Chapter 109
Chapter 109
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 109
Chapter Title: Dragonia
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'Why does my heart feel so uneasy whenever I think of the elf village?'
Yesterday, I had to play with Armis until the sun went down—no, even long after sunset.
We rode sleds until the enchanted cloak was full of holes.
Armis, like a child.
Her simple joy never grew tiresome; she looked so happy.
Even thinking about it now, she was utterly adorable.
"Sigh..."
Flap, flap, flutter.
But as Bebeto's wings brought us to the elf village, a sigh escaped me.
I hadn't done anything wrong, yet thinking of the elves—especially Narmias—filled me with guilt.
Elves loved differently from humans, but it pained me to receive without giving anything in return.
Vwooom.
We passed through the illusionary barrier protecting the elf village.
'Winter here too, huh.'
With their magic, they could live like it was spring, yet the elf village embraced winter fully.
The village visible between massive trees was blanketed in snow, just like everywhere else.
Clatter.
As always, Bebeto landed in the village clearing, and a shadow appeared.
'Narmias...'
The elf woman smiling brightly, delighted by something.
Her silver hair, shimmering with a blue tint, looked like a fresh spring flower blooming in the snowfield.
"May the blessing of the silver branch..."
She ran up, hands extended in the elf greeting.
Any other woman would have thrown herself into my arms, but just looking at me seemed to satisfy her.
"Have you been well?"
"Yes..."
Though elves saw age differently from humans, she was nearing sixty.
At that simple question, she shyly nodded.
"Here's a gift. Share it with the other elves."
Elves didn't crave jewels or material things like humans.
For those who were thrilled by bread alone during the road construction, I'd brought a large basket full of white wheat bread.
I'd cast preservation magic to keep it warm in the cold and loaded it on Bebeto's back.
"We offer thanks to Cayer-nim's noble soul."
Just a few loaves of bread, and she praised my noble soul.
"Didn't you miss me?"
"Huh? Th-that... I..."
Holding the bread basket, I jumped down beside Narmias and tossed a playful question at her blue, mountain-spring eyes.
She panicked and bowed her head deeply.
'Am I gonna get struck by lightning like this?'
I didn't even want to think about my thrilling memories with countless women.
How many had I kissed impulsively? How many had we exchanged heated glances with?
Sins no one but a notorious playboy could commit.
'Do as you please! I'll live like this till I die!!'
Looking up at the sky, my life was full of hundreds of shameful moments.
I'd decided to go all out.
It wouldn't fly in 21st-century Korea, but this was another world's continent.
I'd resolved to live freely while preserving my conscience as much as possible(?).
Otherwise, my conscience would prick me and I couldn't last a day.
"I missed you. I saw your face in every falling snowflake, and the dawn winds carried your breath, keeping me from sleep. My soul and heart are forever turned toward you, my eyes that gazed only at you, my lips that felt your moist breath of love, the hair, hands, and clothes you caressed... Everything we shared led me wandering through valleys of ecstasy. I love you... master of my breath..."
"..."
Her dreamlike whisper sent currents racing through my body.
A poetic love confession I'd never heard before in my life.
Rustle.
I lightly embraced Narmias.
The air plate kept me from feeling her fully, but I just wanted to hold her.
"Haa..."
Even in that light hug, Narmias let out a long sigh.
Her fragrant, sweet breath seduced my soul.
"Mm..."
My lips met her soft ones.
Her slender, long arms wrapped around my neck.
'Mm...'
An uncontrollable fireball surged from the pit of my stomach.
Sweet.
No other word fit; her lips were honey—no, like ice wine laced with fragrance, utterly sweet.
'...?'
How long did I savor Narmias's lips like that?
Stinging gazes from all around snapped me back to reality.
I opened eyes I hadn't realized were closed.
'Gah!'
Elves were naturally quieter than rabbits.
They were watching.
Not just one or two—the entire village watched our daytime 15+ lovey-dovey action like a movie screening.
'First time seeing a kiss or what?'
It was embarrassing.
No, mortifying.
Even for me, living shamelessly with a thick skin, some private life was meant to stay private.
"Haha, what a sight. First time in my life seeing an elf exchange breaths in broad daylight."
Elder Parkiano stepped out from the elves, letting out a hearty laugh.
In human society, this would warrant alarms blaring, but the elder looked pleased.
Elven culture, different from humans.
The other elves were the same.
No swallowing hard or leering with perverted squints—they wore reverent expressions, as if witnessing something sacred.
"May the blessing of the silver branch... greetings, Elder."
"Been well?"
"Thanks to your worry, Elder, nothing has happened."
"Good. Lately, the scent of blood has blown in from the plains; I wondered if something was amiss."
'Sniffing it out? Where are the plains from here?'
The elder, like a mountain spirit from long life, had pinpointed Neruman's war.
No one to underestimate.
"Narmias, what are you doing? Share the bread before it cools."
"Yes, Cayer-nim."
'They say women grow bold in love.'
Narmias was even less embarrassed than me.
Caught kissing by the other elf kin, yet she showed no shame.
No—the other elf women envied Narmias.
"But what brings you in this frigid winter? Did you miss Narmias that much?"
Unlike the other elves, the elder—having lived longer and grasped human ways—probed slyly.
"Of course I came to see Narmias. And I have urgent words for you, Elder..."
"For me?"
Elves were repositories of knowledge.
Their oral histories held more truth than human records.
"It's about the Temir tribe."
"Hmm... sounds important. Let's go to my house."
At mention of the Temir tribe, the elder closed his eyes slightly and groaned.
'Something's up.'
Like the dwarf chieftain, the elf elder's expression shifted—suggesting a graver truth than expected.
Something I absolutely needed to know.
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"Ooh! Just a few days left until finally..."
The continent's final month, with scant days remaining.
December of Kerma, the evil god permitted only in the twelve seasons.
The black moon Ruena, casting eerie light, shrank in the sky.
The darkness of December's last day approached.
Gazing at the sky, three black mages trembled with excitement.
"Kekeke. With His power, all beasts and monsters here—and those Temir bastards—will be reborn as the dark legion. An immortal army strong enough to topple every empire and kingdom on the continent in one fell swoop!"
"How long we've waited... Our grudges nearly burst amid humiliation and glory, yet Kerma never abandoned us."
The mages exchanged cryptic words.
In the empty Temir temple altar, they stared at the open sky.
"But what of that Cayer fellow?"
"What about him?"
"Heh heh. His mana isn't a joke. Make a guy like that the dark legion's commander..."
"Oh! That idea!"
"Agreed. With him as commander, we'd fear nothing."
Black mages in deep hoods, faces hidden.
They plotted against Neruman's lord, Cayer.
"Now, let's go in. Maintain peak mana for that day."
"Getting harder to control that wench Lokoroia. As expected of Dragonia blood—struggling against the Tears of Binding."
"Heh heh. No matter; it's almost time. Until her coming-of-age and awakening, she's just our slave, bound by the Tears of Binding."
Three black mages calling Lokoroia "wench."
They blindly trusted the elixir-based Tears of Binding from ten years ago.
A mind-control spell only grand mages or high priests could break.
Hiding in the Temir temple's heart, they'd woven a terrifying plot with it.
In utter secrecy, unknown to the world.
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"D-Dragon?"
"Yes. Human histories likely omit it. Dragons must hide their identity completely during their pastimes. That's the divine constraint on dragons in the mortal realm."
'Dragons out of nowhere. Believe it or not?'
Even the imperial library held dragon records.
But like old tales of tigers smoking, dragons were legend.
Absent from human history for millennia, dragon stories were myths here too—like ancient sage tales.
"The Temir tribe appeared on this continent before its current settlers. Per ancestral songs, Temir folk are Dragonia—offspring of dragons mating with humans during their pastimes."
"Gasp!"
Unbelievable.
How could primitive Temir be heirs to dragons, rulers of the mortal realm and masters of magic?
Even if mongrel offspring from pastimes.
"What are Dragonia's traits? If dragon heirs, shouldn't they have immense power?"
It tied to my territory's safety; I asked urgently.
"Not much different. No—slightly superior in manifesting magic compared to humans."
"Huh?"
'What? Just dragon descendants in name?'
"But occasionally, true heirs are born among them. The Temir call them shamans, appointing the mightiest as grand shaman."
"Huh? G-Grand shaman?"
Lokoroia, current Temir grand shaman.
The mere tween was a true dragon heir.
"Of course, they have constraints."
"Constraints...?"
Unforeseen info.
I listened intently, ears perked.
"They must awaken."
'Awaken?'
"Unawakened shamans are just a bit better than average humans."
"And if they awaken?"
"Awakened shaman...? Run."
The prideful elf elder uttered "run" without hesitation.
"Unknown to the continent, awakened shamans have appeared among Temir shamans. They shatter mana limits instantly, becoming high-circle mages. About 1,500 years ago, one achieved superior awakening. Reached 8th circle in mere years—an astounding mage."
'8th circle in years!'
Not waking up a lottery winner—8th circle in years.
The word recalled the grand mage aura from the Temir temple.
"Moreover, awakeners unconsciously emit dragon fear—exclusive to dragons—subjugating all beasts and monsters. Mages or knights facing them must counter mental assault first; victory impossible."
"Even if you and the other elves confronted one?"
"No direct experience, so I can't swear. But ancestors warned: if an awakened Dragonia turns black mage, stay silent until they vanish from the world."
'Black mage!'
My gut clenched in shock.
The temple aura was unmistakably black magic's cold energy.
'No strong mana from Lokoroia. Clearly unawakened.'
"Any link between coming-of-age and awakening?"
"Not sure of details."
"Ah..."
Lokoroia's coming-of-age in three days.
Recent ominous premonitions weighed heavy.
'Something's brewing.'
Unclear, it frustrated.
Black magic in Temir temple, controlled pre-awakened Dragonia, coming-of-age.
It swirled in my mind like an unsolved puzzle.
"But why ask? Trouble with Temir?"
"No, not yet."
'Lokoroia...'
I said no, but it gnawed.
If Lokoroia awakened as black mage...
The thought chilled.
Even same-circle black mages outdid white in destruction.
Magic world's canon: white mages couldn't win same-circle attack spells.
'I'll clash head-on. If black mage path...'
Thoughts complex, answers simple.
Charge the goal—or turn back.
The responsibility mine alone.