Chapter 10: Back to Reality

Dragons.

These creatures hadn’t appeared in the mortal world for a very long time—in fact, to most of the intelligent races on the continent of Loren, dragons were beings caught somewhere between myth and reality. Everyone knew they existed, but hardly anyone would ever see a real, living dragon in their lifetime.

Except for the elves in the south—those mysterious, long-lived folk who prided themselves on being witnesses to history. Over the long history of the Elven Empire, there were records of dragons appearing once or twice.

A massive creature with deep blue scales and enormous wings soared across the sky, releasing deadly breath. The blazing column of fire, white-hot and crackling, was infused with ancient draconic magic—far more than mere flames. Wherever the fire swept, the earth erupted into roaring infernos that burned without fuel and spread relentlessly. After just a few breaths, the entire Cecil territory was engulfed in a sea of fire.

Once its devastating work was done, the dragon circled briefly, as if inspecting the damage, then spread its wings and vanished into the brightening clouds above.

Several deep breaths came from those nearby. Even Hetty and the others only dared to exhale fully now—if the dragon had lingered any longer, who knew who might have fainted from holding their breath.

“Dragon… dragon…” Rebecca clutched her staff tightly, whispering over and over, “Ancestors, I’ve seen a dragon…”

Gawain cleared his throat. “No need to say it—I saw it too.”

Rebecca snapped back to reality, glancing awkwardly at Gawain before turning her gaze toward the Cecil lands with a complicated expression.

After being ravaged by the magical tide and then scorched by dragonfire, this place was utterly ruined.

As for those monsters… though they had been a thorn in the side of the poorly trained Cecil guards, they were ultimately just low-level abominations. Under the dragon’s flames, nearly all had turned to ash. Even the few survivors would soon self-destruct in the drastically changed environment—it was only a matter of time.

“I always thought dragons only existed in legends,” Byron, the taciturn knight, finally spoke up. His three soldiers nearby were still struggling to stand, and though Byron was usually strict, he only frowned now instead of scolding them. “My lord, have you ever dealt with dragons before?”

“No,” Gawain shook his head. “Dragons are mysterious creatures. Even during the upheavals across half of Loren seven hundred years ago, they never intervened in mortal affairs.”

Though he said this, Gawain wasn’t overly shocked by the sight of the massive beast—he had seen dragons before through other means. During his days hanging in the sky, he had witnessed these creatures on the continent more than once. But dragons were indeed enigmatic. Even after countless millennia aloft, the dragons he’d seen were few and fragmented in memory, making it hard to discern their habits or traits.

Suddenly, a shadow flickered beside Gawain. He turned to see Amber standing behind him, the half-elf’s face still a little shaken.

“I saw a dragon!” Amber blurted excitedly. “My mom would never believe me—I saw a dragon! That big!”

“Alright, alright, everyone here saw it,” Gawain shot a glare at the timid, noisy thief. “Where were you just now?”

“Hiding in a crack between some rocks,” Amber puffed out her chest. “I’m great at running away!”

Gawain sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Mastery of shadow affinity, but your combat skills are barely better than a goose. And you’re proud of that?”

He shook his head. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s move on.”

He started down the hillside. Though the dragon had left, who knew what other strange things might appear? Leaving quickly was the best plan. Hetty cast a last, complicated glance at the ruined family lands.

“Ancestor… that dragon burned our territory.”

“He burned our ruins,” Gawain said, looking at Hetty. He had carefully observed the dragon’s breath attacks—they were mostly aimed at the densest clusters of monsters. Though sometimes the aim was off, the pattern was clear. “The Cecil lands were already lost before the dragon arrived.”

“But…”

“You want to argue with a dragon?” Gawain shrugged. “Let’s be practical. If we’re going to do anything, it’s to return to civilization as soon as possible and report both the monsters and the dragon.”

Hetty had no argument and nodded. Gawain understood her feelings—Cecil lands were her home, where she was born and raised. Even knowing the dragon was just burning the ruins and likely targeting monsters, it still felt like a slap in the face.

But understanding aside, Gawain found it hard to empathize—after all, he wasn’t even the progenitor of the Cecil family until he crawled out of that coffin…

With a jumble of emotions, the group left the area and faced a dense forest ahead.

Hetty raised her staff in one hand and traced shifting runes in the air with the other, then looked toward the woods. “We have to pass through this forest to reach the main road. It’s the only way to Tansang Town.”

Gawain watched the glowing runes in Hetty’s hand with a mix of curiosity and envy, though he tried to hide it. “Magic really is a handy thing…”

“Ancestor?” Hetty looked puzzled, then a bit anxious. “Did my skills upset you?”

Gawain blinked. “Why would I be upset?”

“The Cecil family has always stood on the strength of knights. Martial skill and horsemanship are the family’s true legacy. For someone like me or Rebecca to become mages… a hundred years ago, forget inheritance rights, we probably wouldn’t even be accepted in the family,” Hetty explained nervously. “But after that incident a century ago, the family’s status plummeted, the population dwindled, and those with supernatural powers became rare. So paths outside knighthood gained recognition… but it still goes against family tradition.”

Gawain casually said, “Who the hell made those stupid rules?”

He had always despised such rigid, outdated clan customs.

Unexpectedly, his words made the atmosphere awkward. Byron immediately looked down, pretending to tie his boots—though they were iron boots. Hetty froze, and Rebecca timidly pointed at Gawain after a couple of seconds.

Gawain: “…”

Digging into his memory, he recalled something.

The young, hot-headed hero Gawain Cecil, after a victorious campaign, had celebrated with Charles I, the founding king of the Ansu Kingdom. The two friends, drunk and boasting, talked about their great achievements. The once-struggling refugees who fled north had become pioneers and founders, destined to become the first generation of nobility. And as long as they survived and reproduced, these new nobles would give rise to ancient, prestigious families.

So the two, drunk and inspired, thought to formalize some family rules and teachings to ensure their descendants wouldn’t forget the ancestors’ spirit. As the founders among founders, Gawain and Charles I should set an example.

Seven hundred years ago, Gawain downed a large cup of strong liquor, glanced at his knight’s sword, and scrawled a line on the table:

“Knights are better than mages.”

Charles I, pleased, wrote back:

“Lord Gawain is right.”

The first became the Cecil family motto. The second was promptly vetoed by Charles’s ministers and advisors.

Wise ministers and a sober king naturally wouldn’t enshrine drunken banter as state policy, but Gawain seriously took his drunken sentiment and made it a family rule.

Snapping out of the memory, Gawain looked awkwardly at Hetty and Rebecca.

He sighed. “I was drunk back then. Just pretend that rule doesn’t exist…”

Hetty and Rebecca: “…?”

At that moment, Amber’s stomach growled loudly, breaking the tension.

“Though I know it’s a bit awkward to say this while you’re all enjoying family time,” the half-elf girl rubbed her belly sheepishly, “I’m kind of hungry.”

Amber’s rumbling seemed to trigger a chain reaction—several stomachs around the group began to grumble, including Gawain’s.

Only now did Gawain realize that since leaving that dark tomb, no one had eaten for a very long time.

And he had gone the longest without food—his last meal was back when the monkeys of Loren hadn’t even started walking upright.

(End of chapter)