The magical aftershock from earlier seemed to have been felt by the other beasts flying in the sky, because before long, the coordinated assault they’d begun toward the camp came to a halt.
Even with their dull instincts, they sensed that fleeing this place was their best shot at survival. The creatures that had been descending rapidly to close the distance turned back, shrinking once more into mere black dots against the sky.
“……”
Adrian sheathed his sword with a smooth motion, then looked back at the children with an indifferent expression.
The boy and the younger children stood there slack-jawed, their wide eyes seemingly on the verge of falling out of their sockets.
He had swung his sword only once. One effortless motion, yet it produced a deafening boom and stirred a gust of wind that rippled through the entire area. The beast that had been flying at them with its jaws wide open vanished as if it had melted away from that single strike.
“…You’re a Hero, aren’t you…”
One of the younger children murmured blankly.
It was a fairy tale every child in the Kingdom of Rustavaran had read at least once.
The sword in the man’s hand was none other than the famed weapon of Fellen Deeps, the Hero of the previous generation. It made perfect sense now why he hadn’t wanted to reveal his name.
A true Hero wouldn’t go around announcing his identity just for saving a handful of children.
“What?”
A Hero? Like hell I’d be doing something that pointless.
Adrian scowled, his face twisting with annoyance. If only they’d listened and left when he first told them to, he wouldn’t have had to draw his sword at all.
He was just about to sharply order the kids to leave again when—
“Adrian?”
A voice cut through the air, halting the dragon’s lips.
At the familiar sound of his name, Adrian raised one eyebrow. Slowly turning his head toward the source of the voice, he saw Catherine standing there, her long black hair flowing behind her. A few armored soldiers stood just behind her.
“…How are you even…?”
Catherine’s eyes widened, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
The man standing before her looked exactly like Adrian from Basamiel—too exact. But that Adrian had disappeared during his time at Basamiel Academy and was officially presumed dead.
For a moment, she was speechless. Then, her eyes caught sight of the sword Adrian was holding.
Fellen Deeps’ blade.
The same sword Mikhail had cherished like his very life.
“…Looks like you two already met.”
Her voice was cold.
Adrian, noting Catherine’s gaze fixed on his weapon, spoke up casually.
“Well, I guess you could say that.”
His expression didn’t change.
If this man weren’t the real Adrian, he wouldn’t have been able to follow the flow of her words so naturally.
Catherine’s eyes narrowed sharply. There was no doubt. This man was the real Adrian Heather.
Adrian, as if acknowledging her suspicion, gave a faint smile with his eyes slightly curved. It was a charming, disarming smile that could win over anyone.
“It’s been a while, Catherine-sunbae.”
“…I don’t know what kind of trick you pulled.”
Catherine’s words came through clenched teeth, every syllable ground out like she was trying to crush it.
To her, Adrian’s perfect smile felt nothing short of disturbing.
“But what you did to Mikhail back then… That was something you should never have done. You know that, right?”
Was it?
Despite the heat in her voice, Adrian’s smile didn’t waver.
He stared at her in silence for a moment, then finally opened his mouth.
“It’s nice to see you again and all, but… let’s get the kids inside the shield first. The monsters are gone, sure, but just in case.”
“……”
Only then did Catherine glance to the side.
She saw the three wide-eyed children still staring at the scene in stunned silence. The boy and the younger ones were quietly mouthing the name Catherine had used—Adrian. Sighing as if it all gave her a headache, Catherine let out a long breath.
Then she turned to a few of the soldiers still standing at attention behind her and ordered them to escort the children.
The children, having seen a Hero they’d likely never lay eyes on again in their lifetimes, obediently followed the soldiers.
“There. That’s done. Now you—follow me.”
Catherine led Adrian away, seemingly determined to resolve the situation as quickly as possible. Adrian gave a wordless nod of acknowledgment and followed her without protest.
The farther they walked in the direction she led, the more clearly he could sense someone’s mana. He had a good idea of their destination.
With a swift motion, Catherine pulled aside the cloth flap of one of the tents.
“Catherine.”
It was Mikhail.
He was seated at a table with a tactical map spread before him. He stood halfway to greet her but froze when he noticed the man behind her. One eyebrow arched upward.
“You brought him with you.”
It was an unlikely pairing.
Of course, to someone who didn’t know them, they might look like a fitting match—an attractive man and woman. But to Mikhail, who knew their personalities, it was anything but.
“Adrian is the one who caused that magical backlash earlier.”
“…Is that so?”
Mikhail’s gaze flicked briefly to Adrian’s face, then away again.
That Adrian had used magic was unexpected, but there was no doubt in his mind that this was the source of the disturbance.
No ordinary human could possess mana that pure.
Catherine scoffed slightly, her lips twisting in disbelief at his reaction.
“Not even a little curious how Adrian, who couldn’t use mana at all, managed to do that?”
“……”
There was too much history between them for it to be summed up in a single sentence.
Mikhail, hearing her question, hesitated, wondering how he could possibly explain everything that had happened—from Basamiel to this battlefield.
Catherine had always been a formidable mage and a trusted comrade. Naturally, he had intended to tell her everything about Adrian’s situation.
He just hadn’t expected that moment to arrive so suddenly.
Scrrrk—
Adrian, clearly uninterested in their conversation, dragged out a chair nearby with a casual motion and sat down with a soft thud.
Mikhail’s eyes flicked to him in a silent glance. It was obvious he was trying to figure out how to explain Adrian’s identity to Catherine.
Adrian gave a soft snort and nodded.
Honestly, he didn’t care how it was told. Mikhail could just blurt out the truth and say he was a dragon, or make up something on the spot—it didn’t matter to him.
“Actually…”
Encouraged by Adrian’s indifference, Mikhail began speaking slowly.
He started with their journey from Basamiel to the Dohenia Volcano, and how Adrian had entrusted him with Fellen Deeps’ sword.
Catherine sat in stunned silence, trying to process what she was hearing.
“Sit. You’ll want to hear this properly.”
Adrian, oddly polite, pulled out the chair beside him for her.
Still dazed, Catherine nodded and sat down.
Mikhail continued, recounting the pilgrimage they had taken together, the final moment on the cliff.
Catherine hadn’t known about the trip to Dohenia or the sword, but she had heard the story of Adrian’s supposed death. He had fallen from the cliffs of Hildeke.
Now, hearing it all again—with Adrian alive and sitting next to her—unease slowly began to rise inside her.
After a brief pause in Mikhail’s story, Catherine tilted her head slightly and asked,
“So?”
What Mikhail was explaining had nothing to do with how a dead Adrian had suddenly returned.
Mikhail, sensing the anticipation in her voice, paused for a moment before continuing. Catherine leaned in, now fully focused.
“Catherine. Have you ever heard of something called ‘The Dragon’s Game’?”
His voice was clear, steady.
“The Dragon’s Game? Of course I have…”
Tales of the mighty dragons—those ancient, supreme beings—had been passed down from gossipmonger to scholar, generation after generation.
Catherine, too, had heard a few of those myths. Not that she believed them. Why would dragons suddenly be relevant in this conversation…?
“…I know of it.”
Her voice faltered slightly as her eyes began to tremble. Slowly, she turned her head toward the man beside her.
That face—so perfect it almost didn’t seem real—came into view. He looked exactly like Adrian Heather, but something now struck her with sudden clarity: this was not the Adrian from Basamiel she had once known.
An overwhelming, unreal sense of presence radiated from him. His hair still gleamed like it had been spun from gold dust by the finest artisan on the continent. But now, like a tiny ant suddenly realizing the true size of the mountain it stood beside, Catherine finally saw him.
She swallowed hard.
The eyes she had always thought were a warm, ordinary shade of brown…
Now shone like two full moons hanging in the sky at midday.
“…My god…”
The words slipped from her lips in a hushed, breathless whisper.
The Dragon’s Game.
True to her reputation as Basamiel’s top scholar, Catherine understood everything from just that one phrase.
