Chapter 563: Tentative Trust

Once both sides chose to be open and honest, the conversation naturally became much easier.

At Gawain’s request, Melita dropped the formal “Agent of the Mithril Vault” tone and stopped addressing him with honorifics. In this setting, it was clearly a sign of growing trust.

Talking with a dragon was a novel and fascinating experience, but the real dragons were clearly nothing like the chaotic myths and legends. Gawain knew those stories well—tales passed down by bards, inscribed on ancient stone tablets, recorded in the cryptic notes of occult scholars. Humans seemed to love exaggerating and dressing these mighty creatures in mystery. Dragons were said to be powerful and proud rulers of the skies, obsessed with glittering treasures, and in ancient times, notorious for raiding human kingdoms. Some legends even claimed that the ancestors of the Gondor Empire were dragon slayers who drove off the great wyrms to secure human dominion over the continent…

Melita Pernia seemed particularly exasperated by these tales.

“We are a highly civilized race,” she said, “but those stories paint us more like wild beasts—powerful but reckless. It’s true we like treasures, but when have we ever gone on raids? Isn’t doing business more profitable than robbery?”

Gawain admired the dragons’ frankness on this point.

“Every race on this continent loves to spin such stories. The last few centuries have been better, but there was a time when human dragon-slaying novels were all the rage. It was as if a young man from a village wasn’t worthy of a bard’s tale unless he’d slain a dragon or two,” Melita continued. “That trend even caught the Council’s attention. We sent observers to the Loren continent to investigate whether dragons on missions had conflicts with human kingdoms. The observers came back with three bards who ended up freeloading in our realm for life.”

“Fear of the unknown breeds unsettling rumors,” Gawain said with a wry smile. “A powerful, mysterious race naturally attracts sensational legends. But the stories of dragons destroying kingdoms—aren’t they sometimes based on truth?”

“Why do you say that?” Melita’s eyes widened. “We never did such things…”

Gawain spread his hands. “Old Cecil was destroyed by dragonfire.”

Melita choked on the words, coughing repeatedly. “Cough, cough…”

“Was that you?” Gawain asked, watching her reaction and recalling the dragon’s features he’d witnessed. He probed gently.

“You were there?” Melita recovered from her cough, surprised. “How did I not notice…”

“So it was you,” Gawain said, eyeing the petite woman before him. Though he’d confirmed the fact, it was hard to reconcile this delicate lady with the shadow of a sky-darkening dragon. “Looks like we’ll be meeting more often than I thought.”

“I had no choice,” Melita’s voice held a hint of embarrassment. “That land was corrupted by arcane energy. The number of aberrations exceeded the threshold. Only a cleansing fire could stop the spread.”

“I understand. I’ve dealt with aberrations myself,” Gawain waved off any misunderstanding. “I’m not here to blame you—just satisfying my curiosity. And I’m also curious about something else: how do dragons view someone like me, who has come back from the dead?”

Melita studied him carefully, hesitating. “At first, your resurrection only brought us confusion.”

Gawain frowned, puzzled. “Confusion?”

“It took us over a month to retrieve the items you had stored in the Vault back then…”

Gawain was speechless.

That made perfect sense.

Melita went on, “Then we mobilized a large team to investigate the graves of all clients who had signed storage agreements with the Mithril Vault and died during the contract period. Every grave was checked, even those with no remains—we performed soul summons across the land to confirm.”

Gawain was even more speechless.

This was utterly reasonable.

He even found himself momentarily doubting the legendary millennium-old organization’s professionalism. “I signed an indefinite storage agreement with you. Do you really take items out just because the client dies…?”

“No, please don’t doubt our ethics,” Melita interrupted quickly. “We never misuse clients’ stored items during the contract. But… we do transfer them to the main warehouse, which makes them harder to find.”

Gawain thought it best to end this existential crisis for both humans and dragons.

It seemed they had covered everything worth discussing.

“Regardless, I’m glad we’ve come to understand each other better,” he stood and extended his hand. “As you said, dragons bear no ill will toward the world. I choose to believe that, and I hope you can believe I harbor no hostility toward dragons.”

“Finding a friend in the secular kingdoms with whom we can speak frankly is a gain for us as well,” Melita clasped his hand. “Our openness came from an accident, but thankfully it led to a good outcome.”

Gawain looked into Melita’s pale violet eyes behind her veil, his expression growing serious. “I’ve been through many incredible things. Believe me, I know far more about ‘Gawain Cecil’ than you do. I can accept all the unbelievable truths—about the magical tides, about the Black Trap. If you ever find the right time—or the right way—to tell me more, please come. I’m always ready.”

“I will relay your words to the Council verbatim,” Melita said calmly, returning to honorifics—not out of distance, but solemnity.

Gawain nodded and added, “Also, about the Mithril Vault branches within Cecil territory…”

Melita blinked. “You want to shut them down?”

“Let them continue,” Gawain smiled, surprising her. “As long as they operate legally and pay taxes, I have no reason to expel them.”

He couldn’t expel the Mithril Vault—or rather, the dragons’ agents.

No matter how friendly his conversation with Melita was, it didn’t change the vast gap between the dragons and the current Duchy of Cecil. They were an ancient, high-level civilization spanning eras even beyond the magical tides. Their influence on the continent surpassed any human kingdom. If they wanted to “observe,” Gawain had no power to drive them away.

Without the Mithril Vault, they might just set up a Black Iron Vault or an Adamantine Vault the next day—completely underground.

At least the Mithril Vault was registered with the Bureau of Commerce, making it a transparent third-party intelligence organization. For a ruler, if you can’t eliminate all risks, you must at least keep them under control.

“The dragons will remember this trust,” Melita said after a moment’s silence, bowing her head slightly. “Rest assured, it won’t be long before our trust deepens.”

“I look forward to that day.”

Gawain smiled and watched Melita reach the study door. Suddenly, he remembered something and called out, “Wait—aren’t you taking this box?”

He held up the box filled with Mithril Rings, waving it at the agent.

From his experience with novels and TV shows, he expected her to wave it off casually, as if the rings were no longer important—after all, they were just an icebreaker for their conversation, not particularly valuable.

But Melita quickly hurried back, clutching the box. “Ah, I forgot this…”

Gawain raised an eyebrow. “My little pony, is this really important?”

“Very important. And why did your accent just switch back?”

Gawain waved his hand. “I’m just used to calling you that.”

Melita glanced at him and shook her head. “Humans are truly hard to understand.”

With that, the elegant and mysterious agent limped away, clutching her box.

Gawain stood quietly behind his desk for a moment, then turned toward the windowed corner.

It was empty—no presence at all.

Amber had slipped away early.

He shook his head helplessly, opened the window, and called into the courtyard, “Come back—she’s gone!”

In the next instant, a swift black shadow sliced through the air and materialized into the half-elf lady in the center of the room.

Amber patted her chest, wearing an exaggerated look of relief. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Melita is a dragon?! You spent two hours in the same room with a humanoid dragon?!”

Amber had been in the room when Melita first arrived, invisibly lurking as usual. But the moment Melita revealed her dragon identity, Amber bolted.

Melita had surely noticed, but she clearly didn’t care about the little half-elf.

“More importantly, is it appropriate for you, the Lord’s Guard, to run off at the first sign of trouble?” Gawain glanced at Amber. “I thought you’d at least go get help, but you spent two hours catching ants in the yard?”

Amber looked shameless. “I wanted to call for help, but I observed first and saw you two were getting along well, so I didn’t—what’s that phrase? Don’t startle the snake…”

At least she hadn’t gone far, just watching nearby, which comforted Gawain somewhat.

“You really shouldn’t misuse those phrases. You just throw them around whenever you get the chance,” Gawain shook his head. Then, after a moment’s thought, he ordered, “Get to work—put all Mithril Vault branches and agents in the territory under close surveillance. Keep a close eye on them.”

“Covert surveillance?”

“Yes, covert surveillance.”

Gawain couldn’t expel the dragons’ agents, nor did he want to sour relations with such an ancient and powerful foreign civilization. But that didn’t mean he would do nothing.

He would keep the Vault and its agents but monitor them appropriately. This was a perfectly normal move that wouldn’t provoke the dragons and would allow the Bureau to maintain basic control over lower-level agents.

He had a hunch—given the dragons’ ties to the Black Trap, their interest in secular realms, and their own civilization level—keeping these agents and storefronts would prove useful sooner or later.

(End of chapter)