Chapter 215 - Leashed Dragons (2)

It was a dirty and shaded alley.

The kind of alley where garbage caught on the tips of your toes with every step forward.

However, there was an unmistakable urgency in the eyes of those running through that alley now.

"Quiet! They're nearby!"

At the tense warnings spat out by the men, suppressed groans began to escape from the people's mouths once again.

Elders, women, and even young children.

They had to leave an alley they were just starting to grow attached to, but in the face of the dragon killer knights, even the slightest bit of regret was a luxury.

"So this is where you were."

But despite their desperate efforts to hold their breath, there was a man who ultimately blocked the alley.

Displaying the Dragulia crest engraved on his breastplate, the man tilted his head as he looked at the Luga tribe refugees before him.

"You look like cats, but you act like rats."

Behind the back of the man who wore a mocking smile, the air was filled with smoke that had just begun to rise.

The smoke, carrying the acrid scent of tobacco, was gradually covering the alleys, but it seemed it couldn't obscure the vision of the knight who had just popped out.

"Anyway, these beastmen breed like crazy the moment you take your eyes off them."

Under the knight's gaze, which was as bleak as a blade, the beastmen children stood frozen, unable to move.

They seemed overwhelmed by that cold glare, which didn't view them as fellow human beings.

"Hm?"

It was laughable to see the Luga tribe men drawing their swords as if they could somehow stop him.

However, the knight of the dragon killer knights couldn't smile at their pathetic display.

"Who's there?"

Because there was a gaze he felt from behind, a presence that had definitely been imperceptible just a moment ago.

And that gaze was growing more intense along with the sound of crunching footsteps.

"What an ill-mannered fellow."

"......!"

It was red hair.

The color of the man staring at him through the rising smoke.

Exuding a strong presence even in the hazy scenery, he was a man the knight knew well.

"Isn't it basic etiquette to state your own name before asking for someone else's?"

Seeing a familiar face in a completely unfamiliar place, the knight's face was filled with bewilderment.

And understandably so, because the Radu Dragulia he knew should have been a dying old man, stripped of his vitality.

"R-Radu Dragulia?"

"Seeing as you recognize me, you must indeed be from the dragon killer knights."

Radu was moving, stepping through the smoke pouring down the alley.

Toward the knight who didn't know what to do in front of him.

For some reason, there was not a hint of frailty in Radu as he steadily drew closer.

"But if you recognized me, you should have run away right then."

CRUNCH!

"Keugh!"

In fact, his momentum was far more vicious than when the knight had seen him before.

The knight had been extremely tense at that momentum, but the horrific sensation of his chest being pierced happened in the blink of an eye.

It was a speed the Radu he knew could never have achieved, yet his blue eyes had already reached right in front of him.

"Ughhh..."

"I told you, I am Radu Dragulia."

Radu's expression as he snickered, mocking his prey, was pale.

However, a red hue lingered on his protruding fangs, as if he had just swallowed blood.

"Let's see here."

"Gaaargh!"

Radu raised the sword that pierced the knight high into the air.

The man's flailing gestures as he struggled to even exhale were pitiful, but Radu merely smiled and calmly admired the flowing blood.

"... I don't really feel much looking at other blood anymore."

Along with his own eyes that glowed a deeper blue than ever before.

SLASH!

Cleaving the knight in half with a bored look in his eyes, Radu walked back into the smoke-filled alley as if nothing had happened.

Radu's cruel demeanor, subduing violence with even greater violence, was exactly the image of a dragon that Dragulia demanded.

* * *

"......"

Mircea was silently glaring at the dead Luga tribe man.

More accurately, he was looking at the bizarre crest the man had tried to draw on the wall until his final moment.

"It's magic."

The Luga tribe man who hadn't let go of the chalk he held even in his dying moments.

As soon as he drew the crest on the wall, hazy smoke had begun to billow up in the alley where Mircea stood.

Mircea couldn't help but frown at the smoke, which carried an acrid scent like the smoke from a lit cigarette.

"... And from a fairly noble mage at that."

Turning his head, Mircea clicked his tongue at the scenery that had already changed.

The alleyways were writhing ceaselessly even in the short moment it took to blink.

Every time someone tapped off tobacco ash in a room, or exhaled smoke gathered in their lungs, the scenery ahead grew faint.

KAAARGH-!

"You bastard! Who are you?!"

The voices echoing from all over were familiar.

The echoes of those screams, which sounded as if they were right next to him yet impossible to gauge the distance of, irritated Mircea's nerves before beginning to fade away.

"You've grown quite a bit. Excellent."

Standing still and assessing the situation, Mircea nodded as if he had guessed who had cut off those screams.

The mystery of the Luga tribe was certainly impressive, but it wasn't enough to cleave through his direct knights.

The only swordsman who would swing a sword on behalf of the Luga tribe in this wretched alleyway would be that guy.

"Yeah. I knew it would be you."

As if to prove Mircea's guess right, a hazy silhouette began to writhe from the alley far away.

The man who walked out through the fog had blond hair and blue eyes, just like Mircea.

"How many did you cut down?"

"Roughly six."

It meant that he had cut down his subordinates, but Mircea merely wore a satisfied expression.

As if to say that someone of his bloodline should at least be able to cleave the Empire's finest knights.

"What about the rest?"

"Radu will take care of them."

Casually flicking off the drops of blood still clinging to his sword, Vlad looked at Mircea and spoke.

"I fed him some blood, and he turned out to be pretty useful."

"... Hah."

Mircea let out a short sigh, seeming dumbfounded by Vlad's statement that he had shared his blood with Radu.

"You should have the realization that you're a dragon by now, shouldn't you?"

The perfection passed down through blood was like an instinct that all dragons couldn't help but obsess over.

Since they were born to pursue perfection in the first place, their refusal to share their potential was, in a way, entirely natural.

However, the answer Vlad gave wasn't the kind Mircea expected.

"Because I don't want to live sucking other people's blood."

GRRRND-

The dirt around his firmly planted foot began to be pushed away.

Along with that, a golden line was streaming down from Vlad's closed left eye.

That line, spreading like paint, lingered around Vlad without ever dropping to the ground.

"I'm not going to live like you guys."

Above the fog-filled clearing, Vlad was speaking.

Declaring that he would not live the way his inherited blood dictated.

As if to sever the leash forced on him in the name of instinct, Vlad was currently preparing a single strike.

* * *

CRASH!

An immense sound no one could have anticipated echoed throughout the city of Namarca.

This sound, which even the painstakingly crafted barrier failed to contain, was so massive that everyone in the city could hear it.

"... Oh my."

Kindling her mystery in the room where everyone had left, the Luga tribe's godmother couldn't hide her surprised expression as she looked at her severely bent tobacco pipe.

It was a tool the godmothers of the Luga tribe had wielded throughout their lives for generations, yet it was unable to withstand the single shockwave echoing right now.

"Indeed, he is the most perfect dragon."

And the most noble knight.

Being just one of the two would have been enough to astound the world, but since Vlad harbored both, the Luga tribe's godmother felt dizzy at the sheer potential he possessed.

CLAAANG!

"What will he become this time? Just what."

They called it potential because it meant he could become anything.

And the crystallization of that potential was none other than the most perfect dragon.

However, the most perfect dragon of the previous era had crushed all the possibilities in this world just to fly alone, so most races, including the beastmen, were still unable to recover from the scars of that time.

"I pray your decision is the right one, oh noble knight."

With those words, the Luga tribe's godmother hesitated for a moment before tapping off the ash inside her pipe with trembling hands.

Because Vlad's writhing, which couldn't be hidden even if she tried, had already grown large enough for even the oldest dragon far away to recognize.

* * *

CRAAAASH!

The sound of buildings collapsing was deafening.

It was the scream of the back alleys of Namarca, entirely chaotic and haphazardly built due to their lack of order.

"You've grown a lot!"

Although he was praising his opponent, the relaxed demeanor Mircea usually displayed was nowhere to be seen on his face.

It was because he had taken the full brunt of Vlad's strike, which was too fast to dodge and too heavy to parry.

"It seems you don't even need Rutiger anymore!"

In Bastopol, the city of the Iron Duke, Vlad had been beneath Mircea.

He had been someone who could only barely match up to him when fighting alongside Rutiger, but now Vlad seemed to have reached a completely different level from back then.

CRASH!

Under the ferocious force of Vlad's swinging sword, Mircea was shoved far back once again, smashing through buildings.

But even amidst the thick stone dust kicked up by the collapsing buildings, the golden thread Vlad created remained vivid, drawing Mircea's gaze like a halo of light hanging over the horizon.

"Why do you talk so much while fighting?"

"Because I'm proud of you."

"Proud, my ass."

However, the light trying to rise through Vlad's world seemed somewhat muted today, as if rising through a thick water fog.

"You guys just made me to eat me anyway, didn't you?"

He was trying not to show it, but Vlad's voice harbored an unavoidable resentment toward the Dragonblood Duke.

"Hearing the secret of my birth from someone else's mouth was as shitty as it gets."

The clashing swords began to grow as heavy as the anger Vlad harbored.

Mircea had no choice but to shut his mouth at the balance of power that was steadily tipping.

"... It's just my mom who was pitiful. Giving birth to a worthless piece of shit like me."

Born as the child of a prostitute, he hadn't exactly expected much from the concept of a father.

Still, he had merely thought that, if he ever met the man who was his father later in life, he might at least offer him a drink.

However, the truth he had faced through Radu brutally shattered even the single thread of hope Vlad had held onto.

"I hate you guys. Dragulia. Enough to really want to kill you."

The seed of the dragon scattered in the North. Vlad.

To think that the reason a person like him was born was merely to be eaten by someone else.

HUMMM-

The sword was crying.

The Dragon Slaying Sword, which understood its master's anger and sorrow.

It was shouting to the blond hair and blue eyes that he wasn't born to live like that.

The oldest dragon

The smoke that had filled the alleyways was steadily fading.

Because the presence of the dragons roaring in the distance was tearing apart the barrier the godmother had created.

"Is it done now?"

However, beneath Radu's feet, instead of the pure white smoke the godmother had made, there was a pool of bright red blood.

That blood spilled by the last member of the dragon killer knights was proof that Radu had kept his promise to Vlad, and at the same time, it meant the Luga tribe's safety was secured.

"Anyway, this is really unsettling. It's not going to suddenly strangle my neck later, is it?"

Looking at the knight lying on the ground, Radu frowned as he stroked the tattoo engraved on his neck.

Radu probably didn't know it, but that ominous tattoo, which looked as if it were tightly bound by thorny vines, closely resembled the pact that bound the oldest dragon.

"Hm?"

CRASH!

Beyond the now completely shredded barrier, an iridescent light began to spew forth along with a deafening sound.

Mircea's world was like a flawless jewel.

Realizing who that light was seeping from, Radu wore a bitter expression and began walking down the alleyway.

"Unlike me, a special guy is a special guy."

Born from the same father, yet I was merely a half-wit and he was a perfect dragon.

Therefore, Radu, who had never once managed to draw out Mircea's earnest world, couldn't help but reveal his complex and subtle emotions at the brilliant jewel-light shining in the distance.

"... This should be enough, right."

Thinking he had kept his promise to Vlad, Radu quietly slipped away from the direction the group was moving and began heading the opposite way.

Because neither the fierce North waiting for him nor Vlad, who had placed a leash on him through a mystery, were options Radu wanted to choose.

"......!"

However, walking alone down the dark alley, Radu suddenly came to a halt.

Because his nape, which had suddenly gone cold, was sending him a powerful warning.

"This is?"

The subject of the warning recognized through instinct.

With the goosebumps creeping up the back of his neck, Radu felt as if he could sense the air of that damp basement where his blood used to be sucked.

"Father?"

At the end of Radu's urgent gaze was the only city gate in Namarca.

The sight of the flag approaching it from outside the city walls was an object of awe for Radu, as well as an object of terror.

* * *

CLASH! CRASH! CLASH!

"Keugh!"

Crimson sparks flew every time the two swords clashed.

Every time those sparks scattered, Mircea unconsciously let out a scream-like groan.

'... The power of the fragment!'

Even after Mircea opened his iridescent world, Vlad's momentum had not weakened in the slightest.

On the contrary, as time passed, a distinctly recognizable draconic aura was coalescing on the tip of Vlad's burning sword.

CLAAANG!

Along with the vicious sound of metal, Mircea's body heavily staggered once again.

It was due to Vlad's physical strength, which he could no longer handle, and also due to the fragment's presence, which grew increasingly overwhelming the more they clashed.

"... What did you do to the fragment? It wasn't originally this kind of existence."

"How the hell should I know!"

Despite being the one wielding the dragon's fragment, Vlad didn't know the specific details either.

However, if Mircea had recognized the true nature of the true silver coating Vlad's sword, he wouldn't have had to ask that question.

'This is getting more disadvantageous as time passes.'

An honorable metal that revealed the right path because it was righteous and true.

Unable to receive the fragment's influence due to the metal coating Vlad's sword, Mircea felt a sense of crisis at Vlad's momentum, which was only growing stronger over time.

"I don't know the cause, but you've prepared quite a lot."

And so, a world rising once again from his deeply closed left eye.

Mircea's jewel-lit world, which he never revealed against an easy opponent, began to push back the golden line Vlad had drawn.

"I'll end this quickly."

Seeing Mircea's flawlessly revealed world, Vlad's mouth gaped open for a moment.

Because it was the kind of world that he, who had been rolling in the mud all his life, could never possess.

"Why do you get to decide that?"

But that was exactly why he didn't want to lose even more.

To this world of Mircea's that tried to look down on him as it pleased.

Gritting his teeth, Vlad began to fiercely resist the repulsive force of Mircea, who was trying hard to push him away.

That greedy stance, trying never to let go of the momentum he had seized, stemmed from his innate instincts as well as the teachings his masters had instilled in him thus far.

"Didn't you say earlier that you hated dragon's blood?"

"I'd be a dumbass not to use it just because I hate it."

He hated his innate dragon's blood, but using it couldn't be helped.

Because up until now, Vlad was someone who had grown up in a place where he couldn't survive unless he reached out with all his might.

"I don't want to be the kind of guy who dies while trying to act cool."

GRIIIND-

Watching his sword tip steadily being pushed back, Mircea began to grit his teeth once again.

Because he was only now truly feeling Vlad's desperate tenacity to swing whatever was in his hands.

"I have to use this inherited blood to my heart's content to vent my anger!"

CLAAAAANG-!

Looking into Mircea's blue eyes that resembled his own, Vlad spat out coarse curses.

Because he felt like he absolutely couldn't endure without spitting this rage boiling in his chest out into the world.

"......!"

"......!"

CLANG! CLANG! CLAAANG!

And so, a continuous series of strikes with neither yielding a single inch.

The back alleys of Namarca began to howl at the fierce clashes between the two, who engaged without even a moment to breathe.

Due to the intense wind pressure constantly being generated, the surrounding buildings were slashed and caved in, kicking up massive clouds of dust.

'I have to aim for an opening!'

Within that thick dust, Mircea's eyes were shining.

Even now, the momentum trying to dig into him was ferocious, but Vlad's stance showed just as many openings.

"... One strike is all I need. Just one strike."

The dark gray pauldron, which he kept thrusting forward with brute strength, was already full of sword marks, yet Vlad's advance, determined to push in even a single step further, did not cease.

As if this was the only way left to break through Mircea's solid defense, a pitch-black madness now seemed to peek through Vlad's two eyes.

"Huuuup!"

That was why he had to cut him down now.

Because if he yielded any more momentum to his opponent, it would be irreversible.

Slipped into the opening Vlad showed, Mircea's sword began to draw a sharp arc.

Thanks to that, the flow of the momentum Vlad was riding was cut off, but Vlad's eyes, which had been glaring wildly just moments ago, returned to their usual color as if they had never changed.

"I knew you would do that."

"What?"

A battle of swords was decided by distance.

However, unlike Mircea who was stepping back, Vlad, who had designed this scenario through his reckless advance, merely shrank his body rapidly for the next strike.

Vlad's stance, drastically lowered along with his fluttering cape.

Seeing that stance flow seamlessly like water as if he had predicted it, Mircea was able to realize that he had been played.

'Damn it!'

The smoke spread in the middle of the alley flocked to the tip of Vlad's sword, ultimately forming a single condensed circle.

It was a circle as small as a dot, but Mircea was certain that a massive world would soon erupt from its tip.

"I fell short back then, but today, I will surpass you."

Vlad's eyes looking at Mircea shone blue.

But since this moment, where it felt as if the world had stopped, had been entirely earned by Vlad, Mircea had no choice but to simply accept it.

"And someday, even Dragulia."

No sound came from the single thrust executed through that gathered circle.

However, Mircea could sense that the silence he felt now was like the calm before a storm.

CRAAASH-!

In an instant, riding the golden horizon Vlad drew, the Luga tribe's mystery burst forth.

Unable to dare react to the sharp whirlwind that arrived faster than sound, red blood began to form all over Mircea's body.

"Vlad!"

Against the whirlwind blowing as if to tear him apart, Mircea finally managed to open his Deep World.

But even if the facets of that world, well-carved by someone, were certainly splendid and perfect, to the Vlad facing it, it was nothing more than a wall that had to be shattered.

"Haaah!"

The dragon that had unleashed the leash called instinct was charging toward the wall blocking his path.

Not swayed by innate desires, that dragon, capable of reaching anywhere, was currently looking down at a single sparkling jewel beneath him alongside the wind he tread upon.

CLAAAANG-!

The sharp sound of sword meeting sword that shook the city.

Vlad's storm, starting with that sound, began to envelop Mircea's entire body.

Because it was a wall he had to prove himself against, the merciless tip of Vlad's sword drove ruthlessly toward Mircea.

* * *

"......"

It looked as if a storm had just raged through.

Because all the buildings that had originally been next to the standing Vlad were laid flat.

"Who's there."

However, the tautly pulled tip of Vlad's sword had still not reached Mircea.

Because there was a sparkling sword blocking that tip.

At the heavy, immovable weight that wouldn't budge no matter how hard he pushed, a cold sweat had already formed on the small of Vlad's back.

"Who are you."

It had definitely been a strike that drew upon his entire world with all his might.

Yet the other sword facing it seemed placid without the slightest quiver.

That meant exactly the gap between Vlad and the owner of this sword.

"I finally get to see you. My son."

With those words, sword and sword were lightly lifted as if instructing swordsmanship.

Vlad's head, forced up along with his lifted sword, was already facing the eyes of the man in front of him.

"I have really wanted to see you all this time."

Blond hair and blue eyes.

But those colors were much deeper than his own.

Looking at the man before him, Vlad fell into the illusion that he was staring down into a dizzying abyss, simply from the depth of the colors he possessed.

["Run away right now! Vlad!"]

Along with Quijano's sharp warning, the sword he held was crying.

Because it recognized the fragment harbored by the man in front of him.

But unlike Vlad's, the fragment he harbored had already lost its form and was completely melted into his flowing blood vessels.

"Dragon......blood Duke."

My father, whom I could recognize even without anyone telling me.

"... Sarnus."

The name his racing heart pointed to was undoubtedly the Dragonblood Duke, Sarnus Dragulia.

Watching his son murmur his name, Sarnus nodded as if confirming it and sheathed his sword.

"That's right. I am indeed Sarnus Dragulia."

He had sheathed his sword, but his presence didn't diminish at all.

Even now, Quijano inside him was screaming to run away, but looking at Sarnus, who seemed impossibly towering no matter how much he looked up, Vlad didn't even dare think of turning his back.

"Yes. How about we go home and share our past stories?"

Behind the benevolent smile directed at Vlad, a multitude of Dragulia flags filed in.

Seeing an army that was far too large to merely conquer a shabby city, Vlad's two feet remained frozen, unable to move.

["Vlad-!"]

The world known as Sarnus, which only grew more massive the more he looked up at it.

Stepping in for its knight, who had been overwhelmed because he originated from his blood, Vlad's right eye began to close.