Chapter 10: The Dragon, and Returning to Practical Matters

Dragons.

These mythical creatures had long been absent from the mortal realm—in fact, to most intelligent species on the Loren Continent, dragons were beings that teetered between myth and reality. While people knew of their power, few ever expected to see one with their own eyes.

The exception, perhaps, were the elves in the southern lands, with their unnaturally long lifespans and historical records that stretched back eons. Their chronicles contained a handful of recorded encounters with dragons.

Now, a majestic creature, covered in deep blue scales and sporting massive wings, glided across the sky, unleashing torrents of deadly fire. Each blast was imbued with ancient draconic magic, so intense that the flames, white-hot, burned without need for fuel and spread unyieldingly. In only a few breaths, all of Cecil's lands lay engulfed in flames.

Once satisfied with its work, the dragon lingered for a moment, as though inspecting the inferno below, then rose back into the sky, disappearing into the gathering light of dawn.

Only then did Gawain's companions dare to breathe deeply. Even Hety, who was generally composed, seemed shaken; had the dragon remained a moment longer, some among them might have passed out from sheer terror.

"A dragon… a dragon…" Rebecca clutched her staff, her voice trembling. "Ancestors, I actually saw a dragon…"

Gawain cleared his throat. "Yes, yes. We all saw it."

Startled from her daze, Rebecca cast him a sheepish glance before looking back at the charred remains of the Cecil lands. Ravaged first by the magical corruption and now by dragonfire, the land was beyond any hope of restoration.

As for the creatures roaming the land, they posed a significant threat to the soldiers, though in reality, these beings were the lowest tier of abominations. Nearly all had been incinerated by the dragon's fire. Any that remained would likely self-destruct in the now-transformed environment.

"I thought dragons only existed in legends," even the usually stoic Knight Byron murmured. His three soldiers, visibly shaken, had yet to stand. But Byron, uncharacteristically, made no move to chastise them. "My lord, have you ever encountered dragons before?"

"No," Gawain replied. "Dragons have always been shrouded in mystery. Even seven centuries ago, during Loren's upheaval, they kept their distance from mortal conflicts."

Although Gawain's words seemed calm, the sight of the dragon did little to surprise him. From his vantage in the skies, he'd occasionally seen dragons over the years. However, their appearances were rare and unpredictable, and his memories of them were fragmented, providing little insight into their ways.

Just then, he noticed the shadow beside him shift, and he looked down to see Amber standing at his side, still visibly rattled.

"I saw a dragon!" Amber exclaimed, her eyes wide. "My mom would never believe it—I saw a dragon! That biiiig!"

"Yes, yes, we all saw it," Gawain replied, casting an exasperated look at the thief. "Where did you disappear to just now?"

"Hid in a crack in the rocks," Amber puffed her chest with pride. "I'm very good at avoiding death."

Gawain sighed. "A master of stealth, practically unrivaled in shadow affinity… and next to useless in direct combat. And yet, you're proud of it."

Then he shook his head. "We shouldn't linger here. Let's keep moving."

As Gawain led them down the hillside, he remained wary of the potential dangers that still lurked nearby. Hety cast one last, troubled glance at the ruined estate. "Ancestor… that dragon burned our lands."

"It burned ruins. More accurately, it burned the creatures," Gawain said, looking at her. "The Cecil lands were already lost before the dragon appeared."

"But…"

"What are you planning to do, confront a dragon?" Gawain asked, raising an eyebrow. "Let's focus on what we can actually accomplish. If we're to do anything about this, it's to reach civilization and report what's happened."

Left with no response, Hety nodded. "Yes, sir."

Gawain understood her reluctance—this land had been her home, a place where she'd been raised. Though she knew it was lost, witnessing it reduced to ash still stung. Even knowing the dragon likely targeted the creatures, it felt like a final desecration of her homeland.

But understanding was not the same as sharing in her sentiment. After all, until recently, he hadn't been the ancestral figure of the Cecil family…

With their thoughts in turmoil, the group continued onward, eventually reaching a dense forest.

Hety held her staff aloft, casting a spell that summoned glowing, shifting runes in the air. She pointed toward the forest. "We need to cross this forest to reach the main road. It's the only route to Tanzan Town."

Gawain, barely hiding his curiosity and envy, watched the runes. "Magic certainly is… useful."

"Ancestor?" Hety looked uncertain, then her expression turned to worry. "Are you… displeased with my abilities?"

Gawain blinked. "Why would I be?"

"The Cecil family has always relied on knightly strength—combat skills and horsemanship are our legacy. In the past, those of us who pursued the mage's path—like Rebecca and myself—would have been barred from inheritance. We'd have struggled even to find a place in the family. Since… well, since the family's decline, we've had little choice but to accept those with any talent in the arcane arts. But by tradition, we're an exception to the rules."

Gawain frowned. "What fool made such a ridiculous rule?"

His words brought a sudden, heavy silence. Knight Byron immediately lowered his head, feigning to tie his boots—even though he wore steel greaves. Hety froze in place, while Rebecca nervously pointed at Gawain himself.

Gawain: "…"

After digging through his memory, he vaguely recalled an incident from long ago.

Seven centuries earlier, after a victorious campaign, Gawain Cecil and his friend, King Charley I, had celebrated over drinks. In their revelry, they'd mused about the future, envisioning the noble families that would arise and endure through the ages, preserving their legacy. In their drunken optimism, they decided to set down some family principles.

And so, the young Gawain, emboldened by drink, scrawled his thoughts:

"Knights are superior to mages."

Charley, equally intoxicated, had nodded approvingly and added his own line:

"Sir Gawain is absolutely right."

The first line became part of Cecil's family creed. Charley's, however… was quietly retracted by his advisors.

Gawain's shoulders sank as he looked at Hety and Rebecca, who stared back with an odd mixture of reverence and confusion.

He sighed. "I was drunk. Let's pretend that rule never existed…"

Hety and Rebecca: "…?"

Just then, Amber's growling stomach broke the awkward silence.

"I know it's not the best time, with all this heartfelt family bonding going on," Amber said, rubbing her belly, "but I'm starving."

At her words, everyone's stomachs responded in unison, even Gawain's.

Only now did Gawain realize that since leaving the dark crypt, none of them had eaten in quite some time.

And he, in particular, hadn't tasted food in… well, since the days when the creatures of Loren hadn't yet learned to walk upright.