Fists Are Weapons Too

Thud. Thud. "...It should be around here."

Midway up the Red Mountain. Adella, having climbed for quite a while, pulled out a map from her bosom and unfolded it. A map marked with the precise location of the nest where the Flame Dragon resided. She was supposed to keep going straight up to reach the dragon's lair, but no proper path was in sight. It was all steep inclines that even a horse might struggle with, let alone a person.

"This is troubling."

Of course, she could use her mana-infused sword to hack through trees or hills, but Adella didn't want to do that for some reason. 'This is the land where She dwells.' Damaging the natural landscape like that would surely displease the Flame Dragon. Especially since heroes had already soured Her mood, she needed to be extra careful.

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

Prancing softly... Adella applied a few protective measures to the white steed, symbol of the royal family, then dismounted.

Rustle. Rustle. The higher she climbed, the more she realized just how unmanaged the path was. Paradoxically, there were plenty of human traces, but those were probably from the heroes.

"On the way back, I should clear a path... No, that might trouble the Flame Dragon even more."

With all the weird heroes already wearing Her out, a clear path would just attract even more. Leaving it as is might actually be more helpful.

The mountain was quite steep, but Adella ascended without hesitation. After about two hours of climbing, she stood at the lair's entrance and caressed the blocking boulder.

"You've sealed it off."

Adella tried to calm her pounding heart. Beyond this lay the Flame Dragon. A being who was great, noble, and possessed a heroic saga. What would She look like? In history books or fairy tales, dragons were depicted in their true form or as obscured black silhouettes—never their exact human guise. The common speculation was that She was a beautiful woman.

'A refined beauty? Or perhaps the form of a wise elder.' Whatever the shape, Adella was prepared to be awestruck.

But as she lightly vaulted over the entrance boulder, a familiar face caught her eye.

"Eh, sis?"

"You. Your face looks familiar."

Haring. The low-rank hero who had delivered the Flame Dragon's letter to Adella. She'd thought her a mere errand girl, but to think she was receiving the dragon's teachings.

'She's improved.' Adella noted Haring's changes with slight admiration and scanned the surroundings. Nearby were a few heroes similar to or weaker than Haring.

"I am not your sister, as I've said before."

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

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

"Huh? Well..."

Haring glanced away slightly. Adella followed her gaze.

"?"

In that direction were just a small hero ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and a large one—no sign of the Flame Dragon. Adella shook her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠head to dispel any misunderstanding.

"Worry not. I've only come to deliver a letter from His Majesty. I have no intent to harm Her like some ruffian, nor to cause a commotion."

"Yeah, I know."

"Just tell me Her location."

"I already did."

"...?"

Adella looked again. At the end of her gaze were a brown-haired adult woman chuckling haha and a red-haired girl who looked like a child. Lick. Lick. The girl was eating a colorful stick candy sold in the village. Adella felt something off the moment she saw her but quickly dismissed it.

'No way.' Surely the Flame Dragon wouldn't appear like that. She was a bit cute, but Her being so playful and frivolous? Impossible.

"I'm not joking."

"I'm not joking either."

"...I am carrying out His Majesty's command. Even if you are a hero, do you intend to defy solemn law?"

"Nope."

"I'll ask once more. Where is She?"

Adella placed her hand on her sword hilt, glaring at Haring. She had no intention of drawing it—just enough to intimidate. As their staredown dragged on and a golden glow began to leak from Adella's scabbard...

"I'm serious! She's right there! Right there!"

"...You."

"Yeah, shorty."

"...?"

Tap tap. Adella felt something poking her waist and looked down. There stood the red-haired girl, arms stretched up, grinning cheekily. Flap. Now she noticed the horns and wings...

"Gimme the letter."

"Pardon?"

"Not gonna?"

Eh? ＊

"I've committed a mortal sin! Pray, strike off my head!"

"Kill you?"

"Slay me, I beg!"

"Nope. Don't die."

I grinned down at Adella Measis, the Knight Captain of the Legion Kingdom, who was prostrating herself flat. Hiding my horns and wings, and she still couldn't recognize me? Can't they see the greatness of this Flame Dragon at a glance? Sitting on a rock, I asked, and Adella ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bowed her head even lower.

"Isn't that too much?"

"...My apologies."

"Anyway, you really look like Iri. I thought she came back to life."

"...I strive to follow in her footsteps."

"Yeah, I can tell."

I was genuinely surprised looking at Adella, and the reason was her strength. She looked young, yet already had 6 Stars. I hadn't seen her wield a sword, but reaching Knight Captain at that age meant her skill was beyond question.

"Get up."

"Yes!"

Pop! Adella sprang to her feet in perfect form. Golden hair, golden eyes. Her lines were long and graceful, and that beauty worked on everyone, past and present.

"...Wow, she's stunning."

"Never thought I'd see the Knight Captain in person here..."

"Sis is pretty!"

"Adella! Adella! Adella!"

"Nah, Lea is prettier though."

"Lea is cute..."

The gathered heroes murmured weird stuff, but anyway. I unfolded the letter from Bahamut Legion that Adella had brought.

"Ahem..."

The contents were about as expected. Managing troublesome heroes, strengthening punishment standards and sentences. It wouldn't prevent all incidents, but at least bold ones attacking the lair would decrease. And...

'I have words for you—too long for a letter.'

'It'd be good if you visited the capital once.'

"Not going, duh."

I'd said it a million times, but I planned to laze in the nest for about five years. Normally I'd chase off any heroes and sleep, but I was teaching them out of courtesy. Even for Bahamut's request, this was my limit. No more.

'...But you'd ignore it. Your peace is paramount.'

'If inconvenient, then...'

"Hmm..."

"...Impossible. Why would..."

"Coming at me like this?"

"Y-yes?"

"Nah."

Thud. I folded the read letter, propped my chin, and stared at Adella. As Bahamut predicted, no plans for the capital. But knowing my personality, he made another request.

"Adella."

"Yes."

"Follow me."

＊

"What? What?"

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

"With who? No way Lea?"

"Yep."

"That's possible?"

"Dunno lol"

In the open clearing of the quiet lair, heroes watched from afar as Adella and I faced off with wooden swords.

Adella looked a bit tense. I slung my wooden sword over my shoulder and stared at her.

"A genius...?"

'Adella is a genius. In pure talent, she rivals Iri.'

'Born in an era of active demon wars, she'd have etched her name in history. Peaceful times just hid her light.'

'I hope you can make that talent shine.'

She did seem the part, but...

'Rivals Iri?'

Iri was a swordmaster even top legion commanders found tricky. Genius yes, but rivaling Iri? Too soon.

"Ready?"

"...Ready."

"Go."

Whoosh!! No sooner had I spoken than Adella charged. 6 Mana Cores boosting her body, a trail of boiling golden mana. Even a wooden sword, but no mere wood—power erupted from her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠strike unfit for the name.

Kagagagak!!! I reflexively raised my sword to block. Swords clashed, shockwaves blanketing the lair.

After a brief power struggle, she swung at my lower abdomen; I parried lightly and aimed for her neck.

Clang! Blocked. Her sword flowed like water, instantly deflecting mine. An unnatural sound for wooden swords.

Clang! Claaang! Kakakagak!

Exchanges continued. I pressed her moderately, and she gritted her teeth blocking.

'Not bad.'

Iri Style Swordsmanship. Created by Iri Measis, a technique nightmarish to demons.

'The sword bends.'

Her attacks razor-sharp, but foes' curved away like flowing water, all blocked. Offense and defense guaranteed—Iri's unique style. Not easy, few mastered it, but Adella had perfected it.

"Impressive."

"Th-thank you...!"

"What now?"

Solid defense, but no attack openings. Attrition would favor me. After being pushed endlessly, she finally found her chance.

Crack...!

"!"

"Seems you've forgotten. What Iri Style Swordsmanship is."

Another merit: Blocking stresses the opponent's weapon. The flowing block creates imbalance. A real sword would've lasted longer, but mine was plain wood. As it splintered, Adella swung triumphantly.

I clenched my fist in admiration.

"Your weapon's gone!"

"Fist."

"Fist?"

Smack! My fist slammed into Adella's face.

"Fists are weapons too."