Chapter 89
Barbery slowly blinked as she looked at Kur.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
During the time she blinked, he stood frozen, as if turned to stone.
“So dragons are different?” she pressed.
Kur barely managed to part his lips, which felt as dry as if they had stuck together.
“They’re not different. If there’s no owner, you can just take it.”
“Then the Black Heart really would’ve been much easier to obtain. So why did you insist on the Heart of the Desert?”
Kur drew in a breath, moistened his cracked lips, and answered as slowly and calmly as he could.
“I told you back then.”
“What did you say?”
“That the Heart of the Desert wasn’t the only option. I just chose the easiest path.”
Barbery, who had patiently waited through his sluggish explanation, blinked rapidly. That didn’t add up.
“There’s something you’re overlooking. My physical condition.”
At the time they formed the alliance, his body had been in terrible shape. Even fragments of mana stones had been precious.
“Going to Amistry in that state was impossible. I would’ve died before ever getting a mana stone.”
Barbery nodded at his explanation.
Indeed, Kur back then had been so frail he’d collapse dizzy even on stable ground.
“But now, you could obtain the Black Heart with your own power.”
Soon, he would be free from the troublesome body that required constant mana stone consumption. Her mind wanted to congratulate him, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“So… the Heart of the Desert isn’t necessary anymore……”
Instead, something completely different slipped out.
Until her revenge was complete—
Her original estimate had been ten years. She hadn’t planned to defeat Glock all at once, but to slowly tighten the noose and torment him.
Yet recently, Barbery had found herself unconsciously rushing toward a full-scale confrontation with Glock. For Kur’s sake.
But now, there was no reason.
Kur would be free from his dependency, and she could return to her original plan. It should have been good news, yet she felt no joy at all.
“So what happens to our alliance now?”
Tracing the geometric patterns on the cushion with her fingers, Barbery asked.
She hadn’t expected it to end so abruptly.
Still… since they were partners, he wouldn’t just leave the moment the alliance ended, right?
No matter how she tried to reassure herself, disappointment lingered.
“Don’t jump ahead. I still need the Heart of the Desert—and your help.”
Pulled from her thoughts, Barbery asked why with her eyes.
“The Black Heart continues to run rampant even without an owner. It’s abnormal. The only way to stop it is to destroy it.”
“So it was a mana stone that couldn’t be possessed in the first place?”
“Yes.”
Barbery blinked slowly, then clicked her tongue in disbelief.
Then you should’ve just said so. She’d thought she could solve it without lifting a finger—what a letdown.
She grumbled as if complaining, but the corners of her mouth lifted into a gentle smile. Knowing there was still something she could do for Kur put her at ease.
“So don’t think nonsense thoughts and take responsibility for me until the end. Got it?”
“It’s annoying as hell, but fine. I’ll help you—just this once.”
Before she knew it, Barbery was back to her usual smug self, and Kur was satisfied by that.
He hadn’t lacked mana to reach Amistry—he might’ve had to rest repeatedly from dizziness, but he would’ve made it.
Destroying the Black Heart to stop its rampage? Karna would’ve called that a scam if she heard it.
Kur had lied.
To hide the fact that the alliance itself was bait—to keep her by his side.
One lie led to another. He felt guilty at times, but whenever Barbery smiled, his thoughts shifted.
As long as she didn’t find out, it was fine.
“What about taking over the Frozen Heart Karna had?”
“The moment I asked, Karna would’ve killed me.”
That part was true.
“She might’ve just given it to you.”
Didn’t she call him “kid” and seem rather fond of him?
Barbery insisted, but Kur firmly denied it, saying that was a misunderstanding.
After washing the sand from her body in lukewarm bathwater, Barbery headed toward the coast with Luther.
When they reached the wooden barricade at the entrance, Luther stopped.
“From here on, special equipment is required for safety.”
At his gesture, soldiers handed items to Barbery and her group.
A gas mask that covered the entire head, and thick gloves that looked heavy at a glance. She was already hot from the layers of clothes the maids had piled onto her.
“Is all this really necessary?”
“It’s for safety.”
Luther replied coldly, already wearing his mask.
There was no alternative. Even if she steamed to death, she had to accept it. She couldn’t help envying Kur, who confidently refused the equipment.
After confirming everyone was masked, Luther led them inside the barricade.
Many workers wore gas masks, and they flinched when they saw Kur walking around openly, his face exposed.
“The purification work is ongoing without rest.”
Luther began explaining, pointing ahead.
The workers used tightly woven nets to collect the sticky substance floating in the sea, transferring it into oak barrels.
The filled barrels gathered beneath large tents—there were at least twenty already. Even so, space was insufficient, and new tents were being erected.
“The amount drifting in from Amistry keeps increasing,” Luther said heavily.
Standing beside the tents packed with barrels, Barbery felt like she could smell the stench even through the mask.
“Are you okay?” she asked Kur.
With his keen sense of smell, there was no way he couldn’t notice.
Kur nodded with a deep frown. His sense of smell had been ruined long ago, so ironically, he couldn’t detect it well—misfortune within fortune.
After circling the coast once, Luther returned to the barricade. When he removed his mask, his face was drenched in sweat.
Barbery was no different. Sweat-soaked hair clung to her face.
“This barricade used to stand where the tents were, just a year ago.”
Now it had retreated all the way here. Luther gripped the wood with a grim expression.
“Even with most of the territory’s people working nonstop, this is all we can do.”
“You’ve worked hard,” Barbery said.
Luther let out a hollow laugh. Her detached tone—like watching a fire across the river—made his chest ache.
Though… it was someone else’s problem. He couldn’t help thinking bitterly.
“As you can see, we’re barely surviving. We don’t have the luxury to wage war.”
“Looks that way.”
Her continued indifference made Luther scowl. He clenched his fists, teeth grinding.
“I’m not an idiot.”
Out of nowhere.
Barbery watched him silently, puzzled.
“You want soldiers in exchange for help, don’t you?”
Leaning on the barricade, he glared at her, eyes full of resentment toward this reality.
What did I ever do wrong to be dragged to a place like this?
I don’t want to be eaten by a dragon! I don’t want to die!
Despite his changed appearance, Barbery realized the core of him hadn’t changed at all.
“Crybaby.”
At her insult, Luther’s brow twisted.
“You’re just not crying out loud. Inside, you’re bawling about not wanting to die.”
As a subordinate, he left much to be desired. Still, she supposed she’d have to accept him.
Barbery thrust her fist toward him, then unfolded her fingers.
“I have plenty of soldiers. What I want from you is a loyalty oath—and a ship headed to Amistry.”
“No ship needed.”
Kur, who had been silent, cut in.
“I’ll fly.”
“Ah, then just the oath. My shiny first subordinate here will help you.”
Luther alternated his gaze between Barbery and Kur. Even without words, he knew Kur was that evil dragon.
He still dreamed of Madni’s nightmares sometimes—and now he was supposed to accept help?
He hesitated. The bond with the Lamarck royal family spanned two hundred years. Was this truly the only option?
Answer the king’s call. Send soldiers as pledged.
When the traitor Rangs’ head is displayed, I promise the mages will be sent to Buiro first.
That was what Glock had said. So he sent a hundred soldiers.
Apparently far too few—the king had been furious—but it was the best Buiro could do.
Then the allied forces meant to attack Rondar retreated due to Lancaster’s assault.
A crushing defeat followed.
Only about ten soldiers returned. Of course, no mages were sent.
After organizing his thoughts, Luther resigned himself to accepting a new king.
Even if she was a woman who still mocked him as a crybaby—survival came first.
Straightening himself, Luther approached Barbery.
“Luther Max swears lifelong loyalty to Her Majesty Barbery Rangs, Queen of Barberania.”
“Break it and you die.”
Her flippant tone made him frown slightly, but Luther still kissed the back of her hand.
“Good. Then since Buiro is now my land, I should actively solve its problems.”
Turning to face Kur, Barbery grinned.
“Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Amistry. You said you’d fly.”
Kur frowned and tilted his head. He knew her impatience well, so ordering him to go immediately wasn’t surprising.
But it sounded like she was going too.
“Just in case—only I’m going to Amistry.”
“Huh? I’m going too.”
There it was. He’d been right.
Kur firmly shook his head. Even the workers, wearing thick leather boots, were careful not to step on the sticky substance.
And she wanted to go there? Without the ability to fly?
He was certain she hadn’t fully grasped Amistry’s situation.
“A land humans can’t step into means humans shouldn’t go.”
“I know.”
Then she should explain what she planned.
When Kur widened his eyes, Barbery revealed her idea, telling him to calm down.
“I’ll stay on your back the whole time. I’m a dragon rider, remember?”
Correction—he was angrier now.
“Your Majesty, this isn’t something to satisfy curiosity. You could really die.”
“Who said I was going out of curiosity?”
Barbery laughed incredulously.
That reaction should’ve been his.
Kur stared at her in disbelief.
“Then tell me—why are you being this stubborn?”
