Chapter 213 - There is a Path in the Darkness (1)

It was early in the morning, just as the sun began to rise.

Although it was the end of winter, the cold wind was still felt as Vlad contemplated the city of Nassau.

"It seems this incident was beneficial for Captain Harven."

Vlad silently shook his head when he heard Joseph's voice coming from beside him.

"Harven won't see it that way. He always had a lot of affection for his ship."

"Really? Well, he did seem to have a special attachment to his ship."

The sea shimmered with the morning sun.

A large ship was slowly leaving the port of Nassau, cutting through the crystal-clear waters.

The galleon-class ship, said to be hard to find in the North, was the ship that Vlad and his crew had captured from Barbosa's men.

"At least it's a relief to have recovered the flag."

Vlad silently spoke as he watched the ship slowly and lonely sail out to sea.

Although it lost its original form, Harven's new ship could retain its name.

As if to prove it, a flag with a red rose engraved on it waved from the highest point of the mast.

It was the only trace Vlad took from the sinking Zemina.

"Where are you going now?"

Vlad opened his mouth while watching the new Zemina sail north.

The work with the dwarves was done.

Through this incident, Joseph got what he wanted, and Vlad was able to safely complete the contract he thought he couldn't fulfill.

In other words, there were now no obligations or debts between Joseph and Vlad.

"I'm going to the central region. To be precise, I plan to meet with the lords in the northern border area."

"To the center?"

Joseph, who opened the carriage door, smiled at Vlad and answered.

"I no longer have support in the north. Now I have to seek it elsewhere."

"...I see."

"My final destination is the Count Oscar family, which is my maternal family. I'm sure they'll help me there."

Joseph kept saying he would aspire to the position of head of Bayezid, but Vlad could only feel an unknown sentiment in his words.

Unlike his fierce past, his smile had somehow become lighter.

Vlad felt a sense of strangeness that was hard to explain in words due to the subtle change in attitude that only those who watched closely could recognize.

"What are you planning to do?"

"I..."

Vlad was speechless for a moment at Joseph's question.

He was sure of what he had to do, but he still had no idea where to go.

"They say dragons are dying."

"Yes?"

"From the west. There are reports of their corpses scattered everywhere."

Joseph shrugged and continued as if he knew all his worries.

"They say their remains are heading towards the center."

"..."

After saying these last words, Joseph entered the carriage and poked his head out of the open window.

"If you want, I can lend you food for your horse and a place to camp on the way."

"Thanks you."

"But I can't offer you a place in my carriage. This one is much smaller than the previous one."

It was no longer about settling debts, but about moving towards their respective destinations.

Vlad followed Joseph's slowly moving carriage and grabbed Noir's reins.

The son of the prairies, eager to depart, neighed loudly.

"He seems to be doing well."

"He's always been clear about what he wants."

Joseph silently looked out the window as Jager, who was sitting across from him, spoke.

The winter road was still icy.

However, the spirit of spring would soon be felt.

"Still, unlike before, it seems you've gained a bit more common sense."

However, Joseph, who until then hadn't been able to withstand the cold, carefully opened the box given to him by the dwarves.

Inside was an ancient tea set, clearly made by an artisan.

Although the cups seemed too delicate to use, Joseph took them without hesitation and began to brew tea.

"I'm glad to see you learned well."

The Zemina ship, Vlad, and Joseph.

Nassau was a city where those who were supposed to be there were now leaving.

There, in the depths of the sea, silver waves were moving along the ship heading north.

The deep places where humans dared not approach were filled with squids heading north in search of cooler nests.

***

People were lined up along the richly decorated hall.

The red carpet on the floor was adorned with gold threads, and the white marble walls were decorated with all kinds of jewels and colorful flowers.

'...In the end, I have to accept it.'

The faces of the gathered people were as wonderful as the appearance of the magnificent banquet hall.

Nobles, royalty, and honorable knights.

But on the face of Prince Armand, the highest-ranking person present, there was a shadow he couldn't erase.

"…From the day the empire was founded until now, I have been thinking about how to thank Duke Sarnus for fulfilling his duty so well."

The first to speak was a young boy who still seemed to have the soft skin of youth.

However, atop the boy's head was a heavy crown that seemed difficult for someone his age to bear.

"Therefore, I have decided that Duke Sarnus, who has been more loyal than anyone in the empire's history, deserves a worthy reward."

The words he spoke were fluent, as if he had practiced them, but his voice constantly trembled.

Perhaps the young emperor felt overwhelmed by the aura of the man kneeling before him.

"Rise, Duke Sarnus. In the name of the emperor, I present you this box as a token of my gratitude."

Following the young emperor's instructions, servants brought out strange-looking boxes.

The box, which resembled a coffin, was tightly bound with silver chains.

"…This is too much for me, Your Majesty."

The man kneeling before the emperor had bright blonde hair.

"I fear repeating past mistakes."

His eyes, raised towards the emperor, were bluer than any jewel in the hall.

"But if this is another obligation the empire imposes on me, I will gladly accept it."

However, when he finally stood up, his presence was greater than anyone else's here.

Even more than the young emperor standing before him.

"This, this piece is now yours, Duke Sarnus."

The oldest dragon, Sarnus Dragulia.

The man extended his hand towards the box that had been split by the founding king and guarded by princes throughout generations.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

Prince Armand looked away as Sarnus extended his hand towards the most perfect piece.

His blue eyes shone.

Until recently, they were human eyes, but now they were vertically narrowed.

What he had been waiting for a long time was now before his eyes.

***

"…It Doesn't Seem Like the Typical Basement of a Duchy"

The humidity in the air was thick.

The stone spiral staircase was slippery, and the air grew colder as he descended, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"Was it necessary to make it this deep?"

In the capital Brigantes, there was a mansion with a shadow as dark as the passage of time.

The carvings here and there were beautiful, but it was a somewhat gloomy place, and perhaps due to the direction it was built, it was a mansion that generally did not receive much sunlight.

The mansion of Duke Dragulia.

Bishop Pedro, who was secretly lurking around the uninhabited mansion, lit the stairs with a torch.

"…I can't even see the end."

The only thing the torchlight revealed was a darkness so dense it seemed impossible to penetrate.

At the foot of the stairs, there was only darkness, so deep that not even a devout servant of God could estimate its reach.

Crack—

After descending the seemingly endless stairs and finally reaching the floor, Pedro couldn't hide his nervous expression when he heard the dull sound under his toes.

Feeling reluctant, Pedro hastily waved the torch and realized he was now in an enormous circular hall.

'…It seems there's another mansion beneath the mansion.'

If it were an ordinary mansion, the basement wouldn't have been dug so deeply.

Pedro's senses as an Inquisitor seemed to come alive as he looked at Dragulia's secret basement, whose intentions were hard to discern.

"…Please, help me…"

"…!!"

A faint voice was heard momentarily.

Pedro, who heard a weak voice, like a lamp about to go out, quickly pointed the torch toward the darkness.

"Who's there?"

Around the circular hall, there were many strangely placed iron bars.

Looking at the place that seemed like a prison, Bishop Pedro silently made the sign of the cross over his chest and pointed the torch in the direction from where the voice was heard.

"Eh…"

There, in the center of the darkness, was an old man.

An old man as withered as an autumn leaf.

"Please, get me out of here…"

The old man, waving his hand along the bright light, recognized the grayish-white eyes that looked at him and began to make a strange expression.

"Bishop Pedro?"

Although it was the first place he had been and the first old man he saw, upon hearing his name in that familiar voice, Pedro made an effort to hide his surprise.

"Do you know me?"

"It's me. Bishop Pedro."

The old man's clouded eyes were finally regaining their original color as he looked at the bright torchlight shining over the exorcist.

"I am Radu Dragulia."

"…What?"

The color his eyes regained was blue.

His face, wrinkled and worn, didn't seem familiar, but the color of his eyes did.

"Please, get me out of here. Bishop."

"…Radu? Radu Dragulia?"

"Yes, yes. Please, please, Bishop!"

Bishop Pedro, unknowingly, took a step back upon seeing the old man sobbing sadly.

This was because an unknown feeling growing inside him warned him not to get any closer.

"…Lord, please hear me and respond. Give me light so that I do not sleep the sleep of death."

As the exorcist recited the verses, the torch he held began to burn intensely.

Then, a pure white light started to ripple from the depths of Dragulia, which was filled only with darkness.

"…My God."

But this place, illuminated by divine light, was a terrible hell.

It was a prison, a hell reserved only for dragons.

Within the bars, there was a sticky, bloody smell that made me wonder why I only noticed it now.

"Please, get me out of this vampire nest…"

The hidden depths beneath Dragulia were filled with the repressed screams of dragons.

They were the cries of miserable beings who had to offer their blood for the oldest of possibilities.

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