Episode 619 Why Don’t You Understand the Meaning of Dialogue? 3

Alfoy chimed in as well.

"Think of all the dragon hearts, dragon bones… Do you know how much we can gain from it? Why let it go? We should kill it and use every scale. It's all money—pure profit."

These two had grown increasingly brash under Fenris's leadership, especially with the chance for fame and glory from dragon hunting. They had no intention of passing up such an opportunity.

Of course, their bold attitudes were only possible because of the many strong allies around them. If they were alone, they would have been the first to flee.

Angered by their dismissive comments, Piote turned to Parniel for support.

"Saintess! Surely you don't intend to fight without at least attempting dialogue, right? Can't we try talking first?"

"Uh… well…"

Parniel was flustered. Truthfully, her thoughts had been preoccupied with how she could smash the dragon's skull with her mace.

However, as a priest at her core—despite being known as the "Saintess of War"—she still bore the responsibility of advocating for love and peace as the goddess's representative.

Awkwardly, she nodded.

"You're… right. Of course… As a priest… I must always… prioritize dialogue… or something like that…"

Her hesitant response only fueled Kaor and Alfoy's irritation.

"What the hell are you saying? That's not like you!"

"Is it okay for a saintess to lie? That sounded suspiciously uncertain!"

Parniel turned her unyielding gaze to the two, her tone icy.

"What. Why."

Her cold words silenced them. They lowered their heads, avoiding her gaze.

Parniel was the one person they found most uncomfortable to deal with. If she so desired, she could initiate an inquisition against them, and her raw destructive power was terrifying. A single blow from her could crush them flat.

In any case, Piote's suggestion was somewhat reasonable and worth considering.

But Ghislain remained skeptical.

"Dialogue with that insane dragon…"

If he didn't have memories of his past life, he might have accepted the idea without hesitation. But Ghislain had experienced Arterion firsthand.

The united human forces had been forced to hastily organize an army just to contend with Arterion's rampage. There hadn't even been time to attempt dialogue.

At that time, Arterion had been utterly deranged.

"Now that I think about it…"

During its fury, Arterion had shouted incomprehensible words.

"At last! I can kill you!"

Back then, Ghislain hadn't understood the meaning behind those words. Now, however, he could guess.

It must have mistaken Julien for the Adversary.

That thought made him even more doubtful. Arterion would attack Julien on sight, just as Ereneth had initially done.

Piote, as if reading his mind, spoke up.

"If Julien appears, the dragon won't stay calm. Just like Ereneth, right?"

"Exactly. It'll likely refuse any form of dialogue. So what's your plan?"

"Why don't we hide Julien for now?"

"Hide him?"

"Yes. Let him stay out of sight while we talk to the dragon. We can say we've encountered someone similar but assure it not to panic."

"...Do you really think that will work? It might go berserk as soon as it sees him."

"We'll explain that Ereneth initially misunderstood too, but eventually stopped fighting. We can persuade it to join us in verifying the true Adversary's identity."

"Hmm… Persuasion…"

Ghislain rarely resorted to persuasion. If anything, his spear named "Persuasion" had done all the talking for him.

Piote quickly added, "If it still insists on fighting, we can deal with it then."

Most of the others, including Vanessa, Belinda, and Gillian, nodded in agreement.

"As Piote suggested, why not at least try talking first?"

"I agree."

"It's a valid idea worth attempting."

Even Parniel, in an unusually solemn tone, stated, "The Saint is correct. We must always strive for a more peaceful resolution."

"..."

The room fell silent.

Parniel, known for her propensity to introduce herself with violence and fight with unmatched ferocity, was now advocating for peace. Her words were so out of character that no one knew how to respond.

"What. Why."

Everyone avoided her gaze, pretending to look elsewhere.

Ghislain fell into thought.

If they could avoid fighting, that would undoubtedly be the best outcome. Arterion was vastly stronger than anything they had faced so far, even without being in its prime state.

"Hmm…"

The odds of successful persuasion were slim, but the idea was not without merit. However, could Arterion truly maintain its composure upon seeing Julien?

Ultimately, Ghislain turned to Julien.

"What do you think?"

"If we can avoid fighting, that would be ideal."

"And if the dragon still insists on killing you?"

"Then I will handle it alone. There's no need for others to sacrifice themselves."

As always, Julien's response was succinct and devoid of drama.

Although he appeared cold and emotionless, this self-sacrificial attitude revealed his true character.

He had always fought to protect others without asking for anything in return, nor preaching grand ideals.

For him, saving others was as natural as breathing or eating.

This made him unpredictable, yet one thing was certain: someone like Julien could not be the Adversary.

Ghislain nodded, having anticipated such an answer.

"Could he truly be the reincarnation of the Hero?"

If anyone in this room embodied the Hero's spirit, it was Julien.

So who, then, was the Adversary?

"It's not me, that's for sure."

The thought of the dreams resurfaced, leaving a faint unease in Ghislain's heart.

But if he were truly the Adversary, the Saintess wouldn't have tried to guide him through her dreams.

Moreover, the power Ereneth had mistaken for the Adversary's came from Dark, something Ghislain only acquired in this life.

"There's no way Dark is the Adversary either."

― What's wrong with me?!

"Stop eavesdropping."

― Screech!

Dark retreated into the depths of Ghislain's consciousness.

While Dark's existence remained a mystery, Ghislain couldn't shake the feeling that everything was interconnected—Julien, Arterion, and even Dark.

After gathering his thoughts, Ghislain nodded and spoke.

"We'll proceed with preparations for battle as planned. Once we're fully ready, we'll attempt dialogue first."

Everyone looked relieved. As Piote suggested, avoiding a fight was the best outcome.

Even so, they had to remain vigilant. If a battle became unavoidable, they would need a strategy to minimize casualties and secure victory.

The meeting resumed, but Ghislain couldn't shake a heavy feeling.

It stemmed from a vivid image that had haunted him recently.

"That painting…"

When he had seized Eclipse and spoken with Ernheart, he had seen it.

A painting of a massive serpent crushing and devouring people.

Its bloodied depiction was grotesque, resembling a fusion of Rift monsters and a dragon.

"That could almost be called a prophecy. Everything happened exactly as described in my dreams…"

Ernheart had claimed to know the future, speaking as though he, like Ghislain, had regressed.

Could that eerie painting have been based on a vision of the future? It was so out of place in the nobleman's mansion.

"Surely… that isn't Arterion."

The creature in the painting didn't look exactly like Arterion, though there were subtle similarities.

Ghislain had no doubt they could defeat the dragon. They had done it before, albeit at great cost. The challenge was to minimize such losses this time.

And yet…

He couldn't shake the ominous feeling that Ernheart was somehow connected to this entire ordeal.

***

The black chains binding Arterion slowly began to weaken, and another chain dissipated into nothingness with a faint crackling sound.

Now, only two chains remained.

However, Arterion did not rejoice. In truth, he hardly registered the change.

"Hmm…"

With great difficulty, the dragon lifted his massive eyelids, his voice emerging as a low murmur.

"Once again… I fell asleep…"

As the chains weakened, his strength gradually returned. It wasn't the peak of his former power, but time would undoubtedly restore him completely.

And yet, he found himself succumbing to sleep without understanding why. For a transcendent being like a dragon, such a phenomenon was inconceivable.

No matter how thoroughly he examined himself, he found no abnormalities. In fact, his power seemed to grow stronger, not weaker.

"Could it be… nostalgia for the past…"

Each time he drifted into slumber, Arterion's consciousness would slip into the world of dreams.

The memory of those dreams brought a faint smile to his lips. Behind that smile, however, lay an ineffable depth of longing.

It had been a brutal war—an unending battle that had pushed him to the brink. The agony and sorrow of that battlefield still weighed heavily on his heart.

Paradoxically, those painful moments had become his most cherished memories.

"Yes… You were the ones who could stand by my side."

The saintess, the hero, and their companions.

Arterion had shared a bond of friendship with them that transcended species.

The vivid images of those he had seen in his dreams returned to him now. Their laughter, their grief, their shared battles—all those radiant moments played vividly before his mind's eye.

Those memories, etched into his heart like a scene from an ancient painting, resonated deeply.

When Arterion opened his eyes and returned to reality, his heart ached.

The suffocating longing overwhelmed him, and he yearned to return to that dreamscape once more.

Now, the dream was his only solace.

Closing his eyes again, he murmured in a parched voice:

"Ereneth… Did we not save the world? Did we not succeed in sealing the Abyss…"

His voice grew softer, trailing into silence as he drifted back into sleep.

"Our choices…"

"The saintess wanted…"

"To slay the adversary…"

Arterion, his mind fogging, whispered words that no one could comprehend.

This state was unlike anything a dragon should experience.

Dragons were supreme beings, renowned for their unyielding mental fortitude. Without such strength, they could not endure the eons they lived.

Yet his mind, half-drenched in madness, had grown feeble and unsteady. He could no longer question the strange phenomena afflicting him.

At times, faint doubts would arise, only to be smothered again by his haze of confusion.

As he drifted deeper into unconsciousness, a burning question ignited in his thoughts:

"Why… am I falling asleep…"

"What… am I doing…"

"This is not my will…"

Arterion struggled to open his eyes once more. As his mind grappled with this realization, a storm of warnings flooded his senses.

And then, the most critical question surfaced in his mind.

"Why… am I able to sense that the adversary has awakened?"