#005

“Are you asking where the Dragon is, Prince?”

The maid’s face was clearly flustered, as if the question had come out of nowhere. The brown-haired woman with a scattering of freckles on her cheeks looked young enough to have just reached adulthood, with traces of youthfulness showing.

Prince.

Mulling over the unfamiliar title, Cullen surveyed his current situation. First, he had been guided into a room that seemed to be a confinement, excessively wasteful of space for a single human.

When he left the Emperor’s bedchamber, he met someone named Count Cliff. The man with brown hair and glasses was shorter than Cullen, but appeared to be around the same age.

“Please forgive the rudeness of welcoming you, Prince, so belatedly.”

Unlike Lenon, Cliff was friendly towards Cullen. Perhaps word had spread, as his title had changed from ‘Lord Cullen’ to ‘Prince’.

However, he was not addressed as ‘Crown Prince,’ which signifies the first heir. It seemed to be a time for cautious observation. This was also good for Cullen. As he had told the Emperor, he had no desire to become Emperor.

But a clear reason for him to remain in the palace as a Prince had emerged.

The Emperor’s words were useful. While there was no reason to trust him completely, the given clues needed to be verified. Cullen had to meet the Dragon, and to do that, he first had to stay in the palace.

Despite Cullen’s cool demeanor, Count Cliff showed no signs of displeasure and explained many things proactively. He told Cullen to rest to relieve his fatigue today and also explained the schedule for the next few days.

Once everything was prepared, Cullen would meet the ‘Ciel Elders,’ who dealt exclusively with matters of the Larkan royal family, ten days later. It seemed that the council of ministers would convene there.

Thus, Cullen was led to a room equipped with a luxurious water facility and bathroom, unlike anything he had seen before. After firmly refusing those who offered to assist with his bath, and dismissing the tailors as well as those who disguised their probing as service, he was left alone in the room. His mind was a mess.

From the time he searched for the attackers who had vanished without a trace, he had been certain that this was no ordinary matter, but Cullen had now become entangled with a being he had never imagined.

However, it was fortunate. At least a clue had appeared.

Currently, the Dragon was the one most closely related to his mother’s death. And if the Dragon was his mother’s enemy, Cullen had to kill the Dragon.

Would the Dragon die?

Cullen briefly hypothesized with a placid expression. Of course, he didn’t know. He had never heard of it, and no one had ever attempted it. In fact, it would likely be impossible.

But everything is uncertain until you delve into it. He decided to act. And so, Cullen asked the maid who had just brought his dinner the question above.

“Yes.”

The maid turned pale at Cullen’s formal address. She hastily bowed her head and pleaded with him.

“P-please, drop the formal address.”

Cullen frowned slightly and ran a hand over his forehead. A few strands of hair, which were almost black when not catching the light, fell out of place.

“Yes, I am looking for the Dragon.”

Hearing the informal address, the maid cautiously raised her head. Her gaze dared not meet his as she quietly replied.

“The Dragon is in the forbidden palace to the north.”

“Have you ever seen the Dragon?”

“No, we only deliver food to the entrance of the palace. And even that is not frequent.”

That was enough. Cullen rose from his chair. The maid, who was about to place the food on the table, looked at him with a flustered expression.

“I will handle it myself. You may go.”

Meeting the Dragon was a priority over a meal.

The Imperial Palace, cloaked in darkness, was quiet. Only the patrolling guards made their presence known. It seemed that the lavish banquets often spoken of were not always held.

Cullen set off in the direction the maid had indicated. The dagger he always carried had been confiscated in the Emperor’s bedchamber, so he picked up his own longsword from his luggage instead.

While he would have to figure out the details gradually, he needed to understand the layout of the Imperial Palace just in case. It was best to know in advance how many exits there were, what the defenses were like, and where potential escape routes might be.

Cullen walked slowly, deliberately, towards the northern palace, the Dragon’s residence.

And he soon realized that the Imperial Palace’s palaces did not have as many standing guards as he expected. The number of guards was smaller than anticipated. They all seemed skilled, but it wouldn’t be difficult for someone to sneak in.

Could this, too, be a result of magic?

Cullen became genuinely curious about the Dragon. It was solely responsible for this vast space, impossibly so. The royal family was excessively dependent on the Dragon, yet they also harbored animosity towards it.

What kind of being could it be? Is it ferocious? It is related to my mother’s death and has killed tens of thousands of humans, so it’s safe to assume it’s ferocious. Even the Emperor said the Dragon was dangerous to the world.

But one thing bothered him. His mother used to tell legends about the Dragon with pity.

My mother was a wise woman. If the Dragon had intended to kill her, she would have noticed. Even if she hadn’t, if the Dragon were so ferocious, she wouldn’t have spoken of the legends with sadness.

Cullen wavered between the facts recorded in history and the memories he had of his mother.

For the first time in a long while, he felt an emotion other than boredom and weariness. It was the first time since losing Gale, who had raised him for half his life, and the mercenary band. He no longer wanted to feel anything, nor did he want to despair. So, he chose the simplest method. Not to form attachments.

It wasn’t difficult. One simply had to not be interested in anything. Not to get involved in useless matters, to focus only on what was relevant to his objective, and to not let anyone close.

Cullen followed the method he had chosen admirably. He didn’t need to impress anyone, nor did he pay attention to others. He only gathered the necessary information. He spent a long time alone like this. His heart was always calm.

Today… it was only because his mother was involved.

Suppressing his curiosity, which threatened to rise unnecessarily, Cullen decided to focus only on what he could see. All he needed to find out were the facts. If the Dragon was the beast that killed his mother, he would keep the promise he swore on his mother’s grave. He would kill the Dragon. Even if he died in the process.

As his thoughts continued, a giant shadow fell over Cullen’s face. Before him, he saw a palace that matched the maid’s description.

Unlike the other detached palaces of the Imperial Palace, it had a very peculiar shape. It was formed into a triangle by the sail of a ship and a flat deck. It looked like a ship on land. Of course, it was harder and whiter than one.

Like when entering the Emperor’s bedchamber, there was one door at the entrance of the white, triangular palace.

This building was clearly enormous, yet it seemed quite small for a Dragon to enter. Cullen concluded that the form of the Dragon described in historical records was exaggerated. It was plausible enough.

Everyone knew a Dragon lived in the Imperial Palace, but he heard only the Emperor had seen it directly. The possibility was high, as he hadn’t even seen its shadow.

Cullen approached the door. The door, sealed with solid rock, had a pattern drawn on it. It was the symbol of the Larciel Empire. A Dragon supporting a full moon. Its coiled wings and tail were pressed against the moon.

Cullen examined the door with a strangely unsettling feeling. There was no handle. He realized instinctively. This place would likely open by a similar principle to the Emperor’s bedchamber. As the Dragon’s touch reached throughout the Imperial Palace.

He reached out his arm. His palm touched the cold stone.

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Just as he thought, ‘Is this not it?’ That was the moment. A golden light began to spread. The light, which appeared faintly like firefly luminescence, soon spread brightly along the royal crest. Cullen withdrew his hand and stepped back. The stone door split open without a sound.

The first thing he felt was the fresh scent of trees and the chirping of insects.

The incomprehensible sight unfolded afterward. Inside, light streamed down. It was silver light cast by a large, round moon that seemed to swallow the sky.

How could moonlight enter a building surrounded by stone walls on all four sides?

Like someone entranced, Cullen stepped into the strange space. Soft earth scattered beneath his boots. Golden grass rustled and brushed against his feet. He carefully stepped over the plants he had never seen before, moving deeper inside. He was wary of any poisonous plants.

This vast triangular space was like a forest. It was filled with large trees. From fir trees that might be found in the north, to trees with large, broad leaves found on southern islands, and even fruit trees were mixed in here and there. It was all incomprehensible.

He headed towards the shadows cast by the moonlight. The cry of a nightjar was heard from somewhere and then disappeared.

Though he walked cautiously, the forest within the palace seemed to stretch endlessly. Finally, just as Cullen was about to turn to get a better look, a gust of wind blew from somewhere and pushed him back.

“……!”

He didn’t even have time to react. With a force and speed he had never experienced, he was pushed backward. His heart sank. He hadn’t sensed any presence. If it had been an enemy, he would have died without even knowing it.

Quickly regaining his balance, Cullen landed on the ground. He barely managed to grip the hilt of his longsword. He snapped his head up and scanned the surroundings with a menacing gaze as a voice drifted in.

More precisely, it came from the sky.

“Watch your step.”

It was a small but clear voice. The low tone that pierced his ears was soft, yet simultaneously carried a suitable weight. It seemed to carry a faint sense of hostility.

A shiver ran down his spine. Cullen slowly raised his head. A white robe fluttered in the air.

“There are things far more important than you.”

Following the voice, Cullen raised his gaze further.

The moon filled the sky. Golden hair, backlit by the silver light, was visible, and above it, the sky was clearly visible. This was true even though he was indoors.

Wind, which should not have been blowing, continued to flow from somewhere. Because of it, the opponent’s gold-threaded hair scattered finely.

It was the most dreamlike sight he had ever witnessed.

Transparent blue eyes gazed at Cullen calmly. The color was pale yet deep, like a spring that had just melted in early spring. Within them was the sun. A golden hue, no different from his hair, subtly ringed the pupils of his blue eyes. His appearance was not that of a human.

If not a god, who else could possess such an appearance?

Eyebrows, darker than his hair, were slightly raised. Below a nose that was prominent yet delicately shaped, lips moved. The face, breathtakingly beautiful, was expressionless.

After gazing at Cullen for a moment, the other party, confirming he wasn’t moving, slowly opened his mouth.

“Who gave you permission to enter here?”