Golden sunlight rose from the distant horizon, passing through the forest and falling upon Richard’s weary face.
He had been busy all night.
More exhausting than raiding the Larrifa Manor was the effort required to calm the rescued families.
The original plan had been to rescue the families of two assassins—no more than ten people according to the intelligence reports.
But once the others began pleading for help, Richard couldn’t bring himself to refuse.
One led to two, then three, then four… Eventually, he realized that the people living at Larrifa Manor were treated almost like half-slaves.
He wasn’t sure if the Brotherhood would even be able to take in so many people.
According to the plan, they would retreat into the forest for now.
Though dangerous, at least it wasn’t imperial territory, and the Wilderness Runners would surely come to assist in resettling the refugees.
By the time everything was settled, the sun had already climbed high.
Compared to the fatigue of handling the families—and the concern that such a “covert rescue” might destabilize the current order—what troubled Richard more was the sword hilt before his eyes.
That hilt still carried a fragment of the blade, its edge melted by terrifying flames of unbearable heat.
Even so, faint magical glimmers lingered across the fractured steel.
In the center of the crossguard was a diamond-shaped gem, once pure white.
But after he used it to slay the Dread Dragon, it had turned crimson—its core burning like the dragon’s dying rage.
The sword had cracked apart during the Dread Dragon’s self-immolation—that final, unbearable blow that broke everything.
He had hoped it could be repaired, but when he returned it to the Emperor of the Yanting Empire, the emperor had declared it completely beyond restoration.
Then, to add insult to injury, the emperor accused him of destroying a priceless holy relic—the Dragon-Slaying Sword—and demanded compensation.
Worse still, the princess had perished in the Dread Dragon’s lair.
Driven by guilt and a sense of responsibility, Richard signed the agreement, taking on a debt of fifty thousand gold coins.
The commander of the Knights’ Order had praised him for his honor—for abiding by law and faith rather than hiding behind power.
But now, looking at the sword hilt again, Richard could see it was in far better condition than when he had surrendered it. The emperor’s claim that it was beyond repair had been a lie.
If this was all a deception, he thought bitterly, then my “honor” has made me the fool.
The clinking of chainmail approached from behind. Richard turned his head, already knowing who it was—Sophia.
He was about to bring up the matter of the sword when she suddenly asked, “Richard… am I useless?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Last night, I didn’t help at all,” she said. “The only thing I did right was act as a stepping stone for Aurina to knock down that sorcerer. I even tried calling down the Lord’s Wrath, but by the time I did, Aurina’s fire had already burned them to ash. And I… I burned Aurina’s tail by accident.”
Last night, in her eagerness to contribute, Sophia had cast Divine Wrath, her most powerful area spell. It targeted all creatures aligned with evil.
Unfortunately, she had forgotten that Aurina—a reborn red dragon—was, in fact, wholly evil.
When the divine flames descended, Aurina’s tail had been scorched, making her shriek and thrash wildly to extinguish the fire.
She’d grumbled about it all night—unharmed by the enemy, yet wounded by her ally.
“No, you’re invaluable,” Richard assured her. “Your blessings helped us all.”
Sophia gave a wan smile under the morning sun. “A single silver coin could buy a blessing potion at the temple.”
“Not the same,” Richard replied.
“Last night’s battle was easy, but imagine if something had gone wrong—if Aurina or I had been paralyzed, or blinded by a curse. You’re our safety net, Sophia. You hold the line when everything else falls apart.”
But Sophia still wasn’t convinced. She went on about her uselessness until, twenty minutes later, she finally left with a tired smile.
As soon as her back turned, Richard’s forced grin melted into a weary sigh.
CLANG!
The sound struck inside his mind—a sound he knew all too well.
It meant one thing: a certain dragon had just broken her “no stealing” vow again.
Richard spun instinctively, guided by divine intuition, just in time to spot Aurina—her red hair gleaming—slithering through the grass like a serpent toward the hilt of the Dragon-Slaying Sword.
Richard grabbed it first.
Aurina missed, sliding face-first across the grass.
Without a hint of shame, she propped herself up on one elbow, tail flicking lazily, and said, “Lovely weather today, isn’t it?”
“It’d be lovelier if you weren’t trying to steal.”
“Geh-heh-heh! As expected of the strongest little bug! To see through my glorious stealth in one glance—who else could manage that?”
She brushed her red bangs behind her ear.
“You don’t feel even a bit of shame for failing to steal?”
“Steal? I don’t steal. Only weak dragons steal. I prefer to take.”
“Then why didn’t you take it?”
“You should be honored,” Aurina said, sitting cross-legged and tapping her toes together. “Because you’re strong. Against you, it’s not taking—it’s robbing!”
Richard chuckled.
“So I should thank you for the compliment?”
“No,” she said, wagging a finger. “You should be grateful.”
“Hahaha,” Richard laughed. “If you try that again, I’ll bonk you on the head.”
“Sigh…” Aurina imitated his tone perfectly, exhaling dramatically.
“Talking about the Ice Age to a bug like you is pointless—you’ve probably never even seen one.”
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this. You should give me that sword hilt.”
“Why?”
“Because I want it.”
“No.”
“It’s bad luck,” Aurina said seriously.
“If dragons hear about this sword, they’ll all come for it. Then you’ll be in trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s clearly Tiamat’s claw,” she said with certainty.
“I can feel it. But that’s not even the point.”
“Then what is?”
“It killed the Dread Dragon. If a little bug like you could slay one with that sword, imagine what others could do if they had it!”
“Stop calling me a bug.”
“Alright, strongest bug.”
Richard rubbed his temple. “Still, you reminded me—maybe that’s why the emperor lied about it being irreparable.”
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Aurina teased, leaning close. Richard shifted the hilt to his other hand.
“I heard your fifty-thousand debt includes armor,” she said.
“Yes. The Dread Dragon’s fire destroyed everything. Frostsilver was out of spell slots and couldn’t teleport me away.”
Aurina smirked, covering her mouth to stifle laughter. She had already won too much to gloat now… but still, it was funny.
“After that… you know the rest. The princess couldn’t be saved. Not even her body was found. She vanished—completely—into the Dread Dragon’s black sea of filth.”
Richard’s eyes dimmed. “I still feel I’ve failed the emperor. For a father, that loss must be unbearable.”
Aurina vaguely remembered the princess—cute, maybe, though flat and dull. What was I even thinking, chasing her instead of the unicorn? she thought. There were no princesses in my lair anyway.
Then she imagined Richard—poor fool—diving into dragon dung, searching for a princess who was long gone.
She couldn’t help it. She burst into laughter.
“Hee-hee-hee-hee…”
When Richard didn’t hit her, she grew bolder.
“Gah-ha-ha-ha! Hahaha! Hee-hee-hee!”
She rolled on the ground, laughing again and again, clutching her stomach.
Richard’s eye twitched. He raised his iron fist.
WHOOSH!
Aurina instantly sat up straight, schooling her face into mock seriousness.
“So you took on fifty thousand in debt?”
“The contract says so,” Richard replied. “I didn’t notice the fine print.”
“It’s just paper.”
“But I made a vow.”
“You could’ve negotiated!”
Aurina said. “What’s an emperor but the leader of many bugs? You’re the strongest bug! You could’ve smashed his palace and used his gold for a bed!”
“He’s still a father who lost his daughter and his relic,” Richard said calmly. “Law must restrain power. If I trample order whenever it’s inconvenient, then others will do the same—and the world will fall into chaos.”
Aurina tilted her head.
“Richard… are you trying to convince yourself?”
Richard paused.
“Why do you say that?”
“Just a feeling,” she replied.
“You said the emperor lied so dragons wouldn’t target him. You said you believe in order. But last night, didn’t you break into a manor, burn, slash, and rampage?”
“That’s… different,” Richard sighed. “Sometimes, I just get tired.”
“Then sleep.”
Aurina patted her thigh.
Richard noticed it was softer than he remembered—hardly fitting for a “young girl.”
When he hesitated, Aurina pressed a finger into her white-silk-covered thigh, dimples forming. She smirked.
“Go on, rest. Men love this. Just remember—sleep vertically, not horizontally. It’s more comfortable.”
“You’re just planning to steal the hilt once I close my eyes, aren’t you?”
“Not bad,” she said brightly.
“As expected of the strongest little bug.”