Chapter 267

Chapter 267 – Can You Fly, By Any Chance?

To begin with, it was only after I had fully delivered all thirty-three moonstones to the wyvern that we were finally able to engage in a proper dialogue.

Once our conversation concluded…

“So, Yeokcheon communicated with you? And because of that…”

[I have made my return. The magnificent dragon.]

The wyvern declared with immense pride.

Gathering the pieces of what it said, the situation seemed to unfold like this.

‘—Yeokcheon must have utilized his influence to resurrect me.’

A sudden inquiry crossed my mind.

For what reason did Yeokcheon operate through the wyvern rather than exercising his own capabilities directly?

Were there specific prerequisites required?

Regardless, I brushed those thoughts aside for the moment.

The wyvern informed me that upon transferring the entirety of its strength to me, it believed its existence had ended, falling into total stillness. Yet, when consciousness returned, it found itself resting within a mound of golden cinders.

‘—No wonder the weight felt so immense.’

Evidently, that was due to the wyvern being curled up inside it.

In any case.

“Are you truly a dragon?”

[Indeed. This physical form, dragon.]

“Have you ever actually laid eyes on a dragon?”

[Well…]

Its gaze shifted around, completely lacking a response.

[Be silent, you unrefined human.]

The wyvern barked at me sharply, then forced its forepaw inside the storage pouch I had fastened to its neck to rummage around. When its stubby, plump appendage pulled back out, it held a single moonstone.

Crunch.

I stood there observing the wyvern grind and swallow the moonstone for a brief moment.

‘Whether it qualifies as a dragon, a wyvern, or a mutated drake—that is a secondary issue.’

The crucial point lay elsewhere.

The wyvern now possessed a tangible, physical manifestation. Furthermore… there was the matter of our bond.

After spending some time thoroughly testing the link, I discerned that the pact between us had not dissolved entirely, though it no longer functioned as the spiritual contract it once was.

What exactly had it become?

…A familiar.

I had not completely comprehended every detail of the familiar contract that now bound me to the wyvern, but it contained one critical disadvantage for the creature.

The wyvern’s existence was now tied directly to my own.

‘Is that what was meant by forfeiting immortality?’

Should I perish, the wyvern would perish as well.

The rule did not work in reverse, yet it remained a highly dangerous term for the wyvern to bear.

Recognizing once more the magnitude of what the wyvern had surrendered on my behalf brought a heavy sensation to my chest, but I shook my head to dispel the somber thoughts.

Moving past it…

“…Thank you.”

[Additional moonstones?]

Perhaps it was the influence of the moonstones talking. I would not have minded granting it four portions rather than the standard three—allotted for morning, midday, and evening.

‘For the time being, the matter with the wyvern is settled.’

In truth, a far more significant objective remained. It could be considered the primary purpose of this entire journey.

The territory of Arapurugin.

It was time to secure a definitive pledge from the leader of the Kalia mercenaries, Captain Britra.

However, a thought gave me pause.

‘—They managed to escape safely, correct?’

If they failed, everything would go up in smoke.

Stifling my anxiety, I observed the environment around us to determine our position.

‘Let’s discern this.’

Ridges of mountains surged in a continuous line all the way to the edge of the sky.

This was certainly outside of Torres territory, but with nothing but peaks in sight, I possessed no inkling of our coordinates.

“How great a distance did you travel through the air?”

[Duration holds no meaning. This form is magnificent.]

It possessed absolutely no comprehension of the distance.

‘It seems we must simply sprint forward in a straight line.’

Very well. Selecting a single path meant we would cross paths with something eventually.

“Understood, let us move.”

Without wasting another second, I pushed off from my position and bolted down the slopes, though I managed only a short distance before being forced to retrace my steps toward the crest.

I had overlooked the wyvern.

‘Tch, it used to keep pace without any trouble.’

Now that it was anchored to a physical shell, it apparently lacked the ability to track my speed as before.

As anticipated.

[Me, me… I have been cast aside. Companion, garbage.]

The wyvern waddled down the decline using its brief legs.

I snatched it up beneath my arm and accelerated onward.

I reached the primary encampment of Lortel roughly around midday.

“What on earth transpired out there? And what is that creature accompanying you…”

The young patriarch had received intelligence through the communication crystal during my approach and stood waiting outside, his expression etched with anxiety.

Becoming this agitated simply from not seeing me for a single day.

Not that it displeased me.

As for the wyvern… how should I clarify its presence?

“Discovered it along the path.”

“A present?”

“Negative.”

How does retrieving an item along the way equate to a present?

He inspected me with a bewildered look, then rubbed his head, showing a bit of self-consciousness regarding his initial fussing.

“You appear remarkably unharmed, so I was merely jesting. At any rate, a fascinating creature. It bears the likeness of a drake, yet features wings…”

“A mutated drake.”

“Understood. Come, let us step inside. I possess more inquiries than I can easily recount.”

The young patriarch put aside his wonder concerning the wyvern and ushered me into the interior.

We stepped into the chamber utilized for strategy.

He opened the dialogue.

“What precisely occurred? The reports indicated you engaged two individuals from the Seven Mages. Every one of us assumed your demise was certain.”

I accepted the beverage provided by his assistant and spoke in an even tone.

Relating the events that unfolded after parting ways with Exstra. The manner in which Zaifo and Coksen met their ends.

Detailing everything save for the transformation of the wyvern into a dragon.

‘—The wyvern. Tch. Reflecting on it, the sorcerers of Decullan witnessed its presence.’

The thought brought a slight tinge of concern, though I dismissed it from my mind swiftly.

Who would place faith in the existence of dragons in this modern era anyway?

“…Astonishing.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

I gave a steady nod in response to his amazement. I myself felt startled, and it was a scenario of my own making.

‘Holland destroyed two members of the Seven Mages, but those individuals belonged to the lower tiers.’

Zaifo and Coksen occupied an entirely superior rank. And I had bested them alongside two full squads of sorcerers.

Yet that was not the primary issue at this moment.

“Ah, correct—did the separated forces return without incident?”

“The separated forces? Ah, Sir Exstra and the sellswords? Word has arrived that they are unharmed. They are returning to the headquarters shortly.”

Excellent, that provides some comfort.

Therefore, what is the subsequent step?

‘Proceed to Torres? Or bide my time?’

My urge was to race directly toward Torres, yet exhaustion weighed heavily on me.

The state of my physical form was superior to any prior period, but the psychological strain was profound.

There was no requirement to conclude the matter immediately, so I conversed with the young patriarch on a variety of subjects.

The exchange consisted mostly of his inquiries and my responses. I provided context where abbreviated summaries proved insufficient.

Once we concluded our talk…

“Indeed, I believe I must journey to Torres.”

“…Without allowing yourself further recuperation?”

I signaled my assent.

I could not permit myself to linger.

For the reason that the wyvern was no longer merely a wyvern.

“Is it within your capability to establish a passage to the Torres region?”

“That presents no difficulty.”

“In that case, I shall leave it to you.”

With those words, I departed from the primary encampment once more. On this occasion, I ensured the wyvern accompanied me.

However.

“Listen, do you possess the ability to fly, by any chance?”

[This form, dragon.]

“Yes, meaning, can you take flight?”

[…]

The wyvern maintained its reserve.

As expected, I had not anticipated a positive outcome.

Those diminutive wings scarcely appeared capable of lifting anything into the air.

With the wyvern incapable of flight, the optimal path was to hasten back to the institution with the utmost speed. …I remained uncertain if it could even be classified as a wyvern anymore.

At any rate, following my departure from the primary encampment.

I engaged in a brief exchange of pleasantries with the Kalia mercenary leader, Captain Britra, within the borders of Torres, subsequently utilizing the spatial gate Lortel established to arrive in an urban area adjacent to Hazen.

By the time I executed another spatial transit to reach Hazen itself, the darkness of night had fully set in.

I paced along the midnight lanes with the recognizable backdrops of Hazen surrounding me.

‘Recognizable sights.’

It was not as though my absence from the institution had extended past a full three days.

Even so, after those remarkably protracted three days, the metropolis offered a remarkably novel sensation.

Furthermore, the discussion with Captain Britra proceeded without complications.

• Since Pola gave her word, I shall respect it.

She conceded to provide the funds, viewing it as compensation for losses, and indicated she would forward the formal property transfer documentation to Pola at a later date.

What did that signify?

“…I am a proprietor of land.”

Indeed, I held title to property now.

Naturally, one might question why that mattered so intensely, but it resonated uniquely within me.

Consider the reality of it.

Brought into the world as a gutter-born child of the Black-White Slums, hunted relentlessly to the very threshold of the grave. Never remaining in a single location for more than a month, much less possessing real estate. And now, this outcome?

[Me, dragon.]

“I am a proprietor of land.”

[Me, dragon.]

“I am a proprietor of land.”

I increased my stride, eager to communicate the excellent update to my subordinate… rather, Evelyn.

Then a forgotten detail resurfaced in my thoughts.

‘Ah, it is currently the weekend.’

During weekends, Evelyn would typically be located within the Second Black-White Slums.

To locate her, I needed to guide my steps toward the Second Black-White Slums.

Reflecting on it, an encounter with Pola was necessary as well.

As I journeyed toward that destination.

I traversed the unlit terrain with a cheerful disposition. The celestial bodies gleamed with exceptional brilliance on this particular night—the atmosphere felt quite pleasant.

‘Observe, conducting oneself properly yields rewards.’

Positive outcomes manifest.

I accelerated my movement toward the obscured outline of the distant Black-White Slums. Or at least, that was my intention.

…Had it not been for the abrupt utterance coming from behind me.

“Greetings, young gentleman.”

The tone resembled that of a benevolent elderly relative from the area, yet every follicle on my flesh bristled instantly.

Intuitive signals of peril.

‘—From where?’

I could not identify the origin.

The words reached me with absolute clarity, yet no individual was visible anywhere?

I reduced my speed in a natural manner, and an elderly gentleman materialized directly in my path.

Supporting his weight on a walking stick, he massaged his curved spine—exuding the absolute aura of an ordinary rustic elder.

Yet.

An oath escaped past my teeth.

‘—Dammit.’

A recognizable countenance.

No, not precisely a familiar one. Even during my previous existence, I had merely caught sight of him a single time from a great distance.

Nonetheless, that specific face remained etched into my recollection with absolute clarity—and carried an equal measure of consternation.

The secondary ultimate authority of Decullan.

The occupant of the premier position within the Seven Mages.

Aevilon von Prauksan.

…At this precise moment, a sorcerer who had ascended to a rank surpassing even Patriarch Pahren von Decullan.

The pleasant disposition vanished instantly.

The unpredicted appearance sent a wave of cold perspiration down my spine as I forced myself to swallow.

Merely a short time ago, the setting was a starlit evening; currently, it felt as though an absolute void of darkness was constricting around me.

Aevilon and I remained positioned opposite one another, locking eyes. I initiated the dialogue.

“…Did you request my presence?”

“Hm? Ah, indeed. My apologies for that. It has been quite some time since I encountered such an excellent young gentleman… Heh heh.”

The silver-haired Aevilon offered a gentle chuckle.

No signs of hostility, no palpable pressure whatsoever, yet my senses reeled as though nausea might overtake me.

‘What is the meaning of this?’

For what purpose did Aevilon journey to this location?

Why block my path?

A knot of dark reflections formed, none offering a positive outlook.

Unaware of my internal state, Aevilon persisted in massaging his spine as if plagued by discomfort. Subsequently, he spoke.

And the reality became apparent to me.

My ominous intuition was entirely accurate.

“By any chance, is your destination the Second Black-White Slums?”

“…Indeed.”

“In that case, do you happen to be acquainted with an individual designated as a Duke? Or perhaps a Knight. Or a Mage. A title of that nature, from what I gather.”

…

Aevilon’s objective centered upon the Second Black-White Slums.

No, looking deeper…

“Have you ever possessed knowledge regarding the Magic Tower?”

The Magic Tower itself.