More Precious Than Gold (3)

"So it seems safe to assume that the lady here—ah, forgive me. That the dragonewt among us has resolved to remain at the Central Officer's side after all," Hailin said, summarizing the situation in Incansus's stead, for he was still outside, staring blankly up at the sky.

"That is so. This place is now the nest of myself and the Central Officer, after all."

Menassil swished her tail against the floor, tap tap, as though she had finally grasped what was being said. At the sight of it, Hailin smiled a complicated smile.

"Then from this moment on, you must prepare for every eventuality."

"Every eventuality? What do you mean?"

She turned her head and looked at me.

"You know it well enough. You know why the Gold Rush truly began."

Know it? I knew it all too well.

"There are those pulling strings behind the scenes for their own purposes."

"And this time, we can't find any."

"I beg your pardon?"

I echoed back in surprise. The Gold Rush had no hidden hand behind it?

"Then... you're telling me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this whole situation really did erupt from nothing but a rumor?"

"Unfortunately, that is how it must be read for now. But at the same time, it is the most dangerous scenario possible for those of us here. Because failing to find a hidden hand means one of two things."

Her expression turned grave.

"One. A force with investigative capabilities far surpassing our own Intelligence Department is hiding somewhere, sealed up tight. Or two. It wasn't any organization at all—an individual, or a small group, spread the rumor themselves."

She held up two fingers, then pointed them straight out the window.

"There is no such thing as coincidence in this world, Central Officer. Even a single grain of sand carried on the wind has its own cause and effect."

The second cardinal rule of the Immigration Officer. I murmured it along with her under my breath.

"...There are no coincidences."

Every incident, every act of terror, never happens 'by accident.'

They erupt only after evidence upon evidence, sign upon sign, circumstance upon suspicion have piled up and up until they can no longer hold.

"And if this truly was the work of a single individual or a small faction, then their goal isn't mere profit."

I understood at once what she was getting at. Most ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠people in this world move, consciously or not, dragged along by greed and desire.

But there are those who don't.

Faith. Conviction. Revenge. Those consumed by such things do not behave rationally—and I had seen living proof of it more times than I cared to count. The Holy Church, with its Pope at the helm. The Evil God Cult, which had cursed its own followers to death without hesitation. Even the Queen Consort, who had taken vengeance on an innocent girl for her daughter's sins. There was no guarantee anywhere in the world that men like them would not appear again.

"...So who could it be?"

What were they hoping to accomplish by igniting the Gold Rush?

The answer came from a place I never expected.

"Until now, it could not be known."

It was Incansus, who had finally recovered his composure and returned inside.

"But from what our Ancestor has just told us, a shape has begun to emerge."

"And that shape is... who, exactly?"

At my question, the Royal Proxy fell silent for a long moment. Then he ground the words out as though chewing on stone.

"The Dragon Hunter."

- A flinch.

And at the sound of that name, Menassil silently drew the egg closer to her chest.

Right—now that I thought of it, the reason she had been driven to the very brink of death was that man, wasn't it.

"But didn't he... die?"

"Being buried in sand and ash does not mean being forgotten, Central Officer. And so long as he wears the dracari's own scale-armor, fire can do him no harm. Frankly, believing him dead would be the stranger conclusion."

The revelation left me speechless for a while.

The Dragon Hunter's survival. That truly, truly was something I had never anticipated.

But if this suspicion proved correct, then the fact that Menassil was still alive and whole, without any incident since, bordered on a miracle. This was the human who had driven a mithril arrowhead into her very heart.

'A hunter who fails his kill never simply goes home.'

That was the way of the world. And what if he had let slip a dragon—ancient race, living legend of myth—right at the moment of the catch? He would tear the whole world apart searching. For a corpse, for a shred of scale, for anything at all.

"...We need a plan."

We had to be ready.

"Do you have a method in mind?"

At Hailin's question, I turned the problem over slowly in my head.

"If we reinforce the guard contingent, it'll draw every eye in the region. I think we're better off strengthening the existing garrison and taking individual, targeted measures."

Our current situation was a single wagon loaded to the brim with precious metals rolling straight through a den of bandits. By sheer luck, the unprecedented chaos of the Gold Rush meant nobody was paying us any attention for the moment—but the instant even one person glanced our way, we would become a target.

'The master of the collapsed volcano is alive, and she is at the Crossline Kingdom's southern border—along with her egg.'

That was a sentence more dangerous, more unpredictable, than the Gold Rush itself. A dragon's sheer presence was simply that overwhelming.

There was only one thing to do in a moment like this.

Conceal the mountain, hide the forest. Minimum personnel, maximum fortification, positioned at the optimal time and place.

"Besides, Lady Menassil is no longer alone. While the egg remains, we must be more careful than ever."

Everyone's gaze turned to the egg cradled in Menassil's arms.

"We cannot leave this place. Neither Lady Menassil nor myself."

She had to stay for the egg's sake. And I, by the very nature of my office, was bound to the South. And with her refusing to go to the Royal Castle, Incansus's protection would reach its limits. So I set down the fundamental premise first.

"Every defense must be prepared here, in the South."

Hailin nodded along.

"In that case, it may be wise to draw on the Margrave's forces. The Southern Immigration Office does sit within his territory, after all."

A reasonable proposal. Moving troops within one's own domain raised no legal complications whatsoever. Besides, the Southern Border didn't press directly against the Mahalan Kingdom, our nearest neighbor—a great plain lay between us—so there was no chance of the movement being read as a show of force. And I still remembered how impressed I'd been by his organizational power and execution back when we arrested the changeling.

"It seems we're hardly in a position to be choosy about help. But we cannot reveal Lady Menassil's identity."

"Leave that to this officer. We need only say that the flood of migrants from the Gold Rush has made maintaining order difficult."

Hailin conjured up a plausible justification in the space of a breath. I picked up where she left off.

"The good news is that Elle—the Princess, and Erzena are both here with us right now."

Divine Holy Power and psychokinesis had helped us countless times already, and I had no doubt they'd remain a formidable asset going forward. The two of them had, after all, pulled a dragon back from death's very door.

But this time, Incansus shook his head.

"There is one thing to bear in mind. Erzena is currently being hunted by her own Church with desperation bordering on madness—their internal situation is said to be deeply unstable as well. And the Princess operates under a sealed royal command; if her identity comes to light, the Royal Castle will inevitably be forced to act in response."

The problem was that both of them were compromised the moment they were exposed to the world.

'Damn it. Of course there'd be constraints like that.'

Which meant Erzena and Elaine became cards we could only play in a truly final, last-resort scenario.

'The Margrave's guards alone won't be enough. We need people whose very presence is a stronger deterrent.'

And then, one ideal candidate surfaced in my mind.

"There's... one more friend who can help us."

"Such a being exists?"

Our most dependable ally, and the one friend who knew how to keep silent.

I turned my head slowly toward the window as I spoke.

"We must wake the Border Guard Captain."

It was time to rouse the stone statue that had been frozen stiff outside our door.

- Vvvvmmm.

At last, a strange blue light began to swirl within the mana core of the golem who had stood frozen on the street like some colossal statue. Incansus, having breathed a light stream of mana into him, completed the ritual and spoke.

"Awaken."

- Ggggrrrk.

Light kindled slowly in the golem's eyes as the Border Guard Captain rose from his one-knee crouch for the first time in two days.

He recognized the three of us immediately and snapped into a salute. As he moved, the moss and dust that had draped his shoulders came showering down.

I spoke, packing two days' worth of guilt into the words.

"Captain. Forgive me for leaving you like that for two whole days."

Of course he's a golem. The handover protocol was flawless. But something was off. In place of his usual calm, emotionless bearing, he was scanning our surroundings ceaselessly, as though searching for something.

Illegal entry. Reptilian entity. The moment I heard those words, I knew exactly what they meant—because behind me, Menassil murmured them in a voice full of sorrow. "A reptilian..."

"Captain. We have decided that entity is no longer to be regarded as an illegal entrant. There is another matter I would bring to you."

He brushed off my words with a single stroke and stepped forward, raising his greatsword high and craning his head to sweep the streets in every direction for the dragon. His stubbornness was so absolute, so utterly shameless, that an awkward laugh burst out of me before I could stop it.

'He must have been furious about what happened that day.'

Well, fair enough—if a dragon had smashed straight through your defense magic and left you conscious but immobilized for two days straight, you'd be angry too.

That was when it happened.

"Forgive me. I meant to release you quickly enough, but the circumstances would not allow it."

Menassil stepped forward and addressed the golem directly.

"I am the one. The 'illegal-entry reptilian entity' who cast the stasis spell upon you that day—was me."

An honest confession, laid bare without embellishment. But the Captain merely tilted his head, and slowly lowered his sword.

He coolly dismantled her claim—and then, turning his head away, dismissed her from his interest entirely. Menassil simply stared up at him, dazed.

"So... this proves it once more. That the strength left to me is nothing at all."

Only after a long silence did she murmur those words, flat and toneless. At the sight of her, Incansus hurried to her side.

"Ancestor. There must surely be a way to restore your power."

"Fret not. What use is longing for what has already departed? It would be better... to cherish what I have newly gained, would it not?"

"..."

Menassil had, it seemed, accepted everything completely. The Royal Proxy regarded her for a moment, then turned to the golem.

"Border Guard Captain Golem 312-56. By the authority of the Royal Proxy, I issue you a command."

"Include the woman standing here among your protection details."

"...Equal to the Princess."

And that was that. As though nothing had happened at all, the golem turned without a trace of sentiment and marched off toward the ramparts where his unit stood. Why was it that his brusque, duty-obsessed back, walking away from us, was somehow the most reassuring thing I'd seen all day?

Watching him go, I murmured, "Well... the minimum preparations are complete."

But someone immediately raised a rebuttal.

"No. This alone will not suffice."

It was Menassil.

"The Dragon Hunter wears the corpse of my own kin as armor. His weapons are wrought from fang and claw. Every piece of them carries the power to nullify magic."

She looked down at the egg for a moment, then went on softly.

"One thing more... we will need a trump card."

Then she pointed a finger straight at me.

"And you, Nathan Kell, must become that card."

"...You mean this officer?"

What on earth was this about now? Me? A trump card?

"...Ancestor. Do you expect the Central Officer to fight?"

Even Incansus sounded baffled, and pressed her again.

"He is far too unseasoned to serve as a champion who fights in your stead. Rather, I would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠counsel making use of his organizational talent and gift for planning—"

"No. Is there not one thing? The power to speak every language."

But Menassil shook her head.

"With that ability, he can master even tongues that bend the laws of the world itself."

"...!!! Ancestor, surely you don't mean—!"

Incansus grasped her meaning and cried out in alarm. And Menassil finished her declaration.

"Nathan Kell. Will you learn the Dragon Word?"

Two weeks later, at the collapsed western volcano site.

The desert-man who led the survey team looked down over the excavation grounds—now nearly finished—and beamed from ear to ear.

"Hahaha! Magnificent! To think this plan would actually work!"

He clapped a shoulder of the man in the fire-scorched armor.

"Who could have guessed it would go exactly as you said? Seventy percent of the entire volcano zone has already been cleaned up. In a mere two weeks!"

Just as he said, the volcanic zone had all but fully recovered; the stretches once swallowed by ash and lava had been almost entirely reclaimed. The leader, his voice brimming with excitement, kept going.

"Brilliant, simply brilliant. Plant the rumor that the dracari's nest collapsed along with the volcano and its treasures lie exposed—then while those fools dig in all the wrong places, we need only excavate the one spot you pointed to. No money spent, no orders given. It's as if you cast some spell on the hearts of men!"

At that, the armored man—who had been gazing down at the dig site this whole time—finally opened his mouth.

"Naturally. Desire is the greatest engine that moves a human being."

"Ha! Desire. Remarkable. I should have known the moment I saw that armor of yours. Now I finally understand how you pinpointed the buried dracari nest with such devilish accuracy."

The leader shot him a look brimming with admiration. "The dracari hunter."

Kaban Vladbich. He gave a slight shrug.

- Thud.

The leader set a huge bundle down in front of Kaban. Through the gap left carelessly ajar, treasure of every description threw off a dazzling blaze of light.

"Here's your share. That's after setting aside the price of your life, mind you. Unlike those idiots digging bare earth over there, all of this is ours."

But Kaban didn't spare so much as a glance for the bundle the size of his own body. He swept his eyes over the volcano once more and asked,

"Any other news?"

"You want better news than this? Greedy to the bone, aren't you."

"Not that. I asked whether there was news—something other than trinkets like these."

"At least tell me what it is you're looking for, man. Let my people repay the debt we owe you."

At those words, Kaban finally turned his gaze on the desert-man.

"...Ugh!"

The moment he saw Kaban's face, the man flinched and hastily looked away. The left eye and everything above it—nearly half of his head—had been melted into something monstrous by molten rock.

"..."

Through his hollow, empty socket and his intact right eye, Kaban stared the leader down. And in the man's face, the Dragon Hunter recognized the same thing he saw in all the witless fools digging below. Greed. He loathed these idiots—who chased nothing but gold—with every fiber of his being, and he spat out, briefly:

"Something greater than gold."

If treasure and gold bought a hundred years of happiness, what he sought would buy a thousand years of renown.

"That which will open the true Age of Man."

With those words, Kaban turned his head away again. It was already the sixteenth day. Thanks to the fools who had swarmed in beyond all imagining, the disaster zone was all but restored. And Kaban himself had already combed the entire volcanic zone thoroughly six times over. And yet, even so, that revolting dragon—no corpse, not so much as a single scale of her—could not be found anywhere.

'To find the egg, I must find the volcano's master.'

Which was to say, Menassil might still be alive—and might have fled somewhere far away with her egg in tow. If that were the case, every hour spent at this volcano would turn to dust.

'Damn it all. Where in the world did she go?'

There were too many possibilities. Winged things were bound by no mountain range; they could fly anywhere on earth.

That was when it happened.

"No, I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes! That dawn, a shadow the size of a house suddenly crossed the sky and blotted out the moon!"

An agitated voice struck Kaban's ear—accompanied by words he could not possibly overlook.

Kaban sprinted over in an instant and seized a fat man mid-rant by the collar.

"You there."

"Eh? EEEAAAH! Wh-who are you!?"

The moment the chubby man, collared without warning, saw Kaban's face, he nearly fainted on the spot.

"Tell me. In detail. What did you see?"

"I-I was looking at the sky before dawn, and there was this enormous shadow, and then all at once there was a flash of light—"

A shadow vast enough to swallow the heavens. A blaze of light in the dead of night. Something enormous, flying through the sky, using magic. That meant only one thing. Unable to contain himself, Kaban roared:

"When? WHERE?"

"T-two weeks ago! In the Crossline Kingdom! I saw it in the Crossline Kingdom!"

The Crossline Kingdom.

At last, a chilling smile spread across Kaban Vladbich's ruined face.

"...Found you."

Menassil's whereabouts had finally been revealed. And where the mother is, the egg is sure to be.

- Snap.

He released the collar he'd been clutching and turned his steps at once toward the east.

"Wh-where are you going, man?"

"My business here is finished. Divide the gold among yourselves, or cut each other's throats for all of it—suit yourselves."

"And that wound of yours still hasn't healed! You need rest!"

The desert-man had a point. I, too, had paid an eye in that battle.

'But I already drove a mithril arrowhead into her heart.'

This was a race against time. Quite literally a contest between himself and a dragon's death. O master of the volcano. Even at your full strength you could not kill me—wounded as you are, what could you possibly do to me? And so, before time finds you first, I will become your end, and close the age of myth. For the only man fit to claim that glory is I myself.

Imagining himself claiming the dead dragon's egg, Kaban burst into wild laughter.

"The heavens aid me! The world itself clears my path!"

The hunt was not over. Only the second act was beginning.

But there was one thing he had overlooked.

Namely: prey that survives a hunter once prepares for the second strike more thoroughly than anything else in this world.