Chapter 48 _ The Black-Flamed Wyrm, or the Cry of Solitude
—Long ago—
A memory from the days when I was still a hatchling.
My name is Loki.
Back when the skin of my wings was still thin,
when all I could manage was to cough smoke from deep in my throat.
On that day, I broke the law of my kind—
the law our elders had repeated until it carved itself into our bones.
“Do not approach the lands of humans.
They stain their souls for the sake of desire.”
I knew those words well.
And yet, curiosity—
that most poisonous of instincts—
led my young self deeper into the forest.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves.
Flowers of colors I had never seen before bloomed freely.
Small animals leapt and played.
I was so entranced that I failed to notice it—
The ground beneath my feet collapsed.
Vines woven with cunning intent—
a trap.
I was hoisted into the air, dangling upside down.
I bit and clawed, but the vines would not give.
They were reinforced with magic.
Then came the torchlight.
“Look! We caught a baby dragon!”
“Lucky day! This’ll make us dragon slayers!”
Vulgar laughter.
The cold ring of steel leaving its sheath.
Fear froze me.
So this is how I die…
“—Wait.”
A small voice, yet firm and unyielding, cut through the noise.
A single girl stepped forward.
“You… you’re the daughter of the Divine Wolf!?
Don’t come closer!”
The humans fled in panic, scrambling over one another.
The girl looked up at me, her eyes soft.
“Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
With a casual gesture of her finger,
the unbreakable vines dissolved like heat haze.
I fell to the ground.
“…Why?” I asked, my voice trembling.
“Why help me? I am a dragon.”
“Why?” she replied, tilting her head.
“…Because you were in trouble.”
As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“…Who are you?”
“Me? I am Frey.”
Frey—
The name of the one who saved my life.
After that, I sought her out.
She was always alone.
No one approached her.
All feared her.
My kin warned me again and again.
Do not approach humans. It is forbidden.
And yet—
I want to repay my debt.
I gathered my courage and went to her dwelling.
“…Who’s there?”
It seemed she didn’t even recognize me at first.
To her, saving a hatchling had meant nothing special.
From that day on, we played together until sunset, every day.
“Loki! Will you come again tomorrow?”
“Yes. You are my friend.”
Friend—
But in time—
That friendship turned to tragedy.
Humans began slaughtering my kin’s hatchlings.
Traps.
Encirclement.
Laughter.
Just like what they had done to me.
Hatred scorched my heart.
“Loki… please… stop…”
Frey tried to stop me.
But I could not.
I kept betraying my savior.
And that guilt only twisted me further.
I grew tired.
So very tired.
And so—
＊ ＊ ＊
“Haah… haah…”
Hans was bent over, catching her breath.
We had found a suitable cave to camp for the night on our way to Dragon Breath Village,
and decided to rest there.
After dinner,
the sword training Iris and I had continued as a daily routine resumed.
As Iris practiced exchanges with Hans using wooden swords,
Hans began to lose composure under Iris’s pressure.
“Fred! Fred!
At this point, only you can handle this girl!”
“Are you all right, Hans?” Iris asked, concerned.
“…I hate to admit it,” Hans said, exasperated,
“but this really is talent, isn’t it?”
“In such a short time… especially her use of aura in swordplay…
The confidence she gained from defeating the Sphinx has accelerated her growth explosively.”
She was no longer a princess who merely needed protection.
“Aaaah!”
A distant, anguished scream echoed through the night.
“…Did you hear that?” I asked.
“Yes,” Iris nodded uneasily.
“That way,” Wilfred said, already standing.
We drove the carriage toward the sound.
Deeper into the woods, away from the main road—
what the torchlight revealed was grotesque.
A young dragon, suspended in a vine trap,
beaten mercilessly, unable to resist.
Around it stood several shabby adventurers
and an overweight merchant, laughing loudly.
“What do you think you’re doing!?” Wilfred roared.
“…Huh? Who the hell are you?”
Wilfred seized one adventurer by the collar, his voice calm yet crushing.
“I asked what you are doing.
Answer.”
“T-this is a dragon hunt!”
The merchant stepped forward, smiling thinly.
“As you can see, it’s a Dragon Hunt Tour.
These fine people will become glorious dragon slayers.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” I shouted.
“Killing a trapped, helpless baby dragon—
what kind of dragon slayer does that make you!?”
“There are no rules,” the merchant replied smoothly.
“Kill a dragon, and you are a dragon slayer. Simple.”
“Are you going to interfere?
I can tell you’d crush us in a fight,
but I’ve invested money into this tour—
traps, fees collected from participants.
If you reimburse us, we’ll withdraw.”
He grinned.
“Or…
are you righteous heroes prepared to kill humans?”
I clenched my fists.
“…I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
“I can’t ignore this.
I know what it’s like to be surrounded and abused.”
“Fine,” Wilfred said firmly.
“You’re the leader. Decide.”
“…How much?”
“Five adventurers at 1,000 Fanan each—5,000.
Traps cost 3,000.
Total: 8,000.”
“…Wait.
Why don’t you refund the adventurers?
We’ll just pay for the traps.”
“I am a merchant,” he said coldly.
“No profit means no deal.
8,000—or nothing.”
“…Fine.”
I handed over gems equivalent to the amount.
“Pleasure doing business,” he smirked.
“You’re lucky, little lizard.”
They left.
As Frey healed the wounded hatchling,
the air suddenly froze.
A colossal shadow descended from the sky.
Black-silver wings.
Eyes like molten magma.
A presence that crushed the soul.
The Wicked Dragon—Loki.
“…You saved my kin,”
a voice like thunder spoke.
Frey stepped forward calmly.
“It has been a long time, Loki.”
“…Frey?”
His gaze turned toward me.
“You are her friend?”
“No,” Frey said firmly.
“He is my friend.”
Loki laughed softly.
“…Frey… with a friend of her own.
Interesting.”
He looked at me.
“Your name?”
“Mario.”
“Mario…
I will remember it.”
With a breath, he incinerated the trap,
then took the hatchling and vanished into the sky.
Frey watched him go—
her eyes filled with nostalgia and sorrow.
“…Let’s go,” I said quietly.
“Dragon Breath Village is close now.”
