Dragon Leaving the Cradle (2)
Dragon Leaving the Cradle (2)
- Fwooosh—
The moment I stepped out of the restaurant, the biting wind greeted me like an unwelcome acquaintance.
The gusts clawed at my robe, threatening to tear it off, and the snowflakes that didn't quite succeed in stripping me instead piled onto the fabric in a flurry of white.
'Where even am I?'
I tapped my smartwatch and pulled up the map.
'Western Russia? Central? No, looks like I'm straddling the border.'
Russia was one of the nations that collapsed after the Great Cataclysm.
The reason was simple.
Just plain bad luck. Right at the start of the Cataclysm, a 3rd Rank monster spawned right in the capital, a direct hit.
During the era known as the Dark Age.
When superhuman forces were scarce and weak, there was no way anyone could have overcome a 3rd Rank monster easily.
They never had the capability to prepare for dungeons and monsters emerging across such vast territory in the first place.
As a result, the lands that were once Russia are now a playground for various factions carving out their own pieces.
Abandoned and left to fester without a master, countless dungeons and monsters multiplied. The region became a favored hunting ground.
In the original story, treating places like this as if they were gold mines eventually led to them transforming into the Demon Realm... anyway.
'Hmm...'
The snow was falling so hard it looked like the sky had holes punched in it, piling up to my ankles.
Snowdrifts rose past my knees. Traipsing through this was a chore.
I tried to step lightly to keep from sinking, but the snow kept pelting down from above, threatening to bury me where I stood.
'The weather's absolutely vile.'
The cold aura clinging to the outside of my robe was fierce.
If the robe didn't have temperature-control magic woven into its lining, that chill would've seeped past the fabric and straight into my bones.
If I sprinted at full speed, I would fail to pinpoint the entrance to the Reverse Side. So I had no choice but to move at a steady pace, enduring the blizzard with every step.
For someone who abhors the cold, this was the last place I wanted to set foot.
'Was the Changhae territory's environment similar to this?'
...After a moment's thought, I figured it wouldn't hurt to get used to it.
'Let's go.'
I could sense a presence at the very edge of my observation range.
Easier said than done. It was far enough away to be in a completely different district.
I wasn't exactly flush with time, but I prepared for the worst, recalibrated my stance, and started walking at a measured pace.
[Contacts: Master (+5 others)]
▶Me: (saluting puppy emoji)
▶Me: All clear!
▶Me: I miss you T_T
I didn't forget to send a check-in message along the way. If I skipped even that, I couldn't begin to guess what kind of torment would be waiting for me when I got back.
'......'
As I was sending the message, a wave of melancholy hit me without warning—the warmth and scent I couldn't feel right now.
I'd been roaming outside for so long that even the familiar scent of home clinging to my body had long since faded.
'Haah.'
I let out a deep sigh at my own sorry state, like a puppy riddled with separation anxiety, and pushed my pace.
* * *
The independent city of Vologda was shaped like a walled fortress.
Not just a wall of heaped stone.
It was a physical bulwark against monsters and a magical boundary, its surface engraved with spell formulas that served as the city's protective barrier.
Vologda's gates were the same as ever.
A few monsters wandered too close, people passed through now and then, and the odd supply truck came and went.
"Halt."
A guard who had been yawning lazily while scanning the perimeter tightened his grip on his weapon.
A lone figure, cutting through the blizzard as they approached the gate.
The other guards nearby readied their weapons too. The shift leader stepped forward.
"This is the independent city of Vologda. If you wish to pass, identify yourself."
On a day with weather this foul, the traveler had a robe drawn up so tightly you couldn't even make out their face.
It should have been easy to maintain a proper wariness, but somehow, it wasn't.
Something almost noble radiated from the figure, a presence that made the guards reluctant to treat them casually.
- Shhk—
They tensed when the robed figure reached into their coat, but what emerged was an ordinary ID card.
"Hmm..."
Well, not quite ordinary. The guard read the identity listed on the card, channeled a thread of mana through it to confirm it was genuine, then let out a low hum.
The issuing body was the Association.
The Association's reach didn't extend heavily into the Gray Zone, but it couldn't be completely ignored.
If anything, physical IDs like this from the Association were commonly used in the Gray Zone.
The reason for the guard's hesitation was that the bearer of this ID was someone of considerable standing.
No matter how weak the Association's influence might be out here, injuring one of their people could invite pressure down the line.
"...Confirmed, Lord Guinevere. You are cleared."
Guinevere. The name of this esteemed individual in the robe.
Thanks to that status, most of the inspection procedures could be skipped.
Guinevere gave a small, silent nod and passed through the gate the guards had opened.
Even as Guinevere brushed past them, the soldiers felt that same strange, indescribable sensation.
A rookie guard, just starting his shift, stared blankly at Guinevere's receding back and mumbled,
"Guinevere? Even the name's refined. Fits someone important."
"Hey, keep your mouth shut. No point in giving them a reason to hassle you."
"Ah, yessir."
"And let central know we've got a VIP from the Association."
The guard who issued the order turned his gaze back toward the inside of the gate.
A broad, neatly paved main road stretched straight ahead, crowded with people bundled up against the cold and vehicles crawling along.
Shops and residential buildings were jammed together on either side of the boulevard, but the smoke curling from the chimneys at least gave the place a lived-in feel.
"Sssip..."
Watching through the crowd, the guard found his eyes fixed on the retreating figure of this VIP called Guinevere. He couldn't shake a vague, inexplicable unease.
* * *
Superhumans are high earners, and it's not even close.
Even low-rank heroes and hunters—the sort nobody would call top-tier—pull in far more money than the average person.
Climb higher? At a certain point, you stop having to worry about the cost of daily life entirely.
The leftover cash goes into savings, gets invested in elixirs or gear to hone your skills, or, for some, gets blown on leisure.
"Are we really okay just hanging out here?"
"Why, what's the problem?"
Spada, a superhuman of respectable ability, fell squarely into the "blow it on gambling" camp.
Independent city of Vologda. As he sat in a casino deeper inside the city, languidly torching his money, Spada just shrugged at his subordinate's question.
"You asking if it's okay to goof off while we're on a job?"
"Yeah..."
"Well, we've been running around for days. What's wrong with taking one day to rest? How each of us rests is our own business, isn't it?"
Spada's body and mind weren't so fragile that a stretch of forced marching like this would ruin them, but it was always easier later if you shook off the fatigue whenever you got the chance.
Besides, the job was yielding absolutely nothing, so motivation was thin on the ground.
"For me, this is rest. It's dopamine, right? That rush you get when you bet and win is something else. Addictive."
"Isn't it still pocket change?"
"Even pocket change tastes good when you win. Like right now."
Spada flipped over the cards on the round table. Then he scanned the cards flipped over on the opposite side.
"Ah, shit."
"Your win rate doesn't look great..."
"Quiet."
A bust. Spada's face crumpled as he shoved the chips he'd wagered forward.
"Much obliged~"
"I'm winning it right back, so just deal the cards."
To make it worse, the opponent was taunting him. The taunt of a man who could be reduced to dust with a flick of the wrist, and it was insufferably grating.
Spada's hands trembled as he hurried the dealer along.
- Creeeak...
"...Huh?"
A new player joined the round table, which until now had seated only the two of them.
Spada fixed his stare on the robe-clad figure who had sat down diagonally across from him.
A robe a bit shabby and worn. Small build—a woman? Or just a small man, maybe.
He couldn't be sure. The figure was under the effects of a Perception-Obstruction spell.
'Some noble brat from inland?'
But the aura was strange.
Elegant? Refined? Even with the Perception Obstruction in effect, the presence bleeding through was remarkably vivid.
'...What is this?'
Sitting down at the table so abruptly? Nothing strange about that. It was perfectly normal to join a game before it started.
The strange part was.
He had barely sensed the newcomer's presence right before they sat down.
Put another way, if this person had launched a surprise attack, it might actually have landed.
An expert of rare caliber in this backwater region.
A recent rumor abruptly surfaced in his mind.
Spada's expression hardened, and the subordinate standing behind him watching the game tensed up as well.
"I'm out."
The other player, reading the dangerous shift in the air, smoothly rose from his seat.
Spada wouldn't normally have let someone walk off with his money so easily, but right now he didn't have the luxury of caring.
"...Two participants. We will begin the game again."
The dealer wanted to bolt just as badly. But if he ran off just because the atmosphere got eerie, he might lose his job overnight. So the dealer swallowed his tears and started the game.
The dealer distributed the cards to each participant.
Spada didn't even glance at the cards placed before him; he stared intently at the robed figure.
"Who the heck are you? Judging by the skill you've got in hiding your presence, you don't seem like an ordinary expert."
[I merely sat down to gamble. Is it really necessary to pry into personal affairs?]
"It's not mandatory. But there's nothing wrong with asking out of curiosity, right?"
[Is that so?]
The robed figure shrugged, rubbing a facedown card on the round table.
[I believe the one who asks should introduce themselves first.]
'Is he actually a noble?'
An indefinable elegance permeated their speech and mannerisms. Spada raised an eyebrow.
"Forte. The one behind me is Foible. What about your name?"
[You may call me Guinevere.]
"Guinevere...? That's a damn fancy name."
[Thank you for the compliment.]
A brief exchange of questions and answers. Spada had given an alias. It was unlikely the one who called themself Guinevere had given their true name so readily either.
'I'm using a perception obstruction as well.'
The magic tool hanging at his waist was still functioning. The same went for his subordinate in the back. They were hiding their identities too, for now.
'......'
Meeting an expert in a place like this was unwelcome.
Normally, he wouldn't have reacted so sensitively.
The reason Spada was so on edge now was due to the rumors that had been spreading in the area recently.
"Hey, have you ever heard of someone called Faceless?"
Seeing no point in trying to glean more just by looking, he asked point-blank.
[Faceless?]
"Yeah. That guy who appeared in China about half a year ago. He became notorious in no time because of how ridiculously deadly his skills are."
Faceless. 無面.
The reason he got that name was because, oddly enough, he always wore a mask with no eye holes.
If that were all, people would have just dismissed him as a weirdo.
"Within a fortnight, dozens of the local powers got torn apart by him, right? There are also stories about him being tangled up with the Twin-headed Poison Dragon that turned undead, and others say he was killed by the Twin-headed Poison Dragon since no one saw him after that..."
But the one called Faceless had shown a flashy record in a short time, then vanished cleanly.
"And what else? There's a rumor he's from the Enforcement Department because the Association practically kowtows to him and grants all kinds of favors."
If it were the Association's Enforcement Department, it would make sense. Aren't they the ones who are notoriously secretive and change their identities like they eat meals?
It wouldn't be strange if he changed his identity right after completing a mission.
Given his own status, bumping into someone from the Association was problematic for Spada.
"But word has it he's surfaced again recently. The rumors say he's been tearing around nearby like he's hunting down lice."
Spada fixed his gaze on the lower jaw of the mask glimpsed beneath the robe and asked,
"Would you happen to have any connection to him?"
Silence settled around them. Before he knew it, only a few people remained in the dim gambling den.
Those with sharp instincts had bolted immediately, and even the clueless ones had followed the rapidly disappearing group out.
- Screech...
At the low creak of a chair, the one who had called themself Guinevere shrugged.
[The card on the far left is the three of hearts.]
"What?"
Spada narrowed his brows at the off-the-wall reply. He shut his mouth for a moment, then flipped over the leftmost card among those dealt to him.
[3♡]
"......"
[Followed by the nine of spades, seven of diamonds, three of clubs, and the queen of diamonds.]
He flipped the cards over in order from the left.
[9♤] [7◇] [3♧] [Q◇]
[A junk hand. If we had played it out, I would have won.]
Guinevere flipped over their own hand of cards.
[A♡] [K♡] [Q♡] [J♡] [10♡]
The A, K, Q, J, 10 all of the same suit.
A royal straight flush—the combination commonly known as an unbeatable hand.
"Mm..."
Spada let out a low hum.
"You've got some nice tricks. So, what does this have to do with Faceless?"
[Well, I wonder. Forte? Or should I say Spada Sverid?]
"Ah, fuck."
Spada's face crumpled violently as he spat out a curse.
There was no hesitation. His swinging arm slashed through the empty air.
It was an arm not even properly coated in aura. The distance between them meant it couldn't reach. The arm didn't stretch out long, either.
Yet the empty air split at his gesture.
The round table was cleaved in two. The chair Guinevere had been sitting on, the dim lamps hanging from the ceiling, and the ceiling itself were sliced in a straight line.
- Sla-ash!
Only then did the sound of cutting ring out, and everything that had been split in two crumbled powerlessly.
Not even the hem of the robe was cut. The presence had vanished once more, ghostlike.
An unforgivable blunder in a battle where a single choice determines life or death.
Spada knew exactly what to do in a situation like this.
- Grip...!
He poured his strength into his hand. He didn't clench it into a fist. Mana coalesced within it, and his innate talent seeped out.
Soon, he flung his hands out in all directions as if scraping something off.
- CRACK-A-BOOOOOM!
The formless slashes gathered in his hands swept through the surroundings. An indiscriminate wave of cutting force, sparing neither friend nor foe, ground everything around it to dust.
Where the slashes halted, not even proper debris remained. Snowflakes poured down like rain through the gaping hole in the ceiling.
"......"
The rigid look on Spada's face didn't ease.
"Hah, haah..."
[Are you alright?]
Two figures landed lightly at a spot some distance away. One was the robed Guinevere, and the other was the dealer who had barely escaped being swept away by the slashes.
Seeing the dealer gasping for breath as if hyperventilating, Guinevere flicked a finger.
[I'll send you far away, so from that point on, run on your own. And grab anyone you can and spread the word about the situation as much as possible.]
"Y-yes, ma'am...! Thank you so much...!"
The dealer's body rose into the air and flew far off.
Telekinesis? Wind magic? While Spada was making his analysis, Guinevere stepped forward, brushing dust from their shoulder.
[Spada Sverid. A Grade 1 fugitive officially wanted by the Association, with the mass slaughter of civilians as your chief crime.]
"Seeing you've got the wanted list memorized, you're definitely from the Enforcement Department, you fuck."
[Seeing you attack out of nowhere the moment your identity was revealed, you truly are a criminal.]
The perception-obstruction magic was dispelled by the recoil of the violent combat act.
Black hair, black eyes. A man with sharp features: Spada.
He fixed a sharp glare on the mask with no eye holes visible beneath the robe on the other side.
[Do you happen to have some sort of... extenuating circumstances?]
At Guinevere's question, Spada scanned his surroundings and replied.
"...If I say I do, will you just let me go?"
[If you come along quietly, some consideration would be possible.]
"That's a bit much. I'd get the death penalty at worst, and at best, it's life imprisonment even with a reduced sentence. I want to live freely, gambling and practicing the sword."
[If the life you praise so highly rests on having butchered well over a hundred thousand people, I'd suggest you just die nicely instead.]
Guinevere's cold retort was accompanied by a tilt of their head.
[Actually, that's not what I wanted to ask.]
Spada Sverid. A Grade 1 fugitive registered with the Association.
[Where is that piece of shit, Hong Yeon-jun?]
Hong Yeon-jun. The younger brother of the current Calamity Flame clan head, Hong Jin-seon.
The bastard who had disgraced the history of the Calamity Flame family and wounded the family and loved ones Hong Yeon-hwa cherished.
And, for some reason, the son of a bitch who seemed to have burned down my house.
Spada Sverid was one of the men who followed that Hong Yeon-jun.
"Hong Yeon-jun? Who the hell is that, and why are you asking me?"
[The traces of Calamity Flame clinging to you are blatant.]
The residual, foreign traces of Calamity Flame on him were one of those proofs.
"I don't get what kind of bullshit you're on about."
Traces of Calamity Flame? By Spada's common sense, those were incomprehensible words.
But the other side seemed oddly certain. Unable to smooth out his crumpled expression, Spada took his stance.
"...By common sense, there's absolutely no advantage for me, right?"
[By common sense, there's absolutely no way I'd ask you nicely.]
Guinevere, Lee Ha-yul, raised both arms, sneering.
Ruuuumble! A crimson energy poured out from their elegantly lifted fingertips.
At the terrifying sight that seemed to soak their surroundings in blood, Spada's expression hardened rigidly.
Mana Affinity Expansion Ability
Homogenization — Blood Cloud (血雲)
As if from the memory of some distant day, churning blood-red mist coiled around Lee Ha-yul.
* * *
[Savior Correction System: Evil Annihilation Progress]
[Main Quest 「Tower of Purgatory」 linkage confirmed]
[Providing assistance to the Savior]
...
[Savior Correction System: Salvation Progress]
[Mental State 「Salvation」 「Goodwill」 confirmed]
[Providing assistance to the Savior]