REFDL 31

Kaelus and Tortan were childhood friends.

People assumed Kaelus’s choice during the civil war was naturally due to that relationship.

Of course, that was one reason.

But it wasn’t the main one.

“…….”

The Second Prince advocated war against Denos. He dreamed of uniting the two lands to become emperor of a great empire.

The problem was, it wasn’t entirely a pipe dream.

Possibility.

That was the seed of tragedy.

Many were beguiled. Nobles, especially, were blinded by the wealth the ‘colonies’ the Second Prince spoke of promised.

Kaelus was indifferent then, as he is now.

Even if war broke out, he’d likely have thought something like, ‘Is it time to go to war? How many years until it ends?’

But the people dear to him fiercely opposed the war.

They loved Firmus and wished for tomorrow to be as ordinary as today, with nothing out of the ordinary.

Therefore, Kaelus sided with the Third Prince.

And.

Grrr.

Grrrr!

‘What was it you said? Ah, that the humans you cherish love Firmus too much to stand by my side? Hahahaha. Honestly, it’s ridiculous. How dare those worthless things discuss Firmus in front of me? In front of me, who has devoted everything to Firmus!’

Smack.

Crack!

It was merciless violence. Bodies were crushed and shattered, if it didn’t matter if they died. The blows were cruel.

Indeed, several people died.

Where it should have been flat, it was deeply sunken.

Bones.

Organs.

Things that should never have been seen spilled out.

Blood flowed like water.

The blood-soaked Second Prince gasped for breath. Filled with madness, he approached with bloodshot eyes.

He thrust his face right up to Kaelus’s nose.

‘I won’t kill you.’

‘…….’

‘Of course. I absolutely cannot kill you! I’ll let you survive unscathed, Duke. Survive so you can keep watching.’

Firmus, where nothing that belonged to you remains!

‘I’ll make you feel this very sensation of rotting away while still alive!’

The Second Prince was not a dark mage.

But every word he spoke became a curse.

Because they weren’t real curses, there was no way to break them.

“…….”

Kaelus buried his face in his hands.

The nightmare.

Hadn’t ended.

* * *

The birthday celebration was just around the corner.

When rumors reached my ears that a grand festival would be held in the capital to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday.

I was pouring strong liquor into Nitan’s mouth.

“Kekekeke!”

“……?”

[Drink!]

“Uh…  Gulp gulp gulp……”

[Drink!]

That’s right.

This was the last resort I had in mind to uncover Kaelus’s past.

Beat it out of someone who might know.

…But I swear I never intended to go this far!

* * *

It had been nearly five months since I left the cliff.

I had become a sub-adult dragon.

Some time ago, with Nitan’s active support, I began serious training to become a dragon knight.

Training lasted about an hour a day.

Each time, I visited the Dragon Knight Order building (complete with lodgings and training grounds) separately.

However, due to matters concerning Richmond, and the judgment that cohabitation with other dragons was still impossible, the other dragons either placed in the dragon pen during my visits or use a training ground far away.

The training went smoothly.

Kaelus had issued a no-access order to the Dragon Knights, citing it might provoke me.

But at some point, people started sneaking into the training grounds. Recently, they’ve been openly taking spots, cheering, or waving.

Wait

An idea occurred to me.

If they’re that friendly toward me…

Couldn’t I use that?

While Nitan was briefly away dealing with a bathroom issue, I quickly flew over and took a spot in front of them.

“Oh. Wow!”

“Ah, um, can I touch your belly?!”

You can.

“Oh!”

But I had a request.

“Oh?”

I phrased it indirectly: ‘There’s something I want to hear from Nitan, but he always beats around the bush.’ And then…

“Ah, hmm. There’s a slightly unethical, trashy method. Would that be alright? ”

[…….]

Just say it already.

Then the knights gathered among themselves, whispering and scheming like they were plotting something. As soon as they shrank down to head back to the mansion after training, they grabbed me and Nitan under their arms and ran straight to the tavern.

“You crazy bastards?!”

“Come on. Let’s have a nice, cold drink!”

“What, what! Gulp! Gulp! Gulp… gulp gulp gulp…”

Wait. Hold on.

Gulp… gulp.

“Okay. Two beers down!”

“Everyone, you’ve worked hard!”

“Well, we’ll be off now!”

“Have a good time! Lord Dragon!”

When I came to my senses, I was left alone in a private room of a high-end tavern with Nitan, who was swaying drunkenly.

[…….]

My head was spinning.

No!

I told you to explain it, but did I ask you to provide direct execution service?!

I banged my forehead with my front paw, but it was already too late.

The deed was done.

Well then.

Wouldn’t it be a waste to pass this up?

Though I’d grown closer to Kaelus than before, the restlessness from still not crossing that ‘line’ pushed me forward.

I quietly lowered the paw that had been rubbing my forehead. I looked at Nitan. His eyes were unfocused.

[…….]

Well, I wasn’t asking for his entire life story.

I wasn’t that inconsiderate.

Anyone could tell it wasn’t an ordinary story.

So I’d wait until Kaelus told me himself. All I wanted was a hint.

……Just.

How could I make Kaelus, who hates dragons, dislike me less? What could I do to get him to let me cross that damn ‘line’?

…… Like how to develop a better relationship than we have now.

And then Nitan went off the rails.

“It was five years ago. Right after the Monster Wave ended, when the Captain was exhausted, both physically and mentally! Even after the civil war officially ended and His Majesty Tortan ascended the throne, that Second Prince bastard, who’d been running like a cockroach for two more years, lured the Captain and kidnapped him!”

……Huh?

“He kidnapped the Captain’s precious people and held them hostage. Friends. Family. Beloved subordinates. They were all murdered right before the Captain’s eyes. No. They were devoured. By a Pensilta, the one Captain had cherished and raised for eight years since it hatched.”

……Cold sweat trickled down my back.

Wait, just a moment.

Stop!

Kyak!

I flapped my wings and rushed forward. In my panic, I bumped into a bottle of liquor and toppled onto the table. Nitan cheerfully continued speaking while I put on my one-man show.

“Ryumil… ah, Ryumil was the name of the captain’s Pensilta… it was special. Not quite as special as Lord Yuram, of course! Should I say it resembled something undragonlike? It was incredibly gentle. And clever too. Watching it, you’d naturally think, ‘Ah, this one has a heart and feelings.’ Especially its love for the Captain felt profoundly heartfelt.”

[…….]

It felt like a blunt awl piercing my chest.

What the hell is this? Why do I feel like this?

Hesitating over this untimely question was a mistake. The drunkard, having missed my chance to stop him, kept babbling on.

“So the Captain agonized over it and decided not to take Ryumil’s vessel. He took full responsibility upon himself. But then…”

[…….]

“The Second Prince. That bastard starved Ryumil. As a dragon, you’d know this well. Dragons have an unbelievably high basal metabolic rate, right? They get gaunt if they miss just one proper meal. Needless to say, they become violent in that state! ……Ryumil went without food for four days. By Pensilta standards, that’s starving to the brink of death. But I don’t think the Captain ever imagined it would brutally devour people it had known. He trusted it. He trusted Ryumil.”

[…….]

There was no vessel artifact.

Kaelus couldn’t force orders on his dragon.

A horrific, agonizing scene flashed through my mind. I felt nauseated. I gagged and vomited thin, watery stomach acid onto the table.

I staggered sideways and collapsed. I closed my eyes.

I’m screwed.

I’d always considered him a fast talker, but after drinking, Nitan was like a rapper.

“You know those tattoos on the Captain’s neck and wrists? He has tattoos one on his ankles too. Because that crazy Second Prince wrapped thin iron wires around the Captain’s neck, wrists, and ankles, fixed him to a frame, and forced him to watch that scene. ……Huh. Did I already say this?”

Enough.

“Anyway, that left scars. But because he kept scratching them with his fingernails, new scars formed over the old ones and stuff like that. He didn’t look in mirrors much either. Because he could see the marks from the chains. But since he couldn’t avoid seeing them in windows and such, he got tattoos over them. ……At first, he scratched so hard he drew blood over the tattoo too, and everyone was really worried. But time heals all wounds. After about five years, he did get much better.”

I covered my head with my forepaws in despair.

This was absolutely not a story meant to be heard through someone else’s mouth.

Even if it wasn’t intentional, I’m already a criminal who contributed significantly to this situation.