VOLUME 13: CHAPTER 19

Inside the Nasty Bucket, the three Dragons were observing the blizzard outside through the window.

The explorers and the witches had returned to their rooms by now, and the only people remaining on the ground floor – the area where the pub was located – were Vulcan, Shahaneth, Agnus, and the innkeepers.

Well, the Lord Knight was here too, but it hardly moved and didn't speak – it was almost no different from a chunk of armor, for the Dragons at least.

Captain Symon and Reginald had left the inn hours ago to investigate something.

"Hmm…. the tea tastes quite good despite being meant for humans."

Vulcan was visibly in a good mood as he sipped his tea.

As a fire Dragon, he normally disliked cold weather, but today was an exemption.

Whenever he thought that the Scylla must be suffering from the cold right now, he couldn't help but appreciate the weather more.

"What a beautiful snow," said Shahaneth. "It sometimes snows at the Lair, too, but it wasn't as cold as this."

"King Lark said it's related to the Elemental Lord sealed underneath this nation," said Agnus.

Shahaneth sipped her wine, put down her goblet, and said, "Father, I'm curious. You've fought against the clone of the Demon Lord in the imperial capital. Between the clone and an Elemental, who is stronger?"

Vulcan pondered for a while before answering the question.

"Who is stronger? I don't know. That's a difficult question. As absurd as it sounds, the Demon Lord has the ability to tear through space itself, while Elementals have the ability to regenerate indefinitely as long as its core is intact. They also have command over an element, too. They're basically living, moving, clumps of elemental mana."

Creating tears through space at will shouldn't be possible, no matter how proficient in mana an individual was.

The Demon Lord Barkuvara was an entity that had gone beyond the laws of this world. Vulcan could even confidently say he was an anomaly that shouldn't have been allowed to exist in the first place.

Vulcan remembered the slash that had struck his body back then.

Even now, he still couldn't believe it was possible to easily pierce the scales he was so proud of like that.

If the clone had put more strength into that strike, Vulcan wouldn't probably be standing here right now.

Now that he'd thought of it, he was fortunate to be still alive.

'Ridiculous. I wonder how the other Dragons lived in the Era of Magic. It must be terrifying living with those monsters roaming around.'

Although he was hundreds of years old, Vulcan was fairly young, considering a Dragon's lifespan. He wasn't born yet when those monsters were rampaging throughout different realms during the Era of Magic.

"Well, how about the Elemental Lord, father?" said Agnus. "If it fought the Demon Lord's clone, who would win?"

Vulcan annoyedly said, "Isn't it obvious? The clone of the Demon Lord may be strong, but an Elemental Lord is a mutated entity several times stronger than its kin. It's basically a god living among mortals. Even now, I can't understand why an Elemental Lord is sleeping underneath the Republic. And I can't fathom how someone managed to seal it."

If the Ice Elemental Lord woke up, the entire Republic – maybe the northwest part of the Empire, too – would turn into a frozen land in just a few days.

The Witches of Aravark had done well maintaining and protecting its seal until now.

"…I see," muttered Agnus. He did not ask further questions, noticing his father's annoyance.

"Enough of this conversation about the Elementals," said Vulcan. "Just thinking of it brings back bad memories. If you'd directly fought the one living in the Dwarven Mountains, you'd understand."

Although he frequently bragged about defeating the Earth Elemental in the Dwarven Mountains, honestly, it was a traumatic experience for the young Vulcan.

The negative feelings he'd been harboring from the experience were amplified when he saw the Elementals sealed under the Republic.

"We should be celebrating instead, father," said Shahaneth.

"I agree, sister," said Agnus with a knowing smile. "Those damn snakes must be contemplating about life right now! Hahaha!"

Vulcan's mood quickly shifted when he was reminded of the Scylla.

Vulcan snorted. "Arrogant bastards! They dare covet the magic exclusive to our Dragon Race? They'd be lucky not to come out a cripple after dabbling with our magic!"

The Dragons were certain that the Scylla would never succeed in the polymorph spell. No matter how skilled that snake was, the difference in constitution and physique was an impossible hurdle to overcome.

King Lark was probably consoling the Scylla right now, telling it encouraging words like 'It's just your first try!' 'Don't give up!'.

Or maybe the Scylla had already fled from the Republic, too ashamed to face King Lark after failing to polymorph several times?

Or better yet, maybe it had already become a cripple after forcefully polymorphing its body despite its unsuitable constitution!

"Hehehe, maybe it's dead?" said Vulcan.

"Ah, don't get my hopes up, father," said Shahaneth.

Thinking about the Scylla and its foolish attempts at polymorph always lifted their spirits up.

"Hey, armored brother," said Agnus to the Lord Knight. "What do you think? Wanna make a bet?"

The Lord Knight remained silently standing near the entrance, unmoving.

"Heh, how boring," said Agnus.

"Brat, what are you doing? Making another bet? First, the Scylla. Now, this. You never learn, do you?"

"Sister, it's just a chunk of metal. It can't even speak. See?"

Vulcan glanced at the Lord Knight. Unlike his children, he knew how dangerous it was. Moreover, it was unpredictable whenever Lark wasn't around.

He said to his son, "Agnus. That thing could probably kill you if it tried. Stop provoking it."

"W-What? Father! Are you saying it's stronger than me, a Dragon?"

"I'm saying it's stronger than you in your polymorphed state. Now, stop bothering it."

"Hah… alright, alright."

Vulcan gazed at the Lord Knight. He inwardly sighed in relief, glad that it chose to ignore his foolish son.

For over an hour, the Dragons stood there, admiring the blizzard outside.

They daydreamed of the day the Scylla became a cripple after having an accident after attempting polymorph.

They daydreamed about the expression the stupid snake would make the moment it realized its arrogance.

Ah, how fun!

They really looked forward to that day to come!

"GRUAH!"

Their daydreams were broken when the Lord Knight, who'd been silently standing near the entrance all this time, suddenly grunted. Its eyes glowed momentarily.

A loud thud sound was heard as the Lord Knight swiftly knelt on one knee.

Soon, the Dragons realized the reason for this.

Lark had finally returned to the Nasty Bucket.

Lark had left the tavern alone, but he returned with several men in tow.

Who were those people?

The old men behind Lark were quite tall, almost the same height as Commander Khuumal. All seven of them hid their hands behind their back.

"I'm back," said Lark.

"Welcome back," said Vulcan. "Hm? And… they are?"

For some reason, the seven old men behind Lark felt strangely familiar.

What's this feeling?

Although it was Vulcan's first time seeing them, he felt indescribable hatred surging from his stomach.

They were probably the most punchable faces he'd seen in his entire life.

Using the corner of his eyes, Vulcan noticed that even his children felt the same way.

"Asking about us the moment we arrived?"

"No manners, as always. Crude, uncultured, barbaric."

"Kakaka, the stupid lizard can't even control his mouth."

"What else do you expect from Dragons? Fucking insufferable bugs."

"Hey, lizards. What do you think? Look! Aren't we handsome?"

"Kekeke, we're gorgeous, without a doubt! And we'll grow even more gorgeous once we master the so-called symmetrical beauty the elves were talking about!"

The three Dragons stood there, stunned by the words that assaulted them.

Who the hell were these people?

And why were they being so rude and arrogant to them the moment they arrived at the Nasty Bucket?

Just like the Coalition Army, the Dragons soon recognized the old men's identity.

Those reptilian eyes that seemed to look down on everyone.

That haughty way of speaking.

There was no mistaking who they belonged to.

"You… You bastard! S-Scylla?!" muttered Agnus in disbelief.

"That's Master Blackie for you, hatchling!"

"You never learn, hatchling. Do you want us to make you bark in front of everyone here?"

Agnus staggered backward. He repeatedly opened and closed his mouth in horror.

"N-No, this… this can't be!" said Agnus.

Vulcan said in a fluster, "What did you do, snake! It's impossible for a Scylla to learn the polymorph spell!"

The seven old men still had their hands behind their backs. It was a trick they learned from the elves in order to look dignified and wise.

"Hah! Don't compare us with you and your meager talent, lizard," said the second head.

"Unlike you, we are gifted," said the sixth head.

"Kehehe, how refreshing," said the fifth head. "If only you could see your faces right now!"

"Should we create a mirror so they could see how stupid they look?"

"Kakaka! Why waste mana for the stupid lizards?"

"No… no way!" shouted Vulcan. His recent fantasies had been shattered into pieces. "King Lark must have helped you! It would have been impossible otherwise!"

Normally, Blackie would have snarled angrily at Vulcan for including their God Evander in this squabble. But this time, it felt exhilarating when they heard those words.

They managed to complete polymorph on their own, after all.

"I didn't help them, Vulcan," said Lark. "They have already achieved complete polymorph by the time I arrived."

That was the finishing blow.

All three Dragons fell silent, unable to understand how the Scylla managed to complete the spell.

What's going on?

Was the snake's talent really far above theirs?

How could they mimic a spell that was supposed to be exclusive to the Dragon Race?

Seeing their disbelief, the seven heads surrounded the three Dragons and started dancing around them. Of course, they didn't forget to rub their achievement right in the Dragons' faces.

"Kehehe! Behold our majestic bodies!"

"Feast upon our polymorph!"

"Look at my beard!"

"This is the difference between us, lizards!"

"You dare compare your lizard brain to our godlike talent? Kakaka!"

"This is why Dragons will never beat us Scyllas!"

"The Dragons are stupid~ The Dragons are stuuuupidd~."

Hearing the commotion, the explorers from Zenith and the witches went out of their rooms and went downstairs. The two groups arrived just in time for the huge revelation.

The explorers whispered to each other.

"That's the seven-headed creature?"

"What was it called again? Sky lair?"

"Holy fuck! It became human?!"

"No shit, what's going on?"

"Why do they look old though?"

"Temporary Boss! They're doing a weird dance! Hahaha!"

"Don't you dare join them, kid!"

"But hey. The clothes they're wearing… are surprisingly simple?"

From the perspective of humans, Blackie was wearing clothes normally worn by commoners. It looked simple even by the explorers' standards.

The third head coughed after hearing the explorer's comment on their clothes. He peeked at Lark, waiting for his reaction. He said embarrassedly, "…We're still undecided on the clothes, God Evander."

Lark smiled in understanding. Whatever they looked like did not matter to him.

"I'm starving," said Lark. "Why don't we order some meals? It'll be a new experience for you, Blackie."

If Blackie still had a tail, it would be wagging right now from glee.

"Yes, God Evander!"

The seven old men immediately stopped dancing. They smirked disparagingly at the Dragons, laughed at their faces, then followed Lark as he sat at the table.

"Kuhum… since I'm the eldest, I'm taking one of the two seats next to God Evander."

Those words started a fierce competition between the seven heads.

"Even if you're the eldest, that isn't fair!"

"That's right! Why do you get to sit next to God Evander!"

"Don't be selfish! There should be rules to something as important as this!"

For several minutes, the seven heads went into a heated debate on who should sit next to Lark.

Lark realized it would take forever if he waited for them to come to a consensus.

Lark randomly chose two people.

"You, and you," said Lark, "sit next to me. The rest can decide by themselves where they wish to sit at the table."

"Yes, God Evander!"

"Kakaka! I'm the chosen one!"

The other heads bit their lips in jealousy, but decided to respect Lark's decision. Those who weren't chosen by Lark sat at their respective seats grumpily.

The seventh head shouted, "Inn server! What are you doing! Take our orders!"

Margaret approached their table to take their orders. But by the time she arrived, the first head said, "Bah! Forget it! Just give us everything!"

In a soft voice, Lark said apologetically to the inn server, "Sorry about this, Margaret. It's their first time. We don't mind waiting, so take your time."

Hearing Lark's gentle voice, Margaret's ears flushed red. She didn't expect someone of Lark's status to remember her name. And she never expected a King to apologize for his subordinates.

"Y-Yes…"

Margaret went back to the counter and relayed the orders to her parents.

The witches, who saw that interaction, were displeased. They started occupying the chairs at the bar counter, sending chilling gazes at Margaret every now and then.

The death stares from the witches ended only after Lark invited them to sit at the table next to theirs.

And soon, the meals arrived at their tables.

And for the first time in its life, Blackie appreciated what human food truly tasted like.

It had eaten human food before, but for some reason, this one tasted far more delicious than anything he'd eaten in his life.

Maybe it was due to the polymorph spell? Maybe it was due to eating together with God Evander at the same table? Blackie didn't know.

Nothing could be more perfect than this moment.

Crestfallen Dragons.

Jealous witches.

Cautious explorers.

Delicious meals.

And a smiling God Evander.

Blackie knew that it would remember this moment for the rest of its remaining life.

***

Time passed by.

The assembly would be held in two days.

All of the key officials who will be attending the assembly have already arrived in Quraso City.

Despite this, they didn't call for Lark right away and instead chose to discuss the situation among themselves first.

Currently gathered in the convening hall of the Five Courts were Senator Sima, the nine other senators, the High Magistrate, the Lord of Five Courts, the five Arbiters, General Marduk, General Astares, the Commander of the Justice Army, the Head of the Magic Institute, several Inspectors, and the leaders of various information groups.

The two remaining Generals of the Republic weren't here, as they were currently stationed at the borders.

From the very first day Lark's group had arrived at Quraso City, the information networks of the Republic had been busily gathering all information related to the Coalition Army.

Without sparing resources, they tried all sorts of means to contact the informants they'd planted in the Empire, the Mullgray Islands, and even the Kingdom of Lukas.

This process involved the consumption of a significant number of resources due to the distance. From couriers, artifacts, information relay groups, to communication devices inaccessible to the public – they burned through any and all means possible to garner as much information in the shortest time possible.

They knew that information about the Coalition Army was what they needed the most right now if they wished to stand on equal grounds against King Lark during their upcoming discussions.

After a week of continuously contacting and mobilizing various groups across the continent, they finally managed to glean key information about Lark and his group.

"It seems everyone is here," said the High Magistrate. "Shall we start? Senator Sima."

Senator Sima said, "Yes. Everyone, the High Magistrate has already agreed to hand to me the authority of leading this convention. If the Lord of Five Courts does not have any issues with this, I wish to start our discussions right away."

The Lord of Five Courts smiled gently, making numerous creases on her face, "I wish to lead the convention, though?"

Hearing this, Senator Sima was flustered. "L-Lord?"

Lord Caliqua normally didn't like leading such a large group. She found it tiresome dealing with what she frequently called 'unruly, corrupt, and problematic bunch.'

During meetings, she would normally stay silent, speaking only when necessary.

Of course, her authority was so great and her presence so domineering that everyone always listened to her.

"Haha, it's a jest, Senator," chuckled Lord Caliqua. "Can't this old bone crack a joke everyone now and then? Go ahead. I'm also handing my authority to you to lead this convention."

Senator Sima felt uncomfortable seeing the eyes of the elderly woman.

The Lord's eyes always looked deep and profound whenever he looked at it.

Senator Sima faked a cough. "Kuhum… then, it's settled."

Senator Sima paused, gazed at the people in the convening hall, and said in a firm voice, "Let's start the discussions about the Coalition Army currently camping outside Quraso."