Chapter 71
Chapter 71. Did You Think I Was a Dragon?
The sight of wyverns swarming so thickly that they blotted out the firmament had thoroughly demoralized many defenders of Elysium before the clash even commenced.
How high a toll in blood would be required just to repel such abominations?
Above all, did they even possess the strength to banish them entirely?
Yet, owing to Minjun’s startling prowess, the tide of combat steadily shifted in their favor.
In the opening moments, even Minjun had noticeably faltered against the relentless aerial assault; then, as though guided by divine intervention, a sudden shift occurred, and he began ruthlessly dominating the confrontation.
Witnessing the wyverns shrink back in terror, the soldiers of Elysium felt their fighting spirits surge, seizing upon the opening without hesitation to unleash a punishing retaliation.
From that instant onward, the advantage never slipped from their grasp.
Following an exhausting clash, Minjun alongside the garrison of Elysium ultimately managed to shatter and scatter the gargantuan horde of beasts.
It had been an onslaught of monstrous proportions—the sort seen perhaps once across several decades—leaving behind a toll that was far from trivial. Nevertheless, balancing the magnitude of the raid against the outcome, the devastation remained miraculously manageable.
Such was the shared sentiment among the battered defenders as their gazes swept across the carnage.
With the winged terrors dispersed and the lesser beasts scrambling in panic from the base of the ramparts, triumphant shouts reverberated in every direction.
“Waaaaah!”
“Victory is ours! We survived!”
“I was certain our city would meet its doom this very day.”
“Hah! Did you truly believe Elysium could crumble so easily? A majestic dragon laid the very cornerstone of these ramparts tens of thousands of years ago.”
“Precisely. Charles, your personal burial might be right around the corner, but Elysium still has tens of millennia ahead of it before its walls give way.”
“Gwahahaha!”
Even while basking in their hard-won triumph, the troops of Elysium paused to mourn their fallen comrades and set about retrieving the corpses.
Because of the colossal scale of the engagement, nearly everyone was immediately absorbed in attending to the grim aftermath.
Observing the frantic activity, Minjun pondered how best to offer his own assistance.
Amidst his wandering thoughts, he noticed Estelle tending to the injured warriors.
“Estelle, is there any way I might lend a hand?”
At the sound of his voice, Estelle flinched visibly and vigorously waved her hands in refusal.
“N-No need. Sir Minjun, you should really head back and rest properly. Please allow us to handle this.”
“Truly, it is no trouble. Idling around while everyone else labors feels rather awkward… You needn’t feel pressured on my account.”
Assuming she merely wished not to overburden him, Minjun made reassuring gestures, insisting that he genuinely wanted to help.
Yet, despite his gentle assurances, Estelle remained profoundly ill at ease.
‘Why is she acting so nervous around me?’
They were plainly understaffed, yet she was turning away an extra pair of hands.
Nor was that the sole oddity.
Minjun noticed an unmistakable, subtle shift in how the local populace regarded him.
This peculiar behavior went beyond Estelle; the other fighters of Elysium similarly averted their eyes, seemingly incapable of meeting his gaze directly.
‘Earlier today, they had no trouble staring openly at me because I was an outsider.’
What could possibly have brought about such hesitation?
‘Could it be that my display on the battlefield exceeded their expectations?’
If that had been the trigger, they ought to be showering him with praise and gratitude for his efforts.
They certainly would not be acting so apprehensive in his presence.
Though he initially found himself baffled, clarity was not long in arriving.
A sizeable cluster of warriors began coalescing around Estelle. Without warning, the entire group sank to the earth in profound prostration before Minjun, raising their voices in unison.
“These humble servants offer their greetings to the Great One!”
“Hail, O Great One!”
“…Pardon?”
Every single one of them was prostrated on the ground, addressing him by an exalted title.
What on earth was transpiring so abruptly?
Minjun stood utterly bewildered by this astonishing turn of events.
“Excuse me, but I believe an error has been made. I am—”
“We are fully conscious of the sacred decree forbidding interference in a Great One’s leisurely masquerade. Even so, the benevolence you bestowed upon us was so immense that we felt compelled to present our deepest veneration…”
“Hold on. Do you mean…”
Their gazes vacillated between dread and awe, mirrored precisely by their reverent speech.
The implication was glaringly obvious.
“Did you honestly believe I was a dragon?”
Evidently, they had mistaken him for a dragon all along.
No other rationale could account for such deference.
“Are you… truly not a Great One?”
“That is… utterly impossible.”
“…Ah.”
With his inkling confirmed beyond doubt, Minjun dropped his head, mortified by their colossal misunderstanding.
“…I shall explain everything, so please stand up for now.”
As darkness fell and the lingering chaos subsided, a raucous banquet commenced throughout Elysium to commemorate the hard-won triumph.
Nearly everyone who had brandished a weapon in the defense attended the revelry. Upon Estelle’s urging, Minjun made his way to one of the taverns hosting the jubilant crowds.
The moment he crossed the threshold, the patrons inside began chanting his name in thunderous unison.
“Minjun! Minjun!”
“A divine blessing delivered by Lord Bellium! The living avatar of Lord Bellium!”
“Minjun, favored son of Lord Bellium!”
“Waaaaah!”
Encircled by jubilant cries, Minjun carefully navigated the packed corridor until he reached an unoccupied bench.
Whether through pure chance or deliberate arrangement, Estelle occupied the seat directly adjacent to his.
“W-Welcome, Sir Minjun.”
“Yes, hello…”
Though they had conversed easily upon first meeting, both of them were now flushed red, scarcely able to make eye contact out of mutual embarrassment.
The lingering awkwardness stemmed entirely from the soldiers’ farcical error just hours prior.
Watching Minjun’s exploits against the airborne horde, a vast majority of the defenders—Estelle included—had arrived at the conclusion that he could never be an ordinary mortal.
Not only did he carry a collection of extraordinary relics that no normal human could easily secure, but he also wore two trinkets fashioned out of Dragon Bone.
Worse yet, the weapon strapped to his hip was an unmistakable Dragon Bone Sword.
The final piece fell into place when Minjun unleashed Dragon Fear, solidifying their convictions.
Though clad in the flesh of a common human, he had to be an ancient dragon walking the mortal realm for sport.
Every piece of evidence aligned flawlessly in their thoughts.
Consequently, they had genuinely believed him to be an exalted dragon and felt compelled to offer absolute submission.
Naturally, that absurd presumption had finally been cleared away after Minjun offered a thorough explanation.
“A little while ago… you were quite taken aback, weren’t you, Sir Minjun?”
“Not quite. Just… rather stunned. To be completely honest, it was rather fascinating.”
It provoked an odd sensation to reflect that Sia likely received such reverent treatment from other beings on a regular basis.
Furthermore, it felt strangely novel to think that should he ever attain his dream of shedding his mortal coil to become a dragon, crowds might prostrate before him in just that manner.
Even so, having an entire cadre of people suddenly hit the floor to worship him had been startling and deeply mortifying.
His ears still burned just recalling the scene.
“Why fret over it? It merely demonstrates the sheer grandeur of your martial display. And Estelle, why do you still look so flustered?”
“Ugh…”
Estelle offered no rebuttal, merely sinking her chin toward her chest, while Minjun gave an awkward cough to mask his own unease.
Observing their sheepish demeanor, Kutun, the dwarf seated across the table, erupted into a booming chuckle.
“Put it out of your mind! Minjun, take a look at how crimson her cheeks have turned! Gwahaha!”
Thoroughly entertained by their shared embarrassment, Kutun roared with laughter as he pushed a brimming mug toward Minjun.
“Come, wet your whistle.”
“Much appreciated.”
The instant the flagon touched Minjun’s fingers, Kutun called out for a toast. Caught in the lively atmosphere, Minjun touched his vessel against the dwarf’s and took a draught.
He had wondered if spirits brewed in an unfamiliar realm would taste wildly foreign compared to Earth’s offerings, but both the amber tone and the crisp flavor were remarkably familiar.
“This is… beer?”
Was this not, for all practical purposes, standard beer?
“Naturally it is beer! How is it that you recognize beer, anyway? Did you not claim to hail from an entirely separate realm?”
“We brew beer where I come from as well. The taste is virtually identical.”
“Gwahaha! It seems civilized folk are kindred spirits regardless of realm! Tell me, are there dwarves in your homeland as well?”
“No, there are no dwarves where I live.”
“Aye, fair enough. Even without our kind around, mortals know how to appreciate fine drink, even if your tolerance falls well short of ours.”
Kutun drained the remaining liquor with another thunderous belly laugh, clearly delighted for reasons Minjun could not fathom. He sloshed a fresh pour into his cup before raising another inquiry.
“On that note, how is it possible for you to channel dragon power while bound to a mortal human vessel?”
“Indeed. I found myself pondering the very same mystery. Such a feat is not entirely unheard of, yet it is exceedingly rare.”
Estelle murmured her agreement just after Kutun finished speaking.
“Just so! It is unusual enough that you mistook Minjun for a genuine dragon, Estelle. That explains why your complexion matches a ripe tomato.”
“P-Please cease your relentless teasing!”
“Gwahaha! Teasing Estelle is simply too delightful to pass up. Regardless, satisfy our curiosity. Does your realm harbor some bizarre secret, Minjun? Are such miraculous abilities commonplace where you originated?”
Kutun pressed forward, his eyes alight with fascination as he awaited the explanation.
“Rather than attributing it to his native world, I suspect the truth involves his beloved. Did he not mention that both the relics and that ring were tokens from her?”
A heavily built human warrior beside their group chimed in, prompting Kutun to stroke his beard and offer his own speculation.
“Or perchance the lover you are presently courting happens to be an actual dragon. Am I close to the mark?”
Kutun lobbed the suggestion casually as a jest, grinning broadly.
“How did you guess?”
“…Are you serious?”
Having tossed out the remark purely in jest, Kutun froze in sheer bewilderment when his wild guess struck true.
The shock was so immense that his grip failed, sending his half-full tankard tumbling downward.
CRASH!
“Come now, old craftsman. Have you managed to get sloshed already?”
The fox beastfolk Langs, lounging at the adjacent table, scoffed with amusement, prompting Kutun to roar back defensively, his dignity wounded.
“What?! Watch your tongue! I have barely tasted a single cup! How could I possibly be intoxicated?”
“Anyone in their right senses would lose their breath hearing such words!”
“What sort of tale could possibly rattle you so thoroughly?”
“That traveler sitting right there claims his lover is an actual dragon.”
CRASH!
The instant the words registered, Langs was so utterly paralyzed with disbelief that the tankard slipped right through the beastfolk’s paws, shattering upon the floorboards.
“Kutun, embellishing a tale is fine, but this stretches beyond all sanity. At least weave something plausible!”
“I swear by the anvil it is the truth! The lad just confirmed it with his own lips!”
Faced with the rising skepticism of those around him, Kutun bellowed defensively, appearing thoroughly aggrieved.
Given how passionately he argued, there was simply no way the stout craftsman was fabricating the claim.
Which meant the absurd proclamation had to be authentic.
“H-He is genuinely courting a dragon?”
“How could such a thing even occur? Did the beast inadvertently expose its nature while they were courting?”
“Nonsense. Even if its true guise came to light, carrying on a romantic bond afterward defies reason.”
“And he remains with her despite knowing what she is?”
The patrons at Langs’s table sprang from their benches at once, congregating around Minjun in excited clusters to catch every detail.
Before long, folk from neighboring tables migrated across the room as well, eager to absorb Minjun’s testimony.
The boisterous tavern plunged into sudden, pin-drop silence.
Well over half the patrons were now staring straight at Minjun.
With every eye locked upon his person, Minjun hesitated briefly.
“Well… where ought I to begin?”
“I cannot fathom what your realm is like, but its inhabitants must possess an extraordinary breadth of mind! It seems dragons truly vary. For a human and a dragon to share affection with open awareness of each other’s reality is unheard of.”
“Hush! Keep quiet! Minjun is preparing to speak.”
Minjun briefly contemplated whether divulging the truth was wise, but soon concluded that there was little harm even if the tale spread far and wide. This was another dimension, after all.
He recounted how he and Sia had started out as ordinary mortal partners, how a sudden tragedy had caused her to be reincarnated into the form of a dragon, and how their paths had eventually converged once more through interdimensional sorcery.
He purposely omitted the reality that Sia was in fact Shasha, the renowned Red Dragon hailing from this very realm, just as he withheld his personal quest to alter his racial form and become a dragon for certain reasons.
By the time Minjun concluded his tale, the previously raucous ambiance of the tavern had turned remarkably solemn.
“A toast in honor of Minjun and Lady Sia.”
“To their devotion.”
Kutun quietly lifted his cup, and every soul within the hall rose to their feet, clinking their flagons together in profound respect.
“It feels as though I have just listened to a deeply moving epic.”
“A tale of such sorrow and beauty that one cannot help but shed a tear.”
“…Indeed. Words cannot capture the depth of gratitude I hold toward Sia.”
There was also the painful reality that Minjun and Sia could barely remain close to one another due to their clashing energies, though he chose to keep that hardship to himself.
“Yet there is a question I would like to ask. I believe someone seated behind us remarked upon it earlier.”
When Kutun had fumbled his mug, had not the fox beastfolk at the adjoining table offered a strange comment while teasing him?
“What did you mean when you remarked that it was extraordinary for a dragon and a human to court even while knowing each other’s true identities?”
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