Chapter 232
Chapter 232
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 232
Chapter Title: Entry
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“Didn't you hear? Next.”
“Fuck.”
The examiner urged him on. Ronan kept groping his back like he was trying to brush off a bug, but the stamp was nowhere to be felt. Sensing doom, he swallowed hard.
'Damn it, what the hell happened?'
He couldn't figure out why the perfectly fine stamp had vanished. He still vividly remembered chuckling in front of the mirror, saying how cool it looked on his back.
The two of them were still staring at his smooth back in bewilderment. Asel spoke up.
“I-It did seem a bit faded, but I never thought it would disappear completely...”
“What'd you say?”
“I-It's my fault. I should have said something back then...!”
Asel clutched his head with both hands. A few days ago, while Ronan was walking around shirtless, he'd happened to notice the stamp on his back had faded slightly.
He'd brushed it off as his imagination, nothing serious, but who knew it would come to this. Blaming himself under his breath, he choked up.
“S-Sorry. I'm really sorry. I...”
“Forget it. What's done is done.”
Ronan shook his head. Without knowing the cause, even prior warning wouldn't have helped. Licking his lips in thought, he sighed.
“...Let's go.”
“R-Really? You sure?”
“Yeah. It's not like we have any other options. You gonna seduce him or something?”
Asel clamped his mouth shut. Ronan walked up to the examiner's desk with the two of them. Aside from bluffing it out, there were no real options. Since he'd gotten the stamp once, maybe a faint trace remained.
'If they kick me out, I'll sneak in.'
At this point, he had to prepare for the worst. Searching for a wall he could climb as they walked, Ronan's group soon arrived at the examiner. The charred lower half of the messenger still lay rolling at their feet.
“You two first.”
“O-Okay.”
Asel and Schlieffen, lacking any stench of deceit, stepped forward first. The examiner muttered with interest upon seeing their stamps.
“Hmm. Servants of Lord Itargand, eh? Quite rare.”
“...Examiner. Did you say Itargand?”
The sentries who'd suddenly gone on alert changed their demeanor. Hulking figures strode over, surrounding the three.
“Wh-What's going on?”
“What is this?”
Terrified, Asel hunched his shoulders. Schlieffen's hand moved to his sword hilt. The oppressive aura suggested they could pounce any second.
Suddenly, Ronan recalled the instruction to hide any connection to Itargand. His brow furrowed.
'No choice here, fuck.'
He hadn't forgotten, but starting with this mess at the desk left no options. Was it too much to hope for fair entry procedures? The examiner, fiddling with his beard, continued.
“The youngest of the Fire Dragon clan already has servants? Time flies. Go on in.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Just don't go around announcing your master's name. Timing's not great.”
Ronan's group's eyes widened. Passing them just like that? The sentries, who'd been posturing, asked in confusion.
“B-Banartie, sir. His Majesty clearly ordered expulsion or arrest for anyone connected to Navardoje's kin. How can we...”
“You know that's a ridiculous order. Lady Navardoje enjoyed these lands before Adren was even built. Don't let greed make you forget your duty.”
The examiner snapped sharply. The deflated sentries backed off. Not everyone supported the Dragon King in the political fights, luckily. He turned to Ronan.
“And you, whose servant are you?”
“Uh... well, you see...”
The old dragon's gaze was piercing. Ronan pictured flames spewing from that mouth over and over.
'Fucked for real.'
No way out came to mind. As he fidgeted with his shirt to bare his back, the examiner, scrutinizing him, let out a small gasp.
“...My god.”
“What?”
Ronan tilted his head at the sudden reaction. The examiner stepped forward slowly and suddenly dropped to one knee. Everyone's eyes bulged.
“Uh... sir?”
“This old dragon Banartie greets the agent of the Mother of Flames.”
“Agent?”
“Indeed. You bear the Primal Ember, do you not? Forgive my rudeness in not recognizing your nobility sooner.”
Ronan raised a brow at “Primal Ember.” He'd completely forgotten. Inside his heart lay a fragment of Navardoje's primal power, incomparable to any stamp.
'Who knew it'd pay off like this.'
Thinking back, Itargand's stamp fading over days was likely absorbed here. Like a great fire devouring small flames. Scratching his head, Ronan spoke.
“Were there other agents besides me?”
“Long ago. But a human? First time. Not even a dragon or her blood kin bearing the Primal Ember... awe-inspiring.”
His suddenly reverent demeanor was chilling. Whatever it meant, receiving the Primal Ember held immense significance.
This old timer was a dragon too, yet so deferential. Ronan felt Navardoje's sensual married dragon prestige anew.
“Then...”
The examiner rose slowly, muttering toward the gate. Rumble... It groaned open like a mountain roaring. Pointing to Adren beyond the gap, he said,
“Enter. But as I told your companions, be cautious. Most dragons and servants still revere Lady Navardoje, but they fear His Majesty's oppression just as much.”
“Thanks. Uh, what about the ship we came on?”
Ronan pointed to the Red Whirlwind. It lay forlornly askew at the dock's end. The examiner waved with a kindly smile.
“Ah, we'll store it for you. No worries.”
“Appreciate it. Lord Itargand cherishes that ship.”
The sentries gawked in disbelief. Leaving those words, Ronan stepped forward.
“Alright, let's go.”
The gap was narrow as the gate still opened, but wide enough for three humans. It felt awkwardly smooth contrary to expectations, but entry succeeded regardless.
'Won't go your way, Nebula Klazier.'
Ronan steeled himself anew. Crossing the gate, at least 5 meters thick, the most splendid cityscape yet unfolded before them.
“Whoa...”
“Incredible. So this is the dragons' city.”
Asel and Schlieffen gasped. Unbelievably delicate and beautiful for a city of giant dragons.
Massive buildings were adorned mostly in gold and jewels, reflecting draconic greed in their ornate designs.
Servants, or polymorphed dragons appearing as people and beasts, strolled freely. The peak sunset enhanced the beauty.
“...Damn impressive.”
Ronan murmured softly. No time to gawk, though. Brushing back his bangs, he turned to them.
“First, head to the most crowded spots. Need to gather rumors on the church.”
“Hmm, crowds... plaza? Inn?”
“Probably. Stay alert—enemies could be anywhere.”
Ronan cautioned firmly. They ventured deeper into the city. The Dragon King's majestic spire loomed over Adren's heart, watching them.
“Damn... heavy. Carrying human ships now?”
“Is this okay... ugh, His Majesty won't let it slide.”
The sentries grumbled. About a dozen hauled the Red Whirlwind to the hangar. Normally, visitors handled their own rides, but Examiner Banartie's orders left no choice.
“Hnnng...! Raaah!”
Carrying what should float proved no easy task. After nearly an hour of grunting, they dumped the foolish sloop in the hangar. One sentry who'd inspected Ronan's group wiped sweat from his brow.
“Huff... damn. Pant, finally done.”
“This is bullshit. Even if they're dragons and we're grunts, this is too much.”
“How about this: I secretly report to His Majesty, we split the reward. Navardoje's name alone would get us fat bounties.”
“Ooh, nice. About time someone praised an outdated figure. It's been nearly a century since she left Adren.”
The sentries chuckled. As they plotted against Banartie and dreamed of rewards, creak... the cabin door eased open. A voice echoed from the deck.
“Odd.”
“What?”
Sentries looked up in unison. A man stood on the clearly empty deck. No one had been there during inspection.
The long-haired man to his waist wore a black coat to his shins. Looking down, he spoke.
“One question. Who rules Adren now?”
“Wh-Who are you?!”
“Has Navardoje stepped down?”
Ignoring them, the black-clad man continued. No answer came. Sighing at their reactions, he said,
“...Seems so. Quite some time has passed.”
His calm was infuriating. Confusion turned to rage on the sentries' faces. One drew his spear, pointing.
“Looks like a stowaway with an attitude. Get down!”
“Surrender and we won't tear you apart!”
Rage spread. Such insolence intolerable. Famous dragons' servants, mere watchdogs in Adren but superhuman vs. humans.
“Get down!”
One hurled his spear. Whoosh! It sliced air toward his head.
But the black man dodged with a casual head tilt, hands in pockets. Thud! It embedded in the mast behind. The sentry's eyes bulged.
“H-He dodged?”
The blade vanished into the mast from sheer force. A human dodging? Impossible. Glancing at the spear, the man growled low.
“How dare you bare your teeth before me.”
Sentries flinched. His aura shifted entirely. No ordinary foe. Judging quickly, they unleashed their stamps in unison.
“Suspicious bastard—take him out!”
“Raaargh!”
Skilled ones activated fast. Armor burst, scales covering beastly forms.
In seconds, they morphed into wyvern-human hybrids. Roaring furiously, they charged.
“I'll kill you!”
“Know where you are?!”
One leap landed them aboard. Boom! Boom! Boom! Massive feet thundered on deck. The black man withdrew his hands. Crack! His form blurred—ten of eleven torsos exploded off.
“Wh-What...!”
Invisible. The survivor's face paled. Splatter— blood and chunks rained like downpour.
The black man stood unmoved, drenched casually like on an outing. Sensing utter defeat, the last turned to flee. Something long and sharp pierced his back.
“Guh... ack...!”
He looked down slowly. The spear he'd thrown protruded from his chest. The black man tapped the shaft.
“Spit out everything you know. About Adren... and Navardoje.”
“O-Okay, I'll tell all—just spare me...!”
No reply. Terror overriding pain, the sentry spilled everything. It took twenty minutes.
“I see. Navardoje and her kin vanished somewhere suddenly?”
“Y-Yes! No one knows where. True!”
“Hmm...”
“N-Now let me go. Told you everything. Right?”
The man hummed. Seemed truthful. Nodding thoughtfully,
“Get lost.”
“G-Get lost? Wait—!”
As he turned, the man lifted the spear. Shrrk! Twisting vertically, it cleaved from chest to crown.
No scream. Blood fountained. Thud. The split corpse crumpled. Wiping blood with a handkerchief, the black man walked off.
“Complicated now.”
A hassle. Needed someone who knew Navardoje's whereabouts. But her whole clan gone? Where to start?
“...Ah.”
In thought, a human's face flashed—Ronan, was it?
Whatever his goal, likely still wandering Adren. Thought their ship-sharing ended ties.
“Might as well grab a drink...”
Murmuring, the black man departed. Sunset filtering through hangar doors lit eleven corpses.