Chapter 79
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 79
Chapter Title: The Disrupted Plan (2)
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The plan had gone awry.
"H-Hunter, sir. What do we do now?"
At the soldier's terrified words, Kaban Bloodbeach quickly racked his brain.
In hunting, the most important things were improvisation and preparation.
'I've gathered everything I could.'
Weapons, supplies—everything.
To slay the monster known as a dragon, he had made every preparation imaginable.
But with two key ingredients missing, the magic scroll from Haten Silla was obviously going to produce less than half its intended effect.
'But it has to be now.'
Gritting his teeth, Kaban declared,
"...We push forward as planned."
"Hunter, sir!? You mean we're going in like this—"
"Damn it, you see that? That cave entrance!"
He grabbed the collar of the stunned soldier and pointed up at the volcano's flank.
There yawned a massive cave mouth, wide open and unobstructed.
"That thing's been sealed off by its tail for decades. For it to be sitting there so blatantly now, with no barriers at all—that's proof the beast has completely let its guard down!"
He remembered the traces of the fire spirits lingering midway up the mountain.
Most likely, it was thrilled by visitors and had grown careless.
Enraged, he bellowed,
"Chances like this don't come often! It's our one shot to enter its lair without a scratch!"
Just as natural disasters couldn't be predicted, a dragon's whims were equally unfathomable.
In other words, this was the perfect moment to march right into its heart.
The Red Dragon, entertaining the fire spirits, had no idea they were right below.
"If we miss this, there's no guarantee we'll get another! Got it!?"
"B-But what about the mind control!? That was the whole point of this hunt!"
"That's..."
For the first time, Kaban was at a loss for words.
Subduing and killing were worlds apart in difficulty.
Killing something was easy—just hack and destroy the body without a second thought.
But subduing? That was far trickier.
Pinning down a raging beast without harming it was only possible from a position of overwhelming superiority.
Let alone against a dragon—without blood magic and artifacts, it bordered on impossible.
Everything else was fine. Hunts never went perfectly according to plan anyway.
But this one aspect had to.
Kaban scowled fiercely and spat a curse.
"Goddamn it...!!"
As things stood, domination was off the table.
Killing it was the only option left.
That was when it happened.
- WHOOSH, Roooarrrr!!!
Suddenly, a massive blaze erupted from the cave entrance.
Not lava, but flames of enormous scale.
And moments later,
- Thud... Thud...
Heavy footsteps echoed as a shadow fell over the dragon expedition.
"Mnatsil...!"
The volcano's ancient master had revealed itself.
Even as time devoured it, its crimson body halted proudly atop the cliff like a sunset on the verge of night.
"H-Hiiik!!"
"It's the master of the volcano! The master has appeared!"
Awe-struck, the soldiers began to tremble and falter.
Kaban shouted swiftly,
"Down! Don't move a muscle! We can't let it spot us now!"
The soldiers hit the dirt the instant the order rang out.
Kaban followed, ducking behind a boulder.
"Of all the times, for it to show up right now, right in our faces."
The timing couldn't be worse.
The moment he'd realized the plan was in ruins, the volcano's lord appeared.
"Feels like fate itself is blocking me."
With that thought, he glared up at the majestic Red Dragon perched on the cliff.
"...Huh?"
But something was off.
Three other presences flanked Mnatsil.
"..."
He pulled a telescope from his pouch.
The first things he spotted were the two blazing pillars of fire beside the dragon.
"Fire spirits..."
As expected, the dragon's carelessness stemmed from them.
And its foreclaw cradled something precious.
"...What the hell is that?"
He adjusted the focus.
An enormous ovoid sphere.
Dotted with red spots like the scales of a Red Dragon.
Kaban Bloodbeach's eyes widened.
"No way that's..."
In his obsession with the hunt and domination, he'd overlooked one crucial fact.
"Mnatsil has laid an egg...!!!"
All living creatures had an end—and before it came, they instinctively produced heirs to carry on their will.
Dragons were no exception.
A shiver ran through him.
Beyond the thrill of the hunt, an exhilarating anticipation gripped his entire body.
'I see it.'
A new path.
The operation hadn't failed.
"Change of plans."
"Pardon? What do you mean, sir?"
Gripping tight to his spear—fashioned from a dragon's talon—he declared,
"Forget mind control! Mnatsil's worthless now. It was a dying dragon anyway. Even tamed, it wouldn't last a century."
The soldiers, faces pressed to the ground by the dragon's majesty, began to lift their heads one by one.
"Instead!"
Locking eyes with each in turn, Kaban thrust the spear high.
"We'll claim that egg for ourselves."
Something far more terrifying than brainwashing.
Turning a dragon into human property from the very start.
"Execute the operation now. We'll usher in the age of man—with our own hands!"
Meanwhile, in the upper reaches of the active volcano.
Three beings stepped out onto the cliff's edge for some air, at the spirits' complaints about the stuffy cave interior.
"The more I hear, the more fascinating it gets."
Mnatsil grinned widely, then snapped her jaws shut.
She had spent hours listening to tales from the spirits' wanderings across the world.
Recalling the most intriguing anecdote, she asked,
"Where did you say that human is?"
[In the Crossroad Kingdom, at the heart of the Urakaras Mountains. That's the sixth time you've asked! Senility must've taken your hearing too!]
"Ah, forgive me. Such an unusual name—it stuck with me. I wanted to hear it once more."
She bared her teeth in another grin.
Crossroad.
A place where lines converged, as the name implied.
And those lines represented races.
Humans, elves, werewolves, quarter-krakens, dwarves, golems—even the inferior blood of her own kind, dragonkin.
"A nation founded by humans, yet teeming with all manner of creatures living together. A first among dragonkind."
She murmured as she caressed her unnamed heir.
"And that... Central Officer. What was his name again?"
[Nathan Kell. No idea what it means.]
"Right. Nathan Kell..."
An awkward name on a dragon's tongue.
She turned her gaze downslope.
Toward the tiny village at the volcano's base.
"Pathetic humans have always looked up at us with jealous eyes."
She had her share of experiences with them.
But they were always worshippers calling her a 'monster' or 'master of the volcano,' or thieves after her lair's treasures.
They sang of destruction—their only language.
Acting as if they owned the world, rejecting and lording over all non-humans.
"To think there's one commendable soul trying to live as part of the world."
According to the fire spirits, the Central Officer was a curious one.
Fluently speaking other races' tongues first, humbling himself to elevate others.
A novel sensation.
"What sort of being is this Nathan Kell? What short life has he led?"
Pure curiosity welled up.
Mana-less meant unfit for this world.
Yet this one spoke every language, even quelling the fire spirits' rage.
A truly new tale, even after a millennium.
Mnatsil pondered briefly, then murmured softly,
"If he knows no barriers of language... perhaps he could converse with me."
She spoke Spirit Tongue now, but there was one language she hadn't used in ages.
Draconic.
A tongue infused with power.
Though frailty now prevented its casual use, it once bent the world's laws when dragons ruled the skies.
Could a human wield it?
The fire spirit nodded.
[I think so. Not sure if that frail human body could withstand it, though.]
"We'll see. So, what does he look like? Describe his appearance—let's see."
[Well...]
The spirit described him meticulously, based on their aesthetic senses.
Listening intently, she nodded.
"Hm. Like this, then..."
She raised a talon and scratched at the stone floor.
Soon, a fine portrait emerged.
Satisfied, she grinned toothily.
"This is him, right?"
[Humans don't have tails.]
"...Ahem."
She redrew it.
- Scratch scratch.
"How about now? I think it's quite close to what you described."
[Male humans have flat chests. That's a female.]
"How was I supposed to know that! These mammals are far too complicated."
Mnatsil scowled and huffed flames at the ground.
"Bah, forget it."
The Red Dragon slumped at the cliff's edge.
She desperately wanted to meet this human who had ignited such curiosity.
But she couldn't leave.
This precious egg needed to stay in the volcano.
To absorb pure fire essence in this mana-rich blaze.
Visiting the Central Officer meant forsaking that vital chance.
"Could you just bring that Nathan Kell here? If I offer ample reward, might he come?"
[If you wish, we'll mention it.]
"Really? Then I'll give you prime charcoal for four winters, free of charge!"
That was when it happened.
- Twitch.
Something stirred at her tail's tip.
An alien vibration.
"...Seems I've left the cave mouth unguarded too long."
With a glance from Mnatsil, the fire spirits tensed and swelled their flames.
- Roarrr.
The cave interior blazed bright.
"Today's guests were supposed to be just you spirits. Who dares enter my lair?"
She glowered at the shadowed nook by the entrance.
A reply came.
"Master of the volcano."
The most stereotypical human stepped from the darkness.
Yet he differed slightly from any she'd seen.
Clad in armor of dragon scales, wielding a spear from a trimmed talon.
Mnatsil sighed deeply.
"Ah. One who builds renown from my kin's corpses. How trite."
No matter how novel beings emerged, the banal and one-dimensional followed.
"I'm being devoured by time anyway. Spare your life and wait. You'll claim my body soon enough."
She flapped her wings dismissively, bored.
'These types never change, no matter the era.'
She wanted one thing only.
For this egg to hatch, become the new master of the volcano, and live as a true dragon.
If she could witness that, she cared not what came after her death.
"No, you're meaningless now. Senile dragon."
But the insignificant human sneered and shook his head.
"No one cares about dying myths anymore. What I want is..."
Kaban slowly raised his spear, pointing at Mnatsil.
No—slightly lower. Between her forelegs.
The dragon's eyes followed the tip.
A chill made her scales bristle.
"Your offspring."
The spear aimed at Mnatsil's egg.
The dragon spread her wings and roared.
"You bastard!!!"
At the same instant, the human shouted,
"Now!!! Fire!"
"What!?"
- Screeeeech... Thwoosh!
Directly below her perch on the cliff, a camouflaged ballista unleashed its massive bolt.
- Pierced wing!
Mithril-tipped bolt embeds deep
- Whiiiish, thunk!
It flew straight, embedding in the aged dragon's right wing.
A scream of agony.
Impossible. A mere iron bolt harming a dragon?
But Mnatsil realized how this impossibility had occurred.
"Mithril!?"
The arrowhead, the only metal to pierce dragon scales, gleamed wet with blood.
Kaban, gripping his spear, bellowed,
"The hunt begins!"