Punish Them for Me (9)
"Master."
Pelle stood before the bar, her face far stiffer than usual. I'd just been about to pull out the Holy Sword hidden beneath the counter, but her expression told me something was up.
"What's going on?"
Pelle didn't answer right away. She glanced back over her shoulder. The dining hall was packed with lunchtime customers, buzzing noisily. With her back to the room, she spoke low.
"...Is there another dragon here, by any chance?"
I flinched for a split second but kept my cool, lowering my voice to match. "In the hall?"
"Yes."
Excluding Aterugar, any dragon showing up at our inn... had to be Lurtjog. As a demon attuned to monsters, Pelle must have sensed him right away. Lurtjog would know she'd clocked him too.
I quietly set the Holy Sword back down and straightened up. "Where?"
"The table I'm about to serve."
Pelle picked up a tray of food and wove through the crowd to a table in the corner of the hall. A man sat there. Shaggy brown hair, a somewhat downcast look—wearing a thick quilted coat that didn't quite fit the season. Nothing special about him at all. If you weren't looking closely, you'd miss him entirely; there were enough guys like him in town to fill a cart.
As Pelle brought the plates over, he half-stood awkwardly, taking the dishes with both hands and bowing his head.
No matter how I squinted, he didn't look like some ferocious blue dragon. More like a timid young guy just scraping by.
As she finished serving and turned back, Pelle met my eyes and gave the tiniest nod.
When she returned, I asked, "That guy... what kind of dragon? Blue dragon?"
"Seems like it."
Damn, spot on. So why the hell had this bastard suddenly shown up at our inn? He must have tracked Aterugar here—that much was clear. But how did he even know she was at the inn? As far as I knew, dragons didn't have some special sense for detecting each other.
Maybe he just knew she was somewhere in the city and stopped by for a bite. If he'd been sure, he'd have lightning-breath'd the place like he did in Myanfeld.
So for now, assume he's just here to eat... But why not go full rampage like before? Testing the waters in the city, maybe? Seeing how things stand?
"He's the one chasing Aterugar. The bastard who attacked Myanfeld."
Pelle's face darkened. "Then... shouldn't he not be here?"
"Yeah. I need to talk to him. You go upstairs and tell Aterugar to stay in her room, no matter what. Lurtjog's here."
"And... he's a guest. No checkout date set."
"Shit..."
Was this prick aware Bue had the southern road blocked and figured he'd take his time hunting Aterugar?
"Move Aterugar to the third floor. Have her room with Kosa for now."
Pelle grabbed a broom and mop and headed up the stairs. To anyone watching, she was just a waitress off to clean a room.
I poured a beer and approached Lurtjog's table. He looked up from quietly spooning his food, head bowed low.
"Hello. Innkeeper here."
"Ah... yes..."
Lurtjog half-rose, bowing his head in greeting.
"First time at our inn? Here—for first-timers, a free beer on the house."
"Th-thank you..."
He mumbled softly as he took the mug. I flashed a smile and sat across from him. He panicked, clearly at a loss, fidgeting like crazy. Seemed shy as hell... Unusual for a dragon that feared nothing.
"How's the food?"
"Y-yes... delicious..."
"Glad to hear it. Give the beer a try too. Special stuff, sourced from out of town."
"Y-yes..."
He nodded repeatedly and took a sip. Then coughed.
"Koff koff...! Sorry... went down the wrong way..."
A tiny spark popped from his mouth as he coughed. Blue dragon confirmed.
As he set down the mug and fumbled for a napkin, his spoon clattered to the floor.
"Sorry..."
He bent under the table to grab it, then cracked his head on the edge standing up.
"You okay?"
"Y-yes... fine..."
He wiped the fallen spoon on a napkin and went to resume eating. I raised a hand and called for Idi.
She hurried over with a fresh spoon. Lurtjog waved both hands frantically.
"No, no... this one's fine... no need for a new one..."
"Still... hand over the one that hit the floor."
Idi swapped it out, and he bowed excessively, groveling.
"Sorry... causing trouble for nothing..."
"Nah, no trouble at all. We could use more polite, respectable guests like you every day."
Lurtjog hunched his shoulders and nodded vigorously.
"This city's a must-stop between the kingdom's north and south. All kinds pass through. But a dragon guest? First one."
He snapped his head up. Surprise filled his timid eyes.
"H-how did you...?"
"Demon staff mentioned it. Said we had some important guest."
"Ah... a demon... yes..."
"Honored to have you. If it's not too rude, may I have your name?"
He hesitated a bit, then spoke. "Lurtjog... Probably the first time you've heard it..."
Bingo. He'd chased Aterugar all the way here.
So... I had to kill him. Problem was, dragon polymorphs happened in the blink of an eye. The Holy Sword's lightning might not be enough for an instant kill, given his resistance. If he went berserk from a non-lethal hit, we were screwed.
Had to sever his head physically... but I wasn't confident I could do it before he shifted. Too risky a gamble.
If he transformed here, the inn was toast. And if he got off a breath attack in the chaos, hundreds of meters would be flattened. If it hit downtown or City Hall... unthinkable.
Best to corner him somewhere remote, but I hadn't expected this sudden drop-in as a guest.
I kept my face neutral, tilting my head. "Ah, are you perhaps... the one who toppled the Demon King's castle and saved humanity...?"
"No no...!"
Lurtjog shot to his feet, waving both hands and shaking his head. "I've heard that's the rumor, but... I didn't do it... It's burdensome... that misunderstanding..."
"Ah... got it."
What the hell kind of guy is this? A real dragon? The one who overwhelmed a red dragon and vaporized a city? Laughable.
"So, what brings a noble dragon like you to a human city?"
"Well... looking for someone. A little sister I lost long ago..."
Little sister, my ass. Nausea crept up, but I forced my expression steady. Even if he was lying, I already knew from Kosa—he'd trashed Myanfeld, obsessed with young dragons. A pedo-dragon.
"Heard she was staying in this city... so..."
Mid-sentence, Lurtjog's eyes sharpened, glaring at something. I whipped my head around, fearing Aterugar had come down. But it was just Marim, slinging on her massive delivery bag.
As big as she was, she waved cheerfully to Francois—"Back soon!"—and headed out.
Lurtjog's eerie, gleaming eyes tracked her all the way to the door.
"Dragon?"
He didn't respond, staring as she shut the door behind her.
"Dragon?"
"Ah...? Yes...?"
Only after she was gone did he snap out of it and look at me.
"What were you staring at?"
"Sorry... seeing a young girl just reminds me of my sister..."
Back to the timid youth, he bowed his head.
Not your sister. Just young girls in general.
"Uh... where was I? Right... she lived in Myanfeld. You might not know, but..."
"Something happened there, yeah."
"Yes... heard the refugees came here. Thought maybe my sister too..."
I was too stunned to speak. His un-dragon-like personality, and this pedo spouting about his "little sister"—disgusting.
A normal dragon would've boasted: Yeah, I wrecked it, here for the hatchling that got away.
This Lurtjog was a slimy, creepy disgrace to dragons. Better an arrogant brute who crushed everything.
Sigh... gotta kill the bastard. Can't attack now—that's insane. Tough even in the city... fail to one-shot, and massive damage.
Have to lure him far out and finish him. Can't just grab his collar...
But... not impossible. If it doesn't work, make it work. No path? Forge one.
Lurtjog finished eating and said he'd check the refugee camp. Might find his "sister" there. I wished him luck as he left the inn—then bolted upstairs to the third floor.