Chapter 366: Dragon Hunter

The dragon was slain.

Having obtained the Moving Castle and journeyed through the world, he had often become involved in affairs larger than originally planned. But he didn’t think the scale had ever expanded as much as this dragon hunt.

Yet there was no regret. The expressions of those looking up at Eugene, standing atop the dragon’s head, proved it. It was a deed worth the effort.

“Long live His Majesty the King!”

“Glory to Britainia!”

“May the true knightly kingdom endure forever!”

This was an era of collective punishment, where if one person erred, those around them were dragged down as well.

Similarly, when a figure with the king’s representative status accomplished something great, it became the honor of the entire nation.

Though they didn’t show it openly, the Britainia knights had long felt an inferiority complex about existing on the margins of history. But look at their king now.

Slash!

Standing on the dragon’s head, swinging a massive axe to clear away blood—no amount of human authority, wealth, or ceremony could replicate that.

“Knights of Britainia! It was an honor to have you on this journey. With your support, we broke through countless monsters to reach here. By shattering the dragon’s legs, I was able to climb atop its head and end its life.”

“Yaaaaah!!!”

The knights raised their weapons and cheered.

“To the summoner corps who supported the process with wisdom and sorcery, and to the artillery who suppressed the enemy with steadfast firepower—your efforts are commended. To the soldiers who served in reconnaissance, vigilance, and various engagements—my respects. Thanks to your dedication, we could fight as ourselves.”

“Waaaaah!!!”

With a mix of summoners and Lantzheim warriors, the cheer was somewhat different from the characteristic Britainia roar.

The expedition was not yet over. Normally, Eugene wouldn’t have made such a speech even after a major battle.

But even the always-composed man was, after all, a warrior. Before the great feat of slaying a dragon, some excitement was inevitable.

*

“Break camp! Tonight, we spend the night in the dwarven city!”

The army outside the cave bustled with activity. Lantzheim centurions ran about, encouraging the soldiers.

“Hurry, everyone! His Majesty and the knights are all exhausted from the dragon battle!”

“The medical ward for the wounded and field cots for rest should be moved first.”

Everyone couldn’t help but ask.

“Was the dragon really caught?”

“Yes. His Majesty charged through the flames and dispatched it personally. From now on, we are the army that serves the dragon slayer—consider it an honor.”

“!!!”

The Lantzheim folk were soldiers by nature, so that was one thing. But the mercenaries brought by various knights and lords had no particular loyalty to speak of. They were outsiders who worked for pay.

But as men who lived by the sword, they had their pride. It was natural to want the leader who commanded them to be strong and noble.

The dragon slayer was the highest honor a human could attain. Serving the army of a king who held that title could satisfy even the most demanding mercenary. The hands of mercenaries packing gear sped up naturally. Everyone felt their shoulders rise with pride.

“Cooks should begin preparing as soon as we enter. We can’t have our great heroes chewing on hard jerky.”

The purified cave filled with the entering army. Recovered palisades and traps were reinstalled at the entrance.

“Centurion, where do we get water?”

“Look for rooms marked with water-drop patterns. There should be aqueducts with flowing springs. They’re intact and the water is clean, so use them with confidence.”

“It’s been abandoned for so long, and it’s still fine?”

As expected of a dwarven city. Though inferior to the old kingdom’s stonework, the refinement and preservation of interior facilities were nothing to be ashamed of.

“Assign personnel to repair the damaged facilities and report.”

“It’s just a temporary stay—do we need to be that strict?”

This objection didn’t come from laziness. Conserving stamina and resources by omitting unnecessary work was also a virtue of a strong army.

The request came not from the Lantzheim warriors but from a Gord mercenary, so the sincerity was questionable.

“This will be an ongoing stronghold. When expanding our influence from the Great Forest toward this region, it will serve as an important relay base. His Majesty also mentioned reviving the mining operations.”

“So it was a mine! What was discovered here?”

A mercenary who had been a miner asked. Other mercenaries, their curiosity piqued, stopped what they were doing and looked.

“Mithril.”

“…Yes?”

Everyone present froze.

*

“I… I had intended to end without casualties, but this is how you repay me?”

“I’m sorry. I should have controlled them more strictly.”

At Hind’s words, Eugene shook his head.

“You have nothing to apologize for. No matter how many times you warned them, how could you stop someone who ignores it?”

Eugene looked down at the dead knight with a somber expression. His entire circulatory system had turned blue and swollen, and his face was a mess—indicating an extremely painful end.

After the battle, while busy treating wounded and dispatching messengers, one knight had acted on his own.

‘The blood of a magical creature is sacred.’

This was a belief that transcended all races and regions, spreading like common sense.

Knight Paul, too, believed that dragon blood prevented aging and granted the strength of a warrior. Hadn’t Eugene himself bathed in dragon blood and emerged unscathed?

Seizing an opportunity, he had gulped down a bowl before the blood cooled, and this was the result.

-Kyaaaaah!

-Wh-what?! Paul!

-It’s hot!

-Medic! Medic! Get here immediately!

Before Paul, clutching his throat and screaming, the medic could do nothing. Black, dead blood foamed from Paul’s mouth, making it impossible even to administer a pain potion.

-Smell of burning?

-Damn it. His blood vessels are melting and rupturing.

Dragon blood contained the power of lava. It had circulated through Paul’s entire body, destroying blood vessels and damaging muscles and organs. That he hadn’t gone into shock midway was a small mercy.

Moreover, it seemed to run in the family—Paul’s squire had also caused trouble.

-Kraah!

-What now?!

The squire hadn’t drunk the dragon blood but had sprinkled it on his skin instead. The reason was that in the legend he had read, the hero who bathed in dragon blood became immortal.

“Huuuh… aahh… haaah…”

The squire lay on a stretcher, not yet dead. Since he hadn’t drunk it like his master, the symptoms were milder, but his entire circulatory system had changed color.

“I’ve never seen such violent mystique. It’s as if hundreds of venomous snakes are coiled around his entire body. Venomous snakes made of lava.”

A summoner skilled in curse removal spoke.

“Can you cure him?”

“It’s difficult. If it were just a light splash, I could have saved him with exorcism and holy water…”

“This one appears to have poured a bucketful inside after washing up.”

“He learned from Your Majesty’s example that dragon blood has absorptive properties. He likely won’t survive the night.”

In truth, even enduring the dragon’s curse wouldn’t save him.

“He dared to touch Your Majesty’s spoils without permission. He deserves to die.”

“Execute him quickly to establish military discipline.”

More than a few knights demanded the squire’s immediate execution. But Eugene refused the request.

“We need to warn others about the dangers of touching dragon blood. A living example with a intact head but a blue-green body will be more effective than a headless corpse.”

“Now that you mention it, that would work too. There are so many myths about dragon blood that verbal warnings alone won’t stop someone else from trying.”

The knight answering now was one who had read the legend of ‘the death knight born from bathing in dragon blood!’

That military discipline was decided by which old story one had heard. Eugene was so sorrowful he could have sighed, but what could one do about the times?

“This squire will be stripped and displayed for all to see, fully alive.”

All eyes turned to the dead knight Paul.

“What about Sir Paul?”

“As a warrior who fell in battle, collect his body. His end was unfortunate, but he was a knight nonetheless. He atoned for his sin through a painful death, and his honor shall be preserved.”

“Your Majesty is truly the epitome of chivalry.”

The knights nodded with pleased expressions.

Eugene was an inspirational figure who, as a true knight, had trained and traveled, rising from the bottom all the way to king.

But before being a ruler, he never forgot that he was first and foremost a knight. One couldn’t help but be moved by his attitude of treating a fellow knight with such generosity.

The knights gathered here, despite their vast difference in status with Eugene, shared a sense of kinship as fellow members of the knight’s cartel. That was, needless to say, a pleasant feeling.

“All right, that’s enough whining.”

Eugene approached the dragon’s corpse, holding the blood-draining dagger that was trembling wildly.

“Now, where would you like to start tasting? Shall we begin with the soft, juicy eyes? Or perhaps extracting spinal fluid and bone marrow from those broken vertebrae…”

Hum hum hum hum.

The blood-draining dagger vibrated as if going mad.

“But why is His Majesty fine?”

A knight who had been watching asked.

“Hey!”

“What an irreverent thing to say!”

Everyone was curious but had never dared voice the question aloud.

“No, I’m just asking out of curiosity.”

“Maybe humans are just strong.”

“Perhaps the goddess is protecting him.”

Whatever the reason, everyone present had no desire to approach dragon blood. Just participating in the dragon hunt had earned them a lifetime of honor—they had no wish to die miserably like Paul.

*

When the army that had moved into the cave finished cleaning and cooking, the subjugation force also completed treatment and repairs.

“They really caught it…”

“Talion, may you find peace.”

“If I had known this would happen, I should have been with the princess from the start.”

The elves gazed at the great spoil with emotions of wonder, relief, and regret.

“We can’t use the blood. The mystique is extremely potent. It’s like having an active volcano in front of you.”

The summoners were debating how to transport the dragon.

“If touched carelessly, you’ll suffer the same fate as Lord Marbas.”

“To emit such powerful energy even after death—saying that natural force has been embodied as a dragon is no exaggeration.”

Everyone clicked their tongues. The enormous size was one thing, but being unable to touch the blood made transport extremely difficult.

“I’ve hunted many strong monsters, but this is a first for me too.”

Eugene also looked exasperated.

‘It’s not radioactive waste, you know.’

But it wasn’t without its advantages. Thanks to the blood’s purifying properties, the corpse wouldn’t rot.

“It’s strange. There’s no fishy smell at all from the blood. If anything, it smells more like disinfectant—somewhat toxic but refreshing.”

Homi circled the dragon, sniffing with a curious expression.

“You think the lava’s energy would only kill humans? Any microorganisms that crawled in looking for food would be incinerated too.”

“Your Majesty is correct. Among small monsters inhabiting active volcanoes, there are similar ones. Even after death and months of abandonment, their soft tissues remain preserved. What more for a dragon…”

While the summoner delivered his passionate explanation, Eugene removed his upper garments and slung Blackout over his shoulder.

“Your Majesty? Surely you don’t intend to butcher it yourself?”

“Your compassion for your subordinates is truly noble, but this is excessive.”

The knights tried to stop him, but Eugene wouldn’t listen.

“Proper butchering will require considerable preparation time. We can’t just stand around here until then.”

His business in the Great Forest wasn’t finished. Slaying the dragon, in truth, had been a secondary objective.

“Everyone stand back. At the very least, we need to take the head, right? That will make entering Elenost much easier.”

“Indeed. Who would dare block the way if we’re dragging a dragon’s head?”

Thus began Eugene’s axe work. It wasn’t difficult. Unlike a hydra, where every drop of blood was precious, all he needed to do was sever the head.

But for the spectators, it was quite the show. Warriors cheered as they watched the dragon’s neck being chopped methodically.

“Oh…”

“Wow…”

Valda and Maria were captivated by the primal spectacle of the axe man.

*

After several days of rest, Eugene’s army departed the dwarven cave. At its head were wagons bearing the dragon’s head.

Monsters fled at the sight, but the villagers’ reactions were the opposite. Elves rushed out without exception.

“Where is the chief of this village? A legitimate heir to the royal family has arrived! Together with her mighty consort, she has slain the evil dragon! You must show proper hospitality!”

The accompanying elf chiefs shouted excitedly.

“Isn’t this intrusive? We’re being rather forward in someone else’s village.”

“There’s no need to worry.”

Valda took Eugene’s hand reassuringly.

“Villages near Elenost are uniformly prosperous. Until recently, the forest’s abundance was at its peak, so they should have ample food stores.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Moreover, in the Great Forest, the custom of hospitality toward guests surpasses even nomadic peoples. It’s usually limited to fellow forest residents, but given the circumstances…”

In truth, the villages’ response was a grand welcome.

“Blessings to the hero who slew the dragon!”

“Thank you for avenging my brother.”

Beautiful elf maidens placed elaborate flower crowns on Eugene’s head.

“Would you bless my child? Our village needs strong warriors.”

An elf woman with a belly swollen like a watermelon approached shyly with a request. When Eugene placed his hand on her belly and recited a prayer of Banas, she was overjoyed.

“Were elves always this open? Even the outer villages maintained a reserved, distant attitude.”

“The situation then and now are different, aren’t they?”

Valda looked at the near-term belly with envy.

“Elves are stubborn. And this is their last remaining home. The concept of fleeing from disaster doesn’t exist—only hiding or enduring. That’s why you shouldn’t judge their gratitude by outside standards.”

“They have a different mindset from those who could abandon their village and flee at any moment.”

“Yes. Like a captain going down with a sinking ship.”

The Avarim nearby looked displeased—their reaction to compatriots clinging to outdated ways.

‘In this regard, they’re definitely different from dark elves.’

From there, it was a repeated march and hospitality with no significant battles. The rumor had apparently already spread, as from the second village onward, they had prepared a feast and were waiting for Eugene and Valda.

“Any news about Ostir?”

“Still missing. He’s effectively dead, I’d say. Not a single member of the royal guard has returned.”

“They say a relative in Elenost has already completed the succession. No one wanted to inherit, so they forced it on someone. They know it’s a candle in the wind.”

The Avarim listed information relayed from their comrades in the capital.

Throughout the march, there had been not a single monster attack. Hungry ones might lurk at the edge of the perimeter at night, but they didn’t even approach. Everyone seemed thoroughly frightened by the tyrant’s fate.

“How reassuring.”

Eugene stroked the dragon’s cheek atop the wagons. Days after death, it still hadn’t cooled and retained its warmth. Flies dared not even land on it.

“It doesn’t seem to be just because of the head.”

“Then what?”

Homi brought Sandy close, twitching her nose near Eugene.

“Your scent has changed.”

“If you say it like that, I don’t understand.”

“It’s a frightening scent.”

“That’s hurtful in its own way.”

“Remember when we were chasing the dragon and I smelled her urine? Ah! Don’t misunderstand—there’s nothing unpleasant about it. Rather…”

Homi smiled softly and gathered her thoughts.

“With every sip, I feel a weight pressing down on my lungs. Like an invisible giant hand gripping me and squeezing.”

“…I don’t quite get it. But it’s not a bad thing, right?”

Homi took one last deep breath of his scent and shook her head.

“No.”

“Huh?”

Eugene was slightly taken aback.

“It’s very badass.”

Homi’s face was filled with satisfaction. Her voice, faintly trembling, held a hint of fear—but it was by no means negative.

It was similar to the relationship between spiciness and pain. A sensation that simultaneously awed and excited her.