Leopold took the badge, turned it over, and his gaze fell on the small line of Ancient Common Tongue inscribed on the back.
“...Everything for the race.”
“Dragon Slayers?” Blake's voice deepened. “How did they deliver the badge to the castle gates?”
Gorn shook his head. “I don't know. When the patrol soldiers found the wooden box, there were no footprints or lingering presence within a hundred paces. It was as if it appeared out of thin air.”
Leopold weighed the badge in his palm. The metal was quite heavy, and its edges were polished smooth, clearly not something made in a hurry.
“Do you know what they mean by a ‘greater gift’?” Leopold asked.
“Today's explosion in the north of the capital was also the work of these Dragon Slayers.” Isabella also produced several badges. She paused. “When I pursued them to that location, I found a few suspicious goblins... who were wearing them.”
Gorn's expression shifted instantly. He quickly stepped forward, took a badge from Isabella's palm, and examined it closely under the light of the lantern.
“...They are identical.” Gorn clenched his fingers. “They didn't just demonstrate at the castle gates; they personally took part in the explosion.”
Leopold frowned. “How many goblins died in the North District explosion?”
“Seven civilians and two patrol soldiers.” Gorn clenched his fist. “They were blown to pieces in their sleep!”
“...They worked very cleanly.” Leopold returned the badge to Gorn. “The North District explosion happened in the dead of night, their targets were precise, and they left no obvious traces. This doesn't seem like the work of a mere rabble.”
Gorn took back the badge, his face grim. “Are you saying... someone is backing the Dragon Slayers, providing them with technology, intelligence, or funding?”
Blake leaned against the stone wall, the wound on his left leg already beginning to scab over under the effects of the healing potion.
He let out a cold snort. “Playing tricks. If I find their lair, I'll seal off all the exits and see how they—”
“Blake,” Leopold interrupted him. “Your current condition isn't suitable for a fight.”
Blake opened his mouth to retort, but looking down at the still-red wound on his left leg, he ultimately just clicked his tongue and turned his face away.
Gorn put away the badge, his expression solemn. “Mr. Leopold, I will increase patrol and reconnaissance efforts within the tribe in the near future.”
“I have also sent men to investigate the ruins in the North District for any remnants of the explosion. If the Dragon Slayers used any special items or magic, we should be able to find some clues.”
“And what about the ‘greater gift’ they mentioned in seven days...?” Isabella's voice sank.
“We won't let them succeed.” Gorn's tone carried an unquestionable resolve. “This is the Bronzebeard Tribe's territory. Since they have sent a declaration of war, we will accept it.”
The three dragons returned to the castle. It was already late at night.
The entire capital was shrouded in a quiet, dim light. Pedestrians were almost invisible on the streets, with only the occasional patrol squad carrying ore lanterns passing by.
Leopold pushed open the door to the parlor and slumped into a random chair.
Isabella followed behind him, placing the leather pouch and the crystal vial on the table, then turned to add a few pieces of charcoal to the fireplace.
When the fire flared up again, Blake finally limped in. He didn't sit down, instead sliding down the wall to sit on the floor, his left leg stretched out as he looked down at the scabbed wound.
“...The elves' potion is quite effective,” he muttered reluctantly.
Leopold pulled 《Introduction to Basic Magic》 from his robe, flipped to the first page, stared at the dense Elvish script for a full ten seconds, and then closed the book with a snap.
“...I can't read it.”
Isabella squatted beside Leopold, the firelight dancing on the tip of her nose. Her voice was soft. “Gorn said he would help you find an Elvish teacher. There should be news soon.”
“I hope so.” Leopold placed the book on his knees, leaned his head back against the stone chair, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath.
“Leo,” Isabella said, her voice sounding a bit muffled. “Why did you save those two elves today?”
Leopold opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her. Isabella's face was turned slightly away, her gaze drifting elsewhere.
“Because they couldn't die underground,” Leopold said. “If the Yegati Empire investigated, the Bronzebeard Tribe would bear the brunt of it. Gorn's unification war hasn't even begun yet; we can't let him get dragged into such massive trouble.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Leopold was silent for a few seconds. He opened his mouth, wanting to say yes, but the words changed when they reached his lips. “...And partly because I thought those two elves were quite interesting.”
“Interesting?” Isabella finally turned her head to look at him, her ice-blue eyes carrying an indescribable emotion. “What was interesting about them?”
Leopold opened his mouth, but as the words hovered at the tip of his tongue, he suddenly realized that Isabella didn't seem to want a standard answer.
“Isabella?” Leopold softened his voice.
Hearing this, Isabella's shoulders trembled slightly. She did not answer immediately, only lowering her head.
Leopold stared at her profile for a long moment. The firelight danced on her white hair, casting delicate shadows on her fair skin.
Her usually clear and cold ice-blue eyes were half-veiled now, stripped of all the sharp edge she displayed during battle, leaving only a mournful tranquility.
“...It's nothing,” she whispered. “Just asking.”
“Bella,” Leopold's voice grew gentler. “Are you angry with me?”
“No.”
Leopold sighed, stood up from his chair, and gently squatted down in front of Isabella, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.
“Tell me, Bella.”
Isabella did not look up, but her eyelashes trembled slightly. She still didn't say a word.
“But Isabella was very brave today,” Leopold smiled and continued. “Isabella transformed into a white dragon and flew out, catching all the bad guys in just a few moves!”
“That was so cool! And when we were eating, Isabella took such good care of me, and everything she ordered was delicious.”
Leopold's praise was gentle and sincere, and a faint smile appeared on Isabella's face.
“Right? And if Isabella hadn't arrived in time and used Holy Light magic, maybe...”
“Don't say any more, Leo...” Isabella stood up and smiled at Leopold. “It's getting late. Go to sleep.”
Leopold raised his hand, wanting to say a few more words, but Isabella had already turned and walked toward the guest rooms upstairs.
“I'm going back to my room first.” Her voice was soft, making it impossible to tell if she was happy or angry.
Blake, who had been leaning against the wall in silence like a piece of background furniture, finally lazily raised his eyelids. He glanced at Leopold standing in place and couldn't help but laugh.
“Tsk, so stupid.” He propped himself up against the wall, limping as he stood up. “I didn't realize you could be such a blockhead sometimes, Leopold.”
“...A blockhead?”
Leopold slowly stood up, walked to the fireplace, and warmed his hands by the fire... So the point of that sentence wasn't about a hero saving a beauty, but how he had only seen the "elves as interesting" while ignoring her feelings.
“Sigh.” Leopold sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“You've broken Isabella's heart like this, so hurry up and schedule a place with her to have a proper duel to settle this!” Blake shouted loudly.
“A duel? Blake, did you misunderstand something?” Leopold turned around, looking at Blake in disbelief.
“Yeah, a fight,” Blake said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Whatever conflict there is between dragons, a good, hearty fight will resolve it all.”
“Conflict?”
“And they call you a blockhead,” Blake shook his head, looking at Leopold with deep pity. “Isabella is royalty! She arrived late to this battle, and you stole all her thunder. How could she not be angry?”
Leopold froze on the spot, blinking his golden eyes.
“...My thunder?”
Rate on N.U.
