Let’s Go Together – Chapter 124

He felt uneasy under the dragon’s unwavering gaze. Ahem. Mikhail cleared his throat, his face flushed a deep red.

“Anyway, if we’re going outside, you’ll need a shirt and robe…”

He muttered, quickly averting his gaze. Even for a prince, standing face-to-face with someone who looked exactly like Adrian—shirtless and acting as if it were nothing—was a bit much.

“Sure. Wait a moment.” The dragon glanced briefly at Mikhail, then nodded and disappeared into his room.

Mikhail stepped outside alongside the dragon, now clad in a black robe. The sword of Fellen Deeps hanging at the dragon’s waist clinked with a metallic rattle each time he moved.

Mikhail, too, had immediately recalled what had happened at Basamiel Academy during the earlier tremor. As he suspected, the traces of a landslide they saw that morning were not natural phenomena. He glanced sideways at the dragon walking silently beside him. Perhaps the dragon had recognized the signs of a monster’s attack the moment he saw them.

Then why didn’t he tell me back then? Mikhail tilted his head, silently pondering the question.

Come to think of it, even the ancient records described Luce Fennigan as an exceptional mage who always tried to remain detached from human affairs. But if that were truly the case, none of this added up.

Wasn’t it this very dragon who made Carlo de Inehart, the founding king of Rustavaran, into a Swordmaster? For someone supposedly uninvolved in mortal matters, that was an unreasonably biased decision.

As befitted a peaceful rural village, the moon and stars shone brightly in the dusky night sky, taking the place of streetlights. After some hesitation, Mikhail decided to just ask outright. He hadn’t known the dragon long, but from what he’d observed, the creature tended to answer honestly when questioned directly.

“Have you identified the cause of the earthquake?” At his question, Luce’s golden eyes shifted beneath the black robe.

“No. I don’t know everything.” A curt reply.

The dragon possessed abilities far beyond those of humans, but that didn’t make him omniscient. Mikhail nodded at the response. “I see.”

“I’ve experienced this kind of earthquake before,” he murmured.

“Is that so?”

Luce feigned ignorance, pretending not to know. But Mikhail was clearly referring to the underground area beneath Basamiel. The dragon had also recalled that iron door the moment the tremor struck.

“Yes, under the academy I attend, there was a door…” Mikhail trailed off and cast a sideways glance at Luce. Back then, he had been with Adrian—whose face perfectly mirrored the dragon’s.

“Beyond that door was the Dohenia Volcano. I even found a lava lake there, with salamanders swimming in it—huh?”

Mikhail paused mid-sentence, recalling the events from that time, and before he realized it, the two had arrived at their destination.

Just like the landslide site they had seen during the day, here too was a massive mound of earth piled high.

And perched atop it, exuding an overwhelming presence, was a massive iron door—completely out of place in the natural setting.

“…That.” Luce’s gaze flicked briefly to Mikhail, then returned to the iron door. Mikhail, stunned into silence for a moment, finally spoke. “There was a door exactly like that underground.”

“How curious. The mana’s faint, but it’s incredibly pure,” Luce said, placing his palm against the door to sense its mana.

“You said the Dohenia Volcano was beyond the door back then? I wonder where this one leads.”

Wearing an expression of genuine interest, the dragon pushed the enormous iron door wide open.

What greeted Luce and Mikhail beyond the threshold was a gentle hill, its entire surface covered in blazing red flowers.

The moment Luce laid eyes on the view beyond the door, he froze in place. Mikhail, noticing this, looked at him with a puzzled expression. To him, it just looked like an ordinary field.

“I thought I’d lived long enough that nothing could surprise me anymore. But this… this is unexpectedly…”

The dragon’s expression turned grave. He seemed genuinely afraid of stepping beyond the door.

But that can’t be right, Mikhail thought. This was a dragon—by its very nature, the single most feared being across the entire continent. What in this world could possibly frighten a creature like him? What’s so strange about that hill?

“It’s certainly an unreal kind of place…” But beyond that, there was nothing particularly odd about it. Mikhail glanced once again at Luce, puzzled. The dragon continued to stare silently through the open door, his face still frozen in a solemn grimace.

“Ancient humans used to call those red flowers Mirkint,” he murmured.

“I see.” What does the name of a flower matter right now? Mikhail had never really cared about flora. Hm? A strange sense of déjà vu began creeping over him. It felt like they had once had this same conversation before. He frowned slightly at the unsettling familiarity.

But then Luce’s next quiet words cracked that thoughtful expression wide open.

“They bloom where dragon blood has been spilled.”

“…What?” Dragon blood? Then that would mean… the entire hill was soaked in it?

And that’s when it happened. As if responding to the dragon’s hesitation— Krrreeeak. A harsh, unpleasant screech of metal rang out as the iron door began to move.

Mikhail immediately turned to the dragon beside him. “Are you going in?”

Luce tilted his head slightly, his face still cold, utterly unreadable—not human. Then, finally, he grimaced and muttered,

“I don’t know. Should I?”

“Whatever made this door… I don’t think it intends to harm us.”

“Who knows? That’s the kind of thing no one can say for sure.” Luce scoffed at Mikhail’s innocence, a sharp edge in his voice.

He had saved this boy more than once at the Dohenia Volcano, and yet here he was, still too naive to guard his own life. Thoughtlessly assuming the best of others’ intentions was dangerous. That was precisely why Luce placed no trust in whoever had constructed this door without invitation.

If someone truly needed help, they should appear in person—or at the very least, speak their desires aloud. Instead, this suspicious gate remained silent and unmoving, and Luce stood before it, his gaze fixed, refusing to step forward.

Then—

“…The door’s moving again,” Mikhail said.

“I know.” Luce pouted, displeased with the unfolding situation. The timing was too blatant. It was as if something inside was urging them to come in already.

“Fine. We’ll go in. Happy now?” He grumbled, not to Mikhail but to that maddening, unseen being behind the door, and with long strides, stepped through it.

In stark contrast to the quiet village night they had left behind, the world beyond the door opened into a bright blue sky and crisp, fresh air. If not for the hill entirely blanketed in crimson Mirkint, it would’ve been a serene and lovely place—perhaps even to Luce’s liking.

Mikhail followed him in, stepping firmly past the threshold.

Something about this place tugged at him with eerie familiarity. Could this feeling lead to a clue about Adrian? There was something unnatural, almost fabricated, about Adrian’s disappearance. When he vanished at Hildeke Cliff, he’d been smiling—as if he’d chosen to fall. But why? No matter how hard Mikhail searched, he still didn’t know.

After Adrian vanished, Mikhail’s first move had been to seek out the head of the Hedera merchant guild. But all he learned was that Adrian’s family had severed all ties with the clan long ago.

“Adrian Heather? Yes, he’s related to the Hedera line, technically, but he’s an extremely distant cousin… Even seeing his portrait, I can’t say I recognize him. My uncle had a son, you say? Hah… They say no news is good news, but to think his whole family had perished…”

Mikhail had quietly watched the guildmaster’s mournful expression. Despite the deep wrinkles and signs of age on the man’s face, he could find no trace of Adrian in him.

And afterward, every person who claimed to know Adrian turned out to be a fraud—each trying to claim the reward.

Whoosh—a gentle breeze stirred his hair, pulling Mikhail from his thoughts.

Beneath his feet, red flowers bloomed thick and wild. Across the hill, spaced at wide intervals, were enormous, sun-bleached animal ribs—glistening as they caught the sunlight.

“What kind of creature are those bones from…?” They looked like the skeleton of a massive whale—but this wasn’t anywhere near a sea.

Mikhail stepped closer and gently touched one of the huge ribs. The ivory bone was strangely cold to the touch.

Luce answered his idle musing with a blank expression. “…A dragon.”

“…What?” Mikhail yanked his hand away, eyes wide.

In contrast, Luce’s eyes remained flat, emotionless, staring at a small mound rising ahead of them. Moss and weeds covered it so thickly it could hardly be distinguished from the rest of the field.

But as his gaze locked onto it—

Something at the edge of the mound stirred. A glint. Then a pupil, massive and cloudy, rolled into view—large as a carriage.

It wasn’t a mound at all.

[Child. You’ve finally come.] The hill spoke. Its voice echoed like a divine whisper from the heavens, rumbling through the very earth.

It was an ancient dragon, dying.

Before its sacred, gentle voice, the young dragon said nothing.

Khhrk… keh! The elder dragon gasped for breath, coughing in slow agony. Its massive jaws opened and closed as it struggled to inhale.

Drip, drip—then, from between its lips, a stream of dark red blood began to spill, thick and endless.

And beneath that great muzzle, the scarlet Mirkint bloomed in waves.

Author: Levia