Dragon Education (1)

The trip to the Bastien Principality didn't take nearly as long as I'd expected.

The distance from Stellium, capital of the Estire Kingdom, to Eisencastelle, capital of the Bastien Principality, was shorter than the stretch we'd already covered from the Empire to the kingdom's border.

The two nations sat so close because the founders of Bastien and Estire had once come from the same house. Their surnames had long since diverged and the blood between them had thinned considerably, yet neither side denied the kinship. As a result the two countries traded freely and kept their roads in excellent repair. Crossing the border was far simpler than shuttling between the Empire and the kingdom.

Blood ties weren't the only reason. The principality was nearly as important a customer as the Empire itself. Small as Bastien was, it still imported vast quantities of wheat from Estire.

…Or so Freya cheerfully explained the entire way, apparently bored out of her mind.

"So that's why we got here without a single hold-up."

I never thought I'd appreciate good road maintenance this much. The carriages and horses the kingdom had prepared for us were top-notch, sure, but the excellent condition of the highways made the real difference. We reached Eisencastelle in only four days. Before long the capital's massive defensive walls came into view.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Those walls were the sole reason a tiny, weak principality like Bastien had never been wiped off the map. They ringed not only the capital but every border that faced a hostile neighbor. The craft was a closely guarded secret of Bastien's artisans; no other nation could replicate it.

Right now, though, those proud walls were completely useless.

"All that fortification, and it's worthless."

"Exactly."

A dragon had built its lair smack in the middle of the capital. Walls keep outsiders out; they do nothing about a problem that starts inside.

I turned to Freya beside me.

"An Infant-rank dragon… that's a really young one, right?"

"Practically just out of the hatchling stage. Anything closer to Worm-rank would have more sense than this."

"Is a dragon that young still strong?"

"Once they leave the hatchling stage they're already better than most mages. Not impossible to subjugate, though."

Letisia picked up where Freya left off.

"A dragon that has only just left the hatchling stage can cast roughly 6- to 7-Circle magic. That puts it on the level of a highly skilled high-ranking mage—someone who could hold a mid-level officer post in a Magic Tower."

"Having a mage like that appear in the heart of the capital is a problem."

"Yes. That's why the principality hasn't dared touch it and called for us instead."

They had the strength to handle it themselves, but the civilian casualties that would follow kept them from acting. A 6- or 7-Circle mage throwing a tantrum could turn the capital into a sea of fire, and a dragon wasn't nearly as fragile as a human mage.

This might be tougher than I thought.

While I fretted, the massive gates of Eisencastelle swung open—solely for our carriage. The sight felt strangely surreal.

"Everybody out~."

Time to disembark. The carriage had been so comfortable I almost wanted to stay seated longer.

Three men in matching military uniforms approached as we stepped down. They saluted and spoke.

"Thank you for coming, Hero Erinn."

"Pfft, don't mention it~."

Erinn brushed off their gratitude with a light laugh and asked,

"Are you the ones in charge~?"

"I am Ben Griff, Commander of the Capital Defense Force."

The middle-aged man at the front was Commander Ben Griff. He offered his hand; Erinn clasped it lightly.

"Situation report~?"

"Fortunately—if one can call it that—the dragon has remained inside its lair and done nothing further. It did raze the surrounding area while building the nest, but…"

"And then just sat there… Exactly the sort of thing a foolish young dragon would do~."

"We believe it has only just left the hatchling stage."

Just as Freya had predicted.

Still, something bothered me. Why would a young dragon choose a place this crowded for its lair? Even at its most cocky and ambitious, it had to know its own power wasn't fully mature yet. A 6- or 7-Circle mage defeating an entire nation was pure fantasy. With a little willingness to accept losses, the principality could have handled it alone. A highly intelligent dragon couldn't possibly be unaware of that.

Letisia seemed to share the same doubt and asked the commander,

"Building a lair means the place appealed to it somehow… Why would somewhere this full of people appeal to a dragon?"

"…According to the dragon itself, its ancestors ruled this land in the distant past. It claims we have been illegally occupying the territory and that we must leave."

"So this is from before the country was even founded."

"Yes, most likely."

Erinn giggled at their exchange.

"Playing landlord after all this time, huh~♡"

"What color is it?"

"A blue dragon."

True to the name, its body was covered in blue scales, and it primarily used ice-attribute magic. In raw destructive power and ferocity it ranked a step below black or red dragons—somewhat less dangerous.

"No room for negotiation, I take it~?"

"It has occupied the very center of the capital. Negotiation is impossible."

"Then we have nothing to hold back. Should be easy enough~."

Commander Ben Griff looked at her with mild surprise.

"Easy, you say?"

"You said it won't come out of the lair, right~?"

"Yes, and that is precisely the headache. To subjugate it we would have to enter the lair…"

Fighting a dragon inside its own lair meant fighting on its home ground. A dragon's lair granted its master every conceivable buff. There was even an NPC line in Dungeon in Evil that went, "Never touch a dragon inside its lair." Stats rose by more than fifty percent; the creature became far more dangerous.

Erinn, however, spoke as though she already knew all that.

"We won't be going inside~ Too dangerous, don't you think~?"

"Then how…?"

She answered the commander's confusion with a bright smile.

"We'll just cut the whole thing in half from the outside~♡"

We headed for the main avenue where the capital defense forces had set up their lines. "Avenue" was generous—every surrounding building had been swept away, leaving an open plaza.

And the culprit responsible for the mess…

"There it is."

…was still holed up inside that solid-looking lair, refusing to come out.

Up close it looked grotesque. The mottled, multicolored surface and the hard, shell-like sections made me think of some monstrous snail.

"We will prepare for the possibility that the dragon survives even if the Hero succeeds in cutting the lair."

"Pfft, sure~♡"

Commander Ben Griff was simply taking the necessary precautions. Even if the lair was sliced open, there was no guarantee the dragon inside would be cleanly bisected as well.

Judging by Erinn's attitude, though… that might not be a problem.

"She's actually going ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to do it…"

Slicing an entire lair from the outside was a brutally crude idea, whoever first thought of it. You couldn't just casually cut through a dragon's nest.

"…It'll be as hard as those walls."

"Even my spirits couldn't punch through it."

Letisia agreed with me. If her spirits couldn't manage it, the Four Great Spirits' attacks would be useless. A Spirit King might stand a chance.

"Only Erinn could say something like that with a straight face."

"Wouldn't it be easier just to go inside and kill the dragon? Their scales give them high physical and magic resistance, but…"

They had one glaring weakness.

"If Freya pours divine power into it, it won't stand a chance."

Divine power. Dragons were classified as monsters, so they were vulnerable to holy energy. Sacred weapons that radiated divine power were popular anti-dragon gear even in Dungeon in Evil.

Freya, a walking font of divine power, could handle a young dragon with ease—lair buffs or no.

"She's probably thinking about it running away. If Freya enters the lair the way Allen suggested, the dragon would face its natural predator…"

"Ah, that might be it."

Dragons almost never abandoned their lairs, but when their lives were clearly on the line they might still flee.

I looked over at Erinn. She stood a short distance away, gauging the distance between us and the lair.

"Cutting the whole lair in one stroke… Definitely something only a Hero would come up with."

"Even among Heroes, almost no one could actually pull it off."

"Hahaha, right! Only Erinn could do it!"

What was that supposed to mean?

"Orlando couldn't?"

"Of course not!"

"He couldn't."

Erinn's stats were higher than Orlando's, but outside of mana the gap wasn't that enormous. Against a dragon's lair, raw mana wouldn't help much anyway, and her holy stat wasn't that much higher than his either.

"Is it the weapon difference?"

"That's part of it. The Holy Sword is called the pinnacle of all holy armaments."

Of course a Hero's proper weapon was the Holy Sword.

But the way she said "part of it" suggested something else.

"There's another reason?"

"Erinn's swordsmanship."

"Swordsmanship?"

"It's called the Hegemon Sword Art. Among the human race, only Erinn can learn it."

…So that was it?

I'd cleared every difficulty of Dungeon in Evil except the final one, and I'd never heard that lore before. Looking back, Erinn was the only character who possessed the [Hegemon Sword] trait. I'd assumed it was just a unique character ability, not something only she could learn.

"If only Erinn among humans can learn it, who taught her?"

"Someone who isn't human, most likely."

Letisia continued,

"We don't know who her master is either. But whoever it is must be an extraordinary sword master."

"…Really?"

…But shouldn't I have known that already? I was Erinn's childhood friend. The others might not have known before joining the party, but ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I should have.

That thought brought a fresh wave of dissonance.

Something's still off.

I kept reacting as though I had no idea, yet not a single party member found it strange. They all acted like my ignorance was perfectly natural.

At this point I was practically advertising that I wasn't the real Allen… I was dropping far too many obvious blanks. Letisia's earlier excuse no longer covered it.

…What are they hiding?

The unease kept growing. Unease had a way of turning into distrust…

They don't seem like the type to withhold good information from me.

From everything I'd seen so far, they might act weird on a daily basis, but they never treated me as less than a full party member. (Even if they did drag me to drinking parties against my will now and then.)

Would people like that deliberately hide something I needed to know? Unless it was information that would only hurt me to hear…

……They'll tell me when the time is right.

I decided to believe that for now. While I was thinking, Erinn drew her sword. Freya approached her.

Freya's powerful blessing settled over Erinn's body. Erinn flashed a confident smile and raised her sword high.

"Everyone back up—it's dangerous~ Or you'll end up like hot dogs~♡"

Hot dogs…

She meant we'd be split in half if we didn't run. The image of ketchup dripping down a split sausage somehow matched the idea of blood flowing a little too well.

…Weirdly fitting analogy.

The warning message appeared at the same moment Erinn's Holy Sword erupted in brilliant light—so bright I had to squint.

Erinn stepped forward. From her small back radiated an indescribable sense of absolute reliability. I wasn't the only one who felt it—everyone present seemed to share the same feeling.

"Hyaaaah!"

A cute battle cry that clashed completely with her usual demeanor rang out. At the same instant she brought the Holy Sword down in a vertical slash.

KRAAAAAAAAAAACK─────────!!

The concentrated magic cleaved everything in a straight line as though it were parting the stars themselves. The dragon's lair was no exception.

"Holy…"

She had bisected the supposedly impregnable dragon lair with a single stroke. Looking at the cleanly halved nest, I knew at once the dragon inside couldn't have survived.

"Th-the Hero has destroyed the lair!"

"Wooooah!!"

The soldiers who had been staring in dumbfounded shock finally erupted into cheers, praising Erinn's feat.

In Dungeon in Evil this had been a grueling event that forced you to enter the lair and fight the dragon head-on. I never imagined it would end this easily…

"……Hmm?"

Erinn tilted her head as though something felt off. At the same moment the little thief—Clara—tugged at my sleeve.

"…Allen."

"Yeah?"

"…It's alive."

"……What?"

I looked where Clara pointed. The sky. The sun was so bright I had to squint, yet right in the middle of that glare hung a black silhouette—like the shadow of a winged lizard.

"…A dragon?"

"You verminous humans dare destroy my nest?"

A voice that looked down on humanity, booming in every direction. Classic dragon speech.

Erinn smiled mischievously, as if the turn of events delighted her.

"Didn't you say it was inside the lair~?"

"That… We confirmed it was inside before we brought the Hero's party here!"

If Commander Ben Griff wasn't lying, the dragon had slipped out of the lair just before we arrived and seized the high ground, intending to wipe us out. A clever little plan for a young dragon.

"True to its intelligent race—it wasn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going to just sit there and take it."

The young dragon declared with full youthful swagger,

"I shall slaughter every human here and make an example of you all."