At night, in the forest opposite the Humans’ defenses, stood a gloomy, shadow-dark castle.

The place reeked of death and blood. White bones lay piled around the shabby-looking castle, making it clear that its master had blood on his hands.

A handsome man with delicate, feminine features sat upon the throne inside the castle. He wore a perfectly tailored suit and gently swirled a stemmed glass in his right hand. If not for the corpses of Human men and women piled at his feet, he might have looked like a perfectly courteous gentleman.

Two rows of all kinds of monsters stood before him. A short goblin knelt at his feet, trembling.

“So your goblin legion ran back here because of one little girl? Then what use are you?”

As he studied the fresh red blood in his glass, the man spoke in a light, almost airy voice. He sounded as if he barely had the strength to speak, but to the goblin, each word rang out like thunder.

“No! Baron! She was a human archmage! We couldn’t possibly defeat her!”

The goblin roared, desperately fighting for the last sliver of a chance to live. None of the monsters around it dared plead on its behalf. They knew that once Baron had said those words, the poor goblin was as good as dead.

“Take it away.”

Sure enough, the lofty Baron waved a hand, and two werewolves came in and dragged the goblin—now limp as mud—out of the room. It kept begging for mercy as they hauled it away, its shrill screams echoing through the castle hall. Only when the door slammed shut did the desperate cries finally cease.

“A human archmage, huh? Now that’s interesting.”

The Baron paid no attention to the goblin’s screams. He rubbed his smooth chin, looking thoughtful.

“Allow me to congratulate you on another battle achievement, Baron!”

A tall, burly werewolf stepped forward, bowing with the utmost respect. It was three times the size of the Baron seated on the throne, but it knew that if its master truly wanted it dead, it wouldn’t last three moves.

“Congratulations on another battle achievement, Baron!”

With the werewolf leading the way, the many monsters under the man’s command offered their congratulations in unison.

Among the dark races, killing a powerful Human earned battle achievements. Killing a young genius like this earned even more.

“I’ve always rather liked Human geniuses. Especially the women.”

The Baron basked in his underlings’ flattery and licked his lips as if savoring a memory. “These geniuses are so arrogant and conceited. They have no idea what dangers are hidden in this world.”

At that, the Baron seemed to suddenly remember something. He stood up, his expression turning wistful.

“Take the lovely little girl locked in the dungeon, for example. She’s not even sixteen, yet she’s an Earth Knight. Give her a few more years, and even I might not be able to defeat her. What a pity she won’t get the chance.”

The man kept talking as he walked, then suddenly turned around to face all his subordinates.

“You know, Human flesh and blood really are delicious. They’re a treat for the tongue and the touch alike.”

He let out a string of strange laughter. The somewhat savage grin made his otherwise handsome face look eerie.

“The girl in the dungeon has been begging me to kill her, hasn’t she? Now she can finally be free. Here—take this knife and kill her. We’ll have new toys soon enough.”

The Baron’s smile faded. He spoke calmly, tossed a knife down to his subordinates, and left.

After the Baron was gone, the monsters exchanged glances. None of them wanted the job. That girl had suffered so horribly that even they, monsters though they were, couldn’t bear to watch it a second time.

……

Night fell. Some of the villagers were burying their fallen companions, while others were preparing a grand feast.

Don’t be surprised to see this. Here, mourning a companion’s death while drinking heavily to celebrate surviving another day had long since become the norm for everyone who lived here.

Everyone gathered around the bonfire, sitting beneath the stars as they chatted about this and that. Sometimes they laughed; sometimes they grew solemn. As for Lamia? She’d sneaked a sip of the village’s homemade liquor out of sheer curiosity and had already passed out inside Alina’s backpack.

“Village Chief, if it’s so dangerous here, why don’t you move farther into Human territory?”

Alina sat beside the bonfire. Its rosy flames shone on her silver mask, giving it an almost Sacred look.

At Alina’s question, the Village Chief and the villagers seated with them grew dejected. Kyle, meanwhile, lifted his bottle and took several long gulps of liquor. Alina began to wonder if she’d said something wrong.

“Sigh… To be honest, my lord, some of us were exiled here as criminals, and the rest are their descendants. We can never pass through Asaint Fortress.”

The Village Chief sighed heavily, his face etched with the years.

Alina knew of Asaint Fortress. It stood across a mountain range and was the largest border fortress of the Humans.

It was home to a great many well-organized Human legions, along with plenty of powerful Human defenders. Asaint Fortress was like a barrier: beyond it lay the cruel, frigid Outer Domain, while within its walls stretched a prosperous, peaceful Human world.

“I see.”

Alina nodded. She’d heard that the Human kingdoms punished criminals this way. She just hadn’t realized the conditions in the exile lands were so harsh.

“Most of the people who were first exiled here are dead by now. Everyone living here today is descended from those original criminals and their families. Does one person’s crime really have to go unpaid for a whole lifetime? Must their children and grandchildren keep paying for it forever?!”

Maybe he’d had too much to drink. Kyle shouted out his resentment. Every single person in their village had been born in this hellhole, unable to return to Human territory for their entire lives. Human society would never accept them. They could only live like lost souls.

“Kyle, you’ve had too much to drink!”

Seeing Kyle’s flushed face, the Village Chief couldn’t help warning him.

At the Village Chief’s reminder, Kyle fell silent again. He sat by himself, clutching his bottle and drinking away his troubles.

For a while, a gloom settled over the entire feast.

A little red-haired girl broke the mood. She came running over from nearby with a cheerful smile. There was no resentment in her eyes, only affection and the pure innocence of a child.

With everyone watching, she came up to Alina and rose onto her tiptoes, trying her best to offer her a piece of freshly roasted meat. With an innocent smile, she said, “Big sister, this is the first piece that finished roasting! It’s really good. I spent ages picking it out for you…”

But before she could finish, she lost her balance and fell. The roasted meat in her hands dropped straight into the fire.

Sitting on the ground, the girl watched the flames slowly swallow the meat. Her lip trembled, and then she burst into tears. She’d spent so long picking that piece out! She hadn’t even let herself have any!

The girl cried, but everyone else laughed. It started with a soft chuckle from Alina. Then the villagers began laughing too, until soon everyone was in fits. Kyle laughed as he drank, liquor streaming down his face. No one could tell whether what trickled from the corner of his mouth was liquor or tears.

That was right. What was the point of worrying about all that? They’d survived another day. They had such an adorable child among them, and they still had a future. As long as they were alive, there was hope!

Hearing everyone laugh, the girl stopped crying. She wiped her tears and looked around curiously, unsure why they were laughing.

“There, there. Let big sister fix it for you.”

Alina patted the girl’s head, then beckoned with one hand. The piece of roasted meat that had fallen into the fire floated up in front of her. Without Alina making another move, it slowly returned to the way it had been before. The villagers watched in amazement.

“Here, it’s yours again.”

Alina speared the meat on a twig and was about to give it back to the little girl.

Just then, a cold voice with a hint of urgency came from nearby.

“Hill, why are you wandering off by yourself again? Get over here!”

At the call, the red-haired girl named Hill answered with a quiet “Okay,” then trudged over to the speaker.

“Please forgive my little sister for troubling you, my lord.”

The words were respectful, but there was no hiding the wariness in her voice.

Only then did Alina take a proper look at the person shielding the red-haired girl behind her.

They were clearly biological sisters. They both had red hair and faces that looked eighty percent alike. The older sister’s features were more mature and beautiful, while little Hill’s were still childlike.

The girl speaking wore shabby clothes, and there was dust on her face, but none of it could hide her peerless beauty. Her bright eyes watched Alina warily, as though she thought Alina might harm them.

“It’s all right. She wasn’t any trouble.”

Alina tried to soften her voice, hoping to ease the girl’s inexplicable hostility. Unfortunately, it did no good.

“Thank you for your forgiveness, my lord.”

The girl ignored Alina’s words. She gave a stiff bow, then led Hill away from the crowd.

“What a strange girl.”

Alina watched her leave, a question mark practically hanging over her head.

What Alina didn’t know was that the moment the girl turned away, Lamia stirred in the backpack as if she’d been jolted awake. She suddenly opened her eyes, sensing a call from the deepest part of her bloodline.

There was no mistaking it. That was Doragon blood!