“How much.”
At that moment, Mikhail’s voice sliced between the merchant and Adrian.
“Excuse me?”
“How much for the mutt? What’ll it take to take him with us?”
“Mikhail.”
Adrian’s low voice cut him off. A flicker of sharp tension flashed through Mikhail’s crimson eyes. He didn’t like how Adrian kept addressing him by name—as if they were equals.
“What.”
When their eyes met, Mikhail muttered as if it should be obvious.
“…I’m well aware dragging something like that around during a journey would be a hassle.”
So what?
Adrian stood his ground, arms crossed firmly, paying no attention whatsoever to Darphung, who was still panting and circling loyally at his feet.
Mikhail parted his lips as if to speak again, then shut them tight. Without answering, he leaned down and reached out to grab Darphung by the scruff of his neck.
Woof!
Darphung let out a short, disgruntled bark, perhaps sensing Mikhail’s lack of experience with handling animals.
With a resigned sigh, Adrian reached over and gently took Darphung from Mikhail’s grasp.
“You have to hold him like this. Otherwise, he gets anxious.”
He effortlessly lifted Darphung into his arms, as if to demonstrate.
Mikhail instinctively moved to mimic Adrian’s hold, stretching his arms toward the beast—only to freeze under Adrian’s gaze.
Before he realized it, he found himself staring at Adrian.
For several hours now—ever since the mercenaries had boarded the carriage—Adrian had seemed lost in thought, caught in some distant mental fog.
Probably off thinking weird things all on his own again.
Mikhail tugged one corner of his lips into a crooked smirk.
Adrian of Basamiel used to make that exact same expression. Back then, too, he’d ramble on about things like “Ordinas” or “the flow of fate,” spouting incomprehensible nonsense—only to end it all with a face that practically said, “You wouldn’t understand even if I explained.”
And in the end, with that strangely content expression, he’d stepped off the cliff.
Recalling that moment, a subtle tremor flickered across Mikhail’s elegant brows.
That expression… it’s not fair.
That face that said he didn’t care about anything anymore—that he’d be fine even if he died now.
Mikhail never wanted to lose Adrian that way again.
He pulled out his wallet and grabbed a few loose coins without bothering to count. Price had never been an obstacle to begin with.
The merchant, who hadn’t even had the chance to name a price, quickly thrust out his palm at the sight of a customer about to overpay.
“This should be more than enough.”
“Y-Yes? Oh, thank you, sir! Of course it is, absolutely.”
Without breaking eye contact with Adrian, Mikhail moved his fingers. Clink!—a few large coins landed in the merchant’s outstretched hand.
His eyes were firm with stubborn resolve, practically shouting: I’m buying him, no matter what you say.
Adrian furrowed his brow. Woof! Darphung barked cheerfully in Adrian’s arms, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“That thing’s stuck to you like glue—how can you just leave him behind without a second thought?”
“You clearly don’t get it. Darphung clings to everyone.”
Adrian’s reply was laced with disbelief. Meanwhile, Darphung wagged his tail and panted innocently, as if to prove the point.
Mikhail stared down at the creature, then lifted his gaze toward Adrian.
“And besides…”
The truth was, he had another reason. But he didn’t feel like saying it here and now.
Pfft. He stopped mid-sentence, his lips curling into a smile that he tried to cover with a hand—as if the absurdity of the whole situation had just hit him.
A golden-haired, handsome man holding a beast in his arms. And that man just so happened to be a legendary Gold Dragon.
The thought made Mikhail laugh aloud.
Seriously, what is this?
Adrian’s face made it obvious he could tell what Mikhail was thinking.
The image of Darphung with his constantly lolling tongue beside Adrian’s thoroughly unimpressed expression was almost comical.
“You two actually kind of suit each other.”
“You and that mutt.”
Adrian let out a short sigh as he silently stared at Mikhail, who was grinning brightly.
“…Why don’t you just insult me outright?”
To say he suited that dumb mutt Darphung—he’d never heard anything so absurd in his life. Adrian shook his head in disbelief.
Even after that, Mikhail kept picking up Darphung, who was walking just fine on his own, and dumping him into Adrian’s arms. Each time, Darphung, clearly fond of the warmth, would paw eagerly at Adrian’s coat.
Though visibly troubled, Adrian never actually pushed Darphung away. He had no idea Mikhail kept doing it just to see that look on his face.
***
On the way to the capital of the Delbaran Kingdom, the carriage was set to stop at three different villages.
Adrian and Mikhail now stood in the lobby of an inn recommended by their coachman.
“Sir…”
“I said I’d pay extra in gold. So stop haggling and just give us the best room you’ve got.”
Adrian glanced over at Mikhail, who was practically threatening the manager with a strangely domineering tone.
Whether the place really was fully booked or not, the innkeeper was clearly flustered, cold sweat trickling down his face.
“Mikhail, I think he’s telling the truth. This isn’t bargaining—he genuinely doesn’t have a room.”
At Adrian’s attempt to mediate, Mikhail sharply turned his head, eyes slicing through the air like blades.
Just from the look he shot back, you could almost hear him thinking: Whose side are you even on right now?
Obviously, it wasn’t Mikhail’s.
Just before entering the inn, Mikhail had confidently told Adrian not to worry. But Adrian had suspected from the start that there wouldn’t be any rooms left.
So the top-ranked adventurers across the continent really are all gathering in Delbaran.
Yawn. With a bored expression, Adrian let out a brief yawn. The innkeeper, catching the sight, looked their way with a dumbfounded face.
“Why don’t we try somewhere else?”
Adrian, who had been idly playing with Darphung using his fingers, pointed outside as he spoke. In response, the innkeeper shook his head.
“I’d say the other inns are probably full by now. Ever since word got out about the legendary sword, this area’s been swarming with travelers. It might be impossible to get a new booking for months.”
“Figures.”
That made sense.
Adrian gave a vague nod. He had no real intention of checking out other inns. If it came to it, he could just use a bit of magic, return to his lair to rest, and come back to Delbaran in time for the tournament.
“So what, are you telling us to sleep out in the cold this winter? The inn infrastructure in Delbaran Kingdom is disgraceful!”
Mikhail tapped his fingers irritably against the lobby table. The tone wasn’t something an ordinary traveler would use, but since they were in a different country from Rustavaran, it could just be passed off as a cultural difference.
The innkeeper, used to grumbling customers, handled him with practiced ease.
“All we can do is wait and see if someone cancels. I did offer you the staff quarters as a temporary measure, but you turned that down, remember?”
The temporary room the innkeeper had shown them was cramped and filthy. Mikhail’s face twisted in disgust just thinking about it again. He’d rather sleep in the damn carriage.
“Hopefully the next available room is more in line with my standards.”
This was supposed to be the first proper trip where he and Adrian could spend freely and enjoy themselves. There was no way he was going to let a crappy inn ruin the mood right out of the gate.
The innkeeper, sensing the type of guest he was dealing with, subtly tried to manage expectations.
“Yes, but… there’s a chance no rooms will be canceled at all.”
“Tell the guests considering canceling that I’ll throw in an extra fifteen gold if their room meets my taste.”
“Ah—you’ll add fifteen more gold…?”
That would bring the total cost of lodging for just a few months to a whopping forty gold.
He might be an even bigger spender than I thought.
The innkeeper’s eyes widened, muttering wordlessly to himself. He’d been so fussy, but now that he was throwing around that kind of money, it suddenly all made sense.
…At that price, we might have guests lining up to cancel their reservations.
“Finally, someone who speaks my language.”
Mikhail grinned, clearly satisfied.
At the same time, the innkeeper reached out and clack—picked up a magical communication device. He was contacting the guests currently staying in the best rooms to ask if they were willing to change their plans.
“Ah, sir. But…”
After finishing conversations with several guests, the innkeeper lowered his voice, cupping the mouthpiece with one hand.
“Just to confirm—will the two of you be sharing a room? The guests staying in our best suite say they might be willing to adjust their travel plans, depending on that detail.”
Sharing a room?
At that, Adrian’s brow arched slightly.
The Darphung, who had been dozing off against his thigh, perked up one ear, then let it flop back down again.
