“Unbelievable!” Leopold watched the scene unfold. The glowing chains hovered in mid-air, overlapping and crisscrossing, tightly binding the three goblins.
The runes on the surface of the chains flowed slowly, emitting a faint hum like the distant echo of church bells.
An instant kill. Those three insufferably arrogant goblins perished on the spot like mere ants!
Blake shifted back into his human form. Standing beside Leopold with his mouth agape, he was clearly too shocked to speak.
“...This is what you call fucking ‘knowing a little’?”
Oliver let out a long breath. As the air rushed from his chest, it took all the tension he had been holding with it. His knees buckled, and he collapsed forward.
“Hey!” Blake was the first to react, rushing forward in two quick strides to catch him.
“Pull yourself together!” Blake grabbed him by the shoulders and began shaking him vigorously.
“M-Mr. Blake... I didn't... drag you guys down, did I?”
“Drag us down? What the hell are you talking about, kid?”
“...T-That's only because Mr. Leopold and Mr. Blake held them off that I was able to...” Oliver said, his head spinning from the shaking.
“Huh?” Blake let go of his shoulders and stared him up and down for a long moment, as if trying to determine if he was joking. “Are you messing with me?”
“I... I'm very sorry, Mr. Blake...” Oliver hurriedly bowed to apologize.
“Hey! I'm not asking you to apologize!” Blake scratched his hair, looking utterly exasperated. “I mean—”
“He means to say that your magic is incredible.” Leopold slowly walked over, cradling Isabella in his arms once more.
“...Really?”
“Really,” Leopold said. “And Teacher Oliver, if not for you, we would probably be dead by now.”
Oliver looked down at his trembling hands. “...I thought I would mess it up.”
“Ahem. Teacher Oliver, I heard there's a pretty decent place in the Royal Capital's central square,” Leopold said. “Once we get back, let's grab a bite together, shall we?”
“...Grab a bite?” Oliver asked in disbelief.
“Yeah.” Still bleeding, Leopold offered a relaxed smile as he held Isabella. “Bella and I had the roasted rock worms at the central square once before, and they were quite good. You've been here for so long, but you haven't tried them yet, have you?”
“Is that alright?”
“Of course!” Blake popped up from behind Oliver, giving him a firm slap on the shoulder before pulling him into a half-hug. “You're not going to turn us down, are you?”
“Mr. Blake... p-please, loosen your grip a bit...”
“Who are you calling 'Mr.'?” Blake glanced down at him. “That spell of yours just now—was it Seventh-Circle? Or Sixth-Circle? I don't understand Elven magic, but the scale of that magic circle was at least Sixth-Circle or higher, right?”
“It was... Seventh-Circle.”
Leopold couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. He looked down at Isabella in his arms. Her brow was furrowed, as if she were trapped in an uneasy dream.
“Thank you for your hard work, Bella.”
Leopold looked up. Perhaps those faceless bastards were scratching their heads in frustration as they watched him right now!
“Let's go,” he said. “There's no point in staying here any longer.”
Blake turned around and pointed at the three goblins. “What about them? Just leave them hanging there?”
Leopold thought for a moment before saying, “Collect their magic cores, and those strange prosthetics as well.”
Blake nodded. Releasing Oliver's shoulder, he walked toward the three bodies bound by the glowing chains.
Squatting down, he brushed aside the prosthetic limb on one of the goblins. The dark red magic core embedded inside had already shattered into several pieces.
He searched the other bodies, picking up two magic cores of different sizes and weighing them in his hand.
“Dragon magic cores.” Blake still found it hard to believe even after seeing them with his own eyes. “All three of them had one. Though the quality isn't on the same level as that dark red one, they're still usable.”
Leopold didn't reply. He merely looked down at Isabella, who remained unconscious. Reaching out, he gently brushed away a few stray hairs stuck to her forehead with dust. The most urgent matter right now was to take her back and tend to her wounds.
“Time to go,” Leopold said, already heading out.
Blake wrapped the fragments of the shattered magic cores in a piece of cloth, stuffed them into his shirt, and stood up.
“Let's move, Oliver. Don't just stand there.”
“A-All right... Mr. Blake!” Oliver stumbled as Blake clapped him on the back.
“Drop the 'Mr.'!”
“All right, Mr. Blake!”
“Hey!”
Gorn and his guards were waiting anxiously at the gates of the Royal Capital. The moment he saw Leopold's group returning from the direction of the mine shaft, Gorn ran over to meet them.
“Mr. Leopold!” A clear note of relief washed over his voice. “Lord Blake... you're all right—”
Gorn cut himself off mid-sentence. His gaze fell upon the unconscious Isabella in Leopold's arms, then swept over the dried golden blood on Leopold's jaw.
“...What kind of battle did you just fight?”
“It's a long story,” Leopold said softly. “We'll talk when we get back.”
Gorn stared blankly for a moment, then nodded. Stepping aside to clear the path, he gestured to the guards behind him. The guards immediately dispersed to clear the way ahead.
Leopold returned to the cave where he had first undergone his slumber. He laid Isabella down on the bed and sat beside her.
The goblin medical team helped clean Isabella's wounds, and Leopold fed her some of the healing potion left behind by the elves.
“Brother...”
“Thranduil...”
Sitting by the edge of the bed, Leopold paused.
“...Thranduil.” He shook his head. There were too many mysteries surrounding Isabella. “...The dragon clan isn't entirely made of friends, either.”
He leaned back against the chair, which pulled at the wound on his back, making him grimace in pain. He looked down at the messy bandages wrapped around his torso. Blake had wrapped them with a rough hand, but at least they had stopped the bleeding.
The goblins' war was about to begin. How much longer could outsiders like them remain in this subterranean kingdom?
They had a long road ahead of them. Leopold gazed at Isabella's sleeping face. At the very least, he would not let the dragon clan go extinct.
The cave was dead silent, save for the distant sound of the underground river and the dim glow of the fluorite overhead. Leopold sat leaning against the chair for a long time, eventually falling asleep.
At least, that was the scene Isabella saw when she opened her eyes.
Leopold's head was tilted to the side against the chair. His mouth was wide open, and a thin trail of drool was dripping onto the floor—he looked utterly ridiculous.
Isabella lay there watching him for a good while. She didn't move, nor did she make a sound.
Her gaze slowly drifted from the corner of his mouth to his jaw, where a streak of golden blood had dried. Looking higher, she saw a dark bruise under his eye and a slight swelling at the corner of his lip.
She remembered him chanting Elven magic before she lost consciousness. It was a very long incantation, one she had never heard before, but she had still trusted Leopold.
There was no real reason for it. If she had to find one, it was simply because she wasn't anyone else—she was Isabella.
“...We survived together, Leo.”
Propping herself up against the edge of the bed, she slowly sat up. She reached out, her fingertips hovering just beside his cheek, before she pulled her hand back.
“I...” She swallowed the rest of her words. After staring blankly for a few seconds, she couldn't help but lower her head and smile. “He's fast asleep. What on earth am I so afraid of...”
Rate on N.U.
