Chapter 949: Dragon, Priest
Andar, the High Speaker of the Council.
It was said that this elder was one of the oldest dragons in Talrond, a “Primordial Dragon” who had been active since before the ancient Cataclysm of the Reversal Tide and had survived to the present day.
Long before arriving in Talrond, Gawain had already absorbed a great deal of knowledge about this realm from Melita, including a brief introduction to its highest-ranking members. So the name “Andar” was not unfamiliar to him. He also knew one thing—this venerable Primordial Dragon, who appeared to be well into his twilight years, rarely left the deep chambers of the Council. In fact, over the past millennium, the number of times he had stepped outside was so few they could be counted on one hand.
Perhaps due to his extreme age, Andar usually rested in his dragon form upon his “throne.” For him to take the initiative to greet visitors today—and to even assume human shape—was a clear sign of his attitude.
Realizing this was a mark of respect, Gawain immediately adopted a suitably solemn tone. “It is an honor to meet you, High Speaker. On my journey here, I have already seen that Talrond is a truly extraordinary land. I am certain this visit will leave a deep and lasting impression.”
Andar smiled gently and slightly turned to gesture an invitation. As Gawain stepped forward to follow, the elder spoke with a warm tone, “It has been many, many years since we formally invited outsiders here—aside from the occasional ‘wanderers’ who arrive by accident. The last official visitor I recall was many millennia ago, back when the rulers of the Loren Continent were still creatures with three pairs of limbs…”
“The previous season of civilization,” Gawain said with a knowing smile as he looked at the High Speaker. “That must have been a very long time ago.”
“Yes, a very long time indeed… We have always kept watch on the world beyond Talrond, but we almost never bring outsiders here,” Andar nodded. “I hope you found our welcoming ceremony satisfactory. We based it on dragon customs but tried to accommodate human habits as much as possible. Still, the differences between us are great. If anything made you uncomfortable or was difficult to adjust to, please do not hesitate to say so.”
“It was very thoughtful,” Gawain replied promptly. “But I’m more curious about the itinerary ahead. Melita didn’t mention any detailed plans.”
Andar led the guests away from the landing platform. Melita, now back in human form, followed closely. They crossed the grand bridge connecting the platform to the main palace building and headed toward the Council’s inner courtyard. In the vast, magnificent dragon hall, Gawain’s voice echoed as if in a valley.
“Apologies for not providing a detailed schedule earlier—that was a lapse in courtesy,” Andar said as they walked side by side. His voice resonated through the gilded corridors adorned with elaborate carvings. “Our deity has not yet issued specific instructions. The divine will is inscrutable; its arrangements always carry deep meaning. And sometimes, when it delays action, that too is meaningful.”
“Has the deity made arrangements now?” Gawain glanced at the High Speaker. When speaking of the god who ruled Talrond, he felt no offense but found it difficult to summon the same reverence dragons did. So he chose a straightforward tone—after all, he was here because of that god’s invitation. “To be honest, my main purpose isn’t sightseeing. I came because I was summoned. So I’m eager to know when I might meet your… ‘Dragon God.’”
“Of course,” Andar nodded. “When you entered the skies above Argondor, the sanctuary issued clear orders. After the welcoming banquet, you will have your audience. We have prepared the sanctuary in Argondor, and the High Dragon Priest, Lord Heragor, will personally guide and accompany you.”
High Dragon Priest… Gawain’s mind quickly recalled the information Melita had shared:
Heragor was the highest representative of the “divine authority” in Talrond’s society—a powerful divine envoy who had served beside the god for centuries. Like Andar, he was a Primordial Dragon who had lived since ancient times. But it was said that Heragor had received a blessing from the deity, granting him an “eternal life even more perfect than the High Speaker’s,” which explained his perpetually youthful appearance.
No dragon knew Heragor’s true age, nor when he had become the god’s servant. According to Melita, in nearly all dragon memories, Heragor had stood beside the deity since the very beginning.
Gawain tucked away these thoughts and smiled faintly. “I look forward to the meeting. And before that, I’m also curious about what Talrond’s cuisine might be like—how it differs from the human world.”
…
At the summit of the temple, the god’s dwelling, a sacred aura had already descended.
“My Lord,” Heragor immediately bowed before the figure seated on the holy throne. “You have returned.”
“Hm,” the golden-haired figure responded briefly, then cast a downward gaze. “Heragor, have they all arrived?”
Heragor lowered his head. Though curious about where the goddess had gone during her recent absence, he carefully restrained his curiosity. “Yes, they have arrived as scheduled. Following your instructions, I conveyed the decree to the Council. After the welcoming banquet, the audience will be arranged.”
“Not an audience, a meeting, Heragor,” the voice from the throne corrected sharply. “They are guests I invited.”
“…As you say.”
The Dragon God nodded, then asked casually, “Tell me what you know—how did the guests react upon seeing the true Talrond?”
“Surprise, astonishment, shock—undoubtedly, everything about Talrond overwhelms outsiders,” Heragor said. “But… their reactions were more complex.
“The two human women reacted normally. They showed the expected amazement at Talrond’s advancement and splendor, and a natural curiosity about things unseen in their world. But the human emperor you invited—the man named Gawain Cecil—his reaction was somewhat strange.”
“Strange?” The Dragon God raised an eyebrow. “Heragor, you rarely speak in such ambiguous terms.”
“Indeed, strange, my Lord,” Heragor chose his words carefully, revealing the subtle anomalies he had observed. “Though that human showed surprise at Talrond, it was far less than I expected. When confronted with unusual things, he seemed more contemplative than shocked—yes, contemplative. He appeared to be constantly thinking, often showing barely perceptible confusion. It gave me the impression… Talrond did not deliver the expected shock to him. He was surprised only because he did not expect these things here, not because they were entirely unfamiliar. It was as if he had seen similar sights before.”
Heragor hesitated, then added cautiously, “It feels as though he has been observing and judging us with a detached—almost arrogant—attitude. That is clearly abnormal, my Lord.”
The voice from the throne was silent for several seconds before speaking slowly, “…That is quite interesting.”
“My Lord,” Heragor looked up, curiosity in his eyes, “why have you asked me to focus on this? Is the reaction of this human emperor to Talrond truly important?”
“Merely curiosity,” the deity’s tone was unusually light, almost amused. “Have you not wondered, Heragor? That human… he has done many things in his mortal kingdom. Dragons who traveled abroad brought back fascinating intelligence—about systems, knowledge, even ways of thinking. On the surface, he seems to be merely integrating and quietly advancing these changes. But his actions exceed the knowledge and mindset he should possess… Such things could not have naturally arisen in his environment, at least not in his generation. Heragor, don’t you find that intriguing?”
Heragor felt his breath quicken but said nothing.
The god’s voice continued evenly:
“Gawain Cecil… the ‘resurrected’ mortal hero. On the surface, he appears to be an ordinary human, but unfortunately… not quite.”
“Heragor, prepare yourself. The banquet in the lower halls will not last long. Just as I am eager to meet him, I believe he is equally eager to meet me.”
…
“I hope you are enjoying our food and music,” Melita approached Gawain with a smile. “To be honest, these are probably the two things dragons are least skilled at—at least in my opinion. We are better with stone and metal—sculpture and forging arts. As for cuisine… Talrond’s food is rather bland.”
“But to me, it’s all wonderful,” Gawain complimented, his gaze sweeping over the resplendent hall and the banquet table. As likely the only human emperor dining in Talrond this season, the feast naturally reflected the dragons’ hospitality. Yet, truth be told, their food was not as varied or colorful as he had imagined. The main dishes were mostly various meats, with fish as side dishes. Grains and vegetables were mere garnishes, barely considered food. This reflected the dragons’ usual eating habits, but as Melita said… it was somewhat dull.
Still, for a newcomer like Gawain, the unique flavors made up for the monotony.
“To be honest… I was puzzled by a strange question before,” he suddenly said. “It’s about your diet. Your dragon form and human form differ so greatly—when you eat, do you base it on your dragon size or your human size? This might be a bit rude, but… this food wouldn’t be nearly enough for a dragon tens of meters long, would it?”
“…You truly are yourself, always noticing details ordinary people wouldn’t even think of,” Melita paused, then laughed. “But you’re right—this food is definitely not enough for a dragon.”
“Of course, we absorb energy according to dragon standards. But when we’re in our draconic form, we don’t have to be so particular about food—our taste buds and oral senses are quite dull in that shape. We can’t even tell the difference between raw and cooked meat. That’s why we never host guests or dine with them while in dragon form, especially if the guests are smaller in size… You know, it would come off as crude, and there’s a high risk involved—like accidentally causing harm.”
“In human form, however, we can handle and savor more refined dishes, as you’ve seen. We choose to entertain guests in human form not only because it appears more ‘friendly’ to most intelligent races, but also because it allows us to truly enjoy the cuisine.”
Gawain had asked the question casually out of curiosity, but hearing such fascinating details from Melita caught him off guard. After her explanation, he muttered under his breath, “So dragons basically eat two meals—one for tasting, and one for filling up?”
“Most of the less fastidious dragons only have the second meal—especially now that convenience foods are so common. Almost all young dragons these days don’t have the patience to study cooking or bother with complicated natural foods,” Melita shook her head. Though she herself was a young dragon, her tone carried the weight of an old dragon’s lament. “Of course, the ones at banquets like this are the ‘fussy’ dragons. So after we finish dining with you, we’ll go back and eat again…”
Gawain: “…”
“Useless knowledge just keeps piling up!” Amber, who happened to be strolling by with a chicken leg in hand, remarked casually, perfectly voicing Gawain’s inner thoughts.
The banquet was winding down when Gawain noticed a servant-like figure enter through a side door. The person quickly approached Speaker Andar and whispered something in his ear.
“Looks like ‘this round’ is about to end,” Gawain said, turning to Melita. “I guess someone’s about to invite me to an appointment.”
Melita glanced curiously toward the speaker’s direction, and almost simultaneously, the elderly man turned and began walking their way.
“I hope our hospitality has been satisfactory,” Speaker Andar said as he approached Gawain. “Our deity has just sent word. If it’s convenient for you all now… He wishes to meet with you in the Upper Sanctuary.”
Gawain glanced back, then looked at the speaker. “Does that include the two friends I brought?”
Andar nodded. “Yes, including them.”
“No problem. We’re free now.” Gawain smiled immediately. Amber, still gnawing on her chicken leg beside him, glanced at her beloved food with a reluctant look—she seemed to want to protest that she wasn’t exactly free, but under Gawain’s subtle gaze, she quickly set the chicken leg down. “Free, free, very free…”
As for Veronica, standing nearby on standby… she was clearly already prepared.
“That’s good,” Andar nodded. “Please follow me—Lord Helragor is waiting just outside the hall. He will escort you to the Upper Sanctuary.”
Following the speaker, Gawain, Amber, and Veronica soon passed through the banquet hall. After going through a massive golden door that looked like a city gate, the music inside the hall faded into a faint murmur. Gawain immediately spotted a man standing alone in a wide, quiet corridor, dressed in pale gold robes and wearing a golden ceremonial crown.
No attendants or guards were visible around him.
This must be Helragor, the High Dragon Priest—the highest representative of the ‘divine authority’ in Talrond society.
As the thought crossed Gawain’s mind, the man, sensing their presence, turned around and gave a slight nod in greeting. “Welcome, honored guests. I will escort you to the Upper Sanctuary. Please, call me Helragor.”
Gawain nodded, about to respond, but then his gaze froze.
He stared at Helragor’s face, unable to look away.
He remembered that face.
At the heart of the Eternal Storm, in that place where time and space stood still, he had seen that face before!
It was the dragon who stood atop the Iron Tower, like a commander at the center of the battlefield, fighting alongside the guardian dragons against ‘Them’!
(Holy hell!)
(End of chapter)