Chapter 44

"First Prince! Come out and die!"

Aile slammed open the iron-banded oak doors of the royal palace. Guards lay strewn across the floor—casualties of Ruri’s magic. Any spell recorded in her grimoire manifested exactly as written.

"I know the way to the throne room. Follow me!" Aile led the charge, striding unchallenged into the grand hall.

Traditionally, Heroes and their companions entered the palace for royal commissions or hard-won audiences.

Leon? He’d carved his path here like a villain.

"Does Leon care that much about that dragon?" Naya asked. They’d just spotted one circling above the palace.

"I do too," Aile shot back, hurrying forward. "The Dragonflame Kings—one of the Four Great Kingdoms—once tamed dragons as weapons. But Sorcerers wiped them out five centuries ago during their invasion. To see a living one today..."

"Not even dragons could stop the Sorcerers from conquering the continent."

"Right. The Dragonflame bloodline suffered most. Once rulers of vast lands, they’ve been confined to Dragon Rock Island for five hundred years."

"I care about who’s controlling it," Leon cut in. "Can the Adventurer Guild—or the First Prince’s men—command dragons?"

Aile hesitated. "No idea! Doesn’t matter! If that dragon lands, I’ll crush it!"

They rushed down the opulent corridor toward the throne room. Three paths split ahead.

"Middle one!" Aile declared without pause. "Left leads to the banquet hall. Right to the Silver Spire—"

As they passed the left fork, Naya glimpsed a shadow darting toward the banquet hall. Danger—! Her Shield of Light flared too late. Instinctively, she threw herself before Leon—

"NAYA— YOU—!" Leon whirled. An arrow struck her—then transformed into a silver Vector Arrow mid-impact, reversing its trajectory.

"Are you insane?! I can heal if I’m hit! What about you?!"

Naya gasped for breath. She hadn’t thought—just moved. The arrow’s transformation stunned her.

*That was close… I’m okay…! Light… Aio… still with me…! I can always shield Leon…*

"Who’s hiding there?!" Leon drew his sword—

BOOM!

Dragonfire blasted through a carved window above, melting the iron chains of a chandelier. The massive candle-laden fixture and burning beams crashed down, splitting the group. Flames roared between them: Leon and Aile on one side; Naya and Ruri on the other.

"Damn dragon!"

The beast kept breathing fire through the walls, sealing the divide.

"We have to get them across!" Leon yelled.

"Don’t wait for us!" Naya shouted through the blaze. "Go! Stop the First Prince!"

Leon hesitated. Leaving Naya felt like tearing out his own heart.

"Trust her!" Aile urged. "We lure the dragon away, or they’re trapped!"

No choice.

"Go, Leon! I’ll find you again…!" Naya’s eyes stayed locked on the shadowed corridor. The old, timid her would never have spoken with such certainty.

Leon sprinted after Aile toward the throne room. True to form, the dragon tracked them through the windows, reducing the entire corridor to ashes.

"Now what?" Ruri asked Naya.

"Someone’s coming."

A golden-haired girl stepped forward.

"Endless Arrows" Aile—challenge rating: Adventurer Guild’s strongest squad.

"So you’re the ones plotting against His Majesty?" Aile’s beauty masked unfathomable power. No visible weapons. No bow. Where had that arrow come from?

"I won’t let you stop Leon!" Naya spread her arms, shielding Ruri.

The petite girl’s defiant stance almost made Aile laugh.

"Just a Priestess..."

Meanwhile, dragonfire chased Leon and Aile to the corridor’s end. From the last surviving chandelier, a figure dropped! Aile raised her mithril shield—CLANG!—a greatsword slammed against it.

"You control the dragon?" Aile glared at the red-haired knight locked in the shield-sword stalemate.

"Dragonmother" Tridiss—challenge rating: Adventurer Guild’s strongest squad.

"Leon! Handle the dragon and her! Get to the throne room! Stop the First Prince!"

"So you’re the Holy Knight of Aio," Tridiss sneered. "Betting that man can defeat His Majesty? Naive. Let’s wager how many seconds he lasts against Lusia."

Aile’s lips curled. "I believe in him."

At the corridor’s end, Leon shoved open the final iron-banded door. Beyond lay the Summer Hall—vast and hollow as a cave.

A blue-haired girl blocked the sole path to the throne room. Barely 160cm tall. Frail. Almost delicate.

*The First Prince’s last line of defense?* Leon thought. *She’s… kind of pretty.*

"Names before blades," she said. "I am Lusia of the King’s Right Hand. The formidable."

"Leon Brad."

Lusia scoffed.

"Harm my King? Over my dead body."

Scribe Benjamin lurked behind an armor display, unnoticed.

"Leon… Brad… is it?" He scribbled the name on his wrist.

*Once the Priestess dies, you’re next.* He flipped his crumpled ledger, waiting for the blood-red name of death to appear.

*Why hasn’t the Priestess died yet…?*