REFDL 54

“We cannot overcome this Monster Wave using the same method as before.”

The previous method meant that the Pensilta dragons hunted 70% of the monsters, while the subjugation force hunted the remaining 30% that were either injured or barely clinging to life.

“Since the Monster Wave has changed, our strategy must change too. The moment has come for the subjugation force to do their part. It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. ……So, shouldn’t we also do everything we possibly can?”

Before battle, the soldiers’ morale was paramount. Kaelus knew what was the rational and proper decision.

“……”

Nitan believed he was rejecting the Kremlis due to his loathing and aversion towards dragons, but that wasn’t actually the case.

‘That is part of it.’

Another reason outweighed that one.

He sensed it. This was a turning point.

The moment he mounted the Kremlis’s back. Many things would change.

So many things.

“……”

Kaelus pondered for a very long time and made his decision.

Grrrr!

The Kremlis, with the saddle secured to his back, growled and took to the sky. 

The Pensiltas responded in unison, pounding the ground. Dragons simultaneously embroidered the sky.

The Anax army sighed.

Originally, it was like ‘human knights riding their partner dragons,’ but now it felt like ‘dragon knights led by a dragon commander.’

The reason was undoubtedly the Kremlis, flaunting his different scale and majesty at the very front.

“……It feels like catching a glimpse of the mythic age.”

Someone muttered.

All who heard it silently agreed.

The city gates opened.

The subjugation force, their morale piercing the heavens, advanced forward.

Half of them had, until just moments ago, been trembling, wailing, and cursing the gods.

These were the ones who believed they would become the monsters’ food.

But now, among those gripping spears and sheathing swords, none predicted defeat.

The legendary dragon that had single-handedly driven out the monsters flew overhead.

A colossal shadow covered the subjugation force. His width dwarfed harpies or bat monsters. Shadows fell as if a vast cloth had obscured the sky.

Whenever a weed-like fear began to grow within the soldiers, or the urge to flee back to the fortress surfaced, they lifted their heads.

Upon the back of the immense, majestic dragon sat the knight they most admired and respected.

Unshakable.

Everyone was certain.

Kaelus would never fall again.

Steady footsteps moved forward.

It was time for the counterattack.

* * *

The campaign proceeded smoothly.

As if compensating for previous misfortune, the weather was sunny day after day.

No snow fell.

The snow already piled up was crushed under the corpses of monsters and melted in their blood, turning the ground red.

It was muddy, but still firm enough to stand on.

Day after day, the subjugation force pushed the monsters north. And further north.

Their numbers steadily dwindled.

The end of the Monster Wave was within sight.

“Ha! This hell will soon be over!”

“When those damned bastards besieged Anax Fortress, I thought it was all over…”

“It’s all thanks to Lord Julan returning!”

Someone led the chant.

“Glory of the West, Firmus!”

“Eternal Julan!”

“……That’s what they’re saying.”

…Whoever it was, I’ll sue them for spreading false information.

[I’m not Julan.]

“I know.”

Nitan’s expression said ‘that’s not important,’ but he phrased it as diplomatically as possible.

“But rumors like these spread especially fast and take deep root. Especially since they’re the kind of thing people want to believe.”

[…….]

“You should have used your breath a little less.”

Nitan looked at me with a hint of pity.

[You think I used my breath for fun?!]

“No. You did it so fewer people would die and get hurt.”

……If you put it like that, I have no comeback.

“I know. You need to be more aware of your position, Lord Yuram. Your life isn’t just your own. While you belong to the Dragon Knights, as a Kremlis, you’re not just an ordinary partner dragon.”

I rolled my eyes.

It was nagging disguised as pity.

Currently, I’m under a breath restriction order.

The reason was simple.

To reduce early damage, I overused my breath more than necessary. I ignored the sore throat-like pain and kept doing it until one day, after returning, I coughed up blood.

People naturally went into a frenzy.

Not only dragon-specialized healers, but even human healers (?) were assigned to examine my condition. The result was simply a minor burn on my throat.

But I had to endure a barrage of nagging disguised as concern from many people.

Especially the oldest and most experienced man among the dragon healers clicked his tongue disapprovingly right in front of me.

“Well, as a dragon yourself, you should know this well, but dragons vary immensely across species, their physical structure, internal organs, diet, habits, vulnerabilities, and everything else. That’s why even the most specialized healers only get certified for two species at most. For reference, my specialties are Pensilta and Azura. This is the first time I’ve ever seen a Kremlis dragon. Right now, the wound is obvious it’s not a major issue… but it means there’s a chance of misdiagnosis if something serious ever happens.”

“……”

“Or perhaps Lord Yuram intends to personally contribute to the advancement of dragon medicine? If so, I’d be happy to step forward and learn. If we were to create a new certification entirely from scratch, the specimen would need to be…”

His terrifying gaze swept over me from head to toe, and I could only stammer out, “I’ll be careful.”

Fortunately, the monsters were defeated without me needing to unleash my breath attack.

People rejoiced, but Kaelus frowned.

He looked like something felt very wrong.

My impression was similar to Kaelus’. The monsters felt strangely weak and listless.

When did this start?

…Ever since I rescued Kaelus and drove out the ones who had besieged Anax Fortress.

[……]

More precisely, it was after that day I dreamed of becoming the dead dragon.

In the end, I couldn’t say it.

There’s a limit to self-absorption.

Then I pushed it out of my mind.

It wasn’t a big deal.

* * *

Wooooah!!

Waaahhh!!

Finally.

The subjugation force ended the Monster Wave, slaying an immense number of monsters.

They’d have to tally it later, but they said it was nearly double the scale of the previous cycle.

“Considering the number of large-species monsters, including giants and griffins, the physical force was probably close to four times greater. Honestly, I doubt we could have held them back without Lord Yuram.”

Nitan shook his head, his face pale. You see what you know. His expression betrayed his nervousness.

The people of Anax, setting aside their immediate grief, set to work slaughtering the monsters and recovering the magic stones.

The season was now deep winter.

From the moment they died, monsters became precious resources and a means of income for humans. The magic stones, serving as the power source for all artifacts, were especially valuable.

‘The cycle of Monster Waves is consistent.’

That is, every Monster Wave occurred in winter.

‘In the distant past, when they had to fight both winter and monsters, the casualties were staggering…’

Humans adapt. No matter how unreasonable or cruel the reality.

And time passed, bringing the present.

The harsh winter actually increased the share humans could gain.

It was the just reward earned by overcoming adversity.

* * *

Wahaha!

Uwahahaha!

For the first time in ages, the laughter of soldiers echoed through Anax Fortress.

From broad daylight, they raised their drinking cups high and danced to the clumsy tunes of crude instruments.

They stamped their feet and clapped their hands.

While some mourned the deaths of friends, comrades, and kin, most reveled in the joy of victory.

Even in Anax, with its centuries-long history of struggle, this battle was special.

They had survived a battlefield where the aura of death was pervasive.

Among the drunken soldiers, a red wall lay prostrate. The dragon watched their actions with interest.

He seemed particularly fascinated by the crude-looking instrument.

It was an instrument called a ‘tyurel,’ resembling a mini-guitar, producing sound by plucking its strings with a pick made from freshwater clamshell.

The reptile’s pupils suddenly contracted.

His gaze, fixed on the tyurel, had shifted to the sparkling pick. Even contracted, his enormous pupils rolled this way and that.

The player’s missed notes increased rapidly.

Am I imagining it? I have to be imagining it.

Grrrrr.

This is insane. No, it’s not.

‘Hnng!’

The player broke out in a cold sweat.

The moment he stopped playing, it felt like the great Lord Kremlis would charge at him.

He was a man who’d never won a lottery draw, who always picked the wrong path at forks in the road, but he could bet his left testicle this premonition wouldn’t be wrong.