The Rumored Black Dragon (2)
“Another ale over here!”
“When’s that meat we ordered coming out?!”
“One oat porridge and a rye bread, please!”
Guided by Hanson, Darian’s party arrived at a tavern in the territory. The moment they pushed open the creaking wooden door, a racket loud enough to tear eardrums came crashing over them.
Gryphon’s Claw.
As if absurdly cool, over-the-top names were an ironclad rule for fantasy taverns, this place’s moniker was plenty peculiar itself.
“Sh-should I… guide you somewhere else even now…?”
Hanson glanced back at Darian, fretting. Bringing the noble he served into a tavern full of shabby clothes and rough talk—was this really proper? He worried the famously temperamental Count Darian might take offense at the atmosphere and wreck not only him but the whole establishment.
“Hell yeah! This vibe’s perfect! C’mon, I’m buying you a drink—get in here!”
“Wha—?! B-but I’m still on duty…!”
“I’m treating. Who’s gonna complain?”
Contrary to Hanson’s fears, Darian looked thrilled. He slung an arm over the flustered man’s shoulder and steered him deeper inside.
“Whoa… it really feels like the Middle Ages.”
“I feel like I’ve walked straight into The Lord of the Rings.”
“Heh. You must’ve been cooped up too long. I haven’t seen my husband this excited since we arrived here.”
The others trailing after Darian had shed the gloomy faces they’d worn stuck in the carriage; now they looked around with bright, laughing eyes.
They claimed a corner table—Hanson and Darian’s party together.
Thud—
“Order?”
“Ah—n-no…! Sen! Do you have any idea who this is…?!”
The instant they sat, a woman appeared, planted her hands on their table with a solid thud, and asked for their order in the fewest words possible.
“Hmph! This is a place for meat and booze, not for sipping wine all elegant and proper. Don’t know who you lot are, but if you don’t like it I’ll kick those heavy asses of yours right out the door. Scram.”
Hanson flailed, stammering at the waitress’s rude tone. She only snorted in reply.
Sen—co-owner of Gryphon’s Claw (the other owner being her husband) and the one who handled floor service and every other chore—had run a tavern in this territory for twenty years. Her bones were thoroughly seasoned. Even if the Emperor of the Empire walked in, she would treat him exactly the same. Of course, her calculation also included the simple fact that neither emperors nor high-and-mighty nobles would ever set foot in a place like this.
“P-please… don’t be too angry… th-that is…”
Hanson fretted that the rude, faintly mocking answer would make Darian flip the whole tavern right then and there—when Darian casually overturned every expectation.
“Hahaha! She’s right! I like you, big sis.”
“‘Big sis’? I’m a married woman. Don’t get cocky.”
Darian just laughed heartily.
“Sorry. First time here—mind recommending something?”
“Drop whatever you want. I’ll bring food that matches the coin.”
“How much would this cover, then?”
Clink-clatter—
Darian’s booming laugh had taken a little of the edge off Sen. He dug a fistful of silver and copper coins from his coat and dumped them on the table.
“Ho? At first I figured some soft noble was playing peasant in a fancy hide, but you’ve got a big wallet, mister.”
“For someone who thought that, you sure didn’t hold back.”
“Hmph. If I let that kind of thing cow me, I wouldn’t last a day in this godforsaken territory! Anyway, wait. My husband’s cooking is out of this world.”
“All good—just bring the booze first!”
“Man who knows how to drink. Fine, wait.”
Sen scraped every last copper Darian had set down into her apron pocket, flashed a grin, and vanished.
“Whew…”
“C’mon, don’t sit there stiff. Relax.”
“N-no, sir! How could I…?”
Relieved the situation had somehow smoothed over, Hanson exhaled. Darian clapped him on the back.
“Just leave him be. What subordinate can ever relax in front of his superior? Especially when he got dragged here mid-shift.”
“Ah—young lady…!”
“…Tch. That so? Then drink however you like.”
Rosaria stepped in to rescue the clearly cornered Hanson; his eyes grew moist.
What soldier can ever relax in front of a general… poor guy.
Hanson’s constant flinching, startling, and trembling at every one of Darian’s moves dragged Rosaria’s own military days back up. The sudden visit from the division commander, the whole company picking every last stone out of the parade ground the day before while muttering they’d punch him in the face the moment he showed—yet the second she saw the stars on the cap of the man who just wanted to shake hands and spend time with the troops, she couldn’t even speak properly. The memory was still vivid.
“Here.”
Thud—clunk—
“Waaah?!”
Sen reappeared and set down wooden tankards so massive they could casually swallow a five-hundred-cc beer mug. Felix yelped.
The ale brimmed with frothing foam that looked ready to spill everywhere, yet it never overflowed—proof of Sen’s serving skill.
“C-can I… drink?”
“Huh? First time?”
“Yeah. First drink since I became an adult.”
Felix stared at the tankard planted in front of him, swallowed hard, and muttered, a little tense.
Freshly of age, Felix had never really sat through a proper drinking session. He’d gotten into university, but before the new semester even started he’d been dumped into another world—no freshman orientation, nothing. Tonight was his first real encounter with alcohol.
“Then you don’t have to force yourself. Right, dear—?”
“*Gulp* *gulp*… Ahhh!!!!! That’s the stuff! Why’s it so cold? And the flavor’s so rich… what’d you say?”
“*Gulp* Pahhh!! This is it! I was supposed to drink this the day I got out, and I’m only getting to it now!!”
“…Alcohol is always best in moderation. If you don’t need to drink, you don’t have to.”
“Ah, yes. It… looks that way.”
Freya had been soothing the rigid Felix and turned to Darian and Rosaria for agreement—only to find both of them already chugging ale with white foam plastered around their mouths.
Rosaria, who’d been dragged here without tasting the civilian food and drink she’d dreamed of on discharge day, and Darian, for whom a single can of beer after work had been life’s greatest joy—both tankards were already more than half gone.
“Huh? Who’s this? Hanson?”
“Oh? Berry? What are you doing here?”
A man weaving down the aisle with a tankard in one hand spotted Hanson sitting by the walkway and called out.
“Just… y’know. But who are these people?”
“Ah, well… that is…”
Hanson had never expected to run into a familiar face here. He stammered, unsure how to introduce the territory’s actual lords—when Freya, seated across from him, smoothly supplied a simple, easy excuse.
“We’re Hanson’s cousins. We were in another territory, had some business, and stopped by this one. Figured we’d say hello to Hanson while we were at it, so he guided us.”
“Ah, is that so? Pleasure. Name’s Berry.”
“I’m Freyan.”
Crisis averted in a single clean stroke.
“Anyway, what’s up? You don’t usually come around this time of year.”
“Nah, ha… you haven’t heard? Ah—am I interrupting?”
“Not at all. Speak freely. My husband and daughter are already lost in the booze anyway.”
“Big sis! Another round!”
“After that one, another!”
“Haha, quite the lively husband and daughter you’ve got. Well then, just a moment…”
Berry had been about to spill his troubles while looking at Hanson, then hesitated, worried he was imposing. Freya waved him to stay; he finally dragged over an empty chair from the next table and joined them.
“Introductions are late—I run a small outfit called the Parahan Merchant Company. …Though calling it a ‘company’ is generous. No branch offices or anything grand—just one wagon and two horses that have shared the rough trade roads with me for years. Haha! Think of me as one of the countless peddlers littering the roads.”
“Normally Evergarden Territory is just one stop on the way to the next destination, so I don’t come often. Even when I do, I grab supplies and leave right away.”
“As you know, there’s not much worth buying or selling in this territory… haha.”
“True enough. I only came because Hanson was here, but it really is a hardscrabble place.”
“.....”
Did Berry, introducing himself as a mere peddler, realize that the territory’s actual lord was sitting right in front of him, listening to his lightly joking criticism?
Freya only smiled as if it truly didn’t matter. The only face that withered was Hanson’s, trapped in the middle.
“This time, same as always, I was going to skip Evergarden and head straight for Hanoa Territory. But on the road leading into the territory I found a whole crowd of wagons stuck in place, people gathered and talking.”
“Usually that means a landslide or bandits have blocked the pass.”
“I went over to listen too… ha, honestly. Let me wet my throat a second.”
Berry gave a disbelieving little laugh and drained his ale in big gulps.
“What happened that was so…?”
“Pwah…! Well… a dragon showed up! A dragon! And a black dragon at that!”
“…Excuse me?”
The answer that came back was more than enough to wipe the smile clean off Freya’s face.
A dragon.
In fantasy, the ultimate creature, the apex of the food chain. One breath of fire and a city vanished; one footstep and the earth quaked. In the modern world they were pure fiction—yet here was Berry boldly shouting that a dragon had appeared. Freya realized she still hadn’t fully escaped her modern mindset.
“Ridiculous, right? I get it. Bandits, landslides—fine. But a dragon? Does that even make sense? I’d sooner believe the lord of Evergarden lowered taxes than believe a dragon showed up in a place like this.”
Freya’s face was hidden by her hood, but Berry, reading the same disbelief in her reply, only raised his voice higher, veins standing out on his neck.
“A black dragon… Tenebrix Nox?! The Black Flame Dragon of Ruin has appeared?!”
“Wha—?!”
Felix, who had been silently listening, shot to his feet and shouted.
Tenebrix Nox.
The strongest, most terrifying existence that had been dropping foreshadowing from the very beginning of Starlight of Dawn all the way to the end. In the novel she treated humans as less than insects—an arrogant black dragon. And the story made it abundantly clear why she could afford that arrogance.
She casually blocked the empire’s archmage’s magic and then pierced the man’s heart with a spell of her own. She snapped the imperial knight-commander’s sword with a single claw and tore him limb from limb—utterly merciless, and just as powerful. Before the final battle, the protagonist Ailen and her companions only barely managed to bring her down; limbs went flying, and the crown prince who secretly loved the heroine, along with the empire’s white dragon Lux Dies who followed him, sacrificed themselves to slay the wicked black dragon.
“That black dragon is h-here…?!”
Tenebrix Nox never actually moved until the final battle—just foreshadowing. And now she’s appeared here? Weird. Way too weird…
Knowing exactly how evil and powerful that black dragon was, Felix’s face went deathly pale.
In the novel the black dragon only got the occasional teaser until late in the story; her first real appearance was when she crashed onto the battlefield between the demon king’s army assaulting the empire and the imperial forces trying to stop them, turning everything into a slaughterhouse. For that dragon to suddenly show up near Evergarden Territory—little more than a countryside backwater compared to the imperial capital—was enough to shock Felix to his core.
“Hahaha, the young man knows a lot! But no way.”
“…What?”
Berry had been startled by Felix’s sudden outburst, but he quickly burst out laughing and pounded the table.
“The last time the black dragon Tenebrix Nox appeared was over a thousand years ago. Why would she suddenly show up near a worthless territory like this? It’s just the nonsense of some idiot merchant who tipped his wagon over by accident.”
“Th-then… why didn’t the other wagons move?”
“That… call it a merchant’s instinct?”
“Merchant’s instinct?”
“Yeah. The rumor was pure nonsense, but weirdly a lot of people claimed they’d seen it. Even at the first fork where I heard the story, the merchants who’d ‘seen’ it and the ones laughing it off were already split into two camps arguing.”
“So even if it wasn’t a dragon, something fishy was going on along that road. I came here hoping to hire some of the mercenaries working out of Evergarden Territory for an escort, just in case.”
“I see… yeah, of course… it couldn’t appear this early…”
“Just look at this tavern—it’s already packed with peddlers thinking the same thing I am, and mercenaries sniffing around after the rumor.”
“Is that so?”
Only then did Felix turn and survey the tavern’s interior.
Just as Berry said, people in all sorts of fantasy-style weapons and clothes sat drinking at every table, as if they’d wandered into a cosplay convention. Clearly most of them thought the dragon talk was nonsense and simply wanted an easy escort job for decent pay.
“The mercenary guild is right next door, so they all piled in here. I came looking for someone to hire for escort duty too.”
“Ah… I get it.”
Felix’s thoughts settled. He slowly lowered himself back into his seat.
Yeah, of course. There’s no way an actual dragon is out there.
A wild, baseless rumor.
But… what is this? This stuck, clogged feeling that won’t go away…
Even so, Felix still felt a heavy, unsettled weight lingering in one corner of his chest.