Dragon (1)
Even though this was only our second meeting, the same thought crossed my mind every time I laid eyes on her: she was absurdly, incomprehensibly massive. An ant standing before an elephant must have felt something like this. Add to that an overwhelming, charismatic aura, and the sheer pressure radiating from her was suffocating.
It was difficult to even part my lips, but since we weren't complete strangers, I managed to squeeze out a greeting.
"Ah, h-hello...?"
I raised a hand in an awkward, quiet wave. In response, a pair of fierce golden eyes locked directly onto me.
I wish she'd at least say something. A gorilla talking was one thing—gorillas were primates, close enough to humans—but a dragon was a completely different story.
"Ppiii! Ppiiii!"
Regardless of my frozen panic, Tyrano burst into pure joy the moment he spotted his mother. Flapping his tiny wings furiously, he fluttered up and clung right onto her snout, nuzzling against her scales in sheer bliss. He was at the age where he adored his mother more than anything in the world. The mother dragon's fierce expression softened the instant she confirmed her hatchling was safe and sound. The harsh slant of her eyes relaxed, and the corners of her massive maw curved upward into what anyone could recognize as a warm smile.
"Hmm! An extraordinarily powerful individual, even among dragons," Cain remarked. "It would be wise not to provoke her."
I can tell that with one glance. If she brought that foreleg down on me, I'd be squashed like a bug.
Perhaps having heard Cain's voice, the mother dragon shifted her gaze toward him.
"..."
She dismissed him instantly. Standing far smaller than me as a miniature stone statue, he probably barely registered as a blip in her vision. Cain merely shrugged, unfazed, and spoke again.
"In the distant past, dragons could take on the form of humans as well," Cain said. "In essence, they were considered a humanoid race in their own right. Of course, that is ancient history now."
"You're talking about Polymorph, right?"
"Indeed. Whatever else was permitted, Lady Aris took measures against Polymorph so that they could no longer mingle among humans."
"Why would she do that?"
"Because they were far too powerful. When every single individual possesses power surpassing that of a strategic weapon, such measures are only natural."
It was a remarkably convincing argument. Imagine if a walking, sentient thermonuclear bomb strolled around disguised as an ordinary citizen.
In some ways, this world is shockingly pragmatic.
In countless fantasy stories, dragons casually wandered through mortal society using Polymorph, but evidently, that wasn't an option here. Then again, this was a world where vast disparities in individual power made even democracy feel like an illusion. The sovereign beastkin empire of Wyd was said to have established a form of democracy, but in reality, it was half-baked at best.
Setting that aside...
I looked at the dragon as she bonded with Tyrano. More precisely, I looked beneath her face. Down beneath her long, elegant neck, a brilliant golden light pulsed with rhythmic brilliance. It was the location of her heart.
An authentic Dragon Heart really is on another level.
Usually, the magical glow that caught my eye lacked distinct structure—it looked like clusters of scattered stardust clinging to surfaces, or a diffuse, steady luminescence. But the Dragon Heart was different. It looked as though countless points of starlight had condensed into a singular, tangible shape, radiating immense, concentrated power. It hadn't earned the legendary title of 'Dragon Heart' for nothing.
So, is Tyrano leaving now?
As the mother dragon softened her demeanor, the oppressive tension in the clearing melted away. The animals, who had been trembling in terror moments before, quietly slipped back inside the house—with two notable exceptions: Bbarmbo and the Golden Apple Deer. Heaven only knew what gave those two the nerve, but they strolled around outside as bold as brass. The deer in particular was nonchalantly grazing on grass, exuding inexplicable confidence.
Rustle—
Having finished greeting Tyrano, the dragon turned her massive head toward me. The moment those slit golden pupils locked onto mine, a shiver shot down my spine. Even though I had braced myself, staring into the eyes of an apex predator was impossible to get used to. If she harbored any hostility toward me, I would have already been—
—I offer my gratitude, human.
"...?"
...Dead meat. Wait, what was that?
I stood dumbfounded as a voice echoed directly inside my head rather than through my ears. It carried a deep, resonant rumble, reverberating as if spoken inside a vast cavern. What kind of trick was this? When I glanced at the others, they looked just as startled. Even Ludwig, normally the picture of stoic composure, was craning his neck and looking around in confusion.
"Ah, she is transmitting Telepathic Intent," Cain explained. "There is no need for alarm. That is simply how dragons converse."
"...Dragons actually talk?"
"Why wouldn't they? Dragons are supreme masters of magic. Furthermore, through Telepathic Intent, no interpreter is required. She directly interprets the meaning behind your spoken words and thoughts."
"Then why don't dragons outside the Forest of the Four Seasons—"
I cut myself off mid-sentence, realizing upon second thought how foolish the question was. In the first place, dragons were mythical, extraordinarily rare beings; no one even knew where they made their lairs. The dragon Kadir had slain in the past was an exception driven mad with rage over losing her child. Besides, it wasn't like I had researched them thoroughly.
If I asked around on the Gallery, I'd probably just get vague rumors like 'I heard dragons are like this...' More importantly, this was the Forest of the Four Seasons. If giant gorillas could speak the human tongue, why couldn't a dragon communicate mentally? It was best to just accept it. In fact, this might be a monumental opportunity. Through her, I might learn secrets of this world I never had access to before. And having protected Tyrano all winter, I was currently sitting on an immense reserve of goodwill.
"Uh... hello? I'm Park Jong—no, call me Grylls."
—Just call me Vadir.
So she had a name. It sounded fittingly draconic. Which meant Tyrano probably had a real name too... except I had already gone and named him whatever I pleased. Worse, Tyrano fully believed his own name was Tyrano. If Vadir found out, she'd have every right to blow her lid.
—Did my child cause you any trouble?
"Well... no? He played well with everyone. If anything, I should be the one apologizing..."
—It matters not. The little one seems quite fond of the name. As a mother, naming him should have been my first duty, yet I postponed even that to prepare against an impending threat.
She was remarkably reasonable—a truly civilized dragon. Honestly, I was a little touched. Our first encounter had been living terror incarnate, but she was surprisingly gentle and gracious. A heavy weight lifted off my chest, though I couldn't afford to let my guard down entirely. The gap in our power was like heaven and earth; I had to stay sharp and maintain proper etiquette.
—Besides, seeing how plump my child has grown, you must have fed him well. As his mother, I am deeply pleased.
I mostly just stuffed him with sweet potatoes. Naturally, I kept that part to myself. Every single day at snack time, Tyrano gorged himself on sweet potatoes until his belly grew round and soft. Not that he was the only one—all the animals had packed on a solid layer of fat over the winter.
"You entrusted him to my care, so that was only natural," I replied.
Otherwise, you would've turned me into ash. I swallowed the trailing thought. Fortunately, she didn't read that particular impulse, and her expression warmed with a gentle smile.
—Then I suppose I may leave him in your care a while longer.
"Excuse me?"
The news struck like a bolt from the blue. Leave him with me longer? It wasn't that I considered Tyrano a burden; I simply couldn't fathom why. Reading the bafflement on my face, Vanir explained.
—A few days ago, I fought a bloody battle against an intruder who dared breach my lair. I drove the beast off, but its venom has spread throughout my flesh.
"Then..."
—It will not kill me. However, I must enter a prolonged slumber to recuperate. I forced myself awake early only out of concern for my child...
Vanir turned her massive head to gaze upon Tyrano. With his belly visibly protruding from a winter of indulgence, the hatchling tilted his head in curiosity.
—Seeing him now, I have nothing left to worry about. Once again, you have my deepest gratitude.
"How long will you need to rest?"
—Though I neutralized the worst of it by consuming the fiend's core essence, I must greet the morning sun at least a hundred times before I fully recover.
At least a hundred days. And in reality, it could take far longer.
"Oof. Hup, hup."
Whether Tyrano understood the situation or not, he began scrambling up my clothes with clumsy enthusiasm, finally settling down right on top of my head. His antics were undeniably adorable. Watching him, Vanir gave a soft, draconic chuckle before addressing me again.
—Therefore, speak what your heart desires. If there is nothing you wish for immediately, I shall grant it once I awaken.
"What I need most is information. Do you happen to know a way out of this forest?"
An escape route trumped every other reward. If I could secure a way home, gold and treasures were utterly meaningless. Moreover, Vanir had resided in the Forest of the Four Seasons for an eternity. Even if she didn't possess a complete map of the terrain, she was bound to know which zones were lethal and which were safe.
—A way out... In that case, I must ask you a few questions. First.
Vanir stared intently into my eyes before posing her initial question.
—Can you execute several dozen complex calculations simultaneously within ten seconds?
"Calculations...?"
—I speak of the formulaic equations necessary for sorcery. Are you capable of this?
"...No?"
Even the Starlight Princess, a verified once-in-a-century genius, would likely struggle with that. Explaining a simple flame through the fundamental laws of physics was considered basic magic here. To demand dozens of parallel calculations from a guy who abandoned magic theory the second he heard that was pure madness.
—Then the second question. What are the human units of distance? Give me the largest standard you use.
"Roughly speaking, this span is one meter, and a thousand meters make one kilometer," I explained, drawing lines in the dirt with my toe.
Vanir stared pensively at the marks, then nodded in comprehension.
—Then hear my question: can you traverse several thousand kilometers within a single hour?
"...No."
—The final question. Are you capable of subjugating countless catastrophic beasts on par with myself?
"...No."
—Then the answer is clear. You cannot leave, so it would be gentler on your spirit to abandon the idea.
You're stuck here forever. An actual ancient dragon had just certified it. Rather than despair, I felt an overpowering wave of absurdity. Having it flatly declared impossible somehow only stirred up my stubbornness. Taking a deep breath to gather my thoughts, I tentatively made a request.
"Could... could you perhaps help me, Lady Vanir?"
—For your reference, I satisfy all three conditions, yet I too am incapable of leaving this place.
"..."
Well, holy shit. A string of curses nearly spilled past my lips. No wonder she hadn't left for the outside world. From a dragon's perspective, living anywhere out there had to be paradise compared to this hellhole. But if that was the case, why was Vanir here at all? That was equally baffling.
"Then how did you end up trapped in here?"
—I entered against my will. It was one of the conditions imposed by the invaders.
"...Invaders?"
—Indeed. They offered a choice: live outside stripped of our dignity like common wild beasts, or preserve our society intact within this domain.
A tale from the mythological era. I stood there, bewildered, unable to grasp the full scope of what she meant.
—Originally, we were able to mingle freely among mortal humans. We often referred to it as our 'pastime.'
"Most of the legendary heroes who left monumental footprints in the Dragon Era were, in truth, dragons partaking in their mortal pastimes," Cain chimed in from the side, adding historical context.
From what I could gather, dragons had subsequently suffered defeat in a war against the gods. But what happened afterward? What cruel terms had been dictated to the defeated dragons? Wait, before even considering that...
Just how ancient was Vanir? She possessed vivid, firsthand memories of the mythic age. Furthermore, the 'invaders' she spoke of were undoubtedly the gods. People didn't usually call gods 'invaders'—what in the world did she mean by that?
—My kin dwell scattered across various sectors of this forest. Do you know of places where space shifts from moment to moment?
"Yes. The area Across the River is like that."
—Those fissures mark the boundaries dividing our territories. However, given the nature of this forest, entities far stronger than us inhabit the desolate zones.
"By desolate zones, do you mean places like deserts, snowy peaks, or volcanic regions?"
—No. Those are legitimate facets of nature; they are not desolate zones.
Just how utterly ruined did an area have to be for an active volcanic biome not to qualify as 'desolate'? I recalled seeing a place drenched in unnatural sickly-green radiance that looked like a radioactive wasteland—maybe that was one of them. Or perhaps the Ash Zone right next door. I'd find out eventually as I explored.
—Hmm. It is time I conserved my strength.
Vanir muttered softly under her breath while I was lost in thought. When I turned my eyes back toward her—
Flash!
A blinding radiance enveloped her massive frame, and her silhouette began to shrink rapidly. Her body, initially far larger than a multi-story building, compressed inward until she stood smaller than an ordinary tree. Her physiology shifted dramatically as well, morphing from a four-legged reptilian titan into an upright bipedal form standing proudly on two feet.
W-Wait, don't tell me...?
Cain had said that dragons of the mythic age were capable of Polymorph. Whether Vanir belonged to that ancient era or not, one thing was undeniable: she was polymorphing right now. A spark of secret anticipation flared up inside me.
In almost every fantasy novel, polymorphed dragons are breathtaking beauties...
With an oddly hopeful heart, I stared eagerly at Vanir's emerging humanoid form.
—Mm. As expected, shrinking the frame is far more energy-efficient.
"..."
—Why are you looking at me with such an expression?
Standing before me was a muscular human torso capped with the full, scaly head of a dragon, complete with horns and a thick tail dragging behind. I couldn't conceal the utter disillusionment written across my face.
...Fantasy is just fantasy after all.
Reality was ruthless.