The Dragon Knight (Side Story)

Over a hundred years ago, in the Dragon Cliff dungeon.

As the most resource-rich dungeon in the Empire, it saw batches of demonkind adventurers descend by rope every day, crossing the inverted pit to enter it.

Dragons did indeed dwell atop Dragon Cliff, but dragons were not diligent creatures.

As long as their kobold servants brought offerings of food on schedule, most dragons could not be bothered to leave their nests. Even when one came out to stretch, it would only circle Dragon Cliff once, or pick a fight with another dragon.

Even if a dragon felt the urge to hunt for itself, it generally would not head toward the dungeon entrance.

After all, the dragon-beast packs near the entrance had long since been hunted to scraps by adventurers, and the adventurers themselves were not even enough to fill a dragon's teeth. Flying over here was pure effort for no reward.

And so the death rate for adventuring into Dragon Cliff was actually not that high.

The flip side, of course, was that if one had the rotten luck to run into a dragon, the hope of escape was pitifully slim.

At this moment, near the mouth of the deep pit, a group of blood-scions whose robes were embroidered with the Visarius family crest were holding back the adventurers passing through.

In the midst of the blood-scions, Visarius's deputy Ern was attending to a human.

This naturally drew the eyes of many adventurers, but none dared step forward to ask what was going on.

"Master, thanks to you, this year's blood-kin banquet was a tremendous success." Ern gave a slight bow. "Before my lord departed, he expressly instructed us to meet the requests of an artist of your caliber as best we could."

"It's just..." Ern's face showed his unease, and he confirmed it with some confusion. "You truly don't want any guards, and mean to enter the dungeon entirely alone? This really is far too dangerous."

Ern was putting it gently. In truth he felt it was no different from courting death, for the master before him had no combat ability to speak of.

But the man politely declined once again.

"Lord Ern, there's no need."

"I know they are brave and dutiful warriors. They have proven as much several times along the way."

"But against a dragon, they could not protect me anyway."

"That being so, better to let me go alone. Perhaps, seeing that I pose no threat at all, the dragons might leave me unharmed instead."

"Please convey my thanks to the prince," the man said at last.

Hearing this, Ern understood that the man was dead set on observing the legendary dragons up close to find inspiration.

Though Ern still felt the man was going to his death, since it was his own request, Ern was in no position to forcibly stop him.

He could only sigh inwardly and think: perhaps the minds of geniuses simply worked this differently from everyone else's.

...

Atop Dragon Cliff.

Da Long slowly descended, carefully easing the fold of his wings so as to kick up as little dust as possible.

He walked to the side of the ancient dragon Silvia's head and lowered his own. In his golden eyes were reflected the dragon-scales on her body, which had lost their luster.

"Mother," he said, his voice soft and full of worry, "this clutch of eggs... only one hatched. The rest were stillborn. Worse than the last clutch."

"Mm. I see." Silvia did not even lift her eyelids. She gave only a faint acknowledgment and said nothing more.

Da Long watched her in silence, his claws unconsciously tightening on the rock beneath him.

In truth, Da Long did not care whether the dragons' numbers could grow. What he cared about was Silvia's condition.

Over the past few decades, Silvia's spirits had grown worse and worse. She slept for longer and longer, and even when awake she was listless.

The eggs that periodically formed near her were stillborn at an ever-rising rate. To Da Long, it was like a countdown on Silvia's life.

And against the moment that would inevitably come, there was nothing he could do.

Da Long abruptly spread his wings and beat them, surging into the air, and the few dragons nearby hurriedly cleared away.

The great black shadow tore up from the ground, picked a direction at random, and vanished beyond the horizon in the blink of an eye.

A stifling rage burned in his chest. Right now Da Long wanted only to breathe dragonfire and destroy something, anything.

But before he could act on it, an unusual sight in the distance caught his attention.

The dragon-beasts had surrounded an outsider again. Strangely, for some reason they had not attacked.

Only when Da Long flew closer did he hear the music the man was playing.

Gentle and lilting, it carried a certain calming charm.

Even the stifling feeling in Da Long's chest eased by half before he knew it.

Mother might like this.

At the thought, Da Long dropped from the sky. Even without unleashing his [Dragon Presence], the dragon-beasts scattered in fright. In moments, only Da Long and the human were left.

Just as Da Long was pondering how to carry this fragile little bug to Dragon Cliff in one piece, the outsider, whom he had expected to be quaking with terror, even wetting himself, actually pressed forward of his own accord, his face full of excitement.

Seeing the outsider's trembling hand about to touch his black scales, Da Long unleashed his [Dragon Presence].

The man was forced to his knees by the pressure, but when he raised his head, what burned in his eyes was not fear, but an even fiercer exhilaration.

"Dragon Presence! A real dragon! That size! Those scales! It's... it's magnificent!"

Da Long tilted his head slightly, a little surprised. Not at the man's reaction, but because what he spoke was Draconic.

"You speak Draconic?" Da Long tried asking.

The man nodded furiously, his voice shaking with excitement, yet his words were clear and his pronunciation precise.

There were traces of magic about his mouth, helping him produce certain syllables no non-dragon could.

"Great dragon, yes, I went and studied Draconic on purpose!"

Da Long looked down at this tiny creature and felt a flicker of interest.

"Outsider, what is your name?"

"Reed!"

Reed seemed rather disappointed by the lack of reaction, but Da Long did not care about his feelings.

He brought Reed before his mother.

Reed gazed up in disbelief at the ancient dragon's body, countless times larger than an ordinary dragon's, so awestruck he was nearly speechless. It took a flick of Da Long's claw, which sent him tumbling a dozen times, before he finally came back to himself, still murmuring "beautiful" under his breath.

What followed went just as Da Long had expected.

When Reed took up the instrument he called a lute, the moving melody wound around the peak of Dragon Cliff. The listless Silvia, for the first time ever, opened her eyes wide and fixed them on the playing Reed, a faint light stirring within them.

Until the song came to an end.

Silvia spoke slowly. "What a wonderful melody... It reminds me of things from long ago. Human, can you play another?"

Reed excitedly straightened the lapels that Silvia's breath had blown askew, then bowed gracefully. "Of course, beautiful lady. It would be my honor."

The second piece was utterly different in style, yet just as moving.

This time, he also sang the lovely lyrics in Draconic.

The low, lilting syllables echoed across the clifftop, until even the wind seemed to slow its pace.

Before anyone realized it, the nearby dragons had gathered as well, and even Da Long could not help being drawn in.

That day, Silvia spoke more than she had in the past half-year combined.

...

Reed was kept atop Dragon Cliff.

With his playing and his singing, Silvia's spirits improved markedly.

Sometimes, even without any music, Silvia would chat with Reed about the world outside.

Da Long was glad that it had been he who met Reed that day, and not some other dragon who would have breathed fire at the man without a second thought.

The eggs' survival rate was still falling, but watching the lines of his mother's brow gradually ease, Da Long could finally close his eyes in peace and sleep a long sleep he had not had in ages.

A few years was no more than the span of a single slumber in a dragon's life.

When Da Long woke, Reed's music was as beautiful as ever, the notes flowing like a stream through every corner of the clifftop.

And Silvia... she had nearly recovered the radiance of a hundred years ago. Sometimes she would even take human form and fly down from Dragon Cliff with Reed, strolling by the valleys and streams below. Only, Reed did not seem to much like it when Silvia took human form.

As Silvia grew livelier, Da Long was naturally happy too.

Yet for some reason, he had a vague sense that something was off, though he could not say what.

Dragons were always slow to feel the passing of time. Year after year, Reed's hair went from grey to white, and his straight back grew stooped.

When Da Long opened his eyes from another long sleep, Reed was already dead.

There was no helping it. The lifespan of these little bugs was nothing at all compared to a dragon's.

At Reed's death, Da Long felt no grief, only a touch of regret. He was not saddened. He was only sorry.

He lay on the clifftop, staring at Reed's withered, bony remains, his mind already calculating where to find another bard like him to please his mother.

What Da Long had not anticipated, however, was that Silvia, whose spirits had once again grown frail, handed him a dull, witless half-human, half-dragon child and asked him to help protect the fragile hatchling.

Only then did Da Long finally understand where that thread of wrongness had come from.

...

Raising a hatchling was no hard task for Da Long. He had a capable band of kobold servants in his lair who handled the feeding, cleaning, and care perfectly well.

Soon, Da Long discovered that this hatchling was absurdly weak.

Dragon whelps of the same age could already chase dragon-beasts around the foot of the mountain, yet this little half-human, half-dragon thing could not even beat a slightly fiercer dragon-beast. A moment's inattention and it might be snatched away instead.

Lacking strength was one thing. More pitiful still, it lacked intelligence too.

Years passed and she still wore the same blank look, stammering in Draconic, unable to string together even one complete sentence.

For this, she suffered no end of bullying from the other dragons.

Useless.

That was Da Long's assessment of her.

And yet, it was this very useless thing that would drag Da Long's heart into the abyss.

Silvia's waking moments grew fewer and fewer, and each time she woke, she would have Da Long bring the little one to her.

The little one liked shiny things, so Silvia dug gemstones out from deep in the rock. The little one was a glutton who craved mana-rich food, so Silvia had the kobolds hunt the kind of dragon-beasts born able to cast magic and bring them to her mouth.

The way she looked at the little one was as gentle as a ray of sunlight slipping through a gap in the clouds.

Through her, Da Long learned for the first time what Silvia's love was like.

It was something he... had never once received.

A strange emotion took root in his heart.

And so, when the rift appeared nearby, Da Long watched the little one, who by then was called Svergis, follow the mana and slip into the rift, and he did not stop her.

And it was then, too, that Da Long saw Silvia's fury for the first time. The whole of Dragon Cliff trembled with it.

(End of Chapter)