“I have no objections,” Blake said nonchalantly. “As long as I can undergo my second slumber and receive my second inheritance, I don't care where we go.”
Isabella nodded as well. Staying underground was not a long-term solution.
Blake asked again, “So, which way are you leaning? South or east?”
“The south won't work,” Leopold said, shaking his head. “Though the desert is well-hidden, food and water would be issues. And if we run into angels, there wouldn't even be any cover.”
“So the east it is?” Blake said. “The great forest?”
“Um...” Oliver spoke up meekly. “If you're going east, you might be able to stay in the village where I currently live.”
Stared at by three pairs of eyes simultaneously, Oliver instinctively took half a step back, his voice growing a bit softer. “Um... it's where I live now. It's in the east, near the edge of the primeval forest. Once we cross the eastern section of the Eisenberg Mountain Range, it's about a two-day walk from there.”
“Why didn't you mention this before?” Blake asked.
“Because... you never asked,” Oliver said, rubbing his nose. “And it's a pretty small place called Cabin Village. There are only a few dozen households, and they're mostly humans...”
“A few dozen human households?” Blake frowned slightly. “Oliver, you do know we're dragons, right? Even if we can take human form—”
“It's fine. We'll settle down in Cabin Village first. Once we've gathered enough food, we'll find a cave to undergo our slumber,” Leopold quickly made the decision.
“Alright, then it's settled.” Isabella also stood up and walked over to Leopold's side. She didn't say anything more, simply standing quietly beside him.
Standing at the cave entrance, Oliver opened his mouth as if to say something, but swallowed his words.
“...What is it?” Blake asked.
“N-nothing,” Oliver shook his head. “It's just... suddenly bringing people back to the village makes me a bit nervous. The village chief doesn't really like strangers.”
“Then how did a stranger like you end up living there?” Blake asked.
“The village chief is my distant nephew...”
“...You call your distant nephew 'Chief'?”
“Y-yes...” Oliver rubbed his hands in embarrassment. “Family generations are a bit hard for me to explain...”
“Wait,” Blake narrowed his eyes. “How old did you say you were again?”
“...Over a hundred and sixty years old,” Oliver's voice grew quiet.
Blake stared at him for a long moment, looking as if he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. Finally, he squeezed out, “...Fine, a hundred and sixty it is. You look younger than me anyway.”
Oliver blinked in surprise, then lowered his head bashfully. “...Thank you, Mr. Blake.”
“I told you not to call me 'Mr.'”
“Of course, Mr. Blake.”
“...Forget it.” Blake gave up and turned to Leopold. “So, when do we leave?”
“Let's go speak with the chief first. It would be best if we could help stabilize the Bronzebeard Tribe first...” Leopold said as he thought.
“There's no need to worry about the tribe!” Gorn and the old soldier lifted the cave curtain. Gorn's face was weary, but his grayish-green eyes remained calm.
Leopold stood up from the bedside. “Chief Gorn.”
“I heard everything,” Gorn said, standing at the entrance without stepping too far inside. “You plan to go to the surface.”
“Yes,” Leopold nodded. “The underground is no longer safe. Our staying here will only bring more trouble to the Bronzebeard Tribe.”
Gorn fell silent for a moment, then pulled a roll of parchment from his coat and handed it to Leopold.
“This is the contract.”
Leopold looked down at the roll of parchment, not reaching for it immediately.
“...Gorn, you don't have to—”
“No, let me finish,” Gorn interrupted him. “You owe the Bronzebeard Tribe nothing. If anything, the Bronzebeard Tribe owes you a great deal. If we continue to hold onto this contract, we would just be greedy.”
He paused, pushing the parchment slightly closer. “In my capacity as the chief of the Bronzebeard Tribe, I officially declare the contract terminated early. From this moment on, you are free to come and go as you please.”
Leopold took the roll of parchment and held it in his hand. “Gorn, though the contract is terminated, my companions and I will continue to help the Bronzebeard Tribe as your friends.”
“Then let's hold the termination ceremony.” Gorn rubbed his eyes. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in a very long time.
Leopold looked down at the parchment in his hand. Its edges were already frayed and worn. This contract carried the bond of nearly twenty years between the Bronzebeard Tribe and the three young dragons.
From the moment the old chief Grimm wrote the very first word with his own hands to Gorn returning it now—the paper remained the same, but every crease upon it spoke of the weight of time.
He gently stroked the edge of the parchment, then raised his head. “Alright, let us hold the termination ceremony.”
Gorn nodded and stepped aside, gesturing toward the outside of the cave. “Come with me. I've had the Second Elder prepare a simple venue in the cleared space on the east side of the central square.”
Leopold walked behind Gorn, with Isabella and Blake flanking him, while Oliver followed at the very back.
The group made their way through streets still littered with rubble. The Second Elder was already waiting there, with several decently dressed but visibly exhausted officials standing behind him.
In the center of the clearing stood a stone pillar about waist-high. Atop it sat a brass tray holding a dagger and a small cup of fresh water.
Gorn stopped in front of the stone pillar and turned to face Leopold. He raised his right hand, his voice quiet but clear:
“The termination of a contract requires both parties to be present and to burn it before witnesses. If both sides agree, one party will place the contract into the fire, and the other will douse the embers with water.”
Leopold stepped forward and gently placed the parchment on the brass tray. “I agree.”
Gorn didn't press further. He picked up the dagger and dripped his blood onto the contract, and Leopold and his companions did the same, dripping their dragon blood onto the parchment.
“It's over...” Gorn took a torch handed to him by a subordinate and threw it onto the contract.
Tongues of fire consumed most of the contract. Leopold picked up the cup of water and tilted his wrist, pouring it over the embers. With a sharp hiss, the last spark of fire died out.
Leopold stared at the wet heap of ashes, then looked back at Gorn. “Chief Gorn, I can promise you—the Bronzebeard Tribe will always be our friend.”
Gorn was silent for a moment, then nodded. “...That is enough.”
He turned to Blake and Isabella, nodding slightly. “Take care, everyone.”
Blake didn't say much, only nodding, while Isabella softly replied, “You too, Chief.”
Oliver stood at the very edge of the group, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to say on such an occasion.
Gorn's gaze passed over Leopold and landed on him. “Mr. Oliver, thank you for your hard work during this time.”
“...It was no trouble at all, Chief,” Oliver said quickly, bowing his head. “It was an honor to do my part for the tribe.”
Once the members of the Bronzebeard Tribe had dispersed, Leopold finally let out a sigh.
“And now—” Leopold raised his head, his gaze sweeping past the ruins to land on the massive fissure directly above the capital.
“Together, Leo!” Isabella stepped forward and took Leopold's hand.
“Yes.” Leopold looked down at her, grasping her other hand.
“Hey, wait! Don't leave me behind, Mr. Leopold!” Oliver cried out anxiously.
“Don't ruin the moment.” Blake had already shifted into his dragon form. He scooped up Oliver with his snout, tossed him onto his back, and flicked his grayish-blue tail, calling out to them, “Let's go!”
“Right behind you!”
Leopold pushed off the ground with all four claws, his wings snapping back as the massive black dragon soared into the air. Isabella followed close behind, the two figures—one black, one white—sweeping past the tops of the ruins.
Blake led the way, navigating through collapsed pillars and shattered archways, charging straight toward the massive fissure in the cavern ceiling!
Rate on N.U.
