“You wish I were there with you?”
He didn’t need to ask why—he’d already heard the reason straight from Mikhail several times. Adrian replied with an expressionless face.
“…Because you like me.”
Though it ended in a question, it wasn’t really asked out of curiosity. It was more like a muttered thought to himself. When Mikhail remained silent instead of responding, contrary to Adrian’s expectation, he finally turned his gaze toward the other man. Mikhail was staring at him, wide-eyed, seemingly too stunned to speak.
“…”
His expression was hard to read. Mikhail’s eyes were scanning Adrian’s face, as if trying to determine whether this moment was real.
Like he was observing him? Adrian tilted his head slightly, sensing something off about that look.
“Am I wrong?”
Maybe he’d misunderstood. That possibility crossed his mind—just for a moment. Mikhail seemed to snap out of his daze at Adrian’s question and responded right away.
“…You’re right.”
Didn’t think you’d know that so precisely, he added silently to himself.
Adrian scratched the bridge of his nose with one finger, lost in thought for a beat.
“You want me to stay by your side.”
He could feel Mikhail’s clear, sincere eyes locked on him, waiting for his answer. But answering that required more thought.
“You mean you need me? Not the dragon… just me?”
He already knew Mikhail’s answer—but knowing and understanding were two different things. Adrian Heather, as a person and not as a dragon, couldn’t offer Mikhail any tangible benefit.
“That’s exactly it.”
Mikhail let out a soft, brief chuckle. Just from the expression on his face, it was obvious that Adrian still didn’t grasp the emotion behind his request.
“That’s a strange thing to ask.”
“It’s okay. I’m not going to force you to understand how I feel.”
“…”
“But if this strange request sparks even the slightest bit of interest in you, I’d be glad.”
The moment Kyle told him, Mikhail’s image had flashed through Adrian’s mind.
Saying he had no interest would’ve been a lie. Adrian had come here out of curiosity about Mikhail’s condition. He just hadn’t expected to be asked to stay. Originally, he’d planned to fix Mikhail’s mana control problem quickly and return to his lair—this was a different direction entirely.
Whether he stayed here and kept watch over Mikhail, or returned to his lair and checked in on him later, neither option would harm Adrian in any way.
“Well.”
He cut through the tangle of scenarios in his head all at once.
He was a dragon, after all. The only thing that determined his choices was his own interest. Nothing else ever stood in his way. With a casual nod, he said,
“Until I lose interest, then.”
It seemed fine to stay that long.
As Adrian gave his lukewarm agreement, the tension in Mikhail’s face—wrought from wondering how a dragon would decide—finally began to ease. He didn’t bother asking again like some idiot, Really? Are you serious?
“That’s enough for me.”
His voice was firm. Mikhail laughed lightly and added,
“I’ll make sure you don’t get bored. Promise.”
“…”
Making promises was not something he could do lightly—not as a dragon. The moment when he’d lost his powers and made a promise to Mikhail passed before Adrian’s eyes. He pressed his lips together and couldn’t bring himself to respond to this one.
The sun was starting to rise. Even through the thin fabric of the tent, sunlight began to seep in.
As night faded into morning, birds chirped brightly in the distance. The sounds of people within the camp beginning to stir, waking from sleep, gradually grew louder. From inside the tent, Adrian could sense every movement outside.
The soft candlelight on the nightstand, which had been the only source by which Adrian’s face could be seen, was now replaced by the clear, golden rays of dawn.
Mikhail’s crimson eyes shimmered with a pulsing glow, as if responding to Adrian’s words. Adrian had thought it before, but once again, he had to admit—Mikhail’s confidence was something to be admired.
Once again? It hadn’t even been ten years since they first met. Hardly enough time to warrant the word again. And yet…
“Yeah.”
Adrian met Mikhail’s gaze as his lips moved. He could feel the stiff corners of his mouth slowly lifting. Come to think of it, during all the time he spent alone in his lair, he hadn’t smiled like this even once.
What a strange human. Still, Adrian didn’t find this unpredictability unpleasant—especially not when it was the very thing that could make him smile like this. The corners of his mouth curled up completely in a faint smile. It was the kind of smile that felt faded, like it had been left untouched for years.
Mikhail, facing that rare smile, stared back with widening eyes, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
And then it happened.
DONG— DONG—
A deep bell toll rang out, shaking the entire camp. Even the canvas of the tent seemed to tremble with its resonance.
“…What the hell?”
Hmm? Adrian turned his head slightly toward the outside and narrowed his eyes. The moment the bell stopped, all the humans began moving in unison with practiced discipline.
Annoyed that their moment had been interrupted, Mikhail ruffled his own hair with a disgruntled groan. It had been such a rare chance to see that smile—and that damn bell had ruined it.
“Must be morning roll call already.”
For someone who sounded reluctant, Mikhail got up from the bed in one swift motion. He pulled on a jacket from a pile of clothes stacked in the corner of the tent and slipped it on. After sweeping his messy hair back with a few quick motions, he looked just decent enough to step outside.
Adrian, still seated on the bed with his chin resting on one hand, silently watched him.
Roll call.
This was the front line, the very tent where Mikhail was stationed to fend off the encroaching monsters.
As Mikhail bent down in the distance to put on his military boots, he noticed the heavy, distant look in Adrian’s eyes. He tilted his head slightly.
“It won’t take long.”
He couldn’t have Adrian getting bored and returning to his lair while he was away. To that, Adrian replied with a disinterested murmur.
“You never know. On a battlefield, sudden emergencies are routine.”
War was always predictable in its unpredictability.
Someone might win. Someone would lose. But in the end, everyone walked away as losers—some strange phenomenon that seemed to define the nature of war itself. Of course, this time, humans were fighting monsters, so it was a bit different. Still, the cost was the same—lives.
Countless humans had promised to return to him, only to disappear forever. They were always so sincere, making promises they had no power to keep.
This is why I don’t bother investing too much interest in humans.
Adrian’s brows furrowed with irritation. As if reading his mood, Mikhail strode over with firm steps, thinking:
What’s he thinking about now…?
Mikhail tilted his head and hesitated for a moment, hand reaching toward the sword he had left by the bed all night—Fellen Deeps’ blade. What had Adrian said again? Sudden emergencies on the battlefield? At this rate, the dragon might just flip his mood and disappear back to his lair.
Then, Mikhail had an idea.
“…Adrian.”
At the sound of his name, Adrian’s eyes gleamed sharply.
Without a word, Mikhail extended his arm toward him. In his hand was the Fellen Deeps sword.
“I really won’t be long… so, hold onto this for me.”
“…”
Adrian ran his gaze over the sword slowly, then looked up at Mikhail with a surprised expression. This was clearly a treasured weapon—yet Mikhail was entrusting it to someone else just like that. That’s how certain he was about what he said.
Right. At least in that future vision, Mikhail had been holding this sword on the battlefield. Adrian slowly reached out and took the offered blade. Mikhail gave a small, satisfied smile and let go of his grip. The sword, with just the right amount of weight, now rested fully in Adrian’s hands.
“You know I value this sword more than my life, right?”
“…And you’re really okay leaving something like that with me?”
Adrian’s tone was curt, but he made no move to return the sword. The unease that had been growing inside him seemed to melt away the moment he took the weapon into his hands.
Mikhail gave a light nod and lifted the edge of the tent flap. Not wanting to be any later for roll call, he turned his head just enough to say, “I’ll be back,” and then quickly sprinted out.
“…You’d better come back,” Adrian murmured, eyes fixed on the sword in his hands.
