Chapter 73 - Clear Skies on the Return Journey
Instead of the old, musty wooden grain from days past, the entire frame had become a gleaming brass metal. In place of the rusted tin statues, a crystal-carved sea goddess adorned the prow. The Handgun seemed somehow more stylish than when we'd set out, with sturdy chains and ropes woven together like a knotted basket. I'd heard that four dragons would carry us without needing to calculate the winds—a lavish return indeed.
The only minor issue was that one of the supporting dragons was "Nidroga's cousin."
"Sis, I might not be feeling great, so I could fall asleep mid-flight."
"Just shut up with the nonsense."
"I've got wake-up herbs stuffed in my backpack. Light a fire on deck and pipe the steam into my nose—hey, Sis!"
While Nidroga was scattering marijuana leaves into the sea, someone sidled up behind me.
"Take care. I had a wonderful time thanks to all of you."
"Ah, yes. Thank you so much for looking after us."
I bowed hastily and turned to see a mature woman with charming half-lidded eyes. But now that I knew the varied expressions hidden behind those eyes...
"Even after all that, you're still scared of me?"
"...It's not fear exactly. You're someone to revere. With all these eyes on us, it's hard for a mere porter like me to chat casually."
Getting cocky just because she'd hung out with us for one night would tarnish the Lord's dignity. Her leniency wasn't permission to take liberties.
But the Lord twisted my intent with a mischievous grin.
"So, if there were no eyes on us, you'd get to see my stunning side?"
"...Th-that's not..."
Only after she laughed it off as a joke did I stop fumbling. The pleased Lord added,
"Don't think you've seen some sloppy side of the Lord. I don't do that with just anyone."
"...I'd never dare think that. Didn't you say you've maintained your dignity for ages close to Nidroga's lifespan?"
"You remembered. That night must've been pretty leisurely for you."
She rubbed her arm bashfully, but her slyly opened eyes gleamed with provocative greed as she stared me down. Tension made me swallow hard.
The Lord burst into giggles and patted my arm, telling me to relax.
"Take good care of Nidroga. She's a proper adult now, so she'll stand on her own without her mom's help soon enough."
"She's already one of my most reliable comrades, but I'll support her with all I have until she's worry-free... assuming that day comes before my lifespan runs out."
Maybe that was overstepping. When I tacked on a joke following her lead and saw her lips tighten and face harden, I panicked.
"If that's rude, I apologize—"
"No, no. It's just... it reminded me of something someone else said."
"Who might that be...?"
"...Nidroga's dad was an ordinary human."
Her words, forced through a smile, carried heavy implications. All I could do was nod in quiet comfort.
"Dragons live bearing the identities of their neighboring races. Old tales say it's the gods' consideration."
"Consideration for what, exactly?"
"More precisely, consideration for the world, not us. If we come to love the neighbors in the fields and friends in the seas, we won't recklessly use our power to burn their homes or dry them up."
The Lord gazed at our party members boarding with wistful eyes. Nidroga was laughing and joking with them right on cue.
"It was consideration to protect the world's weak from us, the strong. But..."
"...Dragons who end up loving them weren't considered."
She looked at me with eyes like she'd been impressed.
"Exactly. Who cares about the sorrows of the strong? The soul inside this shell is no supreme monster—just one person. Why must we live counting the lost and departed endlessly?"
Her tone was light, but the tear stains beneath weighed heavy. I imagined centuries, millennia of stashing fragile human wounds inside a dragon's shell.
Her warning not to raise my pleasure threshold carelessly came to mind. It could work both ways. Sorrow can kill easier than joy.
"Sometimes I think, 'Why must I live as a human?' And what scares me more is wondering if Nidroga will one day feel the same."
"Thinking of her party members... or me?"
"So I'm asking you. Since it's come to this, love her with all your might."
"Usually, that kind of talk is followed by a polite request to break up with my daughter for those reasons."
"Not you. You said you're not the mom who blocks her daughter's love. Partings will come someday, and sighing over losses is inevitable. But the best ointment for those scars..."
Nidroga's mother sighed, her lips curving up.
"...is happy memories."
"...Then my mission is to give Nidroga regret-free joy."
"Mission sounds heavy. Call it a request. I trust you'll handle it as excellently as before."
The Lord tilted her head, then added softly as if off-script,
"It was like that for me too. Nice not to feel lonely for a bit."
A fierce dilemma flashed through me. Her leniency wasn't permission to take liberties. I wasn't versed in etiquette, let alone the Dragon's Nest customs that defied common sense. This might be an unprecedented breach.
I hugged the lonely-looking woman tight. She flailed her hands in surprise, not knowing where to put them.
"Oh my."
"Me too. Farewell, Ragnarocha. I hope we meet again before my time's up."
Ragnarocha let out an exasperated chuckle. But not unpleasantly—she patted my back lightly and whispered,
"Before your time's up? Too dramatic. I've never done farewells."
"...Really?"
She tilted her head the other way, sighing with tangled conflict.
"Since you're my daughter's lover, I planned to send you off cleanly. But with such cute words and a hug..."
A predatory smile flickered in her eyes. Ragnarocha suddenly gripped the back of my head hard, yanking me to her shoulder. She whispered roughly into my startled ear,
"It makes me recall that night—good enough to leave regrets."
"Ah."
She released me quickly and savored my stumbling retreat with delight.
...Behind that eye smile lurked a centuries-old sly monster. I vowed never to forget it. I might face the beast I'd awakened again soon.
Truth be told, it wasn't fear—it was thrilling. Ragnarocha's smile no longer looked lonely.
The warship lifted into the sky like a lie. Unlike the jolting cabin Nidroga had carried our party in, this was on another scale entirely. Stability too. I'd worried about seasickness, but with no shaking underfoot, I relaxed.
The sailors seemed the same. The Handgun crew shared optimistic outlooks on the unexpectedly pleasant trip.
That peace shattered with a bold declaration from a certain crossdressing navigator.
Morgan thrust her chin up proudly.
"I'm transferring, Dad."
"To where."
"The Special Monster Extermination Unit party."
"Where's that."
"The one you first called a ladies' friendship fest."
The crew panicked. Not just because they didn't know Morgan was a woman yet. Whispers grew loud.
'Transferring to another party? Before the contract ends, just like that?'
'Even family wouldn't openly ditch a state-backed privateer captain—'
"Permission granted."
Captain Alistair Tomco scratched his ear and replied indifferently. The crew panicked more.
A thick-armed helmsman coughed awkwardly and poked his head in.
"...Captain?"
"What."
"If I may advise cautiously, the party the navigator mentioned is women-only—"
"Morgan, show 'em."
Morgan boldly undid her hair, revealing her feminine figure beneath the coat. The captain stopped her as she grabbed her chest without turning.
"I didn't say strip bare. If you wanna see me shoot every leering bastard one by one, go ahead."
"Can't do that. No matter my affiliation, Handgun crew are my precious comrades."
"Smart thinking. And if any of you are secretly thinking, 'Women are bad luck at sea— that's why my constipation's lasted days,' speak now. I'll gladly widen and blast your asses with powder and steel."
"He says so. Don't even think it. They're my precious comrades."
Morgan shrugged like it was settled. The crew gaped innocently.
They'd never imagined the respected navigator they'd shared meals and hardships with was a woman.
"A woman?"
"She was a woman."
"...I kinda suspected, Navigator. It messed with my identity for nights. If I confess my love now, will you— I'll shut up! Sorry, Captain! Spare me!"
Captain Tomco, who'd restrained himself admirably, holstered the pistol he'd once used to blow off Adamanthon's legs. Morgan teased her dad with a raised brow.
"You're taking it way more coolly than expected. Why?"
"I've sailed every tub out there growing up, so broadening your horizons ain't bad. That lot can teach you plenty. Right, 'Ran Bantai'?"
...Why me all of a sudden...?
"Y-yes."
"Morgan, settle your pay from the accounts yourself. Gotta find a new bookkeeper. And Bantai, follow me. Got words."
"...Words about—"
"My daughter. Since she's joining your party, I'm saying take care."
"...You could say it here—"
"Follow."
The captain growled. I glanced over the rail. Flying made the sea look impossibly far—unlike slicing through waves. No swimming if pushed; heart'd stop first.
I swallowed and trailed Tomco.
He locked the captain's cabin door as I entered, then slumped into his chair with a earth-shaking sigh. I stiffened by the door; he irritably pointed to the opposite seat.
"Don't quiver."
"...If that's 'sit,' I'll sit. But I swear I never hid anything from you—"
"Not scared of the woman who crushes dragons by force, but waited for my permission? Don't play funny."
Tomco dry-washed his face, sighed again, paused mid-rub, and side-eyed me.
"Did you?"
"...Pardon?"
"Told you no funny business. You sought the Lord's hideout under pretense of seeing her daughter. Stayed the whole night. Next day, the Lord—not her daughter—shows up beaming at trial, granting Manselrion Storm historically unprecedented mercy."
"...Th-that..."
"Some'll say she's trying a new benevolent line unlike past Lords' terror. Most witnesses'll call my guess baseless—that she just decided to forgive Manselrion."
"...I think that too...?"
"Yeah, it's the rational take. But you're irrational. Anyone touching Morgan Tomco on Alistair Tomco's ship? I'd diagnose 'em lunatic without hesitation."
Lately, facts kept slapping me. I never knew such a feral beast slept in Tan Bantai's meek persona. Not pride—self-loathing. Felt like I'd die before my time.
"You're a mad bastard. Asking again. Did you?"
"...I'll hold my tongue. If even a whisper leaks from my nonsense—"
"Lord snaps our necks, and our corpses sail back on the Handgun, Viking funeral-style—whole ship torched to hell."
Tomco stared like I was an unbearable bomb. The famed captain fearing me brought terror over pride.
"What the hell possessed you for that stunt? Pray you didn't beg the Lord you bedded for Manselrion's mercy."
"...Are you a fortune teller? How'd you—"
"...You're way madder than I thought. Here's the deal."
Tomco must've gotten divine revelation. As I eyed him suspiciously, he switched to unexpected courtesy.
"Anyway, you've got Dragon Lord connections. Signs point to... whatever. From now on, I treat you as equal ally. Use my name in a pinch. Need sea routes or troops? My crew's yours."
"...That's huge. Not sure I deserve it, but I'm truly grateful."
"One request. My daughter."
"Morgan?"
"...I don't get it. Fine with you having multiple lovers? Checked with reliable sources—no brainwashing or hypnosis. Morgan commits if she commits. Better her burning ships or gunning my head again? No choice but accept."
She'd threatened my head too. Even Dad couldn't handle her temper.
Stroking his stress-wrinkled eyes, Tomco extended a hand for a shake.
"Dropping pride to beg. Don't let tears fall from her eyes... or I swear, Ishtar or Lord be damned, I'll turn you to chum."
I swallowed hard. And took the handshake.