It was a quiet office in the royal palace. Luxurious decorations and a massive desk filled the room. Seated at the most distinguished spot, a breathtakingly beautiful man spoke in a low voice.
“Luce.”
“……”
A silver-haired man lightly tapped his fingers twice against the table. But soon, he curled those fingers into a tight fist. Carlo de Inehart clenched his trembling fist with all his strength.
“Back then, I said I wondered if I could change the fate of this continent.”
“You did.”
A golden-haired man stared unwaveringly at the one seated in the office. The bright gleam of his golden eyes shimmered within his pupils, as though trying to illuminate the dim interior of the palace.
“Then why!”
Bang! The man on the throne slammed his fist down.
“Why won’t you help me?! Once this final war is over, the continent will be mine!”
“Carlo.”
The blond man tilted his head slowly as he gazed at the human seething with rage.
“I did say I was curious whether you could change the continent’s fate.”
That much was true.
Carlo dared to look straight at the golden-haired man standing confidently before the king seated in his office.
“But in that statement, I never said I’d help you. Not even once.”
Tch. The sound of Carlo clicking his tongue echoed in the room. The Gold Dragon tilted his head further, waiting for his response. From the dragon’s perspective, Carlo’s seething anger was nothing but a burden.
“I really can’t understand why you’re so angry.”
Kukuk, haha— Carlo suddenly burst into laughter at the dragon’s remark.
“‘You can’t understand,’ huh.”
It wasn’t a laugh of joy but one of bitter resignation. Carlo sat back, laughing darkly, eyes locked onto the noble creature before him.
“You really don’t get it?”
“……”
The Gold Dragon stared back at the scoffing Carlo, his lips curled slightly in derision. Carlo gestured toward the large window along one wall of the office.
“Maybe to you, this feels like some child’s game, some trivial amusement, but this war… it’s the fate of the entire continent. Countless people will die in vain.”
“True. That may happen.”
Fate. That was the reason the dragon stayed by Carlo’s side—to witness it. Whether Carlo lost or won this war would determine the fate of the continent. Just like that mural in the dungeon.
The dragon’s face remained expressionless. His gorgeous blond hair sparkled faintly in the sunlight streaming into the office. Carlo glanced at the dragon’s chillingly beautiful face for a moment, then lowered his head and whispered weakly.
“You have the power to end this war in an instant.”
His tone was no longer that of a king—but of the young man who had once stepped into the dungeon alongside the dragon.
The Gold Dragon remembered the clear, pure look in that boy’s eyes. The youth had wanted to end the war himself, training with desperate determination to become a Sword Master.
But what the man sitting here now desired was the complete opposite of what that youth had once longed for.
“Of course I do.”
With a single gesture, the Gold Dragon could end what was about to become the greatest war in the continent’s history. Ruth looked at Carlo and opened his mouth again.
“But……”
The man seated in the office stiffened at the dragon’s continuing words.
“Then what would be the point of humans existing on this continent?”
“What did you just say?”
“If a war started by humans has to be ended by another race, then what justification is there for humans at all? Humans didn’t even care when the elf nation, El Mer, was destroyed—so why should I help them?”
The Gold Dragon paused to think, then concluded with a contemplative sigh.
“Ah… maybe this is the continent’s true fate.”
Carlo stared at the dragon’s expression with a hardened look.
However, the dragon’s face remained as expressionless as ever. Only then did Carlo truly feel the weight of the truth—that the being before him was not human. He felt ashamed of himself for having expected any sort of emotional understanding.
“…You…”
Carlo opened his mouth to speak but bit down hard on the inside of his cheek. Then he forced the words out.
“You’ll never understand.”
“Your pitiful little pretend war games?”
The Gold Dragon met Carlo’s furious glare with a calm stare as he responded. Through the office window, the view outside reflected in his eyes—groups of armed humans standing resolute, gazing out beyond the castle walls. What they were protecting was none other than this royal citadel where the dragon and Carlo stood.
Carlo gritted his teeth and muttered as if chewing on each word. A storm of emotions flickered across his face—betrayal, revulsion, disappointment—they surged through his entire body.
“…Even if you die, you’ll never understand this war.”
“Good.”
I’ve never wanted to be swayed by those kinds of feelings anyway.
With just the faintest lift at the corners of his lips, the Gold Dragon replied, his face still devoid of expression.
“Leave the office.”
It was an order—Carlo’s command for him to go. And the Gold Dragon, having no interest in staying longer anyway, turned swiftly on his heel and left before the king even finished speaking.
***
Shffft—
The large curtain in the academy dormitory was flung open in an instant. Sunlight flooded onto the plush comforter of a luxurious bed, drenching Adrian, who had been buried in sleep. His eyelids twitched slightly at the intrusion.
But the harsh sunlight didn’t ease—it only stung more.
Adrian squinted as he tried to open his eyes, scrunching his face against the light that pierced through. In that moment, he muttered irritably without fully waking.
“…What time is it?”
“Ten o’clock.”
The response came immediately. Phew— The Gold Dragon was already more than used to this kind of situation. He let out a long breath and sat up lightly. It was déjà vu.
“The training grounds should be open by now. Why are you still in the dorm again?”
Adrian sat up on the bed, running a hand through his messy hair, and asked lazily. But Mikhail, who was diligently doing push-ups on the dormitory floor, didn’t respond. He remained focused on his training.
Did he not hear? Adrian turned his head toward the prince’s direction and spoke again.
“Hmm?”
The Gold Dragon tilted his head slightly toward the floor, waiting for Mikhail’s answer.
“…I did.”
The prince let out a long breath and pushed up once more.
“Come again?”
“…They charged 2 Tilon just to enter the training grounds.”
Hah. Adrian chuckled under his breath. So that was the main source of revenue for the knight departments? The Gold Dragon nodded in understanding at the knight cadets’ plausible justification.
The prince had exactly 0 Tilon left.
“What a thorough system, huh.”
It seemed even royalty wasn’t given special treatment. But it was understandable. The academy’s policy was absolute: the moment someone crossed the forest boundary into Basamiel, all status and titles ceased to matter. If the academy had made an exception just for the prince, chaos would’ve erupted.
“Want me to lend you 2 Tilon?”
Adrian figured that on a class-free Wednesday like today, he could afford to sleep in a little longer or enjoy some rest. Lending 2 Tilon to the prince was nothing if it bought him that peace.
“No.”
Mikhail shot down the offer without hesitation. The Gold Dragon, having expected the prince to refuse, merely shrugged lightly.
“So what’s your plan? Still aiming to save up 10,000 Tilon in a year?”
Adrian leaned back against the bed with a smirk. It was a casual greeting veiled with subtle mockery, clearly intended to prod at the prince’s pride. Mikhail, still in push-up position, lifted his red eyes sharply.
“Why not join the Hounds at least? You’d make 100 Tilon a month and get free access to the training grounds.”
“…One hundred thirty.”
Mikhail ignored Adrian’s jab entirely and continued into his 130th push-up.
“And if you don’t borrow any Tilon, you’ll have no choice but to eat the ‘daily special’ for both lunch and dinner today.”
Adrian emphasized “daily special” with two fingers raised beside his face, wiggling them dramatically.
“I know. That lunch was already my last supper anyway.”
Huh? Adrian glanced back at the prince, surprised by how self-aware he actually seemed.
“Wait, you can eat the daily special?”
“I don’t have any Tilon, so I guess that’s what I’ll be eating for a while.”
His tone made it sound like it was nothing.
Hmm, the Gold Dragon tilted his head slightly and observed the prince’s face. Silver hair like Carlo’s, strikingly handsome features—it was all there. But maybe… something was different? Adrian thought back to Carlo de Inehart, the man who shared that same family name.
“You’re so annoying. Stop asking questions.”
Just before Adrian could forget how downright rude the prince could be.
A dragon meddling with a war would be worse tho. Its like using a nuke… if all dragons did, the world would be no more.