Blue bloodstains scattered on the white snow field.
"······."
Vlad sat blankly upon the snowy expanse, gazing down at the blue-stained snow field.
The traces of Lindworm scattered upon the cold snow still seemed unbelievable.
And the sensation of the unadorned sword in his hand felt different, heavier than before.
"Good work."
Rutger swung his sword through the air, shaking off the blood clinging to it, then approached Vlad.
Though the boy had dealt the fatal blow, it was Rutger's sword that put an end to the rampage of the wounded dragon.
Vlad's world still wasn't tough enough to cut through dragon scales.
"······Is the old man alright?"
"Old man? He still hasn't told you his name?"
Vlad felt the warmth of Rutger, who came and sat quietly next to him.
It was a warmth akin to that of the old knight who had shielded him from the white dragon's breath.
"He might tell you soon."
"······."
The old knight, who embarked on pilgrimage with the lowest qualification, had thrown his body to save the boy.
Though he might not have planned for the current situation, his actions ultimately yielded excellent results.
Actions done in righteousness were bound to come back later.
"It's broken."
Rutger looked into Vlad's unfocused eyes.
The place where his eyes rested was on an unadorned sword that had been shattered, with only the handle remaining.
"······You did your best."
"Yeah. It seems so."
Rutger nodded at the boy's disjointed words.
At that time, when everyone was frozen, he was the only one who saw the boy's tears falling along with the snow.
"I did my best."
Rutger remembered the sight of Vlad cleaning his sword by the campfire on the meadow.
Watching Vlad meticulously polish the sword as if it were a ritual, Rutger could sense how much he cherished that sword.
"I'll get you a good one."
It was only natural that a sword crafted by the blacksmith Rutger had commissioned would surpass one made by a back-alley blacksmith.
Moreover, since it was given by Rutger, one of the family's successors, it must be a sword with special meaning.
"······."
However, even though it might have been words that other knights would leap for joy to hear, Vlad simply sat there, holding onto the hilt of the unadorned sword in silence.
The blue eyes of Vlad, reluctant to part ways, turned towards Rutger.
"Will there be another like it?"
It didn't need to be sharp.
It didn't need to shine or be robust.
Vlad simply wanted a meaningful sword that encapsulated his world.
Like the unadorned sword that gave him hope in the mud of the back alley.
"······I wonder."
Rutger, who seemed to understand what Vlad was saying, only turned his head with a wry smile.
He couldn't even bring himself to give that much away.
Snow swirling in the air.
A fallen white dragon.
The Lindworm that plagued the North had been subjugated.
And with its corpse, the dragon left behind another title.
Dragon Slayer. Vlad of Shoara.
He was the second dragon slayer of this generation of the Bayezid family.
And the shattered, unadorned sword bore witness to that title.
※※※※
Shoara's office.
As Josef focused on his work, using the sunlight pouring in through the window as illumination, a one-eyed man quietly opened the door and entered.
"Lord Josef."
"What's the matter?"
Zayar let out a small sigh as he looked at Josef's deepening shadows under his eyes as the day progressed, and handed over a letter he was holding.
"It's a letter from Deomar. It's sent directly by Baroness Alicia."
"From Deomar?"
Josef, who had been sorting through documents, looked away from his work at the mention of Deomar.
For Josef, matters regarding Deomar were as important as his position as mayor of Shoara.
"Has there been any significant activity from the Gaidar side lately?"
"At least, there hasn't been any military movement."
Josef nodded at Zayar's report.
In times as chaotic as these, held information was crucial.
To ensure safety and success, one must hide their own information as much as possible while peering deeply into the opponent's information.
"There hasn't been any significant military threat, but to send a letter directly... "
Josef picked up the letter opener nearby and carefully opened the envelope sent by Alicia.
Although Alicia lacked experience as a lord, she was a person who tried to be careful in all her actions.
While they were firm allies, it meant she wasn't someone to diminish her own worth for trivial requests or demands.
"······."
Zayar silently observed Josef holding Alicia's letter.
This was because his eyebrows were gradually lowering, showing that the situation was not as simple as it seemed.
"······Hmm."
After a moment of contemplation, Josef put down the letter with a subtle sound.
"When will Vlad be back?"
"It'll take at least another month. At least, he'll go as far as Bernhem Fortress."
Josef, who had not yet heard the news that the subjugation team had captured Lindworm, furrowed his eyebrows at Zayar's words.
"We're running out of time."
"Is it something urgent that requires his presence?"
Josef nodded quietly at Zayar's question.
"We're running out of time, vaguely."
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Josef, who was pounding the desk and leaning deeply into the back of his chair, pondered for twice as long as when he read the letter.
"When the dragon subjugation team completes their mission, they'll return to Sturma, right?"
"I suppose that's what will happen."
"In that case, I should head back to Sturma too."
Zayar was momentarily surprised by Josef's sudden decision to return to Sturma, but he quickly nodded in response.
"I'll make the arrangements."
Once a decision is made, one must act swiftly. Hesitation only wastes time without contributing to the outcome.
"Please."
As Zayar stepped out of the office to prepare for the journey back to Sturma, Josef clasped his hands together and rested his forehead on them.
"This is how it's going to be."
Though the threat wasn't visible, there was a clear intention behind the movement.
Alicia was surprised by the actions observed in Gaidar, prompting her to send a letter to Josef.
"That mistake turned out to be the best move."
With a chuckle, Josef couldn't help but laugh.
In a life where he always had to think ahead, it was the first time an unintended action had determined the course of events that had come to his doorstep.
There was a blond boy who had made a mistake with a noble lady with light blue hair.
At that time, Josef could only feel dismay at the scene before him. But now, as that incident became a clue to the problem that was facing him now, he couldn't help but laugh.
"I'll need to get things ready."
That day, the boy took the lady's handkerchief with his own hands, taking with it the obligation and justification for his actions.
Now was the time to repay that mistake.
Josef sat down in his chair and quietly looked out the window.
The cityscape, the sturdy castle gates, and far beyond, the snowy plains of the north.
The direction Josef was looking was where the blonde boy was.
※※※※
"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Are you moving a corpse or something? Why are you laying all these damn sheets over my head like this?"
Vlad grumbled, shooting back at Larmund who was complaining beside him.
"The wind's coming in."
"And why should a northern be afraid of the winter wind?"
"They say when you get old, the wind makes your joints ache."
"..."
On top of the creaking cart.
Larmund, lying on it and covered in pieces of leather and cloth, was at a loss for words at what the boy said.
"Honestly, if you just look at me now, I'm just a talking corpse."
"At this age, there are some words that you become sensitive to when you hear them from others."
Vlad was doing his best to take care of Larmund, who had shielded him from Lindworm's breath.
However, the old man and the boy, both unaccustomed to caring for others and being cared for, could only stumble forward together.
The dragon-slaying expedition returns.
Rutger, who had transferred his temporary command of Bernhem Fortress to its original knight, was leading the expedition back to Sturma.
With him were the knights of the Iron Duke, who had joined forces against the dragon's threat.
"Would you not consider accompanying me to Sturma? It's not often esteemed guests like yourselves visit, and my father would be delighted to meet you."
And along with the Dragon Slayer Knights who suddenly invaded the north under the guise of a justification.
"······I don't think the opportunity to see Bayezid's head in person will be that rare in the future."
Mirshea was stroking his chin, smiling at Rutger's polite invitation.
"But I wonder if I can go there and remain calm without getting excited."
Though they spoke in noble etiquette and conversation, there were sharp warnings hidden within.
Just like the knights from the north and central regions were currently doing to each other.
"In that case, we should part ways here."
In response to Rutger's clear dismissal, Mirshea could only offer a wry smile.
The Dragon Slayer Knights' justification lies in the eradication of Lindworm.
However, with the boy's achievements, they lost that justification, and no longer had the right to stand on the northern lands without the owner's permission.
"What shall we do about the barbarians? Shall we handle it ourselves?"
"Leave the affairs of the north to the north."
Even if they were barbarians, they could not be handed over to the Dragon Slayer Knights. The expression on Aage's face brightened at Rutger's firm refusal.
"If that's the case."
Following the gestures of Mirshea and Rutger, the two groups began to separate.
The gap that could no longer be narrowed began to widen between the knights of the central region and the knights of the north.
"Can I bid farewell to the new Dragon Slayer before we leave?"
"..."
"I have a few questions to ask."
Birds of a feather flock together. Therefore, the Dragon Slayer Knights always showed respect and affection to those covered in dragon blood.
If Mirshea and Rutger weren't rivals, their relationship would have been quite different now.
"If only for a moment."
"Thank you."
Rutger nodded at Mirshea's strong determination to do just this one thing before leaving.
It would have been ridiculous to stretch his neck just to prevent one greeting.
Mirshea slowly made his way through the razor-sharp northern knights, unaffected by the menacing energy and gazes from all directions.
Those who carry themselves with confidence can establish their own territory anytime, anywhere.
"The squire of Bayezid, Vlad of Shoara."
After passing through the knights, there was a boy standing there as if blocking the cart on which the old man was lying.
Blonde hair and blue eyes.
Mirshea smiled as he caught a glimpse of something within him.
"Not bad."
"Say quickly what you want to do."
The blue eyes that oppressed him.
Recalling the memories of those times when his intentions were not good, Vlad swung his teeth at Mirshea.
If it weren't for his interference, Larmund would have been standing there intact.
"I find you welcome, but you might not reciprocate."
"I have many reasons not to reciprocate, but none to welcome you."
Though he lacked a sword in hand, his aura was as sharp as a blade.
Vlad expressed his anger not through words but through his gaze and aura.
"...Is that so?"
Mirshea narrowed his eyes and looked at the air current flowing around Vlad.
Even the scattered strands of the boy's hair and the swirling snowflakes nearby seemed to freeze in place.
Although it was not his intention, the boy was building his own territory with momentum like Mirshea.
It was evidence of a more mature way of expressing oneself, of portraying one's world.
"I find it somewhat regrettable. It seems my warning not to go to dangerous places wasn't expressed properly."
"Don't be absurd."
Mirshea smiled quietly as he looked at the boy growling in front of him.
Indeed, this is how it should be.
One should confidently lift their head high anywhere they go.
Because you have to be like that.
"Then I'll just ask you a few questions and disappear."
But compared to Mirshea, his world is still fragile.
Mirshea tore through the boy's domain with a single step and slowly approached Vlad.
Close enough to feel each other's breath, close enough for their reflections to be seen in each other's blue eyes.
"First question."
And then, Mirshea began to quietly whisper his questions into Vlad's ear.
In a voice that only the boy could hear, so that no one else could listen in,
"Do you find your heart racing every time you see a dragon?"
"······!"
Mirshea slowly exuded his aura with the question.
Vlad found himself unconsciously clutching his chest in the same way as he did then, in the presence of an aura only a dragon could detect.
"······What do you mean?"
"Second question."
Mirshea smiled as he sensed the boy's heartbeat, even without a spoken answer.
"The blood of Lindworm was blue."
Vlad, who was barely able to stand while his heart was pounding as if it was going to explode, was taken aback by Mirshea's next words.
This was because his question was so absurd.
"Did you not feel thirsty when you saw that blood?"
"What?"
The question felt strange.
Vlad, who sensed something suspicious from Mirshea, slowly backed away and looked at the man in front of him.
The commander of the Dragon Slayer Knights. Mirshea Dragulia.
"Are you asking if I wanted to drink the blood of a dragon?"
The blue eyes, reminiscent of the boy's, were coldly smiling.