Mikhail didn’t seem to hear Adrian’s voice telling him not to come in.
“That’s…”
Having finally stepped into the sanctum, Mikhail stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the ceiling above. With an irritated huff, Adrian flung his tail upward. Only after taking in the mural did the dragon’s furrowed brow begin to relax. Creak—the heavy temple doors behind them closed with a resounding groan.
Sigh. Adrian let out a short breath. Wandering around with this stubborn brat was nothing short of exhausting.
“Idiot. Be grateful that what’s drawn up there isn’t an angel.”
He muttered the words under his breath.
The ceiling mural depicted a horrifying scene. Yet the dragon glanced over the artwork with a dull, indifferent gaze.
“…Catherine’s expressive skills are better than I thought.”
The painting mirrored her descriptions with uncanny accuracy, as if her voice still echoed right beside his ear. It portrayed a wave of black mana engulfing everything alive across the continent. At the heart of the devastation was—unsurprisingly—a Gold Dragon, its scales corrupted and stained pitch-black. That’s supposed to be me? Seeing the dragon’s form from an objective perspective felt strangely off. The Gold Dragon, maw wide open, rampaged across the continent alongside the black beasts of corruption.
It looked like a moment of apocalypse captured by an artist who had witnessed it with their own eyes.
Hmm. At this point, I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that it’s not an angel up there.
Adrian glanced sideways at Mikhail, who was still staring silently at the mural.
“What’s with that face?”
“……”
Mikhail’s expression was something to behold. The confident, self-assured demeanor he always carried had vanished without a trace.
Adrian curled his lips into a mocking sneer.
“What, were you expecting something prettier?”
There probably hadn’t been a single time in Mikhail’s life where he didn’t get what he wanted. Born a prince, he had never known failure or defeat. To someone like that, the bleak truth of destruction might have been too bitter to accept.
Maybe I shouldn’t have brought him here. Adrian’s eyes narrowed. But regret now was pointless.
“Did you think Catherine was lying? Thought the mural might’ve changed in the meantime?”
“…No. That’s not it.”
Mikhail, who had been lost in silence, quickly shook his head and replied.
“Then what?”
Then why that look? the dragon asked with irritation.
Still gazing blankly up at the mural, Mikhail bit hard into his lower lip. His eyes kept scanning the painting as if searching for something.
“I don’t…”
The words that escaped Mikhail’s lips were ones Adrian had never anticipated.
“I don’t understand why I’m not in that painting.”
There’s no way I wouldn’t be there. Mikhail added quietly at the end.
It had been bothering him ever since Catherine first mentioned the ceiling mural. What was I doing in the future when things got to that point? Why wasn’t I able to stop it? Or… was it a situation that even my power couldn’t prevent? Neither answer sat well with him. The uncertainty made him clench his jaw hard enough to draw blood. The burning rage that had driven him here cooled instantly the moment he saw the painting with his own eyes.
He muttered quietly.
“Why?”
“…That’s what you’re stuck on?”
Adrian let out a hollow laugh at Mikhail’s unexpected question. So that’s what had him looking all serious. Big body, same tiny brain. The dragon caught sight of Mikhail’s fist clenched tight by his side.
“That’s not a small thing to me.”
Mikhail replied coldly to the dragon’s dismissive tone and fell silent again.
Adrian’s gaze slowly traced the contours of Mikhail’s face, still locked on the mural. So he doesn’t like that he’s not in the painting?
Weird guy, either way. The dragon let his expression ease as he casually pointed toward a random corner of the ceiling.
“Well… humans are smaller than dragons. Maybe you’re tucked away in some corner up there.”
He hadn’t meant to be comforting, but the words came out softer than he expected. He didn’t realize he had slipped into the tone one might use to soothe a fussy child.
Mikhail’s eyes shifted along the path traced by Adrian’s pointing finger.
“……”
But at the tip of that finger, there was nothing but a grotesque depiction of a black beast. Only then did Mikhail realize Adrian had been messing with him, tossing out a careless joke.
“It’s not there.”
He grumbled irritably, tilting his head up with a frown.
Seeing Mikhail’s expression, Adrian twisted his lips into a smirk of disbelief. He had a habit of forgetting that Adrian was a dragon, acting with a kind of impudence that he wouldn’t dare show to anyone else. Adrian had let it slide a few times, but maybe he’d gone too soft—this brat was clearly getting the wrong idea.
“Don’t twist my words. I said it might be there.”
The dragon muttered indifferently, rubbing the corner of his mouth with a finger. It was kind of amusing, seeing Mikhail get so worked up over something so trivial.
…He really has a nasty personality, Mikhail grumbled internally, catching the faint smile tugging at Adrian’s lips. It had been years since they graduated from Basamiel, yet whenever they spoke like this, it almost felt like they were back at the academy together.
Hmph. Adrian tilted his chin up toward the ceiling and narrowed his eyes.
“To check properly, we’ll need to get closer.”
The mural was so high up and so intricately detailed that even with a dragon’s superior eyesight, it was hard to make out the finer elements.
“What?”
Still dazed, Mikhail began to turn his head toward Adrian—only to let out a startled grunt as an invisible force suddenly gripped his entire body. He felt it at once: a powerful force lifting him into the air, tossing him upward. He instinctively shifted his body, trying to stabilize himself midair.
Tsk. A soft click of the tongue came from beside him—Adrian.
“Stop flailing.”
“I’d love to. Would it kill you to give a guy a warning before you throw magic around?”
Mikhail snapped, voice curt and annoyed.
Adrian reached out and caught his swaying body with a casual tug. For someone used to solid ground underfoot, floating like this wasn’t exactly a familiar sensation. The magic itself was perfectly cast—Adrian wasn’t about to make some rookie mistake like dropping him—but for Mikhail, it was still far more comfortable to stand upright.
“You need to see the mural up close. No matter how much your magic has improved, I doubt you could pull this off yourself.”
“……”
He wasn’t wrong.
Despite his outstanding swordsmanship, Mikhail’s progress with magic had always lagged. He had deemed it sufficient to be able to channel aura through his blade—that alone had seemed enough. After all, there were already plenty of skilled magicians on the continent. His goal was to become a Sword Master, nothing more. But in this moment… he wished he’d trained a bit harder in magic.
“Here, grab this arm.”
Adrian looped an arm around Mikhail’s waist and helped him balance upright in the air. Mikhail’s sharp eyes flicked to the arm and then to the dragon’s face. As soon as his hand gripped Adrian’s forearm, he felt the floating sensation stabilize.
There was something oddly natural about the way the dragon supported the magicless human.
“It definitely wasn’t like this back then.”
“Back then?”
“When I came into this dungeon with Carlo.”
“……”
Carlo. The name made Mikhail’s brow twitch.
Using Adrian’s arm as a brace, Mikhail straightened up in the air, finally getting a clear view. Adrian’s radiant blond hair swayed beside him, brushing against his neck. It didn’t tickle exactly, but it left behind a strange, restless sensation in his chest. Mikhail pressed his lips together and turned his head back to its original position, trying to brush it off.
He hesitated, debating whether or not to ask—then parted his lips.
“With Carlo…”
“Hm?”
“…Never mind.”
The prince’s thin lips shut tightly again.
He had started to weigh himself against Carlo—to measure just how insignificant he must seem in comparison to the dragon. But the thought didn’t last long. All he had to offer was that he was born a prince of the kingdom. Carlo, on the other hand, had adventured alongside the dragon for years and ultimately founded a powerful, enduring nation.
At some point, Adrian’s golden eyes had turned to stare straight at him.
His mouth went dry with a bitter taste.
