A thin mist lay over the island, catching the rising sun in strands of gold and rose. The wind carried the smell of salt and soil, and the rustle of trees swayed with soft birdsong.
But within the small stable Ryuuji had built beside the house—lined with straw, warmed with gentle magic—there was no peace.
There was panting. Growling. Whining. And then—at last—the sound of newborn life.
Yuki, the Crimson Wolf, lay curled with her mate Kaen close beside her, protective and alert. Between her front legs, four tiny pups wriggled and cried, still damp and clumsy in their first moments of life.
Ryuuji knelt nearby, gently holding Kiko in his arms. She had barely slept all night, anxiously watching over Yuki.
"She did it…" Kiko whispered in awe, eyes wide. "She really did it."
"She's strong," Ryuuji murmured back. "Just like her little ones will be."
The pups were small—barely larger than Ryuuji's palm—with tufts of reddish fur already marking them as true descendants of the legendary Crimson Wolves. One had a white stripe down its muzzle. Another had a curled tail. All of them whimpered and mewed, squirming toward their mother's warmth.
Yuki licked them gently, her golden eyes soft but tired. Kaen, for once, allowed Ryuuji to approach without a growl.
Ryuuji set down a fresh bowl of water, whispered a blessing, and smiled.
"Welcome to the world, little ones."
—
The rest of the morning passed in calm. Kiko made stew with extra carrots as a celebration meal. Ryuuji spent his time quietly carving a wooden wolf figure for each pup—he'd gift them when they were older. It was one of his favorite traditions from Earth: commemorating life's quiet victories with something handmade.
But as the sun climbed higher, something stirred in the sky.
Ryuuji felt it before he saw it. A vibration—not of sound, but of power. An ancient rhythm his body remembered, like the echo of thunder across a calm lake.
He stepped outside, shielding his eyes.
A shape emerged from the clouds. Wings the color of midnight. Scales that shimmered with silver and cobalt. Eyes like twin comets—piercing, proud, eternal.
The Dragon Queen had returned.
"Elysia," Ryuuji breathed.
She landed with grace that belied her size, shrinking mid-descent in a soft shimmer of light until her form became that of a tall, elegant woman. Her long white-blue hair flowed behind her like river mist, and her horns curved back from her temples like a crown of onyx flame.
She looked exactly the same as the last time he saw her… except now, she looked heartbroken and relieved all at once.
"You idiot," she said softly, striding forward. "You disappeared without a word."
Ryuuji chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. "I thought it was better that way."
"For who?" she whispered. "Certainly not for me."
There was silence between them—years of it. All the battles fought side by side, the wounds bandaged in quiet corners, the moments when words were never needed… and then, the war ended.
And he vanished.
"I didn't know you'd come," he admitted.
"I always knew where you were," she replied, stepping close. "I just wanted to see if you'd invite me."
Kiko peeked out from behind the door, blinking at the visitor. "Papa? Who's that?"
Ryuuji turned. "Kiko, this is Elysia. She's… an old friend."
Elysia looked down and smiled softly. "And who are you, little one?"
Kiko puffed her chest. "I'm Kiko! Papa's daughter!"
That gave Elysia pause—but she knelt anyway. "You're very brave, Kiko."
"Thank you! I help Papa with spells and stuff! And I talk to the wolves!"
Elysia looked up at Ryuuji with a knowing smirk. "You've been busy."
He shrugged. "Life just… happened."
—
They sat by the cliff that evening, the ocean stretched out like liquid sapphire below them. Kiko played nearby with the baby wolves, her laughter blending with the crash of waves.
Ryuuji finally asked what had been weighing on him. "What happens now? You're still the Dragon Queen, aren't you?"
Elysia looked toward the horizon. "I am. But our customs are different from humans. The dragon lands are wherever the ruler chooses to dwell. My kin are loyal to me, not to a fixed piece of land."
He blinked. "Wait, you mean—"
"I've already sent word," she said. "They'll begin migration soon."
Ryuuji stared at her. "You're bringing the Dragon Kingdom here?"
"This island is perfect. Untamed, rich in mana, full of ancient trees. Dangerous, yes—but that suits us. And…" she looked at him. "It has you."
He rubbed his face. "I'm just a farmer now."
"You're my farmer now," she said, almost smugly. "If you'll have me."
He turned to look at her fully then. There was no demand in her eyes. Just deep trust. Hope. Maybe even something as gentle as longing.
Ryuuji sighed, then grinned. "Fine. But only if you help pull weeds."
Elysia smiled. "I've slain gods. I think I can handle weeds."
"Then it's settled."
And like that—without pomp or crown or throne—they became husband and wife. The Dragon Queen and the Demon-Slaying Farmer. No ceremony, no audience. Just two weary souls, choosing peace.
—
The migration began weeks later.
Ryuuji watched from a ridge as massive dragon silhouettes filled the skies. Dozens of them, big and small. Some shimmered with silver, others bore hues of green, crimson, or violet. A few flew in flocks, while the oldest traveled alone.
They circled once, twice, then descended upon the northern edge of the island—far beyond the hills.
The dragons respected Elysia's command: no construction, no interference, within ten kilometers of Ryuuji's house. That radius became a sacred zone—untouched and quiet, a sanctuary for Ryuuji's humble life.
Around it, though, the island began to change.
Dragons restored ancient ruins, planted new forests, built great halls from obsidian and crystal. They warded the nearby sea, creating magical boundaries that cloaked the island from outsiders. The surrounding smaller islands were claimed and guarded, forming a natural buffer against any kingdom foolish enough to intrude.
But within the heart of it all, Ryuuji's world remained the same.
He still harvested tomatoes. He still taught Kiko how to sweep magically. He still whispered to Yuki and Kaen, now proud parents of four sleepy pups.
Only now, Elysia helped.
She washed dishes with spells so precise, even Ryuuji was impressed. She cooked surprisingly good fish stew. She read bedtime stories to Kiko—epics of ancient dragons and lost stars.
And when night came, she sat beside Ryuuji, watching the stars as they always used to.
"You're really not going back?" he asked one night.
She rested her head on his shoulder. "Why would I? The only home I've ever wanted is here."
Ryuuji held her hand, silent for a while. "Me too."
—
And so, the island thrived.
Not as a kingdom of war, but as a cradle of peace.
A place where a sword lay untouched above a hearth.
Where wolves howled not in hunger, but in celebration.
Where a little demon girl learned magic with joy instead of fear.
Where a farmer who had once saved the world planted seeds again—not of war, but of hope.
Of Kiko.
Of love.
Of dragons who chose peace over pride.
And Ryuuji, the man who had once fought demons and darkness, found something far more dangerous:
Contentment.
But the world beyond still turned.
And someday, its shadow would fall again.
But for now?
Let the weeds grow a little. Let the wolves nap. Let the dragons settle.
There was time for everything.
And Ryuuji… had earned this.