Four Heavenly Kings: Ashumar (1)
“Sisilia, it's hot out here.”
Sisilia was half-draped over Beatrice as they trudged through the mountains. She'd taken a simple quest to clear out monsters near the village yesterday, which meant waking up early.
Beatrice sighed and scooped Sisilia up into her arms.
“This might be better.”
With Aiden around lately, Sisilia's childcare difficulty had dropped a bit, but it was still a challenge. Not that it felt bad. Sisilia only allowed this kind of touch from the Windsor Knights. She'd refused Aiden's noble-style morning greeting—a kiss on the back of her hand.
...Though she'd snuck a little lick at Beatrice afterward.
At least she had some basic boundaries, which reassured Beatrice.
“Hmm. No monster presence nearby.”
Beatrice's golden eyes shifted to gold as they reached the forest's center.
“...There are a few. Orcs?”
She picked up the faint monster signatures, set Sisilia down in a safe spot, and said,
“Stay here for a bit. I'll be right back.”
Sisilia curled up in the grass and promptly dozed off with soft snores.
Beatrice was dumbfounded.
She really loves her morning sleep. How does she even make it to work?
Back when she'd first visited Sisilia's estate, the girl had been meditating in a picturesque training ground.
Sisilia was so cool back then.
At the time, Beatrice had seen her as the flawless Sword Princess, worthy of total admiration.
...Now she was just a sleepy kitten.
The most frustrating part is everyone else still thinks she's the perfect Sword Princess.
Beatrice clenched her fist. She'd make sure the whole world knew the real Sisilia.
“Hah!”
She sliced through four orcs in one clean sweep. Only after confirming they dissolved into gray ash did she sheathe her sword—a habit picked up from Sisilia.
Always confirm the kill. It's the simplest way to leave no openings.
She was a diligent adjutant who followed Sisilia's teachings to the letter.
“Good. No more monsters around. Time to wake up Kitty Sisilia and head back.”
Beatrice returned to the spot with a satisfied smile. But the rock where she'd left Sisilia was empty.
Where'd she go?
It didn't take long to find her. Sisilia teetered precariously on a cliff edge, staring intently in one direction.
“Sisilia, what are you doing?”
“Felt something.”
Beatrice peered in the same direction, then widened her eyes toward the village.
“Betty. Looks like we need to check it—”
“Sisilia!”
Sisilia turned. Beatrice clutched her mouth, pointing at the village.
“Everyone in the village... they're all collapsed.”
**
Sisilia and Beatrice gathered the fallen villagers in one spot.
“No demon presence.”
“Yeah. I didn't sense any either.”
The villagers lay unconscious, burning with fever. Their lips had turned blue, and their presences were fading.
“Sorry.”
Aiden was out cold, and even Raoul. But Raoul, being a higher rank, was still conscious. He'd managed to gasp before passing out,
“All I ate yesterday was stew.”
Sisilia gravely checked their hands, pried open mouths, examined closely. She touched her lips thoughtfully.
“This is...”
Beatrice tensed, swallowing hard—
Sisilia tilted her head.
“No clue.”
“...Sisilia?”
“But I'm no expert in medicine anyway.”
Beatrice slumped. Even in this crisis, Sisilia's casual attitude drained her energy.
“But I can fix it, so it's fine.”
Sisilia reached into empty air.
Hummm—
Space warped, and potion bottles appeared in her hand.
“Ah! Sisilia's got enough potions to open a shop!”
“...Not that many.”
“Thank goodness. No one's dying.”
Beatrice exhaled in relief. But Sisilia lined up the potions by type and shook her head.
“Even I don't have enough for multiple doses each.”
“Th-then what do we do?”
“Find and remove the cause. Let's start by figuring out the problem.”
Sisilia murmured calmly, feeding Raoul potions one by one.
On the fifth bottle—
Hummm—
“R-reaction!”
It was a curse detox potion. So the collapse was curse-related.
And no demon presence detected 30 minutes ago from the highest point nearby.
“Too many cursed for a single item, but too few uncursed for black magic.”
Sisilia pondered, then asked Beatrice,
“Village has only two wells, right?”
“Ah.”
Beatrice's eyes widened. A well was the only way to curse so many at once.
“Yeah, probably.”
Sisilia sighed in relief, thinking it'd be straightforward.
“Let's check the wells.”
**
At the well, Sisilia confirmed the culprit: the water.
No tampering at the well. If it's sabotage, probably the lake source.
She led Beatrice along the water vein to—a cave.
“H-here...”
Drip—
A chilling aura permeated the vast cave, with a stream running through it.
Sisilia plunged ahead without hesitation. Feeling a breeze, she said,
“Betty. Light it up.”
“Y-yes!”
Beatrice cast Light Blessing forward. The revealed sight left her speechless.
“Th-this...”
Sisilia's eyes sparkled as she looked up.
A massive dragon corpse lay there, long dead.
“Dragon lair!”
Beatrice gaped.
“D-dragons are real?!”
“Jerryway was lying after all!”
Sisilia bounced in place with joy.
—For reference, at age seven, she'd sobbed when Jerryway told her “dragons are extinct.”—
“So the curse source—”
“Yeah. The corpse. Ancient decay contaminated the water.”
Sisilia stroked the dragon's body with a beaming smile.
A dragon! She'd dreamed of one for so long. Just thinking about it made her heart race.
To behold the real thing—
Sorry, newbies, but she wasn't sharing this.
Sisilia hugged the enormous tail, hopped on the vast back.
Beatrice shifted from shock to sleepy-eyed annoyance.
“Sisilia, how long are you gonna play on someone else's corpse?”
“Gah.”
Sisilia snapped back to seriousness.
“Betty. Let's go catch the villain who killed this dragon right now.”
“That's not it! And why assume the dragon killer's a villain... Huh?”
Beatrice realized something huge.
“Sisilia. The village chief's scam story from yesterday... it was true.”
“Huh? I believed it from the start.”
Sisilia tilted her head like it was obvious.
Beatrice debated where to begin correcting her, then gave up.
“But one detail's off.”
Sisilia pointed at the ceiling.
“Lair's too small for this dragon. Couldn't even stand.”
“Yeah... What's that got to do with it?”
“Chief said a fierce battle where the knight slew the dragon. No room for that here. And...”
Sisilia jumped down from the dragon's back—opposite Beatrice.
Beatrice approached, then froze in shock.
“...No heart.”
“!”
A massive tunnel gaped where the heart should be.
“Details are a thousand years old.”
Sisilia clasped her hands behind her back, shaking her head.
“But those two weren't exactly besties.”
Anyone could see: targeted heart extraction.
The dragon trusted the knight. The knight betrayed the dragon.
The ancient legend's truth left only bitterness.
Sisilia hoped such tragic tales stayed limited to the “Dragon Knight” myth as she walked away.
The corpse's decay pollution was resolved. Now, just antidotes back at the village.
But first, something to check.
“No loot left.”
“Yeah. Scraped clean.”
“Dragons love shiny things. Bet this place was full of gold coins a millennium ago.”
“Probably. Magic circle traces too.”
Someone—the knight, likely—had taken the spoils.
But a few items remained.
“What's this?”
Unidentifiable artifacts.
“Not great ones. Left 'cause worthless.”
And a book, seemingly dragon leather-bound.
Sisilia examined it closely. The cover bore a magic circle—likely preservation, since the millennium-old tome had no dust.
“Grimoire? Dragon-owned, after all.”
“At least not the steamy romances cluttering your room, Betty.”
“Wh-what?! M-must be ancient language!”
Beatrice flushed crimson, overreacting to divert.
“Ah, haha—can't read a thing. Wonder what it says.”
Sisilia stared silently at the book for a while.
Actually, reading it.
Of course, a millennium-old language should be illegible.
But Sisilia was a user. Unlike Beatrice, she could interpret any tongue.
Sad.
As expected, a grimoire. Authored by the dragon itself.
Written at a dear friend's request: a magic tome for easy human spellcasting.
The first page read:
—For my one true friend, Ashumar, I pen this grimoire.
Sisilia knew the feeling—she'd written a newbie guidebook for others.
It was grueling... yet thrilling.
Tedious now, but imagining future readers helped by your words...
Like her, the dragon must've felt joy writing it. Never dreaming of murder by that “friend.”
“The strongest knight who slew the dragon.”
Thus, Sisilia couldn't forgive.
“His identity: Four Heavenly King Ashumar.”
The being who shattered the dragon's innocence.
“...The worst knight, who abandoned his humanity.”
She'd erase him in the world's most wretched form.