Traces of the Dragon (1)
“H-here… this is the list of goods we received…”
“Hm.”
I examined the document Hera handed me. The items that had arrived from the Vanderbilt family were as follows.
First, food supplies. As I’d mentioned before, these would be distributed first to those who’d been working without pay up until now. Any leftovers would all go into storage to be handed out as wages.
Next, seeds. Date palm saplings and corn. Just these two kinds, but that was all we needed right now. The date palms could grow around the oasis in the center of the village without any major issues.
Corn would require proper farming techniques, but with the quantity we had and its short growth period compared to other crops, it was exactly what our territory needed at the moment.
Then timber. Essential materials for expanding the mine and properly shoring up the interior to prevent collapses. The existing supports had been neglected for too long and needed replacing.
And finally, clothing and mining tools.
“Hmm…”
I wasn’t satisfied with the types and quantities of trade goods listed in the document.
“W-why? What’s wrong…?”
Hera asked timidly, noticing my grunt.
“Hera.”
“Y-yes…?”
“They sent more goods than what I paid for, right?”
“Y-yeah… Master said to…”
“I’m really grateful—hell, I’d get down on my knees and kowtow if I could.”
The document was just one page since there weren’t that many types of items. But it was too simple. It didn’t specify how much I’d originally paid for or how much extra had been added.
“We need to be precise about this. Lady Vanderbilt won’t keep showering me with favors forever.”
“Y-yeah, probably…”
“Hm? What was that?”
“N-nothing… You’re right. My mistake… I’ll rewrite it properly and show you…”
“Good, thanks. You can go now.”
I asked Hera to redo the document in more detail and turned to the other reports. But the presence in front of my desk didn’t leave.
“Why haven’t you gone?”
“…Sh-should I really go…?”
“I said you can go. Don’t you have stuff your master assigned you? And I’m busy too.”
“…Got it. Um… can I look around the topaz mine…?”
“Yeah, you can go in. Just don’t mine and steal any on your own.”
“I wouldn’t… I’ll really head out now…?”
“Yeah.”
“……”
-Scritch. Scritch.
I was scribbling away at my plans until the quill tip wore down. To put it simply, I was swamped.
Sigh. If I didn’t have a mountain of work, I’d have kept Hera sitting beside me to fondle her a bit. But duty calls.
With Hera gone, I pondered the corn farming issue.
You can’t farm in a desert like you would on normal land, or you’re doomed. Sand drains water too fast, wasting what little we had, so our territory needed a different approach.
But luckily, I knew how to maximize water efficiency in a desert from my past life. Articles I’d skimmed about farming techniques in Saudi Arabia and other Middle Eastern countries. Simple, effective stuff—not easy to forget.
Maybe I need to head back to the continent.
We needed technicians, and that would solve it. For now, hold off on corn and plant the date palms first.
As I sorted things out, a gust of wind blew in from behind me—through the window of my office. It wasn’t natural, and there was a presence too. Someone had entered.
“People use doors. It’s common sense.”
“Hng. That takes too long.”
The slightly drowsy, childish voice belonged to Eldra. This rare dragon had arrived with Hera. She’d eyed me curiously first, glanced around, then said,
‘I’m Eldra. As you can see, a dragon. Gonna look around a bit.’
And flown off. No intention of hiding her dragon nature.
“Why do humans always get scared when they see me?”
She plopped into the chair in front of me and asked. Was she asking me? Or just musing aloud?
“Huh? Why do you think? You know?”
The former, apparently.
“’Cause you’re a dragon. Dragons are known to be moody, and you’re apex predators. Makes sense.”
“Yeah, the saintess told me that too. But…”
Eldra stood, approached me, and grinned slyly.
“Why aren’t you scared?”
“……”
Why wasn’t I scared of Eldra? Two reasons.
First, she was just a young dragon out satisfying her curiosity. She might look threatening, but there was no malice. Pure intrigue.
Second… well, anyone who’d read the original would know. Eldra was actually
‘You’re total dogshit.’
A dragon with bloodline issues, unable to wield her full power. Sure, she’d still crush me, but knowing the story, I couldn’t help seeing her as weak. That bloodline problem was why she was so curious too—her dragon eyes didn’t work right, leaving her ignorant compared to other dragons.
“Anyway, skipping that. Why are you here? Having a dragon in my territory isn’t great for the lord.”
“Aw, that hurts. I’m not planning anything bad?”
“Sure, I believe you.”
“Hng. You really do, huh?”
Sigh. How should I handle this ambiguously heroine-like existence?
Eldra was a female character from part 2, but calling her a heroine was iffy. She’d get involved with the hero, then vanish chasing some new interest, repeating the cycle. Not quite a heroine, though—the hero liked her. She was a stunning beauty, and her revealing outfit kept drawing his eyes to her chest.
What was it again? Something about feeling like he had to look after her…?
I didn’t remember exactly, but Arthur had that sentiment toward her. Like she was a kid left by the water’s edge—he felt he had to protect her.
Sigh, Arthur, you idiot…
The original ended with him defeating the Demon King, no pairings. I kept reading for the side stories to resolve it.
But I died before finishing them.
So I didn’t know how Arthur and the heroines ended up. Up to where I left off, he was still waffling—accepting he loved all the heroines but agonizing over how to confess.
No way he stayed single till the end… though with that guy, maybe.
Stuck in the novel world, was I supposed to hate Arthur or the author?
“Hey. This place.”
“My territory?”
“Yeah, that too. This desert.”
Eldra kept talking to me as I reviewed reports. I was a bit curious what she’d say—and figured I’d hear her out quick and shoo her away.
Where the hell did she pick up that outfit?
Deep cleavage and bare shoulders. She showed that to Arthur too? Pissing me off in so many ways.
“What about the desert?”
“I smell something like me here.”
“Smell?”
“Yeah. A smell. Traces of a dragon, I guess… I feel it. And you have a similar scent. That’s why I’m so intrigued. Curious.”
I’d meant to brush it off lightly, but Eldra’s words weren’t so easy to dismiss.
Back in the north again. With Hera and Eldra gone, it felt a bit quieter to Cecily. Partly because they’d left, but the monsters had calmed down too.
“Lady Lily. You barely ate again today. There’s nothing I can do about your stamina, though.”
“…I’m not hungry…”
Cecily looked troubled at the rabbit beastkin sitting motionless in the room.
The monster attack at the baron’s estate not long ago. The beastkin Arthur had saved amid it. When she’d asked her name after recovery, she’d first said she had none, then changed it to Lily. Cecily thought it a cute, pretty name fitting the white rabbit girl.
But unlike the name, Lily was utterly listless. Like she didn’t know what to do. She just sat on the bed every day. It tugged at Cecily’s heart—likely from a childhood as a slave.
“…I want to find the one who saved me.”
Whenever Cecily asked what she wanted or desired, this was the only answer.
She’d told Arthur about it.
“I’ll go talk her into it. I’m the one who saved her, after all.”
Arthur entered Lily’s room confidently. Cecily watched from behind.
“Lily. You’re not a slave anymore. The saintess removed your collar and engraving. You can do whatever you want now.”
“……”
“Tell me what you want, what you desire. I’ll help.”
“I want to find… the one who saved me.”
“I saved you, Lily. I cleared the monsters in the manor, found you collapsed and bleeding. Right, Lady Cecily?”
“…Yes, that’s true. I saw it.”
Cecily had seen Arthur, gravely wounded, carrying Lily to safety. She’d witnessed it herself, yet Lily insisted it wasn’t him. Frustrating.
And Lily had never directly told Arthur he wasn’t the one. He had saved her, technically. But she was certain it wasn’t him. A beastkin instinct, hard for a lifelong slave like her to articulate.
“Sigh… alright, then? Once you find the one who saved you, what do you want to do?”
Arthur backed off a step and asked what she’d do if she found him.
Lily finally replied.
“That… he’d decide.”
Not an answer. She was surrendering herself entirely to some unknown man.
Arthur eventually said he’d talk to her later and left. Now only Cecily and Lily remained.
“Lady Lily.”
“……”
“What if the one you’re looking for is a bad person? If he asks you to do something awful, would you still accept?”
He’d saved her, but no guarantee he was good. Cecily had to ask.
“…Even so… he saved me…”
She’d follow his will regardless.
To Cecily, Lily’s sense of self was too eroded. Years as a slave had weakened her ability to think and act independently.
“…Do you remember anything about the one who saved you? I saw the hero carrying you out. But you don’t think it’s him—why?”
“…Wound. He’d have a wound on his shoulder…”
“A wound?”
Lily’s answer cleared up Cecily’s confusion.
She’d been surrounded by monsters, near death, when a man called her Lily and saved her. He’d taken a monster’s fang to the shoulder, left her in a safe room, and vanished.
I should ask the hero.
Cecily decided to check if it matched Arthur’s memory. She went out and approached him.
“Hero. When you found Lady Lily in the manor, what was the situation?”
“Hm… We entered the manor, searched corridors in case anyone was trapped. Heard a noise from a room, went in—there she was. Probably dragged herself there after getting hurt.”
“Ah… Did you get any wounds from monsters in the manor?”
“I’m the hero. Can’t let trash like that touch me.”
If Lily was telling the truth, Cecily knew it wasn’t Arthur. When she told him,
“Maybe Lily’s memory is fuzzy? There was no one else there but us.”