CHAPTER 64…………………
“Hm… if dragons really are as beastlike in intelligence as the folktales say, then it might be possible.”
It was said that dragons lost their reason once God’s blessing disappeared from them.
But Alfeo still looked doubtful.
“But would there really be a machine that could withstand a dragon’s might?”
Having never actually seen one, I couldn’t even begin to imagine how overwhelming a dragon’s power might be.
Sensing my doubt, he added,
“For starters, a dragon weighs over a thousand kilos.”
“Then what about hiring a hundred—no, a thousand mercenaries to retrieve a dragon’s heart?”
“Let’s say they succeed. Do you think those mercenaries would hand it over so easily? Professor, put yourself in their place.”
“Of course, I’d keep it.”
Handing over a treasure of national value so meekly? Only a fool would do that.
Alfeo looked at me with an expression that said, See?, and I let out a sigh.
“Hmm… there must be some other way.”
Once again, I sank into thought, searching for a solution.
“Well, if it’s just one person, it might be possible.”
Having said that, Alfeo returned to the world of printed romance on the page before him.
I was about to ask who? when the answer struck me immediately.
Lennox.
The protagonist of this story. With the settings of the strongest being in this world, he might actually attempt slaying a dragon.
No… but he’s only fourteen.
Even for a protagonist, killing a dragon at fourteen? That would shatter the balance completely.
Besides, his special powers hadn’t even awakened yet.
Though, he did shatter a magic stone…
I shuddered, remembering the scene where he had ground to dust a magic stone that no ordinary mana could ever scratch.
I wonder what Lennox is doing right now.
Hopefully, he hasn’t been hurt.
Remembering that he was in the Dragon’s Forest made me uneasy.
I had armed him heavily with magical tools, but accidents could always happen.
As I flipped through a book describing the Dragon’s Forest, my thoughts drifted back to worrying about Lennox.
At that time, in the Dragon’s Forest.
The forest, stripped of its vegetation, was shrouded in a thick, dark-red mist of corrupted mana.
It was so suffocating that even breathing was difficult.
“Watch out! Armada!”
Rumble—!
A beast-shaped monster called an Arma, encased in natural armor like a living tank, curled up and rolled like a boulder, shaking the ground as though an earthquake struck.
“Careful there!”
Crash!
Crack—!
A tree struck by the rolling Arma shattered into pieces, and the students’ faces grew even paler.
“Everyone, fall back for now!”
At the assistant professor’s command, the students withdrew slightly, their faces showing a flicker of relief.
“This thing’s body can only be pierced with aura!”
But sweat trickled down the professor’s forehead as he said it.
Something was going terribly wrong.
Arma were low-grade monsters usually found near the forest’s edge.
Named for their resemblance to armadillos, they could normally be cut down with ordinary blades.
Yet in just ten years, their size had increased, their hides had toughened, and now blades couldn’t pierce them at all.
Such a thing had never been heard of.
“I’ll take it on with Aron!”
At that, Aron stepped forward, took a battle stance, and hurled a stone to lure the Arma toward him.
“…Grrr.”
The Arma glanced at Aron but suddenly rolled toward the students instead.
“Everyone, scatter!” shouted the professor.
But the Arma was far faster.
Some students froze like statues, overwhelmed by the monstrous mass hurtling toward them.
If it struck them, the best they could hope for was serious injury. At worst—death.
“No!!!”
Slash—!
But then, the Arma’s head and body split apart, spraying green monster blood across the ground.
Ren, sword in hand, wiped the blood from his blade against a tree with an expressionless face.
“Ethan! Chris! Are you all right?”
The professor rushed to the students who had been in the Arma’s path.
Finding only scratches and no major injuries, he let out a sigh of relief.
“Good… it’s a blessing no one was hurt. Ren, well done.”
The students stared, dumbstruck, at Ren.
Such overwhelming skill did not stir jealousy—it inspired awe.
Night was falling on the forest.
“We’ll camp here for tonight.”
Because the Dragon’s Forest was choked with corrupted mana, sunlight was weak, and the nights grew even colder. Low-grade monsters, sensitive to the cold, rarely stirred after dark.
As everyone sat by the fire catching their breath, someone sat next to Ren.
“Ren, with skills like yours, why wrap yourself in those expensive scrolls? Got a spare one to share with me?”
It was a senior from the Swordsmanship Department. He spoke lightly, but his tone carried a hint of request.
“Sorry. No.”
Lennox refused flatly, face unreadable.
“Hey, Ren, don’t be so stingy—share a little!”
Complaints bubbled around the camp.
But Ren stood firm and walked into his tent.
The boys left outside muttered.
“Didn’t think he was such a cheapskate.”
“Or maybe he’s just a coward, afraid of getting hurt.”
Aron, listening nearby, finally spoke.
“A real coward is someone who steals his comrade’s shield to save himself.”
“Senior… that’s too harsh!”
“Ren has over twenty scrolls. Sharing a few wouldn’t hurt.”
Resentment simmered. Many thought Aron was simply biased toward his own disciple.
The professor intervened.
“Enough. Just because someone has more doesn’t mean you can force them to share. Don’t let it go too far.”
Aron, who had been silently polishing his sword, finally spoke.
“If one is as strong as him, using magical tools is fair. But for those of you still in training, you have no right to rely on them.”
He glanced toward the tent where Ren had gone.
That boy was truly a monster. Barely a few years with a sword, and he had already reached the final stage most swordsmen could never hope to attain.
“I, too, hold myself to the same rule.”
With that, Aron fell silent again.
The students who had grumbled about Ren being stingy flushed with embarrassment, remembering Aron Helverto’s own vow never to use magical tools in real combat.
“Quiet.”
Aron rose sharply, senses on edge.
At the same moment, Lennox emerged from his tent.
“Something feels wrong. Ethan, put out the fire.”
The forest was eerily silent. Not a single bird stirred.
They had been too occupied with survival to notice the unnatural stillness until now.
Then came the thunderous roar.
—Kieeeehhhk!
The ground shook beneath the monstrous cry.
“That sound…”
The professor’s face drained of color.
“Everyone scatter! Get out of this forest!”
Scatter? Wasn’t he the one who had said they must stay together to face monsters?
“Move. Now.”
The urgency in Aron’s voice snapped the frozen students into motion. Panic erupted.
But it was already too late.
Boom!
Something massive landed, sending a violent tremor through the earth.
Several students fell to the ground, unable to keep balance.
Then, in the moonlight, someone caught sight of the beast and stammered,
“A… a dragon…”
“Dragons are supposed to slumber for centuries…” another whispered. Even the professor, overwhelmed, could barely think straight.
Above all, the suffocating mana pressure crushed them with despair.
It was clear: they stood no chance.
That hopeless realization robbed them of the will to fight—or even to run.
No, they couldn’t run.
Even if they sprinted for ten minutes at full speed, one flap of the dragon’s wings would overtake them.
“Prepare for battle.”
It was Aron, calm even as the professor stood paralyzed.
“Waiting meekly for death makes us no better than livestock.”
The dragon’s yellow eyes swept over them.
Lennox looked up, unflinching.
He remembered what he had read in books.
The treasure obtained by slaying a dragon: the Dragon Heart.
Only a handful of people could ever kill a dragon. That rarity made the Dragon Heart a national treasure.
Come to think of it, her birthday is soon.
The very first piece of information he had learned about Melin was her birthday.
She had always celebrated him with precious gifts, and he had wanted, just once, to give her something just as valuable in return.
Yes—a fitting gift.
Having resolved himself, Lennox leapt lightly into the air.
