Chapter 217

Cledwyn watched with polite patience as the gnoll who had guided him looked around in confusion. Then he asked in a flat, emotionless voice:

“My wife isn’t here, is she?”

The gnoll was usually good at deception, but right now he was genuinely rattled. He shook his head.

“N-no! Hisss! She should be here! Hiss! But, uh, my pack must’ve moved her, hiss! They saw you dragging me, hisss! And got scared!”

“Nice try. Goodbye.”

A crescent flash burst from his sword. The gnoll collapsed, spraying blood.

Why the gnoll had brought him here was obvious enough. A dimly lit, filthy spot where the light orbs barely reached. Likely the home base of this gnoll group—at least the one this particular gnoll belonged to.

But no other gnolls were present. Not even traces of them.

If Nerys had really come this way, there should have been pins along the route. Since there were none, she had never been brought here.

Cledwyn glanced around with a blank expression. He was utterly exasperated. Relieved, but infuriated too.

If Nerys had been captured by these “gnolls,” it might’ve been better. They were at least intelligent and oddly capable of speech. They might not have killed a sudden intruder on sight.

But if she had run into something dumber in this insane, monster-infested place—an orc, or that Stone Golem from earlier…

The worst possibilities he tried not to imagine kept surfacing. Suddenly he couldn’t breathe. He forced himself to inhale. Panic would help no one.

He trusted his subordinates. They would reach this place soon. He only had to stay alive until then.

The problem was whether she could stay alive until then without some adjustments.

Cledwyn decided what he had to do.

He took a whistle from his coat and blew it with all his strength.

Fweeeet, fweet, FWEEEET!

The whistle, forged to produce an exceptionally loud sound for commanding knights, rang three times. That was enough.

Moments later, prickling killing intent rose from every direction. Cledwyn bared his teeth and shouted:

“Over here! You stupid monsters—if you want me, come and get me!”

❖ ❖ ❖

Reaching one end of the corridor she’d been walking, Nerys felt a small wave of disappointment as she confirmed it was nothing but a dead-end wall.

She had known from afar that it was a wall—there was nothing to obscure her view. But with a massive arch carved into it from floor to ceiling, she had hoped for a side door. Or at least a narrow passage.

She had spent a good amount of time getting here, so she needed to turn back quickly.

As she trudged away, a strange noise echoed faintly in the distance. Grrrk, keeeck! Something like a beast’s roar, or a monster’s scream.

Instinctively, chills ran up her spine. Right—just because she hadn’t seen people didn’t mean there were no beasts living here.

What kind of beast made a sound like that? Wolves? She was newly conscious of the fact she had no weapon. Not that a weapon her size would help her fight a wolf anyway.

FWEEEE! Pweeeeet! FWEEEET!
Three earth-rattling blasts split the air, followed by a familiar voice.

“Over here! You stupid monsters—if you want me, come and get me!”

…Here… here… monsters… come… get… me.
A voice so sharp and familiar it struck her heart like a spear. Nerys gasped.

Cledwyn was here.

The enclosed space caused multiple echoes to bounce around. It was hard to pinpoint direction immediately, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t close.

Grrr…

Just as she braced herself to search the opposite side of the corridor, Nerys felt her skin crawl.

Hundreds of gargoyles perched on the pillars were staring directly at her.

Gargoyles. Yes, she had seen gargoyles before. Noble estates and palaces often decorated their exteriors with grotesque gargoyle statues to ward off evil and frighten thieves. But—

For them to open their eyes and look at a person? That belonged in childhood fairy tales.

‘So those tales were based on truth.’

If what she’d deciphered in the library earlier was correct, then yes—things that only happened in stories were not impossible here. Even greater things were within expectation.

The gargoyles stared at her with eerie, expressionless faces, but they didn’t hurl their light orbs or swoop toward her. Still, their gaze made her skin prickle.

Not knowing what they were capable of, Nerys swallowed and glared back at them, forcing herself to muster courage.

“Turn your eyes away. Return to your original state. I am not the one your master seeks.”

Her Jeweled Eyes didn’t work on inanimate objects. She had no intention of using them anyway. But gargoyles—perhaps…

After a few tense seconds, the gargoyles slowly looked away. A few stretched their wings or scratched their faces with stone claws.

Had it worked? Or had they simply lost interest? Rather than conclude anything prematurely, Nerys carefully pressed herself against the nearest pillar.

Hissss.
A beastlike chuckle brushed past her ear. As she turned—

“My child. What brings you here?”

A soft yet solemn voice called out to her.

❖ ❖ ❖

“…Hah.”

Cledwyn stood surrounded by the corpses of monsters he couldn’t even name.

He swung, and swung again—again—and each time, he cut down more. Sometimes he leapt into advantageous positions, slipping through enemy gaps and wreaking havoc.

He was drenched in blood and panting by the end, but that was fine. He wanted every monster in this place to focus on him.

So Nerys, wherever she might be, would encounter fewer of them.

For now, a lull had fallen. Nearly shaking with nerves, Cledwyn shouted:

“Nerys! Nerys, where are you?”

Creeeak.

The gargoyles didn’t swarm him, but whenever he made noise nearby, the closest ones turned their heads and attacked one by one. As he shouted, a gargoyle on the next pillar set its light orb back into place and spread its wings.

Killing intent thickened around him. If killing intent had shape, he imagined it would look like fog so dense it hid everything ahead.

“Enough! Move aside!”

A firm voice snapped the tension in the air.

The charging gargoyle turned toward the source of the voice—only to be cut from the side by Cledwyn’s sword. Screeches of frustration echoed everywhere.

But Cledwyn no longer cared about any of them.

Between the decorated pillars stretching like forest branches, Nerys appeared.

She was unharmed. Completely. Her platinum-blonde hair shimmered loose, but aside from that she looked no different from when they’d parted.

Cledwyn’s relief washed through him. Peace, then joy, spread across his face.

One annoyance remained: she wasn’t alone. A tall woman stood beside her.

A woman with unique metallic-blonde hair and golden eyes of the same color. Cledwyn had seen her once—back when Diane MacKinnon and Nerys had explored the Dreykum ruins.

Why was she here? He eyed the woman warily, ignoring the monsters entirely.

Then Nerys raised her hand, drawing his gaze to her.

“Back off. Do not come any closer to us.”

The surrounding monsters now simply watched the three of them silently. Their once-feral faces strangely slackened.

“Nerys! Thank goodness.”

He approached her. After confirming there were no hidden wounds he couldn’t see from afar, he pulled her slender body into a firm embrace.

“I was afraid you… might be here. And afraid you might not be. Whether you fell in with me or somewhere else—the worry wouldn’t end either way.”

Nerys returned his hug calmly.

“I’m fine. I bumped into a few things falling down, but nothing serious. A bed caught me at the end, anyway.”

“A bed?”

Cledwyn recalled where he’d found the first pin. That room had indeed been a small bedroom. They must not have fallen far apart.

It didn’t matter anymore. He let out a shaky laugh.

“Good. If you’d landed on that filthy floor, I don’t know what I would’ve done. So how’d these things come with you?”

“They seem to hear the Jeweled Eyes. They listen well even without direct eye contact. Makes me wonder if the effect differs by species… we can talk about that later.”

“Right. Let’s get out of here first.”

Finishing his sentence, Cledwyn glared sharply at the golden-eyed woman, ready to draw his sword if necessary.

Everything about her felt wrong. Her golden irises looked forged from literal gold, but even that wasn’t the strangest thing. She simply felt…

Alien. Like two completely different painters had forced their styles together into one figure.

The golden-eyed woman smiled softly and spoke to the monsters.

「Begone」

Could that even be called a voice? Cledwyn’s keen ears screamed in agony. It wasn’t a pitch humans could speak or hear. It was a command poured directly into his brain—his soul.

The monsters felt it too. Unlike when hearing Nerys, they fled instantly without even breathing.

Nerys gently pushed Cledwyn aside and watched the departing monsters, frowning.

“…What did you do? Your voice carried everywhere. Were you trying to summon every sentient thing in the area?”

Her wording was odd. “Sentient thing”? Not “monster”?

“I didn’t want anything reaching you.”

“Reckless.”

Nerys clicked her tongue, but Cledwyn no longer cared. The golden-eyed woman made an exaggerated sound of admiration.

“You two have quite the bond. To think I’d witness a child of Elandria choose a partner.”

“Who are you? Are you some kind of monster yourself?”

“Not entirely untrue.”

Cledwyn’s question was blunt and rude, yet the woman paid it no mind. She smiled as though he had guessed correctly. Nerys, on the other hand, reacted sharply.

“Do not be rude.”

“What? What’s wrong?”

He had never been scolded like that by his wife, and he blinked in confusion. Seeing his doubt, Nerys sighed, resigned.

“I have no right to introduce her, but unintentionally, I’m in that position now. If what I read was correct, and what the gnolls and orcs told me was true…”

Nerys spoke clearly.

“This is the most powerful dragon in recorded history, the ruler of the continent six hundred years ago.” (T/N: HOLYYYYY EFFFING SHHHHTTT. What a sudden twist of events. )

Every human’s nightmare.

The evil dragon said to have been slain by the three legendary heroes.

How could he not recognize the title? Before he even processed the thought, Cledwyn shielded Nerys from the dragon.

The dragon’s round pupils stretched vertically in an instant. Her face, beautiful yet reminiscent of high cliffs and endless seas, radiated awe and terror simultaneously. A normal person would have frozen on the spot.

But Cledwyn did not bow to the killing intent slicing through his body. He drew his sword, searching intently for an opening to strike if necessary.

Until the dragon withdrew her killing intent and laughed.

“Humans truly are endearing. To describe a dragon with phrases like ‘since your history began.’ Insolent by nature, but what can I expect of you?”

She blinked once. Her eyes remained uncanny, but now carried more mystery than intimidation.

“You’ve come this far, so I shall offer hospitality, child of Pheros. The child of Elandria refused to share tea with me until confirming your safety, after all.”