Chapter 227

Joshua descended from the sky as gently as a feather, right in the middle of the oh-so-mighty Imperial Knights.

The crowd was utterly silent, as if they were in mourning. A person riding a dragon? Who could have possibly expected it?

“Isn’t that a wyvern?” Porter dumbly muttered. The Imperial Knights gathered around him couldn’t help but latch onto that word.

“No, that’s impossible; the Wyvern Knights are one of Swallow’s finest units.”

“But it’s close enough, isn’t it? It’s hard to tell up there, but it looks like a wyvern; they’re called small dragons for a reason. They say wyverns take over twenty years to tame…”

“Uh… If he could tame something that powerful, shouldn’t he be the deputy commander of the Templars?”

“Right! But there’s no way, right?”

The aristocrats and knights’ murmurs swelled. However, Crevasse was not kind enough to let them run their mouths.

[GRRRRRRRR.] The dragon’s roar rolled over them, quashing their illusions. The weaker knights quaked in their boots or just dropped to their knees. There was no question of the identity of the beast looming over Arcadia anymore: it was a dragon.

“Oh my god…”

“N-No way, he tamed that…?”

The knights of the upper battalions were frozen stiff. The 11th and 12th, on the other hand, were transfixed by Joshua’s visage1. Ranger’s thuggish face looked ready to burst into tears at any moment.

“12th Battalion, attention!”

“11th Battalion, attention!”

Ranger and Cazes shouted at the frozen knights. They drew their swords, blades pointed into the sky, and raised them to their chests in salute. All of them turned to Joshua.

“To the Captain’s safe return! Salute!”

The knights’ cheers shook the sky, proudly proclaiming the return of the commander. The rest of the Imperial Knights, even the top battalion, could only watch.

[GRRRRRRR.] With a roar, the dragon’s shadow was gone—fast as the wind, just as it had come. Joshua looked up, but that dragon was already a distant black dot.

When Joshua stepped forward, the 11th and 12th Battalions opened the way for him; the rest of the Imperial Knights had no choice but to follow suit. His advance was unstoppable, like that of a returning king. Each footfall was a pounding heartbeat in the chests of the 11th and 12th Battalions.

Valmont watched from the side, shaking his head in a disappointed manner.

Joshua didn’t halt until he stood face-to-face with the man who commanded the entirety of the Imperial Knights: Master Rod den Hog.

“Captain Sanders, reporting in,” he said to the flinty-eyed Knight-Commander. “Master Joshua Sanders, captain of the auxiliary battalion, has completed His Majesty’s orders.”

A thrill ran up the backs of the 11th and 12th Battalions—the so-called “auxiliary battalions.” On the other hand, the upper battalion knights like Porter were despondent, and the rest were feeling let down.

Joshua’s return, as varied a response as it received, was a beautiful way to announce the prelude.

“Shouldn’t we go outside? What if the building collapses on us?”

The nobles were becoming agitated.

“They say a dragon’s breath can destroy a city!”

“Shouldn’t we evacuate before we start talking about countermeasures? We’re all going to die!”

“Hah—is there a smart way out of this? Against a dragon…”

“We might be safer here. His Majesty’s palace has been ensconced in several layers of shielding magic over hundreds of years.”

“Hmmmmgh…”

“Let’s wait for now. Since the Dukes and Sir Evergrant already left, why don’t we settle down and figure something out?”

Having collectively decided that waiting was their best option, the nobles began to calm down.

“A dragon…?” A smile danced on Arie’s lips. Countermeasures? Even the Twelve Marquises were gone. I like that. Those clever foxes probably ran as soon as they caught wind of a chance to show off their loyalty. A crisis is an opportunity, as the saying goes. Arie had no doubt that when dragons claimed the skies over the Imperial Palace, they’d look like they were willing to die for their emperor.

But it seemed to Arie that they didn’t understand the Emperor very well. If he was right, the Emperor was not that different from Arie.

“Even after all this, the Emperor didn’t even think about coming back,” Arie muttered to himself. “And the first person to disappear looked like they knew that something was coming…” He glanced at the empty space beside the throne and smiled bitterly. “The Imperial Chief Wizard, Evergrant von Ashwald, is the key to this situation.”

The nobles gathered in a small room near the courtroom. Emperor Marcus stared straight ahead, sparing no attention to the desperate gazes the nobles leveled at him.

“It’s a little early, Your Majesty, but it’s as we expected.”

“Well… Even considering the time, it’s over Arcadia instead of Tripia. This is ‘expected,’ Evergrant?” Emperor Marcus stared down at Evergrant’s bowed head with half-lidded eyes.

“The location is a little different, but we’ll never be able to deny it. Dragons are more selfish and greedy than humans.”

Anyone who heard their conversation would think that they knew exactly what was going on. Just what did they know?

“I angered him by breaking the pact. I even experimented with the dead in his realm—but we haven’t gone too far yet. If it had been a lich or a death knight instead of a ghoul, even an infamously aloof black dragon wouldn’t have been able to ignore it,” Evergrant explained. “No, I must have threatened him in the process of achieving my goals.”

“Enough theory. Just tell me the facts.”

In response, Evergrant politely offered the Emperor an eerie, yellowish-brown horn with a sharp tip.

“An intermediate demon’s horn. The horn is an amalgamation of magi and is the demon’s source of power. Since demons have been gone from this land for ages, I’m certain this will get a reaction.”

“Hmm?”

“If you can get someone’s attention, you’re already halfway there. It’ll probably try to find out where the horn came from, and then I can use my information to carry on the tug of war. That’s my specialty.”

“So, will it be enough to mollify the lizard?”

“I think so—” Huh? Evergrant saw a strange light flash through Emperor Marcus’s eyes and shut his mouth.

“What is it, Evergrant?”

The Emperor’s eyes bored into the wizard, but he didn’t get a chance to reply.

“The dragon is leaviiing!” A cry came from outside the door.

“W-What’s happening?” Evergrant’s calm collapsed. Is that it? “P-Please excuse me, Your Majesty.” Evergrant bowed deeply to Emperor Marcus, who gave him a light nod, and then ran out the door.

“Jacken.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Follow him.”

“I hear and obey.” The head of the Black Wind quietly trailed after Evergrant.

A valet brought Joshua before the throne room’s enormous gates.

He held a finger to his mouth. “The effect is stronger the more attention you attract,” he said. “Can you do it?”

“No, why would I?”

“It’s what a servant does.”

Ash stared at him.

“Shout like I told you earlier. Announce—grandly—where we stand, so that everyone is paying attention to me.”

“With a face like that, I don’t think you need help getting attention.”

“Do your best.”

“Tsk.” Ash pouted as he walked toward the doors.

“I don’t need anything special, just shout as loud as you can—”

“Oh, trust me. I’m a high elf.” Ash paused. A sly smile crept through his unhappy expression. “If I’m doing this, I gotta do it right, don’t I?”

He’d come up with a plan—an excellent way to do what he was asked to do, while still achieving his own satisfaction.

Joshua tilted his head, puzzled. The way Ash was looking at him planted a seed of doubt in his heart.

“…What’s the plan?”

Ash eagerly threw his head back and shouted at the top of his lungs: “The dragon is leaviiing!” He lifted his foot and kicked the door open. “Get outta the way! Joshua Sanders comin’ through, ya stupid shitheads!”2

Joshua’s jaw dropped.