trace of despair behind.

The waves of monsters turned to ashes in an instant.

---

Not a single ember landed on our side.

It demonstrated not only immense power but also precise control, showcasing why it was considered the strongest summoned creature.

---

"Amazing."

I murmured in awe.

The brilliant light bathed everything, leaving me transfixed.

So summoned creatures could be this powerful.

I had only vaguely imagined it, but seeing it firsthand was astonishing.

In just ten minutes, the Wyvern had decimated all the scorpions crawling through the desert, as if it were nothing more than a drill smashing through an anthill.

---

Well, every creature has its own level of power.

Regia’s summoned creature, [Efri], far exceeded the norm.

Even the original Yuda had described its flames as dangerous.

---

Of course, in a single snap, I could make it disappear if I wanted.

I brushed aside the stray thoughts as I stood silently.

Regia stirred slightly in my arms.

---

"Young Master… what’s happening?"

"It’s almost over."

Her green eyes were unfocused, consciousness barely holding.

With her head against my chest, she clung to me, her breathing now steady.

---

"I did it. I… was so scared, but I managed."

"You did well, Miss Regia."

"I wanted to help you, just once."

"Thanks to you, we’re all safe."

"Hehe… Could you keep patting my head a little longer?"

I gently stroked her hair.

Regia melted into the soft touch, her lips curved into a pure smile, as if this moment was everything.

---

"Hoho."

As I savored this rare moment with the protagonist, someone approached us.

An elderly man holding a broken crossbow.

---

"Young ones."

"Elder."

"Who would have thought I’d live to see your faces again."

"It’s nothing short of a miracle."

"I thought this was truly the end."

The old man chuckled softly, his aged eyes staring silently at the brightening horizon.

The morning was finally arriving over the desert.

---

"I didn’t think I’d live to see another dawn… Life is strange indeed."

The desert slowly brightened.

The final assault had drawn to an end.

Efri stomped over the last scorpions, making his way toward us, likely to check on his master.

As it seemed everything was winding down—

---

"Hack! Cough!"

Suddenly, the old man beside us doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Gripping his chest, he spat dark blood onto the ground.

Although it was a familiar sight, he looked far worse than usual this time.

---

"Are you alright?"

"Don’t worry about me, child."

The old man waved his hand, wiping blood from his lips before smiling brightly.

His voice was steady, unwavering.

---

"Our destination is just ahead."

---

With the dawn marking the end of the battle

, we resumed our journey by noon.

The final wave had lasted all night.

We moved forward with the setting sun at our backs.

---

Step, step.

Footprints trailed behind us in the sand.

The Snake, the guide, and the elder… the three of us made our way to the final destination.

Yet the coughing wouldn’t stop.

---

"Ugh! Cough, cough!"

"Elder!"

The old man’s condition continued to worsen, blood pouring from his mouth each time.

But there was nothing we could do except support him as he stumbled forward.

Despite looking almost corpse-like, he wore a cheerful smile, as if eagerly anticipating a reunion.

---

"When I was young… I’d play with Rosaline on the hill…"

The elder began recounting tales from his past, mostly about a girl.

Though he had lived sixty-five years, the only memories he cherished were those first fifteen years in his homeland.

We listened quietly to his memories.

---

"When we tried cooking, the kitchen would always be a mess."

They were wholesome memories.

Together, we read books, learned clumsy magic, and watched them play in the forest.

Lying side by side on the village’s highest hill, counting stars in the night sky.

It was all he loved about his life.

---

"My parents always watched us…"

We had no time to be bored.

As we ventured deeper into the desert, nearing our destination, the surroundings started to change strangely.

It took us a while to notice.

---

"What… is this?"

"Hmm."

At first, there were just some strange fragments scattered on the ground.

As Regia had mentioned before, remnants of buildings lay half-buried in the sand.

But the scenery soon became more blatant.

---

A church cross jutting from the ground.

Half-destroyed windmills standing silently.

Buildings that seemed as if people once lived in them.

---

"…"

We were no longer in the desert.

Instead, we walked through a desolate city swallowed by sand.

As we traversed the ruins, Regia, hesitantly watching our surroundings, spoke up.

---

"Young Master… are we going the right way?"

"The elder knows the way."

"This doesn’t feel like a normal desert. It’s as if people once lived here."

"It is strange. What could have happened to make it look like this?"

"I… I’m a little scared."

Our conversation lowered to whispers.

The elder had been silent for a while, leading us onward without a word.

Occasionally, he glanced around, startled, but only for a moment.

With lingering doubts, we followed him.

---

By now, it was night again.

The stars drifted slowly toward dawn.

As we rubbed our tired eyes and took cautious steps along the darkened street, the elder finally stopped.

---

"…"

We had arrived.

Standing on a sand-covered hill outside the village, Regia turned to the elder.

---

"Elder?"

"…"

"Are you hurt again? If you’re feeling unwell, we could take a rest."

"…"

"E-Elder…?"

There was no answer.

Confused, she looked at him questioningly.

After a pause, he finally spoke.

---

"We’ve arrived."

"Huh?"

Regia blinked at his sudden words.

Without further explanation, the elder pointed to something in front of him.

A single tombstone lay quietly there.

Worn by time, partly covered in sand, yet intact.

We stared blankly at the words etched upon it.

And then—

---

"[Here Lies Rosaline Meriar.]"

In shock, we turned back to the elder.

---

"You all look surprised."

With a bittersweet smile, he gently ran his fingers over the tombstone, as if he’d known all along.

In a calm, aged voice, he said,

---

"Let me tell you what happened in this desert."

His clear eyes glowed softly in the darkness.