#010

The Dragon spoke.

“I have no name.”

At that moment, Cullen felt the Dragon was less than a commoner. Even though it was the most powerful being in the world. His words were undoubtedly correct. Since there was only one Dragon in the world, it wouldn’t be strange if that word itself was the Dragon.

However, Cullen was disgusted that those who had enjoyed wealth and status through the Dragon’s power for all these years had not even bothered to give it a name.

For 1500 years, no one had done so.

This book was no different from a guide on how to tame livestock. Seeing the rules that treated it strictly as a tool, Cullen realized that those who inherited the goddess’s blood were no different from nobles.

What on earth happened after that?

The last part of the book, which was not torn, clearly stated that Carias Larkan had intended to keep his promise with the Dragon. According to the first ancestor’s words, the Dragon should have been released long ago to find another Dragon. Why, then, was the Dragon bound to the Imperial Palace?

Even the so-called noble royalty are ultimately this much.

Cullen had lived his entire life as a commoner. To nobles, commoners were like livestock.

The Empire strictly prohibits the mistreatment of underage commoners, but after they become adults, their labor and strength are used without hesitation. Commoners who commit crimes against nobles die regardless of age.

The Empire of the distant past was known to be fair and just, with high-ranking nobles taking responsibility for the welfare of their people. However, much has changed with the passage of time.

Especially after the Duchy of Jenix incident, the nobles merely stood by as commoners in the borderlands were annihilated by Demonic Beasts. It was precisely for this reason that mercenaries experienced a rapid boom. The commoners had to pool their money to hire mercenaries and protect themselves.

Furthermore, starting thirty years ago, Demonic Beasts began to appear, including trolls whose bodies had doubled in size, and even creatures that seemed like a mix of various species.

Cullen’s mercenary band was annihilated by such Demonic Beasts. The horrific memory that suddenly surfaced caused him to close the book. His stomach churned.

Gritting his teeth and pushing his hair back, he decided to leave the library for now. He had to escape this unsettling space. The layers of old desires and greed felt like they were suffocating him.

Emerging outside, Cullen instinctively walked towards the castle walls. Despite having only been here a few days, the place felt stifling.

He loosened the buttons of his stiff silk shirt, which felt like it was choking him, and wandered aimlessly. A vast garden unfolded before him. Even under the open sky, the Imperial Palace garden was artificial and static, unlike a Dragon’s dwelling. The touch of human hands was clearly felt.

Only when he reached the area where tall trees stood did Cullen stop. He felt a little better.

He slowly surveyed his surroundings. There was something he had never seen before. Hidden among the trees was a glass garden, which at first glance seemed to be enclosed by a transparent membrane.

Is that a greenhouse?

He had only heard of greenhouses from merchants; they were devices owned by wealthy nobles in the capital, capable of growing fruits and flowers from other seasons even in winter.

He recalled being told that the glass itself was incredibly expensive, and the Magic required to maintain a warm interior would cost astronomical sums, making it something only a Duke could possess.

His mood grew even lower. As Cullen was about to pass the greenhouse, he paused. Someone was inside the seemingly empty structure. He saw flowing golden hair.

It was the Dragon.

Forgetting his intention to leave, Cullen found himself walking towards the greenhouse. The Dragon was hunched over, its back turned. He approached slowly and opened the door silently. A warmth, distinctly different from the outside, touched his cheek.

“…You found me surprisingly well.”

Even though he had suppressed his presence, the Dragon spoke to him naturally. It did not turn around. Cullen saw its white feet standing on the soil.

“I was on my way and you were here.”

“Yes.”

Unlike their first meeting, when the Dragon’s voice had been sharp, it was now merely dry. It was certainly not a welcoming voice, but it lacked the hostility from that day. It just sounded tired.

Cullen slowly approached it. He didn’t forget to watch his step. Fortunately, there were no eggs on the ground.

The Dragon did not lift its head even as he came within arm’s reach. Instead, it slowly knelt on the soil. Cullen finally realized the Dragon was trying to bury something.

A small bird with golden feathers lay on the ground. The palm-sized bird had a beautiful red crest on its head. It was a bird he had never seen before.

“A creature that lives only at the southern tip of the island was brought here by a human.”

The Dragon spoke thus, and began to dig the ground with its white hands. Then, with both hands, it carefully laid the bird in the round hole. Its touch was gentle.

“No matter how much you replicate its home, it is still a captive.”

The Dragon lowered its head. Its long golden hair cascaded down.

“When did it die?”

Cullen slowly sat down. He had never disliked animals. If anything, like the Dragon, he preferred animals to humans. After losing Roach, he had tried not to pay attention to them, but…

“The wind told me yesterday.”

The Dragon’s profile was finally visible. Its finely curled eyelashes blinked slowly.

It looked sad.

No, it was undeniably grieving.

The moment he saw that, a corner of his heart felt uneasy.

A thought struck him. That this bird was no different from the Dragon. What was it that bound such a powerful being, incomparable to this small life, to remain here?

“When was the last time you went outside the palace?”

A question that had no business being asked slipped out. The Dragon slowly turned its head. Its blue eyes under the sun looked different from how they did at night. They were like the sky.

“Was it 39 years ago?”

“You seem to have explored the Imperial Palace a bit.”

The Dragon said so and turned its head back again. It began to cover the hole with soil. The soil rustled, hiding the golden feathers.

“Yes. I cannot leave, except when I kill humans.”

The Dragon, whom he had expected not to answer, spoke. The unexpected reply kept bothering him. Instead of leaving, Cullen continued,

“Wouldn’t it be better to bury it outside?”

“It felt the cold intensely, so this place is better. Eventually, it will crumble and mix with the earth.”

Their gazes met. The Dragon, having turned its face completely, stared intently at Cullen. Seen again, its face was excessively beautiful. Did his mother like this face? What was their relationship?

“I looked into you.”

The Dragon twisted one corner of its mouth dryly.

“Were you satisfied?”

“There wasn’t much information.”

“It’s nothing special.”

It spoke with a voice tinged with weariness. Cullen, by instinct, averted his gaze that was about to fixate on the Dragon’s face and looked around. There were many trees bearing fruit.

“Did this bird have a name?”

The Dragon looked puzzled. It squinted one eye slightly. Even that was beautiful.

“Why would it need a name?”

Cullen was momentarily speechless, as it was something he took for granted. He was at a loss for words.

“The moment it gets a name, doesn’t it become a little more special?”

“That was not what this child wanted. Even if someone gave it a name, it wouldn’t understand.”

“But it would have known that you cared for it.”

The Dragon’s expression became strange.

“Then, do you know what food it liked here?”

The Dragon, who had been quietly observing Cullen, spoke slowly.

“…It liked the cherry apricots over there.”

Cullen approached the tree the Dragon’s gaze indicated and carefully picked some cherry apricots. Then, he returned to the Dragon’s side. The Dragon looked at him with an uncomprehending expression.

“When I buried my dog, I buried its favorite things with it.”

He dug a little into the firmly packed soil and buried the small fruit next to the bird’s wing. The Dragon’s white hand still rested on the ground. Carefully avoiding the white fingers, Cullen covered the soil.

“I thought it might be less lonely that way.”

Even as he said it, Cullen himself couldn’t understand why he was telling this story.

“That too is a meaningless act. The dead know nothing.”

A bird that lived and died alone in the greenhouse, a Dragon that had spent a long time without anyone to talk to. These sentences felt lonely.

“Yes.”

His fingers, which had been moving over the soil, brushed against the Dragon’s. Cullen flinched and slowly pulled his hand back. The sensation at the tips of his ring fingers, where they had briefly touched, was strange. The faint warmth of body heat was comforting.

“In the end, it is for my own satisfaction.”

Cullen, who had been staring at the soil where nothing was visible, raised his head. The Dragon was watching him without even blinking.

“I was mistaken.”

“About what?”

“Please forget about the matter of the transaction.”

Cullen recalled the stories he had read in the library. The Dragon had no reason to like humans. He didn’t know what had entangled him with his mother, but Cullen believed it was impossible for him to be welcomed.

“It is best that I handle my own affairs.”

When had he ever received help from someone else?

Cullen admitted his error. He had lived alone until now. It would be ridiculous to collaborate with others now. The Dragon would undoubtedly be an unprecedented ally, and would know more than anyone, but the balance was off.

He did not want to be indebted. What he could offer was too little. Moreover, there was no guarantee he could fulfill what the Dragon desired.

“Sigmund warned you, didn’t he?”

The Dragon’s expression sharpened. Cullen calmly shook his head.

“I do not know the Emperor well. It is your freedom to believe what you wish, but I am different from the people here.”

Cullen had never been a noble being.

“My family are commoners. The mother you know was an ordinary person to me. I may have Larkan’s blood, but I am not royalty.”

The Dragon closed its mouth. It scrutinized Cullen with furrowed brows, like a wary beast. Though they bore no resemblance, Cullen suddenly missed his only Wolfdog.

This is not good. Being with the Dragon, buried emotions are slowly surfacing. Without him even knowing why.

“I will not bother you further.”

Cullen realized he had been affected by his encounter with the Dragon more than he thought. He had to cut ties.

“Humans…”

The Dragon slowly stood up. Soil fell naturally from its white robe. A long shadow fell over Cullen.

“Are sometimes unpredictable.”

With a face whose thoughts were impossible to fathom, it looked down at Cullen for a long time before turning away. Without any farewell or further words, the Dragon left the greenhouse. A cold wind peeked into the glass greenhouse and then disappeared.

Cullen quietly touched the soil where the bird was buried. The temperature of the soil rising through his palm was warm.

After patting the soil for a while, he stood up. His thoughts were settled. It was better to find clues on his own than to cling to things he couldn’t control.

He should investigate the location of the accident and the magic on the carriage, and probe the nobles about his mother’s situation at the time. Once there was nothing more to find in the palace, he would leave quickly.

Today was the last time he would see the Dragon, he thought.