Chapter 77 - There Is No Tree Without Roots (2)

A large lock, and sturdy chains.

Two chests, tightly sealed with magical formulae and even the church's blessings engraved upon them.

A man stood before those chests with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Report."

An elderly knight with silver hair nearly white.

His thick-grown beard and wildly bristling hair looked like a lion's mane.

"The Lindwurm subjugation was successful."

Behind the elderly knight, who was looking at the chests, Volkov stood at attention.

"Fortunately, Bayezid's knights finished it, so we were able to avoid giving the dragon killer knights any justification."

"And him?"

It was a small voice, yet it carried a resonance that seemed to shake every direction.

The man had reached a level where he could put powerful force into his voice alone.

"Mircea, Captain of the dragon killer knights, has left the North. Bayezid's knights watched him until the final moment of his departure."

"I see."

After hearing Volkov's report, the man nodded and looked at the chests before him.

Until only a few days ago, they had resonated with each other and spread a dragon's presence, yet now they were merely silent, as if fallen asleep.

"Then there is no longer any reason for these things to run wild."

The white dragon Lindwurm was dead, and Mircea, Captain of the dragon killer knights, had left the North.

That meant there was no longer any dragon in the North for these fragments to call.

For dragons who had realized their own potential no longer existed in the North.

"There may not be only one Lindwurm, Your Grace."

"True enough."

Timur Baranoff, the Iron Duke.

He agreed with the magician advising him at his side.

Even now, somewhere in the snowy fields of the North, there would be young dragons holding their breath.

And when the time came for them to regain their own potential, something like this might happen again.

"As expected, keeping two fragments in one place creates these problems."

The chest originally kept in the North.

And the western chest the priests had moved as if rescuing it when Romanov fell.

It had not mattered when they were far from each other, but once they were placed close together, such side effects had occurred.

"The fragments must be separated."

The two fragments that reacted to each other had to be set apart.

But who would take charge of this chest?

Because it required such a heavy duty and responsibility, it was not a matter he could decide by his own thoughts alone.

"Your Grace. I have something to tell you."

"Is there more to report?"

At Timur's words, Volkov quietly nodded.

"A new Dragon Slayer has been born."

There had been a boy who chased the white dragon across the snow-covered field.

He had not been the strongest, but the fastest boy had not missed the opportunity Volkov had made for him.

"His name?"

Timur's thick eyebrows twitched as he heard of this sudden new presence.

He had thought that in this generation of the Bayezid Family, only Rutiger was worthy of attention.

"He is a boy named Vlad. He is still only a squire, but the potential he possesses seemed very bright."

"A squire..."

After hearing Volkov's report, Timur stroked his chin and looked at the chests containing the dragon fragments.

"And a boy, at that."

A name he had never heard until now.

Whether they had hidden him away, or whether he had sprung up by his own strength, he could not know, but young things were always difficult to predict.

"Young ones grow quickly."

Because they were beings no one could know what they would become, or how they would turn out.

Time flowed, and generations changed.

Timur knew well that time was no longer on his side.

Before some new dragon somewhere realized its own potential, he had to move the dragon fragments far apart.

Because that was his task as a Guardian of the Pact.

* * *

Vlad set down his tray and looked around.

The squires' dining hall, which he had not visited in a long time.

Nothing in particular seemed to have changed, but he could at least tell that the gazes of the squires eating with him now were fixed on his sword.

"Nothing happened while I was gone?"

"Nothing happened. At least not to me."

Facing Vlad after so long, Portly smiled softly.

Perhaps because he was no longer being bullied, even his plump face seemed to have a shine to it.

"If you have something to say, say it."

"... Can I ask?"

Portly hesitated for a moment as he looked at Vlad, who was bringing his spoon to the soup.

Though his living situation seemed to have improved greatly, it appeared he still had not fixed his naturally timid personality.

"One sausage per question."

"But that sword, did Lord Rutiger really give it to you?"

Portly spoke as if there was no need to think over Vlad's offer at all.

At Portly's response, Vlad frowned, wondering if he had made the deal too easily.

"... That's what you're curious about?"

"I bet I'm not the only one. Everyone's probably curious."

Along with Portly's words, Vlad felt the surroundings go quiet in an instant.

Most likely, everyone had wanted to ask.

Whether the sword the boy was now wearing had truly been given to him by Rutiger.

"The one I had before broke during the mission. Of course I had to receive one."

To catch the Lindwurm, the boy had done his very best, and in the process, he had ended up breaking his own sword.

And as the person in charge of the party, Rutiger had a responsibility to compensate him for it.

"That's amazing."

Vlad said it plainly, as though it was nothing, but Portly and the squires around them who were listening nodded with their eyes shining.

"What is?"

"He's the strongest candidate to be the next Family Head. Receiving a sword from someone like that is definitely something special."

The people around him did not think of Vlad receiving Rutiger's sword as merely compensation.

Because that sword meant Rutiger had acknowledged the boy, and it was also proof that he had vouched for him.

"Maybe he gave you a choice?"

"... That's enough."

A boy who was Joseph's squire, yet acknowledged by Rutiger.

To others, Vlad would surely seem to be standing amid complicated currents.

Vlad did not like that the people around him were freely imagining things about him.

"I owe Lord Joseph something."

"... If I offended you, I'm sorry."

Thinking of the past, Vlad quietly tore off a piece of bread and soaked it in the soup.

There had been a time when this action now, which seemed like nothing special, had been his lifelong dream.

Even if his present self seemed to shine, Vlad had not forgotten where he belonged.

The reason he had been able to take root in Bayezid, rather than in the filthy mire of the back alleys, was only because a man named Joseph had recognized the boy.

Vlad had a duty to repay that with loyalty.

Because that was what he wanted to do.

"But do you know this?"

Noticing that Vlad's complexion had become quite uncomfortable, Portly quickly changed the subject.

"What?"

Recognizing Portly's effort, Vlad lifted his head and looked at the squire wearing an awkward expression.

If it had been someone else, he would have coldly ignored them, but Vlad owed Portly and the Kannor Family a number of things.

For one, Gregory himself was a man who shared blood with Portly before his eyes.

"They say all of Bayezid's knights are gathering here now."

"All of them?"

At Vlad's reaction, his eyes widening in interest, Portly seemed relieved as he picked up his spoon and said,

"At least it looks like everyone nearby is gathering."

"Why all of a sudden?"

"I don't know either."

Sturma was the capital city of the Bayezid Family.

In a way, it was only natural for knights to gather in such a place, but listening to Portly's words, there was definitely something strange about it.

"They say even the knights who were on missions are all gathering. According to rumor, the Count himself summoned them. Have you heard anything?"

Portly thought Vlad, who had been active outside, would be more sensitive to rumors than he was, having stayed within Sturma the whole time.

"No."

But Vlad, too, could not get any sense of why the knights were suddenly being summoned.

Knights were symbols of military might.

If such people were gathering, perhaps another threat like the Lindwurm was approaching.

"We'll find out once time passes."

There was no need to be anxious in advance over what was to come.

Because the boy was ready to draw his sword at any time.

The sound of utensils quietly rang through the dining hall.

As they listened to that sound, the squires quietly watched Vlad's mood.

Vlad did not know it, but the squires who had seen the boy after so long could tell.

The blond boy who had been a squire alongside them was now somewhere so far away that they could hardly look at him.

The presence dwelling in each action, each look in his eyes, proved it.

The boy had grown far too large to remain in the position of a squire any longer.

Only the boy focused solely on his soup had not noticed it.

* * *

"I intend to end my pilgrimage now."

"Have you decided?"

The Family Head's office.

Lamund set down the teacup before him and continued speaking.

"It was a choice I wanted, but it was truly an arduous time."

"... I understand."

With those words, Peter looked at the coin placed beside Lamund's teacup.

The coin, so shabby and old that it had even rusted red, looked like an object that would not be welcomed even if handed to someone.

"Then do you intend to give the last ducat to that boy named Vlad?"

"He has the qualifications."

Lamund nodded at Peter's words and answered.

From the intensity of their first meeting to this subjugation of the Lindwurm.

The old knight, who had watched Vlad from right beside him, was certain the boy had more than enough qualification to receive this coin.

"Since he has received the price of honor, that child named Vlad will have a heavy burden on his shoulders."

"That is why I am doing it."

Lamund leaned deeply back against the chair as if a weight had finally been lifted, then let out a sigh.

"As a knight, and as a vassal of Bayezid, I feel relieved, as though I have completed all my duties."

"You have worked hard."

Peter was a noble aristocrat, and also the Family Head of the Bayezid Family, but he did not hesitate to bow his head deeply toward Lamund before him, showing his respect.

The old knight who had fulfilled his duty and honor would now be able to truly retire.

It was the kind of ending every knight dreamed of.

"Still, please stay a few more days before you leave."

"Is something going on?"

At Peter's words, Lamund wore a puzzled expression for a moment.

The Peter he knew was not a man who regretted partings.

"If someone retires, should someone else not newly appear?"

At Peter's words, Lamund tilted his head for a moment, then struck his knee with his palm as if he had realized what he meant.

"So the Family Head has acknowledged him as well."

"Though I do think the timing is a bit early."

It had only been one year since the boy came here.

And in Bayezid's history, there had never been a squire acknowledged in just one year.