So That's Called a Tsundere?

In a word, she's a tsundere?

Her body had filled out plump and round, her scales gleaming with a healthy luster. And most striking of all—half-hidden behind that grumpy scowl—two blue eyes that looked remarkably clever.

A hatchling in this condition had to have parents somewhere, raising her.

You could call the creature guarding the cave earlier a dragon's subordinate, but that monstrosity had never truly been alive at all. It had no life force, no self. Even its soul seemed faint, as if it had simply been manufactured.

Made for one purpose: to guard.

'...Made?'

"Uu, uuuu..."

Pweeeeee—!!

Kwagagagaga!!!

A blizzard burst from the hatchling's gaping jaws and swallowed the entire cave.

As the deadly cold raged, the hordes of monsters that had made their homes on this mountain could no longer endure the Dragon Fear and went mad, scattering in every direction.

Kugugugung...

Hatchling or not, a dragon was still a dragon. A blizzard breath taken head-on like that carried enough destructive force to vaporize even the strongest knight in a single breath.

"Kyiii...?"

And yet the hatchling still hung there, suspended in the air.

She turned her trembling eyes toward me. Toward my face, hair whipped every which way, feeling wonderfully refreshed.

"...That feels nice."

"Uuuuuuu..."

"Her mana output is anything but normal."

It made no sense for a hatchling this remarkable to be guarded by a single sentinel construct. There had to be a parent—or something else—feeding and raising her. You could argue the construct was the one caring for her, but given how emotionally stable the child was, I doubted a soulless sentinel could have managed that.

'It's faint, but she's learning magic. Someone must have taught her.'

Besides, she wasn't strong enough to spread that deadly cold beyond the snowy mountain the way Lethes had described. Her mana reserves were tremendous for a hatchling—but that was where it ended.

Which meant this was almost certainly the work of another dragon. Presumably the child's parent.

Squirm squirm!

"Hold still, will you?"

"Uuuuuu!!!"

The longer I held her, the more violently she thrashed. All that energy—clearly she had parents somewhere...

Shwip!

"...!"

She had touched my cheek.

Blood trickled down in a thin red line.

The upper joint of her left wing had glowed violet for an instant—and then the hatchling's left hand had carved a gash across my cheek. Despite the protection of my divinity and my hardened body, she had cut through it with almost dismissive ease.

And the most alarming part was that I was currently in my baseline state. Fully restored—not the adjusted, balanced-down version I'd used during the Mock Siege Battle. In this condition, even Leo would need to unleash her ultimate abilities or beyond just to leave a scratch on me.

"Uu!"

Whoosh!

While I was still reeling from the wound, the hatchling tore free of my grip, scrambled backward, and stuck her rear out as far as it would go. Grrrr... like a cat, she began hissing a warning, coiled to spring at any moment.

Oblivious to all of it, I stood frozen in shock, unable to act rashly.

'With just a swing of her claws?'

No—come to think of it, the breath hadn't even scratched me. Being a frost dragon, she could whip up a ferocious blizzard, but it was nowhere near enough to deal real damage.

And yet a single scratch had wounded me.

Even more startling was the fact that the wound was refusing to heal.

Ssssss...

A cold so sharp it bit even into the likes of me was gnawing at the cut. This mana was on a completely different level from that refreshing breath from before.

"You... you're carrying something extraordinary, aren't you."

"Grrrrr..."

Could she be the child of the Dragon Lord? But the Dragon Lord of my era had been the Light Dragon. Even if the mantle had passed down through the ages and the current Dragon Lord was a frost dragon, that raised questions of its own. The Dragon Lord is the head of all dragonkind—the Absolute Lord. No one would leave the Lord's child alone in a cave like this. There would be at least six or seven dragons standing watch nearby.

"Uu!"

Pababak!

The hatchling bolted for the deepest reaches of the cave. She moved far faster than I'd expected.

Pababababa!

Wielding some innate glacier ability, she burrowed deeper into the cave like a skater carving across ice. If I went all-out I could catch her, but even then, it wouldn't improve the situation. So I jogged along at a leisurely pace and simply let her run herself to where she wanted to go.

She scrambled and scrambled until she finally skidded to a halt in front of an enormous rocky outcrop.

"Gotcha."

"Uwuh?!"

And I seized the hatchling by the scruff of her neck. She swung her left hand wildly, but I had already bound her arms with divinity the moment I grabbed her.

Looking again, the colors of her two hands didn't match. Her right was ordinary, but her left hand and claws were the violet of a jeweled crystal—a color that clashed terribly with her snow-white body. Far too peculiar a form for anything draconic.

'The most likely explanation... a fragment of the Demonkin.'

So was this hatchling a demonkin experiment? But she was far too white for that. Most test subjects ended up blackened with corruption or dyed crimson through and through. And if she truly carried demonic energy in her body, I should have noticed the instant I laid eyes on her.

"Ehk."

Sliide.

I lulled the hatchling into a brief sleep, then surveyed our surroundings. On the surface, it was just an ordinary rocky hill coated in ice. It was a little strange that a space this vast existed inside the cave, but nothing seemed outright abnormal. I made one full circuit, then returned to the center of the stone mound.

From here, the outcrop loomed magnificently, impossible to miss.

"......"

I hesitated a moment, then approached the rock face and reached out my hand.

The palm came away cold to the touch. The cut on my cheek still stung with chill. Slowly, the cold ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in my palm and the ache in my cheek both deepened.

Wuuuung...

My divinity seeped into the stone.

Kugugugugung!!

The colossal rock began to move. The ground shook, and the walls of the cave—solid beyond all reason—split apart with cracks running every which way.

No. It was no rock at all.

A sleeping dragon was stirring.

In that instant, a message—'The conditions have been met.'—flashed across my vision and was broadcast to every user on the continent.

"...What?"

Sgaredo...?

"You're leaving?"

"There's nothing left for me to learn here. It's time I moved on."

She bowed her head in farewell. The dragons of this place all seemed strangely reluctant to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠see her go.

Sgaredo in particular had adored her. Forgoing her own home in the glacial ravine, she had spent long hours sparring with her here in the 'Cradle of Dragons,' under warm skies and beating sunlight.

Ordinarily she complained that the weather didn't suit her and skipped their regular meetings entirely—but during that one year of her visit, she practically lived in the Cradle, day in and day out.

Sgaredo had said to her:

"Is there truly any need to help those humans? Even if they are your own kind—humans, like you."

Every dragon gathered here had nodded along with her. The girl claimed to be human, but in truth she was closer to the celestial kin. No—by nearly every measure, she could rightly be called one of them. Her body had long since become that of the celestials, and nearly all the powers she wielded were theirs. No doubt she had learned her techniques from them as well.

And yet here she was, throwing herself into danger after danger for the sake of weak, insignificant humans. It made no sense to any of them.

"Then stay. Stay with us—"

"I'm not helping humans."

"...?"

"How should I put it... hmm."

Ah, right.

"It's self-satisfaction."

"Self-satisfaction?"

"Yes."

A saintess in name only. A savior who had never been able to believe in anyone, never able to save anyone. A being destined, in the end, to stand alone.

"This is the only false good deed someone like me can perform. I never believed in goodness to begin with."

By saving humans, she proved to herself that she was human. By fighting the celestial kin, she proved to herself that she was not one of them. Neither righteous, nor kind. Just that.

"So in a word, she's a tsundere?"

"...Where on earth did you learn a word like that?"

"I spent a year with you, remember? I picked things up. Besides, beings from other dimensions are old news to dragonkind."

"Frankly, that attitude of yours is getting tiresome too."

"Fair. Fair."

".......I'm leaving all the same."

No amount of pleading would change her mind. An ancient dragon who had once shared her techniques with her, and a human bearing the scent of heaven—that exchange had been more than enough.

And so she turned to go.

"Will we meet ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠again?"

"...Perhaps we might. It would take a very, very long time, though."

"Then—!"

"Sgaredo."

Kwagagagaga!!!

I have no intention of returning to this place until every last one of the celestial and demonic kin is dead. Which means the day we face each other again will come only after an age has passed. So please—don't wait for me.

Shshshsh...

But if we do meet again someday...

'I'll greet you with a smile.'

"I'm sorry, Sgaredo."

That smile, it seems, is the one thing I cannot give her.