The crimson color worn by the man was intense.
It's sticky and doesn't move easily even in a stirred wine glass.
However, Sarnus smiled as if he liked the thick and heavy sensation.
"In the end, Duke Armand did as he pleased."
Sarnus calmly drinks a glass in front of the morning sunrise.
With his carefully slicked-back blond hair and his antiquated and timeless attire, he clearly had the typical look of an aristocrat.
"There are sporadic territorial wars breaking out across the central region. It seems everyone has been building up, not just Duke Armand."
"I kept him around for too long. Humans are inherently beings who follow their desires."
Sarnus simply nodded at Mirshea's report as if he had expected it to happen.
Perhaps you thought that the knight who founded the great world of the empire would always be one, but the existence of the dragon actually slept in the soul of everyone.
"The more you trample it, the higher it rises, and the more you eat it, the bigger it gets, so who can resist it?"
No matter how peaceful it was, they must have been cowering and accumulating strength and justification.
If you pour water into a small glass, eventually it will overflow.
Expansion to the rest of the world was not just the goal that West aspired to.
"Anyone would do as I did."
Sarnus poured the last remaining wine and quietly left it on the desk.
When I turned to look at myself in the mirror, I only saw the image of the noble Sarnus Dragulia.
It seemed as if his old self, withered in the darkness, could no longer be found in him now.
"This guy isn't pure."
A reddish-gray hair was visible among the brightly shining blond hair.
Sarnus, who noticed it, smiled with a furrowed brow and began to comb it.
As unpleasant as it was, it was a problem to the end.
"He returned in a funny way, but still performed Baron Utman's job well, so it was worth praising him."
"...Is that so."
A haphazardly plucked hair strand.
This strand of hair, nestled among the blond locks, was of a red that evoked someone.
"It would be good if the northern boy were a little darker. Now is the time to pick him up too."
What has been sown must now be harvested.
You have sown, now is the time to reap.
To what extent will my seed sown in the deepest north go, what possibilities will it show?
Empty wine glasses and plucked red feathers.
As they waited to be refilled, the old dragon smiled.
***
"Mmm, mmm,"
Sigurd was focused, but Vlad, who was beside him, seemed restless somehow.
This was because Sigurd, with some strange sunglasses he had never seen before, was examining his sword as if he were licking it.
Seeing the blue sword being scrutinized one by one by someone else's hands, Vlad felt like he wanted to retrieve it right away.
"...I think it's correct."
The morning after the wild night, the dwarves had ditched their favorite drinks and were all gathered around Sigurd.
It was quite amusing to see the men with long beards so close to each other, but the looks they gave were serious and cautious.
"...It's a spark of truth."
With Sigurd's quietly spoken declaration, the dwarves clenched their fists with determination.
Among them, various voices could be heard, but the only thing that made no sound was probably the young lizard softly wagging its tail over the sword.
No one should startle this young spirit.
"Where did you say you got this guy from?"
"Didn't I say before? It was from Ausurin."
In response to Sigurd's question, Vlad took his sword and tossed it.
Sigurd's oddly enlarged eyes within the monocle watched the young lizard pass through the sword as if it were pitiful.
"But how can such a young spirit exist? From the beginning, the most powerful dragons should have eaten all the spirits..."
"I'm not sure what you mean, but why don't you ask the elves for more details?"
Vlad growled, pushing away the men who were getting closer as if they were possessed by something.
The prickling sensation of the men's beards was driving Vlad's spirit mad.
"Those who did this are elves. So, please, try to be more respectful."
When Vlad scolded that there was a space knights should maintain, the dwarves clicked their tongues and began to withdraw.
However, even though they had returned to their original positions, the two letters of regret fell from their gazes.
'Is this the first time you've seen the dwarves here as spirits?'
Geronimo, the elder of the elves, told me that the sword master had left with the dwarves.
However, the dwarves were now very pleased with the sight of the young spirit, so it seemed that no trace of the sword master had reached them.
Their way of checking the spirits through scroll records was clearly quite different from that of the elves.
"...Like I said yesterday, I'd like to take a look at your armor."
It was a sudden request to ask for the armor, but anyone here could guess Sigurd's intentions.
Sigurd's eyes, which had been widened by the monocle, still looked nostalgically at Vlad's sword.
"Anyway, I'd like to take this opportunity to modify some of our ship's equipment."
"...Are you serious about that?"
Vlad smiled to himself as he looked at Sigurd, who nodded quickly.
Giving up the sword was an unpleasant experience, but the opportunity for the dwarves to inspect the equipment was certainly rare.
This time, Vlad felt like he could see why the West made such efforts to keep the dwarves away.
"There's an empty smithy nearby..."
Although small and modest, there was a smithy clinging to Vlad's memory.
Now no one uses it, it's cooling down coldly, but I think it can work if it does a simple task.
"...?"
However, Vlad turned his head when a hand urgently grabbed him by the collar.
There was Zemina, with her eyes wide open as if she were surprised.
'No. There!'
Even though she only looked at him calmly, Zemina's eyes constantly spoke to Vlad.
It seemed that the redhead did not want to yield her precious smithy, which held her memories, to those drunkards.
***
"...That will last for a long time."
"It can't be helped. It's the only vacant forge around."
Harven whispered to Vlad as he glanced at Zemina, who was still tidying up the table with a clenched mouth.
It had been like this since the dwarves went upstairs to nap.
"Even if you say that, please don't say it in front of me."
It probably wasn't just about the forge.
She must have been upset about Vlad's indifferent response, sharing the same memories.
Though she had endured it for a long time, memories related to the ancient sword were something even Zemina couldn't compromise on.
"Anyway, how long have you been here? Don't you know this has been a restricted area since yesterday?"
"You shouldn't take out your anger on me. You two should resolve your quarrel on your own."
Harven smirked mischievously, trying to sidestep Vlad's question.
As he just mentioned, Rose Smile had been off-limits since yesterday, but Harven still wanted to sit with them.
Because he wanted to ride on their ship, which still gleamed before his eyes, just once.
"...So. Did you receive something?"
"I didn't understand a thing, but I heard something."
Although he knew it, he entered anyway, and although he realized, he wasn't actually thrown out.
The two had been on the same ship for a long time and shared the common interest of being able to communicate without even saying anything.
"The ship the dwarves arrived on."
"Eh."
Harven lowered his voice as if he had heard a great secret.
Vlad, following Harven's lead, also started listening intently.
As much as the existence of the dwarves, the ship they came on was one of the topics shaking Soara, and it was something even Vlad, who didn't know much about ships, wouldn't lose his attention over.
"They say it heats up the water there."
"What?"
However, as much as he had high expectations, the response he received was completely absurd.
Heats up the water.
They say then the water mill will start turning.
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"...I know. Now that I say it, it's ridiculous."
There are times when something seems plausible when you have it in your head, but when you say it out loud, it sounds quite bizarre.
Harven suddenly made an expression that said this wasn't true, but many steps were skipped between heating up the water and making the water mill work.
"What do you mean by they built a bathhouse on board the ship?"
"No, that's water vapor... What did they say after that?"
He gave him a chance, but in the end, Vlad clicked his tongue while looking at Harven, who ended up drinking in vain.
If he had unearthed some secret about the ship, it would have greatly benefited him.
"I'm leaving. I have to go to the town hall to report."
"I'll organize my thoughts today. You can do it."
"You even drank the alcohol that Hoover prepared with the dwarves yesterday. You'll never remember."
"...Ah."
When Vlad mentioned that he had been drinking alcohol and shouldn't touch it, Harven silently held his head.
From my experience of drinking it a few times, as Vlad said, you won't remember what happened yesterday.
"I'm leaving."
"Ugh."
Leaving behind Harven's complaint-like words, Vlad left Rose Smile and headed towards the town hall.
The hospitality he ordered yesterday had been successfully completed, and satisfactory accommodation had been prepared for them. Now, all that remained was to report to Joseph.
"...I guess I'll have to take a look."
Just turn around a little.
As he spoke, Vlad decided to stop by the old forge for the first time in a long time.
It was a path he had walked almost his entire life, but walking through an alley in broad daylight was just uncomfortable.
The appearance of day and night was clearly different, and the same was true for the ancient closed forge.
Seeing his hometown after so long felt as uncomfortable as it felt welcoming.
"There are no signs of anyone entering."
It was an empty house, but it was also a house where no vagrant would come.
It wasn't really maintained, but anyone who had been wandering the alleys wouldn't dare to invade this place related to Vlad.
Click-
Like a cold winter day, the forge's door, which had opened, was covered in accumulated dust.
The chair the old man sat in and the old anvil covered in dust.
And even the small anvil that was always lit.
"Is this enough to serve?"
Vlad looked around with eyes as complex as the accumulated dust, unable to decide whether it would be good to hand over that place to the dwarves.
He truly felt that it would be better left as a place of memories, as Zemina had said.
----!
However, unlike Vlad, who was sighing, the young lizard peeked its head out from the sword, its eyes shining.
Though it was chilly, it found it familiar.
The young lizard, who hesitated over the Flower of the World Tree, clearly remembered the old blast furnace that had burned with the old man.
"Well, if you don't like it, I would have asked you to find another blacksmith."
The friends who had been forging the sword together had all gone one by one to find a place that suited them, but the young lizard couldn't find a place that fit its heart.
But that small, awkward blast furnace was more to its liking than any other place it had ever seen.
Clink-
A young seed fell silently from the sword through the gap in the silently closing door.
As the trembling seed disappeared into the blast furnace, a warm energy began to emanate from the forge, which had been silent a moment ago.
***
It was a familiar wheat field, no different from any other place, but somehow it seemed as if a drop of black paint had been added to it.
Is it just a feeling that not only the wheat fields but everything in this territory feels like this?
"Justia. Over here."
"…"
Holy knights who used to belong to Saint Rogino but now belong to the Northern Orthodox Church.
They were currently coming to the territory formerly known as Baron Utman to check on the forecast of the evil being.
"It's all rotten."
"Not just rotten."
The knight, as if indicating something, began to scatter the grains between his hands as if asking her to take a look at this.
Even among the moldy grains, some still retained their color.
However, the things that were supposed to be inside the wheat were not visible.
"Even living beings are reduced to straw."
"…"
Justia looked at the remnants of wheat fluttering helplessly from the top of her palm.
Broken wheat grains floating helplessly in the wind.
"Why did it end up like this only here?"
It was the worst drought in history.
However, what was strange was that, except for Baron Utman, other places showed normal harvests as in previous years.
Not only Justia but also the other paladins were left speechless at seeing the fields as if they had been stamped with an ink-covered finger.
"I need to investigate further. Let's request support."
"Understood. Lady Justia."
Even now, behind them, there were farmers crying, saying that this year's harvest had been ruined.
For them, who had no lord to protect them or land to accept, the black and dead wheat fields would be like a death sentence.
"…"
Justia's thin eyebrows made deep marks between her brows as she looked at them.
Baron Utman, who had caused a great stir in the North, was no longer there, but the scars they left behind seemed to persist here.
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