Chapter 3
Three years had passed since Artesia’s death, and by the time the epidemic known as the “World Tree’s Curse” had completely subsided, Kurtz was flying around various places gathering information.
However—by that time, the world was gradually beginning to change.
While the Ornament Duke family was expanding their territory toward the northern part of the continent, using Sylvayu as their base while controlling the elves, a tragic incident occurred among the dragonkin.
“Sanctus’s Divine Punishment”
The incident that came to be known by this name began with a single gold ingot discovered at a bank in the imperial capital.
The empire issued not only conventional currency but also exchangeable paper money aimed at wealthy merchants and nobles, and the Sanctus Duke family oversaw these banking operations.
However, when an elaborate counterfeit was discovered among the gold ingots brought to the imperial capital’s bank, Sanctus investigated the source of the counterfeits to protect their credibility and authority.
As a result—the fact came to light that the counterfeit gold ingots had flowed from dragonkin territory.
The Sanctus Duke family demanded protests and reparations from the dragonkin nation, the “Dragon Soaring Nation Starkblut,” but the dragonkin side completely denied any involvement and maintained a rigid stance, rejecting the demands.
The Sanctus Duke family interpreted this as a declaration of war, and after issuing a statement, they took direct action.
“We shall deliver divine punishment to those with abominable alien forms who refuse to acknowledge their own evil deeds and sins.”
The Sanctus Duke family dispatched the “Saint” and her direct knight order to dragonkin territory, massacring the dragonkin and creating seas of blood. Starkblut surrendered, the king who was their sovereign and those bearing royal family names were executed, and all national governance was dismantled, forcing them into subjugation to Sanctus.
In the midst of such circumstances, Kurtz had traveled to a town some distance from Mount Fleet.
“—Excuse me, would it be alright if I shared this table?”
Upon entering the tavern, Kurtz called out to a dragonkin man sitting at the edge of the establishment.
“I’m studying folklore in the northern regions, but given the current situation, I’m uneasy about being alone. So I thought I’d like to sit with a dragonkin gentleman.”
“……I see, that’s a wise judgment.”
When Kurtz explained with a northern accent mixed in, the man turned his dragon head and returned bland words.
“Do as you please. I’m something of an outsider here myself.”
“I appreciate it. I’m Fict, it’ll be a brief acquaintance but please treat me well.”
When Kurtz raised his open hand along with his false name, the man glanced at it once before clapping his hand in return.
“……Falsen. The fact that you raised your palm suggests you have some understanding of dragonkin.”
“I heard that dragonkin men find handshakes difficult, so during greetings, you strike each other’s hands.”
“That’s correct. It seems your approaching me was also intentional.”
The appearance of Falsen differed from the dragonkin visible in the establishment, and it was clear that the land and the dragonkin’s species type didn’t match, so Kurtz had called out to him, seeing him as someone who came from elsewhere like himself.
Really, that was the only reason.
“Why is Falsen in this town?”
“……I’m in the middle of returning home. My hometown is near Mount Fleet.”
“Mount Fleet… by any chance, are you from Vechta Village?”
“……You know of it?”
“Of course. What I was investigating was also the legend of the ‘Dragon King’s Graveyard.'”
Indeed, the reason Kurtz had come visiting was to investigate the legend.
Mount Fleet was an active volcano, and volcanic activity had been recorded at regular intervals.
However, since no activity had been observed for the past three hundred years, his purpose was to investigate the relationship with Eisenhud and the Ornament Duke family that later held the territory.
“If you wouldn’t mind, could you tell me in detail about the legend of the ‘Dragon King’s Graveyard’ as someone from Vechta Village? If you could also provide guidance, I’ll pay a fee.”
“……Guidance is impossible, but I don’t mind telling you about the legends and anecdotes passed down in the village to that extent. Though it’s content that even our own kind no longer care about these days.”
After self-deprecating words, Falsen told him about the legend of the “Dragon King’s Graveyard.”
Falsen’s manner of speaking was quiet and utterly calm throughout.
Even so, Falsen spoke about the legend in detail and fluently.
How the clan had protected the “Dragon King’s Graveyard” with such feelings.
How much pride they held in their mission.
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“There were times we were ridiculed as being outdated or the delusions of country folk. Even among dragonkin who had forgotten their pride as dragonkin, some would say the ‘Dragon King’ was nothing more than a fantasy created by ancient dragonkin to show their species’ superiority. But still—believing in the ‘Dragon King’s’ existence was our faith, and fulfilling that ‘dream’ was our clan’s wish.”
“……Dream?”
“Yes. The ‘dream’ of wanting to see the ‘Dragon King’s’ form, even just once.”
From an outsider’s perspective, that “dream” seemed like stale and trivial content.
However, unlike before, Falsen’s manner of speaking conveyed passion.
“What we had believed in wasn’t wrong, the clan’s will that we had stubbornly continued to uphold wasn’t wrong… believing that those feelings would be rewarded by seeing the ‘Dragon King’s’ form, our ancestors and we continued to remain in the land called the ‘Dragon King’s Graveyard’—that’s the story.”
After concluding his tale, Falsen vigorously gulped down his cup of sake.
“Though in the end, it seems the ‘Dragon King’ was just a fantasy after all.”
“……Why did you come to think that?”
“In the past, when dragonkin suffered human invasion and lost many of our brethren in that war, grieving in sorrow… there are records that the dragonkin heard the ‘Dragon King’s’ words.”
“‘My descendants who carry my blood. Even if times change and that throne is overturned, you must not break the wings and fangs in your hearts. Those who aim for the summit time and again are the ones who inherit the king’s lineage.'”
“……You really are quite knowledgeable.”
“I’ve been researching various things. How does that lead to denying the ‘Dragon King’s’ existence?”
In response to Kurtz’s question, Falsen paused before gazing at the ceiling.
“A little while ago, many of our brethren lost their lives to the empire’s purge. And even now, many are looking down, in the midst of despair, but… even so, the ‘Dragon King’ never spoke to us.”
If the “Dragon King” had spoken to them as in the legend, Falsen would have been able to believe in the “Dragon King’s” existence until his final moments.
However, that wish was not granted.
The feelings and will that the clan had believed in were never rewarded; they were nothing but fantasy.
That’s why—Falsen had chosen to return to his hometown.
“Fict-dono. May I ask you something in return?”
“……Ah, what is it?”
“If you’ve thoroughly researched dragonkin legends, you must have heard from many people that the legend of the ‘Dragon King’s Graveyard’ lacks credibility. Despite that, why did you think to travel to this remote land and risk danger to investigate the truth?”
In response to Falsen’s question, Kurtz withheld his answer and hesitated.
He could have lied about his reasons here, but he didn’t want to do something like lying to Falsen, who was both a stranger and of a different race, yet had sympathized with Kurtz and earnestly shared his clan’s feelings.
“There’s someone I absolutely want to save, and it might connect to a method of saving that person.”
While thinking of Artesia’s image, Kurtz continued his words.
“I don’t know if that information has meaning. It might not mean anything at all. Even if I obtain it, it might only have the value of a grain of sand. But I wished to gather every grain of sand to turn the dream of saving someone precious into reality.”
In response to Kurtz’s words, Falsen listened silently without saying anything, but—
Suddenly, he raised the corners of his mouth widely and bared his fangs.
When Kurtz’s eyes widened in surprise, Falsen opened his mouth and let out laughter.
“Haha… sorry, I never thought I’d meet someone like myself here, so I forgot to open my mouth.”
“……That was quite intimidating to see up close.”
“Naturally. After all, I’m from a race that carries the ‘Dragon King’s’ blood.”
Along with his fierce smile, Falsen thrust out his tightly clenched fist.
“In my village, instead of striking each other’s palms, the custom during greetings is to bump fists. The meaning is that without unclenching your gripped fist, you should carry through with what you’ve decided once.”
“That’s an interesting story. An acquaintance of mine has the same kind of creed, so if you two met, you could probably share some good sake.”
Smiling at the unexpected story, Kurtz clenched his fist and bumped it with Falsen’s.
At that time, he didn’t mind that Falsen hadn’t given a response.
“—I too, along with the ‘Dragon King,’ wish for your desire to be fulfilled.”
With a fierce but strangely charming smile, Falsen spun words of blessing.
That was—the last smile of Falsen’s that he saw.
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