Suffolk Duke (3)
That made sense, because the dragon Austin summoned was none other than the famously flashy frilled dragon.
These creatures had massive, scarf-like frills around their necks that they could flare open like umbrellas.
"Shaaak!"
The moment the frilled dragon burst from the Dragon Scroll, it unfurled its frill.
The crowd gasped in awe at the orange-and-dark-red folds.
"Whoaaa!"
"That's incredible!"
"No way! That thing could chew up an ogre!"
At over 25 meters long, the medium-sized dragon exuded an overwhelming presence.
The spectators were impressed, but not Owen.
It wasn't a good sign. Frilled dragons only flared their frills when threatened or stressed.
In normal situations, they wouldn't.
Something's off. Frilled dragons are sensitive, sure, but they're usually trained not to get excited by crowds. That one feels like... a wild specimen barely leashed.
Owen spotted something else suspicious.
Blinders—like those on racehorses to block side vision—were strapped over the dragon's eyes, forcing it to see only straight ahead.
The crowd soon noticed too.
"What's that on its eyes?"
"Dunno? Probably some necessity."
"Eye protection?"
They had no idea what it meant.
Owen did.
Got it. Definitely not a normal situation.
There was one reason to blind a frilled dragon like that: to sneak onto its back unnoticed.
In other words, this idiot Austin hadn't properly tamed his own dragon.
Owen saw an opportunity to exploit it.
Then, unfamiliar text floated above Austin's dragon.
Intimacy with Rider: -7
Owen's eyes widened.
This had appeared naturally once he focused on Austin and the frilled dragon's relationship.
Wonder what -7 intimacy even means?
He instinctively glanced at Grenville.
Intimacy with Rider: 85
"Aha."
Compared to Grenville, it was trash-tier.
Now Owen could see three pieces of info on the frilled dragon.
Potential: E-rank
Emotional State: Anxious
Low potential, low intimacy, and an agitated dragon. A total mess.
Austin, meanwhile, misinterpreted Owen's surprise at the intimacy level.
"Can't shut your mouth at the majesty of my frilled dragon, eh?"
He sounded a bit more confident now, thinking Owen looked weak.
Owen, on the other hand, was dumbfounded by Austin's quick arrogance.
"Hey, Owen. Why don't you summon yours? It'll get smashed quick! Heh heh!"
What the hell does he think he's got?
Even cautious Owen wondered if there was some hidden trick.
But he concluded an idiot who couldn't control his own dragon had nothing.
"Even trash can startle people sometimes."
Shaking his head, Owen pulled out his Dragon Scroll and summoned Grenville.
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"Euuung!"
Grenville appeared with its usual high-pitched whine.
Cheers erupted far louder than for the frilled dragon.
"Whoaaa! A red dragon!"
"Never seen one like that in my life!"
"A Tokay dragon in that color? Insane!"
The frilled dragon's display was impressive, but nothing compared to a Super Red.
Especially one as vividly colored as Grenville—something you might see once in a lifetime.
"Never even seen a variant like that."
"Size isn't the issue. That small Super Red has more presence."
The citizens of Bris, used to dragons, had sharp eyes.
Austin started losing confidence again as the mood shifted.
But without bluster, he wouldn't be Austin.
He forced a loud laugh.
"Kuhahaha! What're you gonna do with that puny thing?"
"It's not about size. It's about handling your dragon well."
Owen's retort cut deep.
Austin bit his lip, feeling it.
"You bastard!"
Soon, both mounted their dragons with tournament lances.
The size difference was clear.
But no one could predict the winner.
Austin posed dramatically, lance aimed.
"Owen Leire! Apologize for your rudeness now, and I'll show mercy."
Owen's response was simple: he turned away, ignoring him, and looked at the Surpuk Duke.
A silent demand to start now.
Ignored, Austin trembled with rage. The Surpuk Duke chuckled.
"Good! Begin!"
The moment the Surpuk Duke signaled, Owen urged Grenville forward.
Austin's frilled dragon reacted instantly.
"Shuaaak! Shaaak!"
It flared its neck frill wide and reared up hugely.
Its gaping maw was filled with triangular shark-like teeth.
It looked ready to lunge and tear them apart.
But Owen was unfazed.
Maintaining distance, he explained to Grenville.
"Frilled lizards are known for bad tempers, but they're actually cowards bluffing like that. As long as you don't act hostile, it won't attack."
"Euung?"
Grenville tilted its head.
But Owen went further—he dismounted.
Not thrown off, so no loss, but it shocked the crowd.
"What? Forfeiting?"
"Weird. What's going on?"
Even the relaxed Surpuk Duke looked surprised, stroking his white beard with furrowed brows.
Austin's noble cronies cheered excitedly.
"Austin! Attack now!"
"Go!"
Perfect timing to crush Owen.
But Austin couldn't move.
He hadn't tamed his dragon properly.
Just snuck on using blinders.
It worked because of the frilled dragon's traits: sensitive and impatient, they attacked anything entering their range automatically.
Austin could fight without real control.
A true cheat tactic.
Other dragons ignore poorly bonded riders or flee.
But frilled dragons' instincts made it look like rider skill to outsiders.
The Russell family had schemed hard to fake Austin's talent.
But Owen saw through it instantly.
He targeted the weakness: dismounting.
"Grenville, don't threaten it."
"Euung?"
Grenville cocked its head again.
It looks plenty threatening already. No threatening?
Grenville couldn't grasp it.
But Owen's command was firm.
"Show friendly intent."
"Et!"
Grenville lifted its head dubiously.
Owen insisted, even pulling meat from his saddlebag.
"Share this with that one."
"Et... "
Grenville whined reluctantly but obeyed.
The crowd was baffled.
Why dismount? Why was Austin just watching?
They didn't know frilled dragons only attack within range—and the flared frill was a 'stay back' warning.
But with Owen lowering his lance and Grenville signaling peace—plus meat offered—the situation flipped.
"Shaaak?"
The frilled dragon, moments from savagery, slowly retracted its frill.
Austin on its back meant nothing to it.
It had just planned to counter whatever attacked.
Friendly signals and food melted its hostility fast.
"Shaaak."
Its frill fully relaxed.
It knew the red dragon meant no fight.
It flicked its tongue at the meat, then gulped it down.
"Shak!"
It bobbed its head happily.
Owen sealed it with his own friendly gesture: raising his right arm and circling it slowly.
"Shaaak~!"
The frilled dragon relaxed completely.
Emotional State: Relieved
Its do-or-die attitude vanished.
These dragons cooled off as quickly as they heated up.
The crowd couldn't hide their bewilderment.
"What just happened?"
"The dragons aren't fighting?"
"It just flopped down!"
The frilled dragon sprawled lazily on the ground, done with it all.
Austin, riding it, freaked out and yelled.
"You bastard! Get up! What the hell?!"
He kicked its back in panic, but it was useless.
Ticklish at best to the giant dragon.
"Get up, I said!"
As everyone gaped at the absurdity, only Austin sweated and screamed.
Utterly clownish.
Owen leaned on his lance shaft, watching.
Then he burst out laughing.
"Hahahahaha!"
Laughter spread like wildfire.
Austin flailing alone while his dragon ignored him was hilarious.
The crowd roared.
"Kuhahaha! What is that?!"
"Hahaha! Can't even control his own dragon!"
"The Russells have an idiot!"
"Dumbass!"
The fierce, bear-like easterners mocked mercilessly, noble son or not.
It was that embarrassing.
Owen shouted.
"Can't a dragon knight handle his own dragon? Or did you lull it to sleep out of sheer confidence?"
"Shut up, you!"
Rage and shame flushed Austin's face beet red.
Born noble, he'd never endured such humiliation.
The world spun; his stomach churned.
Everyone laughed at him.
He snapped.
"I won't let this slide!"
Austin leaped off and ran to a watching noble friend.
"Hey, you!"
"Give it!"
He snatched a real sword from the other's belt.
The crowd gasped.
"Heavens!"
"Stop him!"
But too late—Austin charged Owen with the forbidden real blade.
"I'll kill you!"
Blind with fury.
Yet Owen stayed calm facing the demon-rushing foe.
A real sword was threatening, but that's all.
This brat posed no issue.
"Die!"
As Austin barreled forward kicking up dust, Owen thrust his tournament lance.
The spear's superior reach smashed Austin's face instantly.
The wooden tip instead of a blade spared his life.
Thwack!
The shaft bent sharply on impact.
Blood sprayed; Austin's neck snapped back.
Thud!
He dropped his sword, crashed backward, and lay spread-eagled like a giant X—motionless, seemingly dead.
Owen was nonchalant.
He knew it was just a knockout blow.
Shouldering his lance, he addressed the fallen, nose-bleeding Austin.
"Limbs intact, so the bet's honored."
Satisfied, Owen raised a hand to the walls.
Cheers exploded.
"Yeeaaahhh!"
The crowd loved the bizarre ending.
Especially seeing the Russell fool flattened in one hit.
"Uhahaha! Staring at the blue sky, not getting up."
"Might be awake. Too embarrassed to move."
"Makes sense! Kuhahaha!"
Many in Bris learned of Owen Leire and his red dragon that day.
"Owen!"
"Owen!"
The chants burned his name into minds.
Austin, meanwhile, suffered irrecoverable shame.
This defeat would haunt his life forever.
All he could do was kick blankets before bed.
"Excellent!"
The watching Surpuk Duke stood and bellowed.
"Superb! Owen of the Leire family! You crushed that Russell moron! He's just embarrassing his father and house today!"
His curses were unrestrained, as always.
He addressed the noble youths too.
"You lot, scram! Bunch of posers. All you can do is gawk with mouths open? I'll only take greetings from Owen!"
A private audience with the east's top power.
The Surpuk Duke granted the victor huge favor; the others gaped in shock and envy.
"What? Private with His Grace?"
"Greetings only to Owen?!"
"Heavens! Smooth sailing ahead for him!"
Of course, a Surpuk Duke audience wasn't casual chat.
It meant new plans involving him.
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