A large lock, sturdy iron chains.
Two boxes that were tightly sealed with magic spells and the church's inscription engraved on them.
A man was standing in front of the box with his back turned.
"Report."
An old knight with silver-colored hair that is close to white.
His thick, unruly beard and hair spread out like a lion's mane.
"We have succeeded in subjugating the Lindworm."
Behind the old knight gazing at the boxes, Bolcorp stood with a respectful posture.
"Fortunately, Bayezid's knights wrapped up the operation, so we didn't have to give the Dragon Slayer Knights a pretext."
"And him?"
It was a small voice, yet it echoed throughout.
The man exuded a strong presence with just his voice.
"Commander Mirshea of the Dragon Slayer Knights has left the North. Bayezid's knights watched them until the last moment."
"I see."
The man nodded as he listened to Bolcorp's report and looked at the boxes in front of him.
Just a few days ago, they had resonated with each other, spreading the energy of the dragon, but now they remained silent as if they had fallen into a deep slumber.
"Then there's no reason for these fellows to cause any trouble anymore."
The white dragon Lindworm is dead, and Commander Mirshea of the Dragon Slayer Knights has left the North.
That meant these pieces would no longer summon dragons from the North.
Because dragons who have realized their potential no longer exist in the North.
"I'm sure there isn't just one Lindworm. Duke."
"That's true."
Tymur Baranov, the Iron Duke, agreed with the words of the mage advising him.
There might still be young dragons hiding somewhere in the snowy wilderness of the North.
And when they regain their potential, a situation like this might happen again.
"As expected, storing both pieces together causes such problems."
Originally, the box was kept in the North. And then the box from the West, which was rescued by the priests when the Rabnoma family fell.
When they were far apart, it didn't matter, but being close together caused such side effects.
"We need to separate the pieces."
The two pieces that react to each other must be separated.
But who will take charge of these boxes?
As it requires heavy duty and responsibility, it's a problem that cannot be decided by one's thoughts alone.
"Your Grace, I have something to report."
"Is there more to report?"
Upon Tymur's words, Bolcorp nodded silently.
"A new Dragon Slayer has been born."
There was a boy who chased after a white dragon on the snow-covered plains.
He wasn't the strongest, but he was the fastest, and he didn't miss the opportunity Bolcorp had given him.
"What's his name?"
Tymur, upon hearing the sudden appearance of the newcomer, furrowed his thick eyebrows.
In this generation of the Bayezid family, only Rutger was considered a noteworthy figure.
"The boy's name is Vlad. He's still just a squire, but his potential shone brightly."
"Squire..."
Tymur listened to Bolcorp's report and stroked his chin, looking at the boxes containing the dragon pieces.
"And the boy."
A name he hadn't heard before.
Whether it had been hidden or emerged through his own efforts, young ones were always unpredictable entities.
"Young lads grow up fast."
As they were unpredictable beings, no one knew what they would become.
Time passed, generations changed.
Tymur knew now that time was not on his side.
Before a new dragon somewhere realized its potential, he had to separate the dragon pieces.
That was his duty as the guardian of the oath.
※※※※
Vlad set down his plate and looked around.
The mess hall of the squires, a place he hadn't visited in a long time.
Nothing seemed to have changed, but he could sense the stares of the other squires dining with him now, focused on his sword.
"Anything unusual?"
"Nothing much. At least not for me."
Potree smiled at Vlad, seeing him after a long time.
There seemed to be a glow on his chubby face, perhaps because he wasn't being harassed anymore.
"If you have something to say, say it."
".....Can I ask a question?"
Potree hesitated for a moment, looking at Vlad, who was stirring his soup with a spoon.
"One question, one sausage."
"But, that sword, was it really a gift from Lord Rutger?"
Potree responded as if there was no need to think about Vlad's proposal.
Vlad frowned, thinking that perhaps he had made the deal too easily judging from Potree's reaction.
"Is that what you're curious about?"
"Wouldn't everyone be curious?"
Vlad felt the surroundings suddenly become quiet along with Potree's words.
Perhaps everyone had wanted to ask.
Whether Vlad really received the sword from Rutger.
"My sword broke during the mission, so naturally, I should get a new one."
The boy did his best to capture Lindworm, and in the process, his own sword broke.
And Rutger, as the leader of the group, had a responsibility to compensate for that.
"Impressive."
Vlad said nonchalantly, but Potree and the other squires around nodded their heads with shining eyes.
"What's up?"
"He is the most likely successor of the count. Receiving a sword from such a person is undoubtedly significant."
The people around didn't just think of Vlad receiving Rutger's sword as mere compensation.
That sword was evidence that Rutger recognized and vouched for Vlad.
"Perhaps he gave you a choice?"
"....Just leave it at that."
Though a squire of Josef, Vlad was recognized by Rutger.
To others, Vlad might seem to be standing amidst complex currents.
Vlad didn't like people around him imagining freely about him.
"I have something to pay back to Lord Josef."
"······I apologize if I made you feel bad."
Vlad quietly tore a piece of bread, reminiscing about the past while dipping it into the soup.
His actions now might seem insignificant, but there was a time when it was a lifelong dream.
Even though his current appearance may seem impressive, Vlad never forgot who he was.
The fact that he could establish roots in a place like the Bayezid family, not in the dirty back alley, was solely because a person named Josef recognized him.
Vlad felt obligated to repay that as a man of faith.
Because that's what he wanted to do.
"But do you know about that?"
Sensing Vlad's discomfort, Potree quickly changed the subject.
"What?"
Understanding Potree's effort, Vlad raised his head to see the squires around him with awkward expressions.
If it were someone else, Vlad might have coldly ignored them, but Vlad owed various debts to Potree and the Kanoor family.
Even Gregory has blood relation with Potree.
"They say all the knights of Bayezid are gathering here now."
"All of them?"
Seeing Vlad's keen interest, Potree raised his spoon and spoke as if relieved.
"At least it seems like everyone nearby is gathering."
"Why all of a sudden?"
"I don't know about that."
Sturma is the capital of the Bayezid family.
It might seem natural for knights to gather there, but Potree's words hinted at something strange.
"Even the knights who were on duty seem to be gathering. Rumor has it that the Count himself summoned them. Do you happen to know anything?"
Potree thought Vlad, who had been active outside Sturma, might be more sensitive to rumors.
"No."
But Vlad also couldn't grasp the sudden situation of summoning the knights.
Knights are symbols of power.
The fact that such people were gathering might mean that another threat, like Lindworm, was looming.
"We'll find out as time goes by."
There was no need to worry in advance about what might come.
The boy was always ready to wield his sword at any moment.
The sound of utensils quietly spreading through the restaurant.
While listening to that sound, the squires were quietly watching Vlad's reaction.
Vlad may not have known, but the squires who had seen him after a long time knew.
The blond boy who had been with them as a squire was now too far away for them to reach.
His presence, embedded in his actions and his gaze, proved that.
Vlad had grown too big to stay in the position of a squire.
Only Vlad, who was concentrating on his soup, remained unaware of it.
※※※※
"I've decided to stop the pilgrimage now."
"Have you made a decision?"
In the lord's office.
Larmund set down the teacup in front of him and spoke.
"It was a decision I wanted, but truly a trying time."
"I understand."
With those words, Peter looked at the coin placed next to Larmund's teacup.
The unimpressive, worn-out coin, corroded to a reddish hue, seemed like something that wouldn't even be welcomed if given to someone.
"In that case, do you intend to pass the final ducat to the boy named Vlad?"
"He has the qualifications."
Larmund nodded in response to Peter's question.
From their first meeting to the recent suppression of Lindworm, the old knight who had been watching Vlad closely from the sidelines was convinced that he was more than deserving of this coin.
"Having received the value of honor, this boy named Vlad's shoulders must be heavy."
"That's what I'm suggesting."
Larmund leaned back in his chair, as if finally letting go of a burden, and sighed deeply.
"As a knight and as a representative of the Bayezid family, I feel content that all my duties have been fulfilled."
"Thank you for your hard work."
Peter, a nobleman and the head of the Bayezid family, respectfully bowed his head towards Larmund without hesitation.
The old knight, who has fulfilled his duty and honor, will now be able to truly retire.
It was the kind of ending that every knight dreams of.
"Nevertheless, please stay a few more days before you leave."
"Is there something else?"
Larmund looked momentarily puzzled at Peter's words.
The Peter he knew was not someone who would lament farewells.
"When someone retires, someone else must emerge anew, shouldn't they?"
Larmund tilted his head for a moment at Peter's words, but then struck his knee with his palm as if he realized what he was talking about.
"So even the head of the family has acknowledged it."
"I think the timing is a bit premature, but that's the way it is."
The boy had only been here for just over a year.
And in the history of Bayezid, no squire had been acknowledged within just one year.
"With this appointment, the record for the youngest and shortest term will be broken."
"Such traditions can always be broken."
Peter faintly smiled as he heard the words from the old knight, who always valued tradition.
"...Having heard those words directly from Lord Larmund, I feel even more assured."
With those words, Peter looked out beyond the window.
The sturdy walls of Sturma, always guarding the city.
Above those walls, white winter snowflakes were fluttering down.
And along with winter, Peter remembered the boy who had come to Bayezid.
The knights were gathering in Sturma.
Holding the flag of the Bayezid family.
Everyone was expecting the birth of a new honor.