Fist

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

"…It should be around here."

Midway up Red Mountain, Adela paused after a long climb, drew a map from inside her coat, and unfolded it. Marked on it was the precise location of the nest where the Fire Dragon was said to dwell. Climbing straight from here ought to bring her to the dragon's nest—yet no proper path was in sight. Even if a person could manage the ascent, every route was a steep incline too much for a horse.

"This is troublesome."

Of course she could have carved her way through trees and hills with a mana-infused blade, but Adela had no desire to do so.

This is the land where She dwells.

Damaging nature like that would surely put the Fire Dragon in a foul mood. She was already likely irritated by the heroes; Adela needed to be all the more careful.

"Wait here a moment. I'll finish my business and return shortly."

The horse nickered. After casting a few protective measures over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the white steed—a symbol of the royal family—Adela dismounted.

Rustle. Rustle.

The higher she climbed, the clearer it became: this path was thoroughly neglected. Paradoxically, human traces were everywhere—but those would belong to the heroes.

"I should clear a path on the way back… No. That might only make things harder for the Fire Dragon."

Strange heroes were already coming and wearing Her out. If the path were opened wide, even more would flock here. Leaving it alone would probably help more.

Though the mountain was quite steep, Adela climbed without hesitation. After roughly two hours of ascent she stood at the nest's entrance and ran her hand over the boulder sealing it shut.

"You've sealed it off."

Adela tried to quiet her pounding heart. Beyond this lay the Fire Dragon—great, noble, the subject of a heroic life story. What would She look like?

In history books and fairy tales She appeared only as a dragon, or as a black silhouette; never in a clear human form. Most people guessed She was a beautiful woman, at least.

A delicate beauty? Or perhaps an elderly sage?

Whatever form She took, Adela was ready to be awestruck.

She lightly vaulted over the boulder blocking the entrance—and a familiar face immediately caught her eye.

"Oh—sister?"

"You. I've seen that face before."

Haring. The low-rank hero who had delivered the Fire Dragon's letter to Adela. She had thought of the girl as little more than a simple errand runner—never imagining she would be receiving a dragon's tutelage.

Her skills have improved.

Adela felt a flicker of admiration at Haring's growth as she surveyed the surroundings. Nearby stood several heroes of similar or lesser caliber.

"I believe I told you that this Knight Commander is not your sister."

"Ah, r-right. Knight Commander? What brings you here…"

"I have something to deliver to the Fire Dragon. Where is She now?"

"Huh? Well…"

Haring's gaze shifted slightly. Adela followed it.

"?"

Where her eyes landed, there was only a small hero and a large one—no Fire Dragon in sight. Adela shook her head as if to dispel any misunderstanding.

"Don't worry. I've only come to deliver His Majesty's letter. I have no intention of harming Her like those ruffians, nor of causing a scene."

"Yes. That's not it."

"You need only tell me where She is."

"I already did."

"…?"

Adela looked again. At the end of her gaze stood a brown-haired adult woman laughing heartily, and a red-haired girl who looked like a child.

Lick. Lick.

The girl was eating a colorful lollipop of the kind sold in villages. The moment Adela saw her, something felt off—but she quickly looked away.

It couldn't be.

Surely She wouldn't look like that. The girl was a bit cute, but there was no way the Fire Dragon would appear so playful and frivolous.

"This is no joke."

"I'm not joking either."

"…This Knight Commander is carrying out His Majesty's orders. Do you intend to defy the solemn law, hero though you may be?"

"No."

"I ask again. Where is She?"

Adela rested her hand on her sword and glared at Haring. She had no intention of drawing it, but a little intimidation shouldn't be a problem.

As the standoff continued and a golden light was about to faintly spill from Adela's scabbard—

"No, I'm serious! She's right there! There!"

"…You."

"Yeah. It's me."

"…?"

Tap. Tap.

Feeling something poke at her waist, Adela looked down. Below, a red-haired girl with her hand stretched out was grinning up at her.

Flutter.

Now that she looked—the horns and wings…

"Gimme the letter."

"Pardon?"

"You gonna give it or not?"

Huh?

"I have committed a capital offense! Please, take my head!"

"You want me to kill you?"

"Please kill me!"

"Nope. Don't die."

I grinned down at Adela Measis, Knight Commander of the Legion Kingdom, who was prostrated ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠flat on the ground. Just because I'd tucked my horns and wings out of sight a little, she couldn't recognize me? Couldn't she see this Fire Dragon's greatness at a glance?

As I asked from my seat on the rock, Adela's head bowed even lower.

"Aren't you overdoing it?"

"…I apologize."

"By the way, you really look like Airi. I thought Airi had come back to life."

"…I strive to follow in Her footsteps."

"It shows."

Looking at Adela, I was quite surprised—and the reason was her strength. She didn't look all that old, yet she already possessed six stars. I hadn't seen her handle a sword, but rising to Knight Commander at that age meant her skill went without saying.

"Get up."

"Yes!"

She sprang to her feet. Adela rose with perfect form and stood at attention. Golden hair and golden eyes. Her figure was long-limbed and elegant, and that beauty was the kind that worked on everyone—then and now.

"…Damn, she's gorgeous."

"Never thought I'd see the Knight Commander noona here…"

"Unnie's so pretty!"

"Adela! Adela! Adela!"

"Eh, but Lea's still prettier."

"Lea's more cute…"

The heroes crowding around muttered some weird things, but anyway.

I unfolded the letter from Bahamart that Adela had brought.

"Ahem…"

The contents were roughly what I'd expected. He would manage the troublemaking heroes and toughen the standards and severity of punishments. This wouldn't prevent every incident, but at least the bold ones who raided the nest would thin out.

And…

There's something I need to say. Something too long to fit in a letter.

I'd like you to come here at least once.

"I said I'm not going."

I'd said it over and over—I planned to rest thoroughly in my nest for about five years. Normally I'd just kick out any heroes who came and sleep, but I was teaching them out of a certain sense of goodwill. Even if it was Bahamart's request, anything more than this was too much. Too much.

…Though knowing you, you won't even pretend to listen. Your own peace comes first, after all.

So if that doesn't work out…

"Hmm…"

"…That's absurd. Why…"

"You're going to play it like this?"

"Y-yes?"

"Never mind."

Thud. After folding the finished letter, I propped my chin on my hand and stared at Adela. As Bahamart said, I had no intention of going to the capital. But knowing my personality, he'd made a different request.

"Adela."

"Yes."

"Follow me."

"What? What?"

"They're gonna fight? The Knight Commander?"

"With who? Don't tell me with Lea?"

"Yeah."

"Is that even possible?"

"Dunno."

An empty ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠clearing in the nest. With the heroes watching from a distance, Adela and I faced each other holding wooden swords. Adela looked somewhat tense. I rested the wooden sword on my shoulder with a few taps and stared at her.

"A genius…?"

Adela is a genius. In pure talent, she rivals Airi.

Had she been born in an era of active war with the demonkin, she would surely have left achievements for the history books. She simply hasn't shone in this age of peace.

I hope you'll help that talent shine.

She certainly looked the part, but…

Rivals Airi?

Even so, Airi had been a swordswoman that even high-ranking legion commanders found troublesome. She was a genius, sure—but claiming she rivaled Airi seemed premature.

"Ready?"

"…I am ready."

"Come at me."

Fwoosh!!

The moment the words left my mouth, Adela charged. Physical enhancement through six mana cores, and the trajectory of golden mana boiling madly—exploded from her sword, a wooden blade that could never be called merely wooden in power.

Clangclangclangclang!!!

I reflexively raised my sword and blocked hers. As blade met blade, a wave of force swept over the entire nest. After a brief contest of strength she swung at my lower abdomen; I lightly parried and aimed for her neck.

Clang!

Blocked. Her sword moved like flowing water, intercepting mine in an instant. A collision that sounded alien for wooden swords meeting.

Clang! Claaang! Clangclangclangclang!

The exchange continued. I pressed Adela with moderate force, and she gritted her teeth as she blocked my attacks.

Not bad.

Airi-style Swordsmanship. A sword style created by Airi Measis—a catastrophe for the demonkin.

The sword bends.

One's own attacks remain infinitely sharp, while the opponent's attacks bend like flowing water and are all deflected. A sword style unique to Airi that guaranteed both offense and defense. It wasn't an easy style, so few had mastered it—yet Adela had perfected it.

"Amazing."

"Your praise… I am grateful…!"

"So what are you going to do from here?"

Her defense was solid, that much was clear—but she couldn't find any openings to attack. If this became a war of attrition, Adela would be the one to fall behind.

After being pushed back and back for quite some time, she finally seized an opening.

Crack…!

"!"

"It seems you've forgotten what Airi-style Swordsmanship truly is."

Another advantage of Airi-style Swordsmanship: the more you block, the more strain you put on the opponent's weapon. The very act of flowing, water-like defense creates imbalance. A real sword would have lasted longer, but what I held was an ordinary wooden sword with no special properties.

The moment the wooden sword shattered, Adela swung as if she'd been waiting for it. I clenched my fist in admiration.

"You've lost your weapon!"

"Fist."

"Fist?"

Wham!

My fist buried itself in Adela's face.

"Fists ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠are weapons too."