Intermission

At the sudden change in airflow just past the tip of his snout, the Platinum

Dragonlord, Zeyndelux Vaishion, awoke from his light slumber.

Surprise was the emotion that occupied his awakened mind, or one could

just as easily call it shock.

A dragon's keen perception far surpassed that of a human's. Even if

someone was invisible or disguised with an illusion, a dragon could

immediately sense their presence from a surprisingly long distance—even

while asleep.

And an ordinary dragon's faculties could not even compare with his; he

was a dragonlord. For someone to approach this near to him meant their

abilities had to be unparalleled.

Even he, in all his long life, had only met a handful of people at that level.

The first was a dragonlord like him. The second was no longer of this world:

Ijaniya, an assassin and one of the Thirteen Heroes. And then—

Sensing the presence of the one who came to mind next, Zeyndelux—Zey

—frowned as he slowly opened his eyes.

Dragon eyes could see in the dark as if it were midday.

Standing grandly in the direction from which he felt the presence was an

old woman with an elegant sword at her hip. A smile reserved for someone

who'd pulled off the innocent prank of getting this far without being detected

by the dragon's keen senses was spread across her wrinkled face.

"Long time no see."

Zey eyed the old woman without responding.

Her hair, gone completely white, indicated what a long time she'd been

alive. But something about her face was lively, like a mischievous child's.

Old age had made her thin and frail, but inside she was still the same.

As Zey was comparing her to the image of her in his mind, her eyebrows

suddenly tilted to a dangerous angle.

"What? Has my friend forgotten how to say hello? Good grief, do dragons

go senile, too?"

Zey bared his fangs and chuckled kindly. "Sorry. I was overcome with

emotion at meeting my old friend. I couldn't get the words out." His voice

was far gentler than one would imagine, given his size.

The old woman's response was sarcastic as he expected. "Friend, hmm?

My friend was inside that empty suit of armor… It looks pretty beat up."

When Zey had adventured with the old woman and her friends, he'd been

manipulating a hollow suit of armor from afar. When he revealed the truth,

she was furious that he'd tricked her. She still held a grudge about it and

needled him now and then to this day.

He thought it was about time for her to forgive and forget, but at the same

time, he enjoyed their familiar banter.

Grinning at the same old back-and-forth, he looked at her fingers. "Hmm?

Seems like the ring is missing. What happened to it? I don't think there's

anyone capable of stealing it from you…but that item contains power beyond

the realm of human capability. I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands. I

especially wouldn't want the Slane Theocracy's Black Scripture to get it…"

"Are you trying to change the subject? But good eye. I guess that's a

dragon's perceptiveness when it comes to treasure, hmm? Well, it's fine… I

gave it to a youngster. Rest easy."

This wasn't the kind of item one could give away lightly.

It had been created with wild magic. These days magic was tainted and

warped, so it would be nearly impossible to produce a similar item. As one of

the few stewards of wild magic left, he wanted to ask where the ring was.

But he trusted his friend.

"I see. Well, if it's what you decided, then it's probably all right… By the

way, I heard the rumors. You've been adventuring? Is that why you're here?"

"Certainly not! I just came to visit as a friend. Besides, I retired from

adventuring. Don't make this old lady work anymore. I passed my role on to

the crybaby."

"The crybaby?" Zey pondered who it could be for a moment, and then it

hit him. "You mean…her?"

The old lady grinned when she realized who he meant from the hint of

emotion in his voice. "Yes, the little Imbern girl."

"Ahh." He was astonished. "You're probably the only one who can get

away with calling her that."

"You think so? I'm sure you could even more than me. After all, she and I

are about the same age. You're older, right?"

"Well, yes, but… Still, I can't believe she agreed to be an adventurer!

How did you get her to do it?"

"Ha. She was whining, so I told her if I beat her she had to do whatever I

said. Then I socked it to her!" She cackled as if amused to her very core.

"…You're about the only human who can defeat her." Zey spoke in a

voice that in a human would have indicated a cold sweat and shook his head.

He was recalling the face of another old comrade, one with whom he'd

fought against the evil spirits; she had performed particularly well in the

battle against the bug spirits.

"Well, my friends helped. Plus, knowing undead means knowing how to

defeat them. Even if she can't win with her abilities, she can turn the tables.

Still, the crybaby may be strong, but there's always someone stronger. You,

for instance, could probably defeat her pretty easily. If you weren't

restrained, you'd be the most powerful being in the world."

The old woman shifted her eyes to the silver suit of armor. She'd probably

expected a lighthearted response, but Zey's was more heavy.

"Oh, I don't know. The power that sullies the world might be stirring

again."

There was a hole in the right shoulder of the armor like a spear had

pierced it.

"So the aftershock from a hundred years ago has come? This time it won't

be someone on the world's side, like our leader?"

"It's possible it was just an unlucky encounter, but the true nature of that

vampire has to be right alongside evil. Still, I thought it seemed like the time

had come, but I can't decide if suddenly running into it was bad luck, or if we

are lucky for having confirmed its existence."

"Two sides of the same coin. You can choose whichever you like. So I

asked you once before, but you can't enlist the other dragonlords to help?"

"The answer is the same. Probably not. The only ones still alive in this

world are ones who didn't fight in the battle with the Eight Kings of Avarice.

I highly doubt guys like the Heavenly Dragonlord, just flying around all the

time, or the Deep Darkness Dragonlord, holed up in his huge underground

cave doing who knows what, would lend me their strength."

"Yeah. But there are ones like the Brightness Dragonlord who had

children with humans. If you tried talking to them, something might work

out."

"Maybe…but I don't know. Personally I think asking for her cooperation

is our best bet—the one he told us about who is sleeping on the deepest level

of the city in the sea."

"Waiting in her dreams, was it? If our leader had been able to leave

behind all his knowledge, we would probably have less trouble. He really

died too soon."

"There was nothing we could have done. Even he…I think it was a shock

to kill the player he'd come this far with. I can understand refusing revival.

You were shocked, too, weren't you, Ligritte?"

The old woman got a faraway look in her eyes and sadly nodded her head.

"Well…yeah. Actually…yeah."

"Ligritte, I'm sorry because I know you've quit being an adventurer and

all, but can I ask a favor of you?"

"What might that be? I have an idea, but let's hear it."

Zey was looking at a sword. Its shape wasn't conducive to slashing, but its

edge was peerlessly sharp; nothing anywhere close could be made with

current magic.

That sword—one of the Eight Weapons left behind by the Eight Kings of

Avarice—was the reason Zey couldn't leave this place.

"It's something I've been doing up till now, but I want you to help me. I

want you to collect information about that sword, an item on par with a Guild

Weapon, as well as other special Yggdrasil items, like the Reinforcing Armor

the kingdom adamantite-rank adventurer team Drops of Red possesses…"