Ghelreis, who knew how this place had once been, clenched his teeth. “Let us not lose track of it.”
“Yes.”
Nodding, we followed the demon’s trail.
It wasn’t very long before we were able to find the Scarabaeus. It had its back to us, facing the darkness of the Great Cavern, and it was making some very animated movements. It craned back and raised both its hands high above where its head should have been, as if pleading to a higher power for salvation.
At that exact moment, the demon was crushed.
Replacing it in my vision was a huge — altogether too huge — scaly arm. The
General that Al had struggled so hard to defeat, who had been one of the highest-ranked demons there was, had been squashed like a mosquito in a single strike.
“Ghaha. How weak.”
From behind the Scarabaeus crumbling to dust came an inhuman laugh.
A black figure was lying there in the darkness. It was massive. No, the word
“massive” didn’t even come close to describing it. What came to mind at this moment, as out of place as it was, was my old school in my previous world. If the school building as I looked up at it from the front gate had been a living creature, perhaps it would have made me feel like this.
The silhouette shifted. I was hit by a cloud of heated miasma. I could see the glint of gold and silver in the area around the silhouette, reflecting the light of our magic lanterns.
“Welcome to my bedchamber.”
A golden eye stared at me. I was gripped by an urge to turn around and sprint in the opposite direction. What the hell was I supposed to do against this?
I grit my teeth and tensed my stomach.
“Weakling, mortal, speak thy name.”
The black dragon cloaked in miasma with a golden eye, Valacirca—
Calamity’s Sickle — slowly raised his head.
Chapter 4
He looked exactly like most people’s conception of a wicked dragon, stretched out on a mountainous expanse of the dwarves’ treasure.
He had obviously strong jaws, twisted horns, and a thick and supple neck.
His body was covered with tough scales, and from it grew a pair of large, membranous wings. The sharp, swordlike protrusions running down his spine became progressively smaller as they continued all the way to the tip of his long, elegant tail. They were as beautiful as they were fierce. I could see a brilliant mind in his golden eye shining in the darkness, and in the same body resided a nature that was horrifically vicious and savage.
“Well? Are you not going to name yourself? Struck speechless, I
suppose.”
He was so imposing that none of us dared move. My throat felt raw. My heart pounded at a terrific rate. Instinct, reason, and all my senses told me to run, told me that an overwhelming predator was right in front of me!
I acknowledged that terror inside my heart. Fear and anxiety are inner monsters that grow the more you deny them, the more you avert your eyes from them. If I couldn’t acknowledge the frightened, cowardly part of myself, if I averted my eyes from it and pretended to be strong, the fear would grow even more vicious in the darkness. What was necessary for confidence was not swagger; what was necessary for bravery was not pretending to be strong.
Everything begins with acceptance, I remembered Mary telling me. She was never disloyal to herself. She embodied all of this.
“Oh?”
I had to admit it. I was scared of this thing. I was hopelessly scared, and I wanted to run away. Taking conscious control of my breathing, which had become quick and shallow, I slowly inhaled and exhaled. I straightened myself up, raised my chin, tightened my abdominal muscles. Then I looked up at the dragon and asked him, “Shouldn’t you give your own name before asking the name of another?”
I was incredibly frightened. But I had decided to accept that and not run regardless.
“Hmm.”
The dragon looked down upon me, and with a noise that was neither a growl nor speech, it breathed miasma-tainted breath out of the corners of its mouth.
The hot miasma belching out could have been mistaken for black smoke.
“It seems you are not the common ruck seeking to plunder my treasure.”
Then, stopping to consider, the dragon murmured.
“Of course, you did claim the head of this Scarabaeus leading the
mountain demons and put them to flight. There was never the possibility of
you being average warriors.”
Seemingly satisfied, the dragon continued.
“In that case, I shall oblige. I am the Gods’ Sickle, Calamity’s Sickle.
Born with the light of the final stars, living more moons than the moon itself, I am the king of poison and brimstone and brother to lava—”
The dragon lazily got up. The miasma blasting out heat was so thick now I was almost coughing.
“Valacirca.”
The dragon as old as the gods named himself, spreading his wings with commanding presence.
“Now answer, small one.”
He had given his name in the fixed style I often heard in ancient poetry. I had to respond in kind.
“My grandfather was the Wandering Sage, my father the War Ogre of Leo, and my mother Mater’s Daughter.” I placed my hand on my heart, raised my voice, and named myself. The foul-dragon’s mouth twitched slightly. “People call me the Torch of the Borderlands and the Faraway Paladin. Disciple of Gracefeel, goddess of flux, I am William G. Maryblood.” I gave my name with pride. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, dragon of the age of the gods.”
I made my greeting not too polite and not too informal, and gave it with my head held high. The dragon was silent for a moment.
“Heh… heheh…”
He suddenly started laughing in a low voice, and then spoke at an equally low volume.
“What a coincidence. Familiar names.”
“Familiar?”
“If they had reached me before the demons, it is possible we could have
fought together, shoulder to shoulder.”
The dragon seemed to be looking somewhere into the distance. Perhaps he was seeing the Great Collapse of two centuries ago. Gus had said it, too: persuading the dragon to join our own forces was a possible strategy.
“Heheh. I detect a faint smell of the god of undeath. And you are a disciple of the torch. Yes, that explains why the ages don’t add up.”
With just that little information, Valacirca seemed to have guessed my circumstances.
“Now, then. We have talked long enough about names and histories.”
“Yes.” I glanced at my allies. While I was talking, they seemed to have managed to come to terms with the threat posed by the dragon. I was sure they’d contribute. I composed my breathing and prepared for battle.
“Faraway Paladin. Would you be interested in bringing me under your umbrella?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
My mind went blank for a moment.
“Why are you so surprised?”
The tone of the dragon’s voice was at odds with his words and seemed to contain a taunting grin.
“You have overthrown the mountain demons. I have lost the force I was
dependent upon. It would be dangerous and restricting even for me to remain isolated. You must see the necessity for me to seek other forces in which to to place my trust.”