“It seems you are not the common ruck seeking to plunder my treasure.”
Then, stopping to consider, the dragon murmured.
“Of course, you did claim the head of this Scarabaeus leading the mountain demons and put them to flight. There was never the possibility of you being average warriors.”
Seemingly satisfied, the dragon continued.
“In that case, I shall oblige. I am the Gods’ Sickle, Calamity’s Sickle. Born with the light of the final stars, living more moons than the moon itself, I am the king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava—”
The dragon lazily got up. The miasma blasting out heat was so thick now I was almost coughing.
“Valacirca.”
The dragon as old as the gods named himself, spreading his wings with commanding presence.
“Now answer, small one.”
He had given his name in the fixed style I often heard in ancient poetry. I had to respond in kind.
“My grandfather was the Wandering Sage, my father the War Ogre of Leo, and my mother Mater’s Daughter.” I placed my hand on my heart, raised my voice, and named myself. The foul-dragon’s mouth twitched slightly. “People call me the Torch of the Borderlands and the Faraway Paladin. Disciple of Gracefeel, goddess of flux, I am William G. Maryblood.” I gave my name with pride. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dragon of the age of the gods.”
I made my greeting not too polite and not too informal, and gave it with my head held high. The dragon was silent for a moment.
“Heh... heheh...”
He suddenly started laughing in a low voice, and then spoke at an equally low volume.
“What a coincidence. Familiar names.”
“Familiar?”
“If they had reached me before the demons, it is possible we could have fought together, shoulder to shoulder.”
The dragon seemed to be looking somewhere into the distance. Perhaps he was seeing the Great Collapse of two centuries ago. Gus had said it, too: persuading the dragon to join our own forces was a possible strategy.
“Heheh. I detect a faint smell of the god of undeath. And you are a disciple of the torch. Yes, that explains why the ages don’t add up.”
With just that little information, Valacirca seemed to have guessed my circumstances.
“Now, then. We have talked long enough about names and histories.”
“Yes.” I glanced at my allies. While I was talking, they seemed to have managed to come to terms with the threat posed by the dragon. I was sure they’d contribute. I composed my breathing and prepared for battle.
“Faraway Paladin. Would you be interested in bringing me under your umbrella?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
◆
My mind went blank for a moment.
“Why are you so surprised?”
The tone of the dragon’s voice was at odds with his words and seemed to contain a taunting grin.
“You have overthrown the mountain demons. I have lost the force I was dependent upon. It would be dangerous and restricting even for me to remain isolated. You must see the necessity for me to seek other forces in which to to place my trust.”
There was a jingling sound. In his claws, Valacirca had scooped up some of the countless pieces of treasure scattered all over the room. He looked at it lovingly and with great enjoyment.
“I have my own motives, of course. I will demand a considerable price. But fear not. I have no intention of deliberately butting heads with a champion of your caliber.”
The dragon laughed as he demanded treasure.
It was by no means a bad offer in the short term. The power of a dragon was vast. He would be a great asset to have on our side. However—
“In fifty years’ time, you’ll kill me, destroy everything, and shift your loyalty to someone else,” I told him dryly. The beetle-demon had been killed, squashed like a bug. “I’ve seen how you do things.”
The foul-dragon was silent. His body trembled. Just as I braced myself for an attack, he roared with laughter.
“Very good, very good! Exactly!”
His laughter slowly died down. He tilted his head, and a sinister grin spread over his face.
“But don’t you agree? It’s still a good deal...”
I fell silent in spite of myself. He had a valid point.
If I maintained the strength to pose a risk to Valacirca as I protected him as part of our forces, it would give the dragon a reason to team up with me. He might serve me relatively loyally, relatively lazily, at least to the extent that he wouldn’t be hostile. In that case, was there actually a need to engage in a fight right now with desperately low chances of victory? After all, the god of undeath had said that my chances of winning would increase with time. Wouldn’t it be better to leave this in the hands of my future self?
“Let me ask you. How much of a reason do you really have to fight me?”
It was like the devil was whispering into my ear. It was easy to tell that Valacirca had probably made this suggestion fully understanding the effect his words would have on me.
“Have I personally harmed anyone close to you? No. Are you a man of such greed you would go after my treasure? I doubt it. And I can see clearly that the fame of slaying a dragon means nothing to you. When I started to awaken, you came here with determination in your heart and a spear in your hand because you thought me a threat to innocent people. Didn’t you?”
Valacirca whispered.
“You see? The threat is gone. I will bow my head to you...”
None of my allies could say a thing. This development was so much to process, they couldn’t even gather their thoughts to speak. My mind too was overloaded. What was this? What the hell was this? In some part of my mind, I’d been thinking of Valacirca as a creature on a rampage with nothing more to him than his strength. Did that describe me more than him?
“Now choose, Faraway Paladin, hero of the modern age.”
A shiver ran down my spine. His golden eye pierced me.
“Will it be peace... or else, battle and death?”
As hot miasma hissed out of both corners of his mouth, the question posed by Calamity’s Sickle echoed throughout the Great Cavern and filled it with dread.
◆
I’d planned to fight the dragon. But the dragon was trying to bow its head to me.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Does my history with the dwarves bother you? Certainly, I held the demons as my masters, fought the dwarves, and gained treasure from it, but that is the way of hired work, is it not? If my new masters say that they cannot restore the mountain while poison fills the air, then I will gladly move elsewhere.”
He was scheming, of course. He spoke rationally of the risks and costs, and occasionally a malicious smile crossed his face and he said things including:
“You are a hero, are you not? Show you have what it takes to handle me.”
This utterly unanticipated development had my mind on the verge of chaos. Logically speaking, what the dragon was saying made sense. It sounded correct from the viewpoint of efficiency and risk management. If I avoided battle with the dragon and took him under my umbrella, we would be safe for the time being, and I could also increase the strength of our forces. But I had a bad feeling about this. I had the feeling I was being tricked, but I didn’t know exactly how. What was it? What was I overlooking?
“I am not known for my patience. Choose swiftly.”
The dragon chose that moment to pressure me. My mind spiraled faster towards chaos. Should I reject the dragon’s words? But that would be the start of a desperate battle to the death. Then should I accept them? But that would be just what he wanted me to do. The same thoughts spiraled around and around inside my head. I was trapped in an endless circle.
I’d felt this somewhere before. It was my previous world. I had the feeling that I’d done something similar while huddled up in that dark room.
I let out a small groan. Memories fl
ashed through my mind: a dark room, the light of a monitor. Myself, unable to take that step forward. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. Restlessness burned my chest. Time was being frittered away. I still didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I groaned. I shed tears. I was still squandering time. What could I do to find salvation? What was I supposed to choose? What was I meant to do? I didn’t even know that anymore.
Someone, someone, anyone, please...
The memory of having come to an end without making a choice accelerated my panic. Something black and sticky started to crawl out of a pit deep inside my heart.
What do I do? What? What? What—
My breath became shallow. My arms and legs were cold and stiff. And yet my back was clammy with sweat. I had reached peak confusion.
That was the moment. I felt as if someone had placed one of their small hands softly on the top of my head.
My neck jerked back to look upwards. Of course, I couldn’t see anything there. There was just the dark roof of the cavern. But whether it was coincidence or inevitability, looking up made me take deeper breaths. As I breathed deeply, oxygen entered my body and raced through my blood. Refreshing air blew into my blunted mind, and as my senses began to function once again, her words came back to me.
— The oath you made that day belongs to the two of us.
Of course. I was already given salvation. By her. And I had sworn an oath to her, an oath that was more important to me than anything else.
— Fear thou not, for I am with thee.
My heart thumped loudly.
— Be not dismayed, for I am thy god.
My hazy thoughts started to become clear.
— I will strengthen thee; I will help thee; I will keep thee with my flame.
Heat once again surged into my body, which tension and confusion had made sluggish and cold. It was like a warm flame had flared to life within my chest. If the thing called courage could take a form, perhaps this was it.
“Oh...”
Sparks of insight fired inside my head. It was fascinating how fast my mind was ticking now. Logic pieced itself together.
Using his powerful presence and pressure to cause me to lose my cool and make bad decisions was all part of the strategy of Valacirca’s offer. As long as I didn’t succumb to that, the rest would be easy.
First, I turned around.
“Menel, Al, Reystov, Ghelreis.”
Menel had already nocked a mithril arrow onto his bow. He’d recovered most of them in the hall. Al also had his halberd in hand, and his stance showed he could spring into action at any time. Reystov’s hand was resting on the handle of his sword, poised to unsheathe it at lightning speed. And the sight of Ghelreis’s sturdy body and massive shield was very reassuring.
“The result of this discussion will decide everything. Be prepared.”
They all nodded, with the faces of warriors who had steeled themselves for battle. I turned back to face the dragon.
“Oh?”
Valacirca spoke in a low growl. Maybe I looked quite different to him as well now.
“So you’re decided. Then state your choice, Faraway Paladin. Peace or death?”
“I won’t be choosing anything,” I said, rebuffing the question the dragon had taken such pleasure in asking. ”You’ll be the one making a choice, Valacirca.”
◆
The foul-dragon twitched.
“Oh? And what will I be choosing?”
Before answering his question, I took a step towards him and looked up at him. The dragon which I had thought of as like a school building now looked at least a bit smaller. The size I had seen before was probably false, an illusion created in my mind by intimidation and pressure.
“Whether you will change, or not.”
I put the question to him directly. This was the first time the foul-dragon’s eyes went wide.
Once I thought about it with cold logic, it was simple, really. Bringing the powerful foul-dragon under my command appeared logical at a glance, but when I thought about how someone only superficially obedient would act, it really was nothing but a fool’s choice.
Say that I did bring Valacirca into my forces. What would he do after that? Obediently do what I say? Indulge himself in sleep peacefully? As if. I would kill him before long, because I saw him as a threat. So if not that, then what?
Obviously, he would be at work behind the scenes.
To raise the value of his own existence, to make sure that he wouldn’t be discarded, the foul-dragon would bring wars to me, make enemies for me, and continue to create conflict. And what’s more, they would be brutal, large-scale battles that required the power of a dragon. I wouldn’t be able to abandon Valacirca then. And as I continued to seek the dragon’s power and fight alongside him, the dragon would gradually become an emblem of vital importance. That would make it even more impossible for me to dispense with him. To ensure his safety until the day he flew away from me, he would eat away at me and the entire area around me while calling himself my subordinate.
I couldn’t imagine that someone like me would be able to control the machinations of a dragon living since time immemorial. I would have to stick with the dragon, for the sake of morale as well, even while knowing he was working against me. It would be like a nasty drug.
“Let’s be clear. The ‘peace’ you refer to is ‘a restricted peace between you and me’. It’s by no means ‘my peace,’ and it isn’t ‘peace for the innocent people,’ either. Am I wrong?”
When he heard that question, the dragon laughed as if he found this so very entertaining.
“Kaha... khahaha... khahaha! Precisely. You are correct.”
The elder dragons that had lived since the age of the gods were some of the closest creatures to the Words of Creation. And the power of Words was weakened by lies and untruths. Although the dragon might try to trick me, if I asked him a straight question, he would never tell a lie.
“In that case, I’m certain about my condition. You must change.”
“Heheh. Change how?”
“If you will swear to change your fanatical, scheming nature of always seeking war—”
I stared straight into his golden eye.
“If you will say you truly seek my protection—”
If he could say he would live in peace—
If he could say he would no longer seek bloodshed except when necessary, and express a desire to reign in his frenzy and live with the good gods—
“Then I swear on the god of the flame that I will protect you. As long as there is life in me, I will guard you from any and all adversaries.”
It made no difference whether he was a dragon or a person. Wherever there was someone in true sorrow, I would offer them a helping hand. Wherever there was evil that would harm the innocent, I would fight them. That was what I had vowed that day to my silent, black-haired god.
“That’s the way I live my life.” I had decided that it would be. “Now choose! Will it be a change of heart, or else death?! I await your answer, dragon!” I shouted my question to him.
A cloud of heat and miasma rose up.
“Excellent!”
The first word from his mouth was praise.
“You have answered the Dragon’s Riddle well, Faraway Paladin.”
His wings spread to their full extent. He raised his chin.
“You are not a wretched savage wielding power without purpose. Neither are you a crafty coward out to save his own skin. You possess courage and wisdom and are prepared to follow the path you believe to be right! Marvellous! You truly are the successor to those heroes who preceded you!”
The relaxed, lazy posture the dragon had shown until now was gone. He was no longer giving the slightest impression that he was treating me as a curiosity.
“I acknowledge you as a true champion.”
Before me stood a great dragon as old as the gods.
“With that in mind, changing my nature is out of the question!”
&n
bsp; The dragon roared.
“I am Valacirca! The Gods’ Sickle, Calamity’s Sickle! The king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava! Poison exists to kill and maim, lava exists to seethe and boil! War! Disaster! Decorations awarded! Treasure! Death! Virgin sacrifices! Heroes! What is a dragon without these?!”
The god of undeath, Stagnate, had referred to the foul-dragon Valacirca as worldly and materialistic. I did think that description was fitting. He had worldly attachments, and what’s more, the things to which he was attached—money, conflict, safety, sleep—all seemed to be what could be called basic needs. However, there was a true nature behind that.
“I am Valacirca! The strongest and oldest dragon, feared even by the gods!”
It was to stay true to himself as a dragon, to keep on living his life as a dragon with burning intensity. These were the out-of-place thoughts going through my head as the dragon roared at me loudly enough to make my skin tremble.
“Hero, and the warriors who follow you: It will please me to bury you here, and append another page to my chronicle of terror. And it will please me to be slain here, and be spoken of in tales of valor across the four corners of the world.”
His fangs snapped and clicked. The enormous mass of tough muscle before me began to move. Negotiations had broken down. The dragon had refused to reform. The only way forwards now was battle.
“Now, if you are prepared to be incinerated to your souls by dragonflame and vanish completely from the eternal cycle, you have my permission! Test yourselves against me!”
Amid all this, for some reason, I was a little bit excited.
Dragon slaying. Charging at a fearsome dragon, relying only on the steel in your very own hand. Dragon slaying! It wasn’t in my nature to romanticize battle as much as Blood; at least, I thought it wasn’t. But this situation had some kind of irresistible draw to it. Valacirca was an opponent who was unquestionably deserving of my respect, and he was going to be the strongest enemy I’d faced so far. He was worth challenging. He was worth fighting!
“I am the Faraway Paladin, William G. Maryblood! Have at you!”
Naming myself like a knight in an old chivalric romance, I charged at the foul-dragon as old as the gods.
The Lord of the Rust Mountains (Complete) Page 30
