Lucian looked at Helen with a dumbfounded expression.
"Don't tell me the dragon you're talking about is the same kind of dragon I'm thinking of? The strongest life-form that flies through the sky, breathes fire, and surpasses human wisdom?"
"That is correct."
"…As far as I know, dragons were creatures so fearsome that even ancient heroes wielding legendary weapons struggled against them. How are we supposed to capture something like that?"
Its talons and claws could easily rend any armor, and its roar made all living beings tremble in terror.
The flames pouring from its mouth could melt mountains, a very symbol of fear said to tear even noble heroes apart like insects.
If even half of what the legends described was true, a single dragon was enough to bring about the destruction of an entire nation.
"No, before that—weren't dragons supposed to be extinct? I heard that scholars of the era unanimously agreed dragons had already gone extinct around the time the Empire was founded. Were there survivors?"
"There are no surviving dragons."
"What?"
"All dragons returned to nature long ago. Their former might can only be confirmed through legendary records and the remains that were left behind."
At Helen's calm reply, Lucian frowned.
They needed to obtain a dragon's heart, yet all dragons had supposedly been dead for ages?
"Are you mocking me right now?"
"A dragon's heart is different from other remains. It is essentially a permanent organ. Unless it is deliberately destroyed, even after a dragon dies, it does not return to dust and continues to exist."
"So the dragon is dead, but its heart still remains? Meaning we don't need to face a living dragon—we just have to retrieve the heart from its remains?"
"More precisely, we must take it from those who guard the dragon's heart. They are merely custodians who happened upon the treasure by chance, but having kept it for so long, they now believe themselves its rightful owners—so they will never hand it over willingly."
At the unexpected words, Lucian's eyes widened.
What kind of object was a dragon's heart?
An ancient treasure said to be an endless source of magic power, even called an elixir of immortality.
And yet there were people who had already obtained it and were using it?
"Just who in the world is using a dragon's heart?"
At Lucian's question, Helen bowed her head and replied.
"Those who rule over the tribes beyond the snowfields—those who call themselves the sons of the Blue Dragon."
***
After finishing his conversation with Helen, Lucian once again devoted himself to stabilizing his territory.
This time, however, instead of personally overseeing every task, he focused on teaching Hans at his side.
Hans, terrified at being entrusted with duties he had never handled before in his life, asked Lucian,
"Your Highness, I've barely grown accustomed to my duties as Chamberlain—if you give me work of this importance, I don't know if I can bear it."
"It'll be difficult, but there's no helping it. Other than you, there's no one I can entrust to act in my place."
"Pardon? Act in your place? You don't mean… acting lord, do you?"
"Yes, that. Normally, when a lord is absent, it's the administrator or the chief steward who serves as acting lord, isn't it?"
At the words acting lord, Hans's mouth fell open.
It wasn't wrong, but for Hans—who hadn't even been Chamberlain for very long—it was far too heavy a burden.
In the first place, a chief steward usually took on the role of acting lord because he had spent many long years by the lord's side.
After decades of learning, knowingly and unknowingly, one would naturally grow accustomed to such duties—yet here he was being named acting lord out of the blue.
"I—I can't do it!"
"Don't worry. I'm not planning to make you do anything difficult. The other officials will handle the administrative work just fine, and you can leave the military matters to Sir Gares. You only need to step in occasionally to mediate if problems arise."
"That's too much as well! Mediation requires authority—who would follow my decisions!?"
"Then we'll have to ask Sir Aizen for help. Tell him to stand beside you and lend you some gravitas. He knows our situation inside and out, so he won't refuse."
"But…!"
Lucian cut off Hans as he tried to continue making excuses.
"I'm not expecting much from you. Even if the territory is in shambles when I return, I won't blame you—just keep the seat warm. As long as there isn't a rebellion and Asagrim isn't taken wholesale, that'll be more than enough."
"Ugh…"
At Lucian's firm tone, Hans let out a groan.
He realized that no matter what he said, his lord had no intention of changing his mind.
"Understood. But all I can really do is keep the seat warm. Don't scold me later for tarnishing Your Highness's achievements."
"I told you—that's enough."
"Then please tell me just one thing. Where do you plan to go this time?"
"To pick up a dragon's corpse."
"…Pardon?"
"There's something like that."
Lucian gave a wry smile and brushed it off vaguely.
To be honest, even Lucian himself was still only half-convinced by Helen's words, so he couldn't give a definitive answer.
Whether the remains of a dragon truly existed, or whether there were tribes beyond the snowfields using its heart—
only after seeing it all with his own eyes would he be able to say for sure.
Nearly half a year had already passed since Lucian began training Hans to serve as acting lord.
The number of people settling in Asagrim increased by the day, and half of the once-empty territory had grown lively with crowds.
Merchants who caught the scent of money rushed in to seek trade, and through that trade, more and more shops opened their doors.
Once the foundations of the territory were firmly in place, even the officials could finally breathe a sigh of relief as their workload dropped sharply.
And over those six months, it wasn't only the territory that had changed.
"Hugo has completely mastered the Lion Sword."
"Already?"
Lucian, who had been enjoying a rare moment of leisure after dealing with the reduced workload, was startled by Aizen's words.
Anyone who served the bloodline of Valdeck was qualified to learn the Lion Sword—but that applied only to knights.
Until now, Hugo had not been a knight, so he had been unable to learn it.
That was why, once Hugo became a full-fledged knight, they decided to pass the Lion Sword on to him as well—yet to have mastered it in just half a year…
"I thought he had a fair amount of talent, but after shedding the burdens on his heart, he seems to have truly blossomed. If he continues training like this, it won't be long before he surpasses Sir Raymond."
"Well now… that's both delightful and astonishing."
If the Sword Saint himself said someone had "mastered it," that meant there was nothing left to teach—at least when it came to that particular sword style.
Hearing that one of his retainers was making hidden talent bloom made it impossible for Lucian to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting.
But Aizen wasn't finished.
"And I've finished teaching Felicia as well. We had our final sparring match yesterday, and there was nothing left for me to instruct her on. From here on, she'll have to grow further through real combat."
Lucian's eyes went wide.
Unlike Hugo, Felicia was Aizen's daughter and his chosen successor, meant to inherit everything he had.
If Hugo's "mastered it" referred only to the Lion Sword, then Felicia's "finished teaching" meant Aizen's accumulated swordsmanship itself.
In other words, in Aizen's eyes, Felicia had already reached a level where she could rightfully be called a Sword Saint at any moment.
"Your Highness has corrected all of this old man's foolishness and mistakes, so I now have no regrets left. Whenever the Eight Gods come to take me away, I can depart gladly—no matter how many times I thank you, it will never be enough."
"…Please don't say such things. Don't you still need to watch Felicia make a name for herself?"
"Haha, that's true as well."
Seeing the refreshing look on Aizen's face, Lucian felt an inexplicable heaviness in his heart.
Regret weighed down a person's mind, but at the same time it also served as the shackle that made one cling to life.
Yet Aizen had cast off all such regrets through Felicia—so it was possible he might leave this world even sooner than in his previous life.
I need to hurry.
After seeing Aizen off, Lucian went to find Ian and Raymond.
As expected, Ian was buried beneath the medicinal herbs brought up from beneath the treasure vault, energetically absorbed in his research.
"I've figured out almost all of the effects these herbs have. The properties contained in each individual leaf are incredible. If I turn these into potions, just how much will their performance improve…."
In the middle of his explanation, Ian drifted off into muttering to himself, gazing blankly into the air.
Being able to freely pursue the research he had long desired must have felt like heaven to him.
"The only regret is that there's no herb that can replace moonlight grass. That's the most important part."
"Hmm, that is indeed a shame. By the way, what about the Nektar I asked for?"
"The supply of moonlight grass was so low that I barely managed to make two more. No matter how hard I pressed them, they said there was absolutely no way to get any more."
"That's enough."
The Empire's growing turmoil had made moonlight grass difficult to obtain, but it was nothing compared to his previous life, when even the imperial family had found it nearly impossible to acquire.
As long as he scraped together every last bit, it still turned up, so for Lucian, the quantity was more than satisfactory.
Taking the two vials of Nektar Ian handed over and slipping them into his clothes, Lucian immediately went to find Raymond.
"Your Highness? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I just came by to see how you've been doing. How are things lately?"
"Well, that's the problem—I've been doing too well."
At Lucian's question, Raymond gave an ambiguous smile.
When it came to peace, there had never been a time as peaceful as now.
The problem was that while everyone else was working diligently, Raymond had nothing to do.
He had been promised the position of Captain of the Royal Guard, but the Royal Guard itself would have to be formed first for him to actually have work.
Reading Raymond's thoughts, Lucian smiled and handed him the Nektar.
"Here. Take it. Nektar."
"…So it's finally my turn."
Even at the sight of the faintly bluish-glowing Nektar, Raymond remained relatively calm.
As one of Lucian's closest aides, he had always assumed he would receive it sooner or later.
Toward such a Raymond Lucian added something unexpected.
"Yes, it's your turn. It's about time we started recruiting royal guards."
"Pardon?"
"The Royal Guard, I mean. You can't stay a captain without a knight order forever, can you?"
At those words, Raymond's half-lidded eyes snapped wide open.
It was as if his earlier languid demeanor had been an act—his presence suddenly sharpened to a razor's edge.
"I was starting to wear myself out waiting."
"You said being too comfortable was the problem, didn't you?"
"That is the problem. You stir a man's ambitions to the fullest, then leave him hanging for half a year—does that make any sense?"
"…Ahem!"
Having nothing to say in response, Lucian quietly turned his head away.
At his lord's behavior, Raymond let out a quiet chuckle and said,
"Well, in any case, I'm glad I'll finally get to act like a proper knight commander. Where are you planning to recruit the knights from?"
"The barbarian tribes beyond the snowfields."
"…Beyond the snowfields—what did you say was there?"
"Barbarian tribes."
Toward Raymond, who looked as though he were hearing this for the first time in his life, Lucian calmly explained.
That beyond the snowfields there existed barbarian tribes that had once been Lucian's roots.
That those people—whom he had long believed dead—were in fact still alive and well.
And that once Helen opened the path, Lucian intended to go find them and turn them into an army.
"From what I hear, they revere strength no less than the northerners—and they even possess a dragon's heart. If I can bring them under my command, I'll gain both an army and the dragon's heart."
"Can that mage really be trusted? It all sounds a little too convenient, if you ask me."
Suspicion that it might be a trap flickered across Raymond's face.
Seeing that, Lucian smiled and replied,
"Do you think she'd dare deceive me? The moment I come to harm, the dark age of mages would begin all over again."
"That is true, but…"
Raymond trailed off, unable to deny it.
Lucian was the one who had allowed mages—persecuted for centuries—to finally step back into the light.
If someone were to deceive and trap Lucian, the benefactor of mages, from the very start?
The lords would fall back into mage-hatred, and witch hunts would inevitably spread across the entire continent like wildfire.
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