Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Mwahhh (4)
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The odd misunderstanding swirling between me and Ignatus cleared up soon after it arose.
Instead, a new one cropped up.
Ignatus gazed up at me with pitiable eyes. Her plump tail lightly coiled around my thigh as a bonus.
"Um, do you really have to take the skull...?"
"I'm actually curious. What are you planning to do with a bone that big?"
"What do you mean, 'do with it'... Corpses aren't for using—they're for burying in a sunny spot."
"Ah."
I could tell instinctively. This offhand remark, born from my casual familiarity with dragon bone gear, had deepened the misunderstanding far more.
An ancient dragon's bones. Especially ones steeped in deathly aura over a millennium—surely useful in all sorts of ways.
But neither I nor House Zahav delved deeply into magic, so even if I hauled them back somehow, putting them to proper use would be tough.
...Even setting that aside, Ignatus's reaction alone made the idea of claiming Mortheus's bones as spoils evaporate.
As Karen put it, I was far more accustomed to bare-knuckle brawls.
Donning armor or gauntlets at this point would just feel awkward.
A hollow chuckle escaped me as I tried to soothe the stunned Ignatus.
She seemed to steel herself, resolve flickering in her vertically slit pupils.
Eyes holding a red purer than any hue I knew.
"...But without you, Enoch, we'd all be part of the Wild Hunt by now. If House Zahav needs it... take it."
Ignatus gritted her teeth as she said it.
Incomprehensible as ever, yet here she was, a benefactor and friend willingly yielding her kin's remains.
Absurd. Grateful. Burdensome, all at once.
I let out a deep sigh and grabbed both her horns. Then shook vigorously.
"Eueueh?"
"Forget it."
"Eh?"
Her vision jolting wildly left her flustered and sputtering. For her sake, I decided to explain more clearly.
"If it bothers you, Ignatus, then it's not needed."
"Ung?"
Still gripping her horns like handles, she asked cautiously.
"For real? I-I'm fine with it! So don't worry and..."
"I don't backtrack once decided. It's truly fine. Spoils are just a memento anyway, right? Something to ensure time doesn't let me—or anyone else—forget."
"That's usually the case."
"Then it's simple."
I released her horns and shrugged.
"The fact I crushed the Wild Hunt? The last dragon alive for millennia to come will remember it. And the slightly more peaceful continent stands as proof, doesn't it?"
"...Huh?"
I grinned at Ignatus, eyes widening as if the thought never crossed her mind.
"Everyone in this world—especially the West—owes me a debt. My very existence is the achievement, praised eternally by an immortal. No need to cling to spoils."
"Enoch...!"
The moment I finished, her eyes sparkled with profound emotion.
Novel as ever, but far preferable to that half-lidded drowsiness.
Especially since her pupils were fully visible.
I nodded contentedly—until an utterly unavoidable topic arose moments later.
"Commendable! Astonishing! No one taught you, yet you echo the first Zahav!"
"...?"
A chill raced down my spine. The deepening of months-old misunderstandings.
I tried to rein her in somehow...
Too late.
"After sealing the God of Tragedy, Tragodea, he called the world freed from ruin his true spoils! Blood may thin with time, yet not always, it seems."
At that, Karen's eyes gleamed as she latched onto Ignatus.
"Duke Ignatus! Did the first Zahav truly say that? Regrettably, it's not handed down in our Zahav annals... If I may be so bold, could you elaborate?"
"Ung? That's no trouble..."
Ignatus edged away from Karen's intense gaze, slyly pressing against me as she spoke.
"The first Zahav—Rasit Zahav—was obsessed with honorable combat and glorious triumphs. Less a king, more a rough, voracious warrior."
"Ooh... So the progenitor's desire was honor?"
"Ah, that fixation every Zahav must claim at least one? Rasit was gluttonously so."
Not just honor-chasing—a battle fiend who adored women, a glutton, boozer, and smoker besides.
A man reveling in every worldly pleasure.
...Who thus hurled himself gladly to avert the apocalypse.
Such was Ignatus's Rasit Zahav.
Before the Empire's founding. Back when Zahav ruled the South as hegemon, not yet grand duke.
Karen, daughter of Kesef who styled themselves Zahav's shadow, drank in tales scarce even in histories with near-ecstasy.
To others, just wide-eyed blankness...
I knew better. Utterly thrilled. Her breaths came a touch ragged.
Having breezily spun millennium-old yarns for Karen, Ignatus cleared her throat. Her tail whisked me forward before her.
"In that vein, I was startled. Eras differ, foes differ, temperaments worlds apart... yet kindred thoughts."
"Indeed!"
"Frankly, recent Zahav generations puzzled me. But Enoch's devotion swept those doubts away."
"Meaning..."
"Blood endures time's fade. Enoch—you—are Ignatus the Duke's foremost comrade, the West's savior. Eternally remembered!"
"Heup!"
Karen stifled her gasp behind a stoic mask. Mages, reading the mood, clapped—I shook my head.
I'm not Zahav.
Afterward, matters proceeded apace.
Body mended, no further hitches, payment secured as promised.
Only returning to Zahav remained.
As I requested the teleport gate, Ignatus's face fell slightly. Her plump tail drooping limply as bonus.
"Already heading back?"
"Job's done. And you know why."
"...True. A duke cannot long abandon his seat."
Even with her promise to visit, disappointment clung to her.
In the brief silence, she sidled close, tail tip brushing my cheek.
Reptilian scales, yet warm—not cold.
"Then, one final boon."
"Shoot."
"Well... Did this body not dub you friend? Yet I've never heard your view of me."
"Er... Didn't peg this for words."
Had she been a stranger, even continental peril wouldn't have spurred mortal risk.
I'd have given my all, then withdrawn for next chances if needed.
Besides, we'd spent days plastered together under "treatment."
"Obviously, friend. ...Not first, mind."
"Hehe. No sulking over that—worry not. I know the last of my kind is... particular."
Her light giggle turned abruptly solemn.
"Enoch. Lend a hand?"
"Huh?"
I extended it thoughtlessly. She plunged hers into her cleavage—elbow-deep, astonishingly.
"...The hell?"
"What else? That subspace spell you saw. Ah, its spot shifted—my growing dragon heart's mana drew the gate there."
"..."
Magic: wondrous, unfathomable. Surely she'd plucked items from thin air before.
Anyway, after rummaging her bosom ages, she withdrew from a vast mana pouch an even vaster fang.
"This...?"
"Sadly not Father's... Mortheus's. Mine instead—one I yanked."
Pulling one's own tooth for a gift? Okay?
As I cocked my head at draconic sensibilities, she beamed.
...Up close, a canine gap rendered her grin dopey.
"Enoch. Our mana meshes well—you know. So I crammed my sturdiest fang with power. Draw as needed; refill with yours when drained."
"Handy... Yeah. Thanks."
High-capacity backup battery acquired. Risky, yes—but I'd learned mana/aura overloads yielded bursts of might. Versatile for sure.
Stroking the massive tooth idly, Ignatus murmured, faintly abashed.
"Th-that looks cumbersome to tote. Hold on."
She muttered an incantation. Intricate arrays bloomed around her, sheathing the fang. Then—
Flash!
Bright light accompanied its slow shrinkage—to pinky length.
As if prepped, she fetched a slender cord from subspace.
"Woven mithril thread. Unbreakable—necklace-perfect."
She threaded it through, stepped in.
Squish.
Her astounding mana pouch squashed my gut anew. On tiptoe, she clasped the fang necklace around my neck herself.
Nearness. Heat far beyond body warmth evoked our three treatment-trapped days.
Not just me? Her oddly delighted look as she whispered in my ear—
"Enoch. You called this body friend. True?"
"Y-yeah?"
"But full 'Ignatus' between friends? Too stiff. Short names like yours are fine—this is long, tricky."
"So..."
"Need a nickname. Ideally from you."
"Nickname, huh..."
Her vivid red eyes filled my view. Gazing entranced, words slipped out.
"Igni."
"Ung?"
"Igni work?"
"Igni... Splendid."
Igni's lips quirked in a grin, retreating two paces.
Arms akimbo behind, torso bowed slightly.
Her mana pouch thrust forward naturally—my eyes locked despite myself. Fleetingly.
"Then henceforth, Igni Ignatus I am."
"...Not quite how nicknames work."
"Hehe. Back at Zahav, till I visit—learn what it means for a dragon to accept a nickname."
Before I could retort, she waved dismissively, conjuring a familiar oval gate in the air.
"Go on. And soon again."
"Sigh. Fine."
Profound implication there... but as Igni said, I'd investigate home.
Scratching my head, I stood with Karen before the gate.
Just ere crossing, I waved lightly to beaming Igni.
"Catch you later. ...Igni."
Her tail shot rigid at the pet name—gate light engulfed us.
Thus, back to Zahav.
"Pa-Patriarch! Disaster! To the main estate—now!"
"What happened?"
"The Y-Young Lord..."
"Huh?"
"The first Young Lord—thought dead in the dungeon—he's back!"
"???"
Turns out home was a total shitshow.