Chapter 230 - City of Outlaws (2)

Namarka City.

A place where there is no rightful or legitimate owner, and only anarchy prevails.

However, the order in the chaos that was spontaneously created despite no one being in control felt distinctly familiar to Vlad.

"…You have many siblings, don't you?"

Perhaps because of this, Vlad had let his guard down for a moment.

He had assumed that the alleys of Namarka would function the same way as those in which he was born.

But, although something might seem similar on the surface, in reality, there were no two things in the world that were identical.

"Most beastmen form matriarchal societies. So, the tribe's children are, in a sense, everyone's children."

He felt he would have known this even without Nibelun's explanation behind him.

Before he realized it, countless beastmen had lined up behind the young pickpocket.

The current situation, where nearly a hundred people had come out for the sake of a single young pickpocket, was a spectacle that could never have been imagined in the alleys of Soara.

"…The expression 'everyone's child' sounds nice."

But it would have been better if he had known beforehand.

Feeling the atmosphere growing increasingly fierce, Vlad raised his hands and smiled awkwardly.

"It wasn't my intention to scare the child. In fact, I came here recommended by Dorothea..."

You should never surprise these people.

With that mindset, Vlad even mentioned Dorothea's name, but the only response was the increasingly sharp eyes of the Ruga men.

"…It seems Dorothea made some kind of mistake, right?"

A child of the tribe is everyone's child.

But Vlad had not imagined that if there was a child alone outside, there was probably a reason behind it.

***

The sword was not taken away.

But that didn't mean he was separated from his companions.

Yet, being locked up behind bars was still unpleasant.

"From the beginning, you never intended to go north, did you?"

"…"

"Crafty bastard. You planned to do it all on your own from the start."

Pedro, who had been imprisoned in the Ruga family's jail thanks to Vlad's unexpected actions, spat dryly as if he finally understood the situation.

"Damned brat. Things that go against the norm inevitably end badly somewhere."

Pedro's anger at being deceived by Vlad and unable to head to his intended destination was justified.

However, the reason he couldn't be more insensitive was that he somewhat sympathized with Vlad's motive for making this decision.

"I had no other choice. I needed Radu."

Vlad spoke while looking at Radu squatting right in front of him.

Radu must have lost his strength and fell asleep even while being locked up.

As a member of Dragulia and a confidant of the Dragon Blood Duke, he was clearly an important witness and informant, but honestly, it was doubtful that the Northern Alliance would really use him as a clue to catch the evil beings.

"They would most likely use him as a tool against the dragon duke rather than seeking the black-clad woman. Now that war is looming."

To gain profit instead of a greater good.

The nobles, with their cold blue blood, always prioritized interests over principles. To them, the hordes of corrupt beings, like a natural disaster, were a secondary concern compared to the imminent threat of the dragon duke.

"If we send Radu to the Northern Alliance now, the investigation into Ramashthu won't begin until after the war."

Even Count Arnstein, who had been directly attacked, was anxious about the movements of the lords beside him rather than pursuing Ramashthu's group.

The count, who was the leader of the court faction, was completely focused on the impending war, making it predictable that the iron duke, who was willing to confront the central forces, would prioritize the same.

"Vlad Aureo."

Clang!

Suddenly, a loud sound resonated, striking the rusty cell bars.

Vlad turned his head to see a Ruga tribesman watching him from outside.

"Get up. The Great Mother wants to see you."

His manner was rude and his tone curt, but Vlad paid no attention to such insignificant details.

The only thing that mattered was the mention of the Great Mother.

Although his path had taken a great detour, the meeting he had sought would finally take place.

"And you too."

"Me?"

But the Ruga tribesman didn't just call Vlad.

Nibelun, who had been sitting quietly beside him, was also summoned.

"Why me?"

"If they tell you to come out, come out. Don't talk so much."

"…I was just asking why."

Vlad and Nibelun, pushed to leave the prison, were escorted through the bustling alleys to a place where the Great Mother awaited them. It seemed the place where they were held was far from the Great Mother's home.

'It seems we're farther south than before.'

Vlad lifted his head and saw the fragmented sky above the densely packed buildings.

After checking the sun's position he glimpsed, Vlad followed his old habit and figured out the distance from where he originally was.

"Enter."

"…Hmm."

When they arrived, they found a house built in a style Vlad had never seen before.

Like the surrounding buildings, it had nothing special, but it was raised above the ground, a construction not seen in the north.

"It's built like this to avoid insects or snakes."

"Insects?"

"In the southern jungles, there are many poisonous insects."

Although they were no longer in their place of origin, the influence of their roots was hard to erase.

Vlad wasn't familiar with the customs of the beastmen, which seemed more unfamiliar the more he listened to the explanation, but that was only possible when there was no spear tip poking into his back.

"What a welcome."

"This doesn't seem like a welcome but more like a kidnapping."

Forced to enter, Vlad climbed the rustic stairs and lifted the wide leaf that served as a door, finding inside an air thick with smoke.

"…"

"Come in quickly. Don't let the smoke I worked so hard to create escape."

The smoke was so dense it was impossible to see directly ahead.

There was a faint smell of cigarettes mixed with the lingering odor at the tip of his nose, but cigarette smoke alone couldn't have reached this far.

"You say you came recommended by Dorothea?"

In the midst of the smoke sat an old woman.

Wearing a large bird feather in the center of her head, she forcefully lifted her eyelids, which had sunk with time, and looked at the unknown guest from the north.

"It wasn't exactly a recommendation..."

"That damned girl. She left making noise and now sends an even more ominous visitor."

"We didn't know each other that well."

Although her voice was hoarse, like that of any old woman, the echo in her words didn't go unnoticed.

Vlad, who relied on his own world, might not have known, but Nibelun, who shared the same mystery, could sense how great the mystery of the old woman before him was.

"In fact, I've come to ask for something…"

"Don't speak."

Vlad was about to explain the purpose of his visit here but swallowed his words when he saw the old woman's pipe reach her lips.

Although he didn't open his mouth, the old woman's wrinkled face was already distorted, showing a clear expression of discomfort.

"Since you came following the flow of fate, I won't throw you out, but every breath you exhale is filled with poison."

After forcing Vlad to be silent, the old woman lowered her head and looked at Nibelun, sitting beside him.

"You, speak."

"Me?"

"Yes, you speak."

The old woman took up her pipe again, and after filling the bowl with tobacco, lit it.

"If the dragon speaks, the dragon listens. So you speak in his place."

She blew—

"Before that dragon, from a distance, knows where you are going."

A large cloud of smoke rose thin but dense from the old woman's pipe.

It was just an exhalation, but before he knew it, a large puff of cigarette smoke began to linger beside Vlad and envelop him tightly.

"…!"

Like a thick, impenetrable fog.

In the dense and silent mist that no one could notice, Vlad only then could sense the faint gaze that followed him.

Even now, the gaze the old woman feared didn't come from Vlad's eyes, but from the dragon's world he carried within him.

***

"It's a mystery."

The Dragulia mansion in the capital Brigantes.

The dragon duke Sarnus smiled nostalgically as he put down the goblet he was holding.

"Those damn cats. I should have burned them all back then."

Sarnus, recalling the distant past, hundreds of years later, clicked his tongue at the mystery that had blocked him once again, just as before.

As expected, instead of simply sinking them, he should have pulled them out one by one and cut off their heads.

"Is anyone there?"

"Yes, Duke."

"Go and fetch the mage. I need to contact Mirshea."

Mirshea, who had been sent to catch the fugitive Radu, had said he was now heading north.

However, those he sought had infiltrated right at his doorstep, which made Sarnus laugh at the audacity of the situation.

"...At last, I see you, my son."

Unlike other worlds, the original world of dragons is connected as one.

Because all beings born as dragons ultimately direct their gaze toward the place where perfection resides.

And Sarnus, the oldest dragon, was also the only dragon who knew how to utilize those gazes.

"And you too."

Sarnus, waving his hands as if he were drunk, approached the window holding the wine goblet he had put down.

The darkness of the capital began to fade as the sun set in the distance.

Sarnus, looking at the approaching darkness with one hand behind his back, spoke to someone who wandered both in the darkness and in the landscape he was viewing at that moment.

"No matter how much you try, it will be useless. Because you are no longer a glorious master of the sword."

Through the world of dragons, Sarnus had identified five fragments.

Among them, there was one piece that was losing its luster especially.

It was a piece held by a person who had returned from the dead, and it was also a piece held by an unworthy person who could never again impose a prohibition.

"This wine tastes good."

Now there is no one who can stop me or impose anything on me.

Confident in his victory thanks to the dragon fragments, Sarnus smiled with satisfaction as he raised his goblet.

Although he no longer needed the wine, the taste of the freshly opened barrel was an irresistible temptation.

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