Come Visit Me Yourself

She laughed.

"This is so weird."

I couldn't make sense of it no matter how long I stared at Haring, crumpled in the corner of the nest and bawling her eyes out.

The treasure vault held mountains of treasure I'd gathered over three hundred years of life, plus everything that had come before me. Among it all were national treasures of entire kingdoms, sacred relics, and weapons that went by names like "legendary."

It wasn't as if she had no eye for quality. If she'd just grabbed one proper piece, she could have passed for a halfway decent hero.

And yet she'd gone and picked a training sword—the kind of thing lying around by the dozens.

I'd given her chance after chance to swap it out, but her resolve had been so stubbornly firm that I'd just let her take it.

"My legendary… give me back my legendaryyyyy…"

Watching her whine for a replacement now was the funny part.

I kept an eye on Haring as she bashed her head against the nest wall, then turned my gaze toward the heroes still fighting the golem.

They'll figure out their own training eventually.

When is that reply going to get here, anyway?

Even accounting for delays, it should have been delivered by now…

"Don't tell me he died?"

"Haaah…"

Haring closed the gallery and stood up from her seat.

For about two days straight she had wallowed in extreme regret over her choice, trying every angle she could think of to swap it for a Legendary weapon.

But every single time, the answer that came back was the same: No.

That girl-dragon of indeterminate age had zero intention of exchanging the weapon. If anything, she just grinned that little grin of hers, as if she were teasing her on purpose.

Incredibly cute—and paradoxically, a brat you really wanted to smack upside the head.

Haring's hands trembled, but there was nothing she could do. In the end, only one option remained.

The golem.

The thing most of the heroes currently in the nest were challenging. Land a solid hit on the golem and earn a one-time pass to the treasure vault.

Haring gripped the Elder Dragon Sword and strode forward to throw down her challenge.

A low hum filled the air.

The golem, having already knocked out countless heroes, raised its arm with smug confidence.

On any normal day she wouldn't have stood a chance—wouldn't have dared even touch it. But today's Haring was different.

The letter-delivery quest had bumped her level up considerably, and since she'd been on the road anyway, she'd finished her second class advancement while she was at it.

Factor in three titles plus the Elder Dragon Sword's all-stat boost, and Haring's raw specs were practically double-digit ranker tier!

She sprinted faster than anyone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else in the nest and slammed a strike into the golem's right arm.

And then—

"Ghk!"

A fist caught her square and sent her flying.

"Commander."

"Still no audience today, I take it."

"That is correct."

"This is a matter of importance. Did you convey that point to His Majesty without fail?"

"Yes. Even so, he instructed us to wait."

"…Understood."

The royal villa of the Legion Kingdom.

It was called a villa, but in truth the place was large enough to rival a castle of its own—and within it lived the hero of the world, the retired former emperor.

Adella had come to the villa every single day seeking an audience with the former emperor, and today, once again, she had to turn back for reasons beyond her control.

"This is serious. I must deliver the letter to him as soon as possible."

It had been sent by the exalted Fire Dragon herself—Lea. Whatever it contained was surely of great importance. A matter that could touch not only the kingdom but perhaps the very balance of the world.

She needed to deliver the letter and send back a reply as quickly as humanly possible.

But no matter how hard Adella tried, gaining an audience with a retired emperor was no simple task.

A "retired" emperor meant someone who took little interest in the affairs of the kingdom—or the world at large. He simply let the remainder of his life flow by in peace, like water.

"Haaah…"

Her footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"What has the Commander of the Knights sighing so heavily?"

"I fear my own shortcomings are causing this matter to go awry."

"Is that so? From where I stand, you seem to be doing rather well."

"…If that were true, I would not be turning away at the door like this."

If only Adella could have asserted her will a little more freely. She would have declared it an emergency, kicked the door open, and faced the former emperor waiting inside.

But Adella had spent all twenty-six years of her life walking only the paths laid out for her. She observed discipline, fulfilled a knight's duty, and strictly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠forbade herself from entertaining any thought beyond the sword.

How could someone like that possibly kick open the door of the villa where the former emperor resided?

Such a thing was not permitted to Adella.

Hmm…

"Is that so. The grandmother of your mother, as I recall, was quite the bold one."

"…?"

"You rose to too high a station at too young an age and have been whipping yourself ever since. I shall have a word about this. No one around you will slight you again."

"…Pardon?"

Only then did Adella turn her head.

The white-haired old man who had been walking alongside her down the long palace corridor this whole time—

Bahamart Legion. Former emperor of the Legion Kingdom, and the hero who had saved the world.

Cold sweat broke out on Adella's brow as she dropped to one knee in a rush.

"Y-Your Majesty!"

"Rise. What need is there for such formality before a withered old man long since retired?"

"I—I was blind and have committed a grave discourtesy! Please take my head!"

"Tsk tsk. An old man plays one little prank and you offer up your neck? Airi would scold me for that."

Bahamart chuckled—heh heh—and patted the knight commander's shoulder. His back was bent with age, but his frame alone was still massive enough to rival any knight.

Adella swallowed hard and carefully rose to her feet.

"So then. What is the matter?"

"The Fire Dragon has sent a letter."

"…Lea?"

"Yes."

Adella carefully held out the letter she had been safeguarding. She had managed it with the utmost care ever since receiving it from Haring, and yet the letter itself was folded as carelessly as a child's doodle.

For a letter meant for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an emperor, it was not merely messy—it bordered on outright disrespectful.

Bahamart accepted it as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"A familiar format."

The paper rustled open.

Blunt from the very first line. No flourishes, no preamble—straight to the point.

It had been so long since Bahamart had seen word choices like these that, for some reason, a laugh bubbled up out of him.

"And how is this old man supposed to manage them? That is the next generation's work."

Even if he still had the power to do so, he shouldn't.

"Senile, is it… Irreverent, but not entirely wrong."

There really were too many heroes now. Incomparably more than in Bahamart's own era.

The current emperor and various talented officials were already discussing policy on that front, so things would settle into place without much trouble. The heroes' immortality and their bizarrely fearless natures would surely prove useful in the battles ahead.

Up to this point, the contents had been familiar—and, for her, rather ordinary.

Bahamart thought as much as he read the final paragraph.

"……"

"…?"

"Puhahahaha!!"

"Y-Your Majesty?"

"Heh—heh heh… Ah, at this age, she's going to be the death of me."

He laughed.