“They’ve figured out our location.”
Tsk. Luce clicked his tongue in irritation as he spoke. Mikhail immediately pulled out the royal dagger of Rustavaran from his wrist once again. If they had pinpointed their position, then it was only a matter of time before enemies came storming in.
“…How long do we have?”
In response to Mikhail’s question, Luce let out a long sigh.
“Who knows…”
Luce glanced down at himself, trying to assess their current situation as objectively as possible.
Both of them had just come out of the river and were still completely soaked. In this state, no matter which direction they tried to move, they were bound to be discovered. The crude concealment spell they’d used earlier wouldn’t stand a chance against the tracking magic of a seasoned mage.
On top of that, all they had was a single dagger wielded by a knight-in-training… and a dragon who couldn’t even use magic.
“At best? A few minutes.”
It was the worst-case scenario. Luce curled his lip and ran his fingers roughly through his wet hair. Rather than risk exposing themselves by moving, staying here in the open might actually be safer. Mikhail seemed to agree, widening his stance to brace for a possible sudden attack.
As if on cue, as though someone had overheard their thoughts, there was a faint rustling from the nearby trees.
[There you are.]
A man cloaked in a dark robe stepped out from the brush. He appeared to be the mage who had cast the tracking spell.
After confirming the two young men before him, he snapped his fingers with a sharp click. The sound was a signal to his allies—a notice that the prey had been found. The scattered mercenaries in the forest would soon converge on that location.
Mikhail raised his dagger toward the mage and spoke.
[…What’s your goal in all this?]
[Our goal, you ask.]
The robed man replied to Mikhail’s question. He was clearly letting his guard down, likely thinking the prey was already in hand. And realistically, once his comrades arrived, it would be as good as done.
The mage looked directly at Mikhail’s silvery hair and crimson eyes and grinned wickedly. A product this pure-blooded would likely fetch a top-tier price from the client.
[There’s a rumor that the royal bloodline of Rustavaran carries traces of dragon blood.]
[And you think that’s enough justification to abduct Rustavaran citizens? That’s sheer madness. What you’re doing could spark a war.]
Mikhail stepped forward.
[A war?]
The robed man lifted his chin and burst out laughing as though he’d heard a joke.
[What even is a war? Summon a dragon, and the whole continent becomes ours. A single flick of a dragon’s claw, and it’s all over.]
“……”
Mikhail frowned at the mage’s words, something about them dredging up a memory. He had heard this before. A group seeking royal blood. Assassins who had attacked a luxury carriage. Kidnapping… and dragons.
That’s right—Mikhail had heard all those terms from Professor Edwin of Basamiel Academy. Edwin had once advised him against venturing out too freely and had said:
“Mikhail, there’s something unique about your blood. In the secret auctions of the black market, royal blood is considered the most valuable commodity… because there are ongoing experiments attempting to extract dragon blood from within royal veins.”
Mikhail tightened his grip on the dagger. He’d dismissed it as just a baseless rumor, but it seemed the professor’s concerns had been right on the mark. It looked like this kidnapping was commissioned by someone trying to sell his royal blood on the black market.
He had no intention of being dragged off and drained for the rest of his life. If they ever discovered that he was actually a prince of the Rustavaran Kingdom, things would only get worse.
[…I doubt that’ll do you any good.]
The Rustavaran royal family had long held deep knowledge about dragons. Whatever these people were planning with dragon blood, if even someone like Mikhail—who was royalty—didn’t know about it, then it was probably just a far-fetched fantasy.
Of course, considering how he had accidentally summoned Luce with a dragon scale, even Mikhail couldn’t be completely certain.
[Whether it’s useful or not isn’t for you to decide.]
Dismissing Mikhail’s words as a desperate bluff, the robed mage let out a sneering chuckle.
Footsteps thundered toward them from the woods. Moments later, twice as many armed assailants as before emerged and surrounded Mikhail and Luce.
Was this the end?
Luce’s eyes gleamed sharply as he scanned the assailants one by one.
“That sword…”
His gaze refused to leave the weapon hanging from one of the attackers’ belts. It was Fellen Deeps’ sword. That bastard must’ve gotten his hands on Mikhail’s blade during the abduction. But that sword was never meant to fall into the hands of a lowlife mercenary hired for a kidnapping job.
A twitch ran through one of Luce’s eyebrows.
This… this was the same feeling he’d had when Mikhail nearly drowned.
That moment had been strange, too. Mikhail hadn’t come back to life through some amateurish emergency measure. Something—something had intervened with his fate.
The moment Luce had decided to willingly step into that fate.
Hah.
At the sound of Luce’s short sigh, Mikhail flicked his gaze sideways at him before returning it to the front. Whatever was running through Mikhail’s mind, it didn’t concern a dragon. Luce was honestly a little dumbfounded at the realization he’d just come to.
So the old wyrm had been right. These strange emotions he was feeling now—this was the mechanism that let him merge with the flow of this world.
Fine then, he thought. I’ll dive in. Right into your fate.
“Mikhail.”
“…Yes?”
Mikhail turned his head at the sudden call. The face that greeted him was identical to Adrian’s—but the warm brown eyes staring at him belonged to someone else. Luce gave him a faint, calm smile and spoke.
“Don’t worry. You’re not going to die here.”
Because I won’t let that happen.
That was the role Luce had to play in this world. With those words, Luce slowly closed his eyes.
Saaah— A chilly wind drifted through the forest where the humans stood, brushing past with a slow, spectral touch, as if in answer to Luce’s vow.
And the moment the wind passed… something strange began to happen. It started with the assailant standing directly across from Mikhail.
Suddenly, he let out a strangled gasp, as if something had seized his throat, tilting his chin up toward the sky. Mikhail caught sight of the man’s eyes rolling backward until only the whites were visible.
“What the…?”
Mikhail murmured, tilting his head in confusion. No one around them had made a move. Neither he nor Luce were close enough—or capable in this situation—to have used any high-level assassination magic.
[Boss!]
Regardless of Mikhail’s question, the man collapsed, helpless.
Thud. Crack! One knee, then the other, slammed into the ground. Foam began to bubble from the corners of his mouth. He lost consciousness while still on his feet.
[Are you alright?!]
One of the other men rushed over and tried to catch his collapsing body in his arms. Or at least, he tried to. But then his own eyes began to slowly roll back just like the first man’s. His mouth opened, as if he were about to speak—but no sound came out. Foam trickled out instead.
Behind them, the mage who had been preparing to contact their client via magic muttered gruffly.
[What the hell’s his problem now?]
He clicked his tongue in irritation, assuming the mercs were just faking it to angle for a bigger payout.
Then the man who had lunged forward to catch the “boss” collapsed in the exact same position, slumping to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. As his body slowly tilted to the side, the mage finally noticed something strange flickering in his own vision and let out a dumbfounded noise.
[…Huh?]
His perspective spun once, tilting sideways as the world slipped past his dimming eyes. The sound of his robe dragging against the dirt was the last thing to be heard before he, too, fell flat onto his back, eyes wide open, staring at the sky.
One by one, ten assailants dropped to the ground with no clear order or cause. It was as though they’d all been hit by a powerful mental assault spell—rendered unconscious without ever realizing what had hit them.
And so, a strange scene emerged: only Mikhail and Luce were left standing in the quiet woods, completely untouched.
“……?”
What the hell just happened?
Mikhail, his eyes fluttering with disbelief, turned to glance back at Luce.
There he stood.
Even under the midday forest light, his golden eyes blazed with an unmistakable glow. They shimmered like molten gold, radiant and vivid. Upon catching Mikhail’s stare, Luce twisted one corner of his lips up in a crooked smirk and murmured,
“Well, shit…”
His low voice echoed through the stillness of the forest. Calm and composed, yet resonant—almost divine, like a whisper from the heavens.
“Guess I overdid it a little.”
It’s been so long since I used this much power. His voice carried a clear thrill, laced with exhilaration.
Wait how can he use his magic??