CHAPTER 71

Hee-hee-hee.

The clearer the world one possesses, the clearer the boundaries become.

As vivid as the color of the meadow the black horse possessed, the boundaries of the fortress encircled by humans were clear.

"······."

The boy and the horse with clear colors were still beings who found it difficult to mix with other worlds.

Vlad and the black horse stood beneath the human boundary, gazing up at Shoara's fortress.

※※※※

"You've come."

Larmund tilted his glass and spoke to the boy climbing the stairs from below.

The only guests at the inn, which is not yet open, are an old man and a boy.

Though Larmund spoke quietly, his voice resonated quietly, reaching the boy well.

"Did it have some effect?"

"A little."

In response to the old man's question, Vlad replied with disappointment, tasting his drink again.

"That barbarian didn't teach you anything useless, did he?"

"Well, barbarians know best about the meadows."

As Larmund lifted his glass, a bouquet of red flowers caught his eye.

Roses.

A bundle of flowers that looked bright and beautiful was held in the boy's hand.

"His taste is quite clear."

"They say he moves along."

On the day he finally returned to Shoara after avoiding the pursuit of the barbarians, Vlad was greatly embarrassed by the black horse's rejection.

When the horse stubbornly refused to enter the bustling fortress walls, Vlad was at a loss for what to do. It was then that a tattooed barbarian man with a smile on his face spoke.

That horse likes red.

He pointed to the red string that tied his hair.

"I didn't know wild horses moved along with climbing roses."

"It's probably a method he instinctively found. He must respond sensitively to temperature."

Wild horses live by grazing on grass.

Therefore, they are inevitably sensitive to the cold.

The frozen meadow can offer them nothing.

For these wild horses, the climbing roses that stretch their bodies in response to warm energy are like a signal directly related to survival.

"But it seems like this isn't enough."

Vlad carefully set down the bouquet of roses on the table and pondered deeply.

"The more red, the better, right?"

"That's right."

"And the bigger, the better."

"That's a way of getting two birds with one stone."

"...And if he can move, it'll be even better."

After finishing speaking, Vlad turned his gaze and looked at the red figure moving diligently below.

A red-haired girl, struggling under a blanket bigger than herself.

The most dazzling red that Vlad knew was down there.

"That should be enough to call it a rose."

Sensing what Vlad was thinking, Larmund nodded with a meaningful smile.

"But you guys didn't seem to be getting along lately."

"That's how it's always been."

Watching the boy, who replied nonchalantly, Larmund sighed as if feeling sorry.

Sometimes, there were beings who didn't realize how precious they were because they were too close.

"Wherever you look, it's always like that. Just relationships like that."

However, Vlad's gaze remained fixed on Zemina's red hair, and the old man's advice, which sounded like a lament, fell on deaf ears.

"I'll go check."

A few days later, the black horse was still standing glumly outside the castle walls, waiting for the boy, and without him, Vlad would have to live a life like a cartwheel again with no hope.

Hoping that the girl who had previously escorted him out of Shoara would this time bring the black horse inside, Vlad picked up the bouquet of flowers and descended the stairs towards Zemina.

Watching Vlad approach the girl urgently, Larmund only clicked his tongue.

※※※※

"Zemina."

"...What is it?"

Zemina, who was busy preparing for the soon-to-be-opened inn, raised her eyes in a triangular shape as she saw Vlad blocking her path.

"I'm busy."

"Just listen to me for a moment."

Despite Vlad's urgent plea, Zemina continued with her work as if nothing were happening.

After years of hard work, Zemina's hands smoothly adjusted the curtains and neatly arranged the bed sheets.

"I don't know what you're talking about, but take it up with Lady Alicia. I'm busy."

"..."

Zemina, who was still heartbroken over the handkerchief that came out of Vlad's arms, just ignored Vlad.

To think, after cutting her hair and going through so much trouble to save his life, all he brought back was a handkerchief with another woman's name embroidered on it.

From Zemina's perspective, it was quite the ordeal.

"Just do me a favor."

"I said I'm busy! Can't you see?!"

At the moment Zemina raised her voice, annoyed by Vlad's constant obstruction,

"Hey."

"...What's this?"

She began to panic upon suddenly being presented with a bouquet of red flowers.

"Hold this for me."

"...I said, take your request to Lady Alicia."

"No."

With a serious expression, Vlad spoke while holding the bouquet.

"This is something only Lady Zemina can handle."

"..."

Zemina finally looked up at him upon hearing the words from Vlad's mouth.

The boy with blue eyes handed her a bouquet of red flowers.

Amidst the colors that made it difficult to take one's eyes off of anything, Zemina made an effort to turn her head and answer bluntly.

"...What is it?"

It wasn't because he mentioned Lady Zemina. Even if he hadn't said that, Zemina would have listened to Vlad's request.

"Take this bouquet and come with me somewhere."

Vlad chuckled as he watched Zemina's face turn increasingly red while holding the bouquet he handed her.

Red hair, a red bouquet, and a blushing face.

The redder, the better.

Surely, even that boy would like it this much.

Thinking so, Vlad nodded satisfactorily.

"That's the spirit. Tsk, tsk."

Leaning against the railing on the fourth floor, Larmund sipped his drink and clicked his tongue as he watched Vlad's actions.

Vlad, whose mind was preoccupied with the situation before him, probably didn't know what he was doing, but Larmund, observing from a third-person perspective, found it amusing.

"Well, he'll figure it out."

The one who sows the flowers must take responsibility for them.

And in Larmund's eyes, he saw a single rose blooming on the face of the girl, who was trying to avoid his gaze.

※※※※

With the torch provided by the guards, Josef and Zayar stepped forward.

In the dimly lit prison cell, the two men stood facing each other across the bars.

Two men standing in front of the bars that divided their worlds.

The shadows cast by the torch made Josef's dark eye sockets even darker.

"It's quite an honor for the city's mayor to come see barbarians like me."

"I hope your journey here was worthwhile."

Even though he was laughing inside the bars, Josef said what he wanted to say without being swayed by his provocations.

"I want to know the real reason you've come down here following the horse."

Aage stroked his chin as he looked into Josef's eyes, which were deep for his age.

He has seen many people who try to show off their coolness or dignity, but he has only seen a few people who truly harbor them inside.

However, the mayor of Shoara, standing before him, possesses those traits despite being close in age.

"It was necessary."

"I'm asking about that necessity now."

At Aage's indifferent response, Zayar, holding the torch, furrowed his brow.

"At first, I thought it might be your tribe's tradition or ritual, but it wasn't."

Josef had consulted with Larmund and others who knew the habits of the barbarians well.

And at Josef's question, they all nodded in agreement.

"I heard that taming wild horses is actually prohibited for you. Is that correct?"

"..."

Every world has its own domain where it shines the brightest.

The one wielding a sword on the battlefield, the one wielding a pickaxe in the fields.

And wild horses that can only shine when running are most suited to the green plains.

The barbarians were people who respected such principles.

"I came here to ask about the real reason you've breached that prohibition and ventured all the way to the County of Bayezid."

After finishing his words, Josef simply stared at Aage as if waiting for his response.

An irresistible air of strangeness.

Aage looked at Josef, wondering if this man might actually answer his question.

After all, Aage had things he needed to ask the people of the Empire.

"...I've been thinking about it all the way here."

Seeing Josef's unwavering gaze, Aage, who had been sitting comfortably until now, slowly stood up and approached the bars.

"Perhaps being captured and brought here might turn out to be a blessing in disguise."

In the darkness, Aage, approaching, grabbed the bars with both hands and leaned in close to Josef.

A dog that is about to bite doesn't bark.

It just quietly holds its breath and waits for an opportunity.

"The reason my men and I sought to tame the son of the plain, even breaking our tribe's taboo, was simple. We needed the fastest horse we knew."

Josef thought as he looked into Aage's eyes, filled with tattoos.

They resembled the gaze of the untamed boy.

"What exactly have you done?"

"What do you mean by that?"

Josef watched the slow boiling anger in Aage's eyes, a rage not just directed at himself but aimed towards the entire north.

"The dragon is going mad."

"..."

As the sudden statement flew in, Josef felt puzzled, but before he could react, the wolf within the bars started howling.

"The dragon that has been calm so far is going crazy!"

The eyes of Aage, trapped behind the bars, blazed with fury.

And that anger wasn't solely Aage's.

It was the culmination of all the barbarians, driven to the frontier by the Empire, enduring constant rejection.

"You're the highest authority here, you know what I'm talking about."

Due to the force that Aage gave off, Zayar placed his hand on the sword handle.

That was the level of momentum.

"How did you deal with the dragon pieces?"

A wolf growled at the human leader, while a knight, stepping out to subdue the wolf, stood between them.

In the midst of it all, the man with deep shadows under his eyes was reading the ominous signs hidden within Aage's words.

The dragon has gone mad.

The son of the tribal leader came down in search of a horse to stop the dragon from going crazy, even breaking the taboo. Even venturing into the depths of the Empire's territory.

Josef's black eyes began to sink deeper.

"Bring me the blond boy who defeated me."

"Why?"

After expelling his fiery rage, Aage now leaned against the bars with a deep sigh.

"Because the only one who can catch up with the fastest dragon is the Son of the Plains, who inherits sacred blood."

Remnants of a fallen dragon.

Scattered throughout the world, they were sometimes objects of admiration and sometimes sources of fear.

The perfect dragon's blood contained a lot of potential.

"It won't end within our territory alone, will it?"

"..."

Two men facing each other under the flickering torchlight.

In the dark dungeon, they had no more words to exchange.