Chapter 69
Chapter 69
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 69
Chapter Title: Unscheduled Transfer Exam (7)
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As soon as the introductions were over, Yeomyeong turned his head to scan the surroundings.
Weapons aimed at them from all sides, soldiers with tense expressions, and officers rushing into the warehouse.
The most eye-catching among them was the bronze-skinned officer with stars on his uniform.
Even from a distance, his fierce expression and mana were unmistakable at a glance.
Behind him stood a horde of superhumans, including the one whose arm Yeomyeong had severed, looking like they'd scraped together every superhuman at the Manchu Base.
'They're saying they'll fight if we make one wrong move.'
But that wouldn't happen. Yeomyeong gave the officer a light smile before turning back.
The dragon wiped the blood from its eyes and spoke.
[Earthling Cheon Yeomyeong. What do you desire from me?]
"Nothing."
[...?]
"The price has already been more than paid by your friend."
Yeomyeong held up the jade seal demonstratively as he spoke. The dragon stared at it for a moment, then tilted its head as if unable to comprehend.
"You'll... let me go just like this?]
"Yeah."
Yeomyeong shrugged affirmatively.
The dragon narrowed its eyes and thrust its face close to Yeomyeong's. So close he could feel its breath.
[I cannot understand. I sought to bring disaster upon your lands.]
"But you lost first."
[Which makes it all the more puzzling. I am a defeated avenger. Will you truly forsake the victor's rights and the right to vengeance?]
Its voice was calm, as if genuinely baffled. Yeomyeong nodded without a hint of hesitation.
"...I made that promise with your friend. I got my price, and in return, I let you live. That's it."
The dragon didn't point out that the golden jade seal was the only proof of the deal, and thus Yeomyeong could twist the terms however he wanted.
No, it couldn't point that out. Because Yeomyeong wanted nothing from it.
Why? If Yeomyeong had fabricated its friend's words to demand servitude, the dragon would have obeyed.
It wouldn't have been hard. The moment it heard its friend's oath, it wouldn't have doubted Yeomyeong's words.
But he hadn't. Because he'd already received payment? The golden jade seal was indeed a great treasure, but... as far as it knew, human greed knew no bounds.
Half hopeful, half suspicious, the dragon focused its senses on Yeomyeong, but felt no malice or scheme.
Instead, as if mocking its doubts, Yeomyeong pushed its face away and said,
"This explanation should suffice. Now go wherever you want. Before the soldiers behind you get any ideas."
It wasn't a loud voice, so the only one startled by Yeomyeong's words was the Saintess.
"Hey! If you're letting it go, at least tell it not to seek revenge!"
Unlike the flustered Saintess, Yeomyeong remained calm.
"Why?"
"Why? What do you mean why! If the dragon goes on another rampage for revenge..."
"Without the jade seal, burning down Manchu is impossible, and Stalin's been missing for ages."
Yeomyeong cut her off as if wondering what the problem was. Before she could say more, he continued.
"If it charges into Moscow's air defenses and dies... the Russian government would love that."
"...."
Whether she had no retort or was just dumbfounded, the Saintess gaped, alternating glances between Yeomyeong and the dragon.
A brief silence followed. Moments later, the dragon snorted.
[Does the Earthling gauge my thirst for vengeance?]
The dragon let out a short, incredulous chuckle. At the same time, it recalled what Yeomyeong had said during their last fight.
—Your vengeance is justified.
Why had this Earthling said that to it...? Orse Tabul finally realized the sincerity behind those words.
[So, you too are the same as me...]
...an avenger.
The dragon swallowed the rest. The Saintess seemed utterly unaware of Yeomyeong's vengeful heart.
In a way, it was natural. Even if tainted with Earthling blood, the Saintess was still a Saintess. She could never affirm vengeance.
Vengeance sought no understanding, and thus was solitary.
The dragon swallowed the strange sense of kinship and rose to its feet.
As its massive body moved, the warehouse floor shook, the ground trembled, and the walls swayed.
The tense soldiers aimed their weapons as if ready to fire at any moment, but the dragon ignored them.
Once Yeomyeong and the Saintess had decided to release it, these Earthlings were no match.
[Saintess, and Earthling Cheon Yeomyeong.]
With four legs planted and wings spread, the dragon looked down at them and spoke.
[I thank you for your goodwill and mercy. These are not empty words—I wish to offer proper gratitude, but... there is little I can do right now.]
"It's fine, so let's just say goodbye..."
As Yeomyeong tried to answer on his own, the Saintess beside him clamped his mouth shut. Then she blurted to the dragon,
"Will you... continue your vengeance?"
[Even the gods cannot stop just vengeance. Saintess.]
The Saintess chewed her lip thoughtfully before looking up again.
"Then... think about it."
[Think?]
"Think if your target is the right one, if it's truly just vengeance. Think about what your revenge will do to Earth and beyond the dimensional gates."
Was it Saintess-like, or the words of a girl who knew nothing of vengeance?
Either way, the dragon couldn't refuse her earnest plea.
[Very well, Saintess. I shall heed your words. And... Yeomyeong, do you truly desire nothing?]
Yeomyeong looked troubled. It felt impolite to flatly refuse when the dragon insisted so.
He scanned the warehouse once more, then looked at Darulma, who stared back with a ghastly expression, and replied,
"Then... could you give us a ride?"
[Of course. Where do you wish to go?]
"Not far. Just next door, to the Manchu Base."
[...Gladly.]
With that, the dragon lowered its long neck toward the Saintess and Yeomyeong.
The Saintess climbed onto its neck with a look like manna from heaven.
Yeomyeong told the dragon to wait, then headed back to the watchtower to retrieve the treasure chest.
The soldiers glared at him with open hostility and killing intent, but none dared attack.
Ignoring them entirely, Yeomyeong grabbed the treasure, then approached the dazed Darulma. More precisely, he grabbed his hand.
"W-Wait! Yeomyeong, I'm fine. R-Riding a dragon's neck is an honor, but I can't just leave my car!"
"Ask the military to recover it."
"Oh, please! Yeomyeong! I have acrophobia!"
Acrophobia my foot. Yeomyeong recalled Darulma Dun returning to Manchu Base by helicopter and gave a wry smile.
"Don't worry too much. You won't die, will you?"
True to his words, Darulma didn't die.
Though he screamed for his life until they landed in a crowded spot inside Manchu Base, packed with reporters.
***
The sole dwarf teacher at Lord Howe Academy, Margan, gazed out the transport plane's window and sighed.
He pondered why everything had gone so wrong.
When he'd boarded the plane in Sydney, practically chased out by the Admissions Director, he'd still harbored ambitions.
Disciple of the Holy Sword, in charge of transfers—impressive titles, but ultimately about bringing in talented students.
As an educator, it was his duty.
He'd arrived in Kaesong expecting the transfer student's reaction to the permit, but his plans unraveled from the start.
—Manchu Base? Can't go right now.
The North Manchu incident had blocked all land routes to Manchu.
Even leveraging his Academy teacher status yielded only "wait" notices.
Helpless, Margan requested Academy aid.
After wasting three days in Kaesong, they finally secured a seat on a military transport.
The problem? It was a cargo plane. No dwarf seats, not even a proper chair.
Margan squatted amid the cargo and sighed again.
Outside the window, the cloudy sky shone brightly, oblivious to his mood...
"What the hell is that?"
Spotting something amid the clouds, Margan pressed his face to the window.
Red scales gleaming in the sunlight, wings larger than the clouds, a beautifully curving tail.
"...A dragon."
They'd just subjugated one in Manchu, and now a flying dragon? Was Manchu secretly a dragon habitat?
Even as his mind raced, his eyes sparkled like a child's.
Memories of his grandfather's tales of the guardian dragon of the Dwarf Mountains and the hero's legend.
Red scales shining, carrying a king on its neck as it flew...
?
What? Did he see wrong? Were there three people on the dragon's neck just now?
By the time he rubbed his eyes, the dragon had vanished below the clouds.
"Ah..."
As Margan let out a regretful sigh, an announcement blared overhead.
—We will soon arrive at Manchu Base. Please be careful not to bump into cargo.
***
Upon disembarking, Margan faced a crowd filling the airfield.
"What is..."
He gawked at the noisy throng. Meager compared to the Academy entrance ceremony, but all held cameras.
All these people reporters? Had they gathered every journalist at Manchu Base?
Suppressing his curiosity, Margan headed out. He was here for a transfer student, not news.
As he tried to pass the reporters... a familiar dwarf caught his eye.
"...Darulma? The Dun family wastrel?"
"Ugh...."
Darulma looked like he'd been through a typhoon. His fine suit was ruined, and his precious beard tattered.
His half-mad, vacant expression screamed major trauma.
"Hey, Darulma! Don't you recognize me? Margan! Of the Uragan line!"
"...Margan?"
Darulma looked up blankly, then spoke haltingly.
"You... didn't go... to the Academy...? Why... here?"
"I'm here on Academy business. What the hell happened to you?"
"D-Dragon..."
"...Dragon?"
"Rode... the dragon..."
What nonsense is this? What could have broken him so?
Flustered, Margan shuddered at Manchu Base's ruthlessness.
So many people, yet none helping a dying dwarf!
"Darulma, hang on. I'll get help!"
As Margan set down his luggage to turn... a girl's voice echoed from thin air.
"No need."
What now? Margan instinctively assumed a defensive stance and gathered mana.
"It's just fear. He'll recover after some rest."
A familiar, cheeky voice. Margan narrowed his eyes at the empty air.
"...Who are you? Reveal yourself."
"Me? The Saintess."
"...What?"
The air split slightly, revealing an eyepatched girl's face.
The Saintess's face, seen on TV a few times.
It vanished back into the void. Margan recalled her invisible cloak and gulped.
"Wh-Why is the Saintess here...?"
"Not the time for that. You came to Manchu Base for a job, right?"
"...."
"That guy."
A hand emerged from nowhere, pointing behind Margan. He turned instinctively.
A short distance away, reporters swarmed someone for an interview.
Bathing in camera flashes... the golden-eyed youth he'd been seeking.
"What are you doing? Hurry and take him to the Academy."
The Saintess prodded Margan, who stared at the youth in bewilderment.
He glanced at the reporters, pulled a paper from his pocket, and walked toward them.
The Saintess watched the dwarf's retreating back silently, then realized belatedly.
"Ah, right. He said no need for an application. He never said he wouldn't go to the Academy."
Prophecy wrong again. Watching the moment Margan met Yeomyeong, the Saintess giggled softly.
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