“…….”
Adrian idly glanced down at the sword of Fellen Deeps now resting in his hand. Clink—the sound of metal rubbing against metal rang out. As the pale blade slowly revealed itself, its surface faintly reflected a pair of brilliant golden eyes.
“……It’s seen better days.”
No matter how well its owner cherished and maintained it, the blade couldn’t remain pristine forever. Especially not a weapon that had seen actual battlefields, rather than just training grounds. This was no longer the pure white blade Mikhail had first received at Basamiel. The hilt bore signs of wear, and a few deep gashes marred the blade—damage far beyond what regular maintenance could fix.
But this wasn’t a decorative sword. The marks of use only made it shine all the more.
He could still hear Mikhail’s voice, as if the man were right beside him.
“You know I treasure this sword more than my own life, right?”
To entrust someone with a sword more precious than one’s life… Adrian honestly couldn’t imagine what kind of affection would drive a person to do such a thing. It was certainly nothing he’d ever done before.
As he continued to gaze down at the blade, Adrian’s eyes subtly shifted sideways. Someone was walking toward the tent. According to Mikhail, it was around the time for morning roll call, yet this person seemed to be moving freely—which likely meant they weren’t expected to participate.
Just as Adrian, who had been lounging casually on the bed, straightened his posture—
Shff, the tent flap rustled as it was pushed aside.
Sunlight flooded into the dim interior of the tent. The uninvited guest startled the moment their eyes met Adrian’s. They looked briefly panicked, probably thinking they’d entered the wrong tent by mistake.
“……Ah, ah! I’m so sorry. I mixed up the tents. My apologies!”
The boy quickly bowed and yanked back the foot he had stepped inside with. Then he dashed back outside—only to return a few moments later, lifting the flap again with more caution, having realized he hadn’t come to the wrong place.
“…….Um, excuse me, but… who are you?”
His tone had changed, now laced with deep suspicion.
“…….”
Who the hell are you, then.
Adrian sat upright on the bed, calmly watching the boy. He felt no need to answer the question—though that silence only served to fan the flames of the boy’s doubt.
“Hey? I asked who you are and why you’re just sitting there like it’s your place.”
With a voice now tinged with challenge, the boy stepped fully into Mikhail’s tent. For someone trying to sound threatening, he was still clearly a kid, barely out of boyhood, which made him seem no more intimidating than a puffed-up chick. He marched right up to Adrian and dropped the laundry he’d been carrying onto the carpet with a thud. He seemed to be one of the errand boys responsible for menial tasks around the base.
Adrian remained silent, simply watching the boy’s actions unfold.
“You’re really not gonna answer? If you don’t, I’ll call the guards.”
“…….”
Causing a scene was the last thing Adrian wanted. Getting the guards involved would be… inconvenient.
Letting out a small sigh, Adrian rose from the bed. The boy now had to tilt his head back to look up at him—his fists clenched tight and trembling slightly. He looked like he might actually try to lunge if things didn’t go his way.
Adrian had no interest in brawling with some overzealous brat.
“……I’ll leave.”
He ran a hand through his hair, messing it up with a sigh of exasperation, and turned to exit the tent. But before he could take another step, the boy sprang forward and blocked his path with both arms stretched wide.
“Not before you tell me who you are.”
The boy pursed his lips, clearly determined to get what he wanted.
If anything inside this tent went missing, it was obvious the errand boys like him would be the first to be suspected. And while the man in front of him looked like someone important—and carried himself with a certain composure that didn’t suit a thief—he still needed a name. Something he could point to if shit hit the fan.
That’s when the boy’s round eyes dropped to the object in Adrian’s hand—and widened in shock, as if they might pop right out of his head.
Only now did he register what Adrian was holding.
“Wait—do you even know whose sword that is?!”
It was the blade he’d only ever seen from afar, while attending to Prince Mikhail Luce Inehart at a distance. The sword its owner was said to treasure more than life itself.
Without hesitation, the boy reached out to seize the sword Adrian was holding so casually.
How dare he.
Adrian smirked faintly and shifted his hand just a fraction, effortlessly dodging the boy’s grab.
“Of course I know whose sword this is.”
Causing a ruckus in his current state—a nameless man with no official rank or status in the kingdom—would only bring unnecessary trouble for the dragon. So Adrian responded to the boy’s question with feigned ignorance and a vague tone.
It would’ve been easier if the boy would just let things go, as the dragon had hoped—but clearly, he had no intention of doing so.
“Exactly! That’s Fellen Deeps’ sword!”
“Oh, you’re telling me Fellen Deeps is still alive? How surprising.”
And with that, he turned nonchalantly and walked out of the tent. For now, it seemed wiser to wait for Mikhail somewhere else.
The boy stood dumbfounded for a moment, then let out a loud exhale and hurried after him.
“To think you’d steal Prince Mikhail Luce Inehart’s sword! Hey! Thief! We’ve got a thief over here!”
He shouted after the shameless thief at the top of his lungs. But most people in the encampment were away at roll call, leaving only a few weak errand boys or tethered horses to turn their heads at the noise.
Adrian didn’t even flinch at the shouting. He didn’t slow down either. Instead, he frowned slightly at the shrill voice trailing behind him, lost in other thoughts.
When the hell is this morning roll call going to end?
He was just about to decide to take a stroll into the woods to kill time when he caught the sound of several footsteps approaching. Clicking his tongue, Adrian came to a sudden stop.
It didn’t matter—one of the errand boys was already stepping right in front of him, blocking his path. Adrian turned his head back, visibly irritated.
“I’m not a thief. Mikhail gave me this sword himself.”
“……That’s the most ridiculous lie I’ve ever heard. Prince Mikhail Luce Inehart has never once left that sword behind in the tent.”
“Then ask him later.”
“Stop spouting nonsense and hand over the sword—now.”
The boy stretched both hands out toward Adrian, insisting. Adrian watched him coolly for a moment, then murmured, voice calm and flat.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
This sword had been entrusted to him by Mikhail. Losing it would tarnish the dragon’s dignity beyond repair.
The boy gave an incredulous expression and raised a hand to his mouth. Then whistle— a sharp blow called for reinforcements.
“……Wouldn’t it be easier if you just let me go without causing a scene?”
Adrian muttered, eyebrows pinched in annoyance.
“If you leave the sword behind now, I won’t say another word.”
“No thanks.”
It was clear now—only Mikhail showing up himself would resolve this situation. Adrian shifted his weight lazily to one leg, a crooked smile forming on his lips. He had no intention of handing the sword over to that brat. The sound of rushing footsteps reached his ears, people now responding to the whistle the boy had blown.
Seriously? Even after that, he’s not giving it up?
The boy stared at the unyielding man with anxious eyes, having already exhausted every option he could think of.
Then it happened.
From far away, Adrian’s ears caught the unmistakable sound of heavy wings beating the air. He turned his head casually toward the boy and asked, voice dry and disinterested.
“Just checking—tell me something I don’t know.”
“What, are you about to lie again to avoid being thrown in a cell? Save it.”
Despite the boy’s rude reply, Adrian continued without missing a beat. His gaze was fixed upward, toward the sky above them.
“You guys haven’t figured out how to summon beasts with a whistle, have you?”
“……What? What are you even talking about? Of course not.”
Finally sensing something was off, the boy followed Adrian’s gaze and tilted his head back to look up.
A dark shape floated high in the sky—so far away that its exact size couldn’t even be guessed.
“Hmm.”
Adrian nodded a few times, as if to say figures. If nothing else, this at least confirmed that they had a bigger problem now.
The good news? In just a few minutes, no one would care in the slightest that he had Mikhail’s sword in his hand.
