The crackling sound of the campfire awakened consciousness.
I felt dazed. My hazy mind sedimented thoughts at will.
I rubbed my eyes several times to clear my foggy vision. Only then did the surrounding scenery begin to emerge more clearly.
I was inside an old-fashioned tent.
It was barely a temporary lodging, but not a hint of wind could seep into the pure white tent, symbolizing the grandeur of the Imperial Court. It was a warm and cozy place.
The arid desert had a stark difference between day and night.
The sand heated under the sun would rise in mirages until dusk. However, when the sun set and the cold moonlight began to descend, the desert often bore an unbearable chill.
Thus, the fact that there was fire burning inside the tent indicated that it was either late afternoon or early dawn.
There was no need to create more heat in the oppressive heat.
A soft steam rose from a drink that followed a glug.
It was traditional liquor from the West.
I had heard it was a fermented drink that was warmed to be served hot when the cold night came. In the West, it was imbued with gratitude for the day’s labor.
I silently took the glass and gulped it down.
Labor, after all, was something that countless others staying in this camp endured as well. Overcoming the encroaching monsters was no small feat.
What about hearing the breath of the serpent that filled the horizon?
It was not something one could do with a sound mind.
Once that monster awakened from its long slumber and began to stir, the military forces that humanity boasted about would immediately turn into a handful of blood and water.
The embodied threat had already approached before my eyes.
The man’s eyes, recalling the bleak future, sank sadly.
The woman sitting across from him had her eyes closed, preventing me from reading her gaze, but she too seemed equally bitter.
With a flick of her finger, a glass magically floated up. Then, again with a glug, another glass filled with liquor followed.
It was she who broke the silence.
“As time goes by, I find myself recalling the past rather than the future.”
“You’re not even thirty yet,” he replied.
As the two began their conversation, his demeanor softened a bit.
During the day, he had been like a well-honed blade, faithful to decorum. But now, he looked familiar enough to make some jokes.
The woman chuckled softly.
“That’s right. Is it true that they say spring passes by unnoticed?”
“Isn’t it because you think about winter even in spring?”
With a voice that carried a faint scent of liquor, the man murmured.
She sipped from her drink, giving him a sly smile.
It was as if she were urging him to speak.
“I didn’t notice it when I was young, but as time goes by, I feel like I understand more. I can’t enjoy the present and find myself anxious about the future.”
“And then spring passes by?”
“…Now, only winter remains.”
The empty glass on the table filled with liquor again.
The sight of a woman who could control objects without even opening her eyes was strange, but the man didn’t seem to mind much.
It seemed like something he had seen countless times before.
For a moment, the woman caressed the glass in silence and then, in a faint tone, asked him.
“So when was your spring? When you were an apprentice to the Great Witch in the Great Forest?”
“Looking back now, it was summer back then.”
With that, the man smiled bitterly. His hand cradled the glass.
The two glasses clinked in the air with a chime. After downing another glass in one go, the man continued in a blurred voice.
“I was too old to just sprout, wasn’t I? Even though my teacher and apprentice still treated me like a rookie.”
“I’ve heard a lot… about the two of them.”
“They were like family to me.”
The glass tapped against the table. Seeing the man’s expression settle down, the woman seemed to guess the words that would follow and turned her head away.
A voice heavy with torment escaped.
“…And they died.”
With that remark, his voice suddenly cut off.
Understanding, the woman offered him another glass. After exchanging a few more drinks, she cautiously asked.
“Did you love them?”
It couldn’t mean ‘family.’
Since it was already years ago, the man made a confused expression. His golden eyes, wandering through the dense fog, soon vanished behind his eyelids with a wry smile.
He shook his head.
“…I don’t know anymore.”
After that, several more drinks were emptied in silence, and before long, the woman’s face, tingeing with a blush, suddenly appeared before the man.
She seemed to be scrutinizing him carefully.
Even though she couldn’t see properly with her eyes still shut, she poked around for a while before sitting back down.
“Why didn’t I know?”
The question thrown out casually made the man look at her with a puzzled expression.
Then, the woman chuckled softly, sipping from her glass.
“Remember the academy days? Why couldn’t someone like you stand out back then?”
“Because that was the spring of my life.”
It was a straightforward reply.
The woman’s gaze turned back to the man as he spoke.
“When you’re a seed, you’re still just a seed no matter what you do. You can only grow to be a slightly larger sprout with broad leaves compared to others.”
“That’s a bit presumptuous.”
“…Really?”
The man made an awkward cough and gulped down a drink. But the woman soon laughed lightly, as if she had only been joking.
“But I’ll forgive you. You deserve that much…”
It didn’t take long for the woman’s face, trailing off like that, to plunge into sorrow.
“If you had sprouted a little earlier, would many things have changed?”
“Can one person’s strength really matter?”
The exchanged words felt hollow. Both of them already knew that it was an absurd possibility.
There were as many regrets as that.
The woman smiled sadly and said,
“May I ask for one completely foolish request?”
“…Is it an order?”
At the bland retort, the woman pouted as if feeling a pang of disappointment.
Then, a sulky voice leaked through her lips.
“An order between us, is it? Let’s call it a request.”
The man stared at her in silence instead of answering.
As if she had expected that, the woman smiled bitterly.
Then, she whispered.
“If you could go back to that time, please just hit me once, when I didn’t know anything.”
It was inevitable that an empty laugh would escape the man’s lips at that.
It was an utterly unrealistic story.
However, just as he was about to argue, a sweet scent brushed against his nostrils.
It wasn’t just the smell of liquor.
As the subtle fragrance only a woman’s skin could carry engulfed him, the man’s eyes became dazed.
The face of the woman, coming so close they could almost touch noses, reflected in his sight.
Her beauty was flawless. Even now, she was breathtakingly beautiful, and if she had those eyes too, surely countless men would have been enchanted.
The woman pleaded in a wistful tone.
“And please save me.”
The man was silent for a while.
Was it the liquor’s influence, or the woman’s beauty, or perhaps that sweet smell? He couldn’t tell.
All he knew was that he spoke as if bewitched.
“…Yes, I will.”
The world began to crumble again.
Through the gap of the collapsing boundary, a headache struck him like a hammer.
It was time to return.
Miltram let out a sigh.
It was an ongoing series of unforeseen variables.
Firstly, the curse placed on the princess had been lifted, and before he could achieve his goal, he was interfered with.
All of it was due to one man’s efforts.
‘Ian Fercurus,’ merely the second son of a rural noble.
And for that reason, Miltram found himself liking him even more.
Though it was unpleasant that he interfered with his plans at every turn, it also meant that Ian was capable. Moreover, he was not authoritarian like high-ranking nobles.
He was a talented individual endowed with a spirit of sacrifice for the weak and indomitable will.
If it were up to him, he would want to spend a little more time recruiting him into the Dark Cult. But even he, who was so strong, was now kneeling, hit directly by an explosion.
From the sound of his breathing, it seemed he was still alive. Truly remarkable vitality.
Yet, despite this, Miltram did not feel particularly wary of Ian.
From the get-go, Ian had entered this place already wounded in multiple areas. Though he pretended to be composed, Miltram’s eyes, having altered countless living beings, could not be deceived.
To bring down someone who was barely hanging on like that would only require a minuscule shock.
Considering that, the explosion that sacrificed a test subject was more than enough. Miltram thought he had shown at least minimal sincerity and attempted to turn his body away.
However, it was before Ian manage to rise to his feet, unsteadily.
In that moment, a thick suspicion welled up in Miltram’s eyes.
If he was simply hit by an explosion, it would have been one thing, but he had also injected a paralyzing poison needle into his shoulder. He should have been groaning like the guard knights who writhed grotesquely.
However, Ian stood up. This was undeniable proof presented right before Miltram’s eyes.
Miltram could only swallow a laugh of disbelief.
It seemed there had been a mistake since he was merely housed in the body of a test subject. The woman immediately threw the poisoned needle away from her bosom.
The needles that stabbed at three points landed on the elements of the body. Normally, even if it wasn’t poison, the moment a needle was embedded, movement should cease.
Yet Ian staggered but then took another step.
One step, and another step.
With each step, Miltram’s frown deepened.
This shouldn’t be possible. As she involuntarily stepped back, Miltram’s hand felt feverishly through her bosom again.
Now, there were only a few poisoned needles remaining, which she aimed to launch again.
The needle that pierced Ian’s knees looked fairly thick. A regular human should have been on their knees already.
Yet again, another step.
Miltram finally felt a cold chill run down her spine.
Something was amiss. This was a warning from her instincts.
At the moment Miltram stumbled back unconsciously, a faint voice could be heard from across.
“Don’t, mess it up….”
It was a sobbing voice, shed with tears.
The Empire’s Fifth Imperial Princess, Shi-en.
Though she couldn’t even wiggle a finger, she was doing her best to offer her advice. She seemed to have realized there was no hope left.
The princess’s slate-gray pupils trembled as they directed their gaze towards Ian.
He was still walking slowly.
“Run, Sir Ian… Ah, the bomb is still…”
“…Pffft.”
Miltram couldn’t help but scoff the moment she heard the princess’s warning.
Is this what a descendant of a dragon is supposed to be?
It seemed she realized that a biological bomb was still inside the knight guarding her. They had barely managed to modify it in time, but the number was minimal.
As capable as Miltram was, he couldn’t just blow up a healthy human at will.
It required a corresponding process, and only a few of those prepared hosts existed. Given how secretive the operation was, the likelihood of being discovered was low, but this was now wartime.
The tether of magical power had already been secretly established.
Anytime Miltram flicked a switch, it would trigger an explosion. The princess must have sensed the subtle connection of that magical power.
Sure, there was no need for concern. He still had plenty of cards left to use in his hand.
Regaining her confidence, Miltram smiled triumphantly.
“Is that so, Ian Fercurus? How about heeding that gracious princess’s tearful advice? Ah, of course, your dear sister might be in a rough situation due to her benevolence, but…”
“Miltram.”
That one word held neither elevation nor decline.
Thus, Miltram, the princess, and even the gasping Airen, who lay fallen, could only look at him.
The man who spoke like that stood tall just a few steps ahead of Miltram. A smile that did not quite form trickled from his lips.
“…You like explosions, by any chance?”
Just as Miltram was about to ask what he meant.
The woman’s eyes widened.
She felt the flow of incomprehensible magical power.
Miltram, who sensed it before anyone else, could not accept that fact.
The venom acquired from the bug of the Great Forest suppresses the bloodstream, solidifying magic. Even moving the body was second to that, but moving magic was impossible.
Yet what was the power of this fiercely burning flame?
If there was no magic in the body, there couldn’t be any external magic to draw together. This was common sense. There were no exceptions.
However, there was one single exception.
But it couldn’t be.
Filled with disbelief, Miltram’s gaze slowly shifted towards the concentration of magic.
The eyes of Shi-en and Airen also followed suit. It wouldn’t take long before the two women’s eyes widened in surprise.
The blazing flames carved marks in the air.
It seemed like blood was flowing down. The marks it created formed letters that humanity’s wisdom could not comprehend.
Though I couldn’t decipher the meaning, I could guess its identity.
A murmur slipped from Miltram’s lips.
“Dragon, blood letters…?”
The moment Ian heard that brief murmuring, he smiled lightly and said.
“To be honest, I like them too.”
Miltram’s hand scrambled through her clothes in a panic as she realized the gravity of the situation. But it was already too late.
The core of the burning flames was about to unleash a blaze that would illuminate the world.
With a loud bang, the scenery was engulfed in a tempest of light and heat.
As they were hurled away by the shockwave, Shi-en and Airen muttered with trembling hearts.
What on earth was happening?
