...Did we just run into it...?

A cold sweat slowly seeped down my back.

I couldn't help but remember. The time when I, as Blythe, participated in an ancient dragon hunt.

The dragon scholars from various nations wracked their brains, formulating a meticulous plan. Months were spent developing ballistae specifically designed for slaying ancient dragons, as well as forming a coalition army. We lay in wait, ambushed it, and only then were we able to keep casualties to that number.

Are we going to fight that thing again? In this worst-case scenario?

But Squads Four and Five were being chased by the dragon—or perhaps fleeing from it.

Not even Void Scale could protect them. If there wasn't at least one person with knowledge and experience in dragon hunting, whether fighting or escaping, it would be hopeless.

Damn it. There's no time to think.

I lifted my gaze.

“Ilga. Lead everyone back to the surface. Inform Lili. I'm going after the dragon.”

“No, I refuse. A noble's duty is to protect the commoners. I told you that already. I’m going in for the rescue.”

Frustrated, I shouted.

“You idiot! This isn't the time for arguments—!”

“Bernald, take Squads One and Two and head straight for the surface. I’ll go with Eremia.”

Bernald hesitated for just a moment, then nodded.

“...Understood. Leave this to me. I’ll take Instructor Ituka and return immediately.”

Bernald's tone was faster than usual.

Ilga nodded.

“I’m counting on you.”

These fools! Do they not understand the situation?!

If these tracks belong to an ancient dragon, then even the ‘War Maiden’ alone wouldn’t be able to overturn the odds.

“No! Let me be clear—you’ll only be a burden! Everyone, go back and get Lili as soon as possible—!”

Ilga calmly interrupted my words.

“Isn’t this precisely the time we shouldn’t waste arguing? I will not back down, Eremia. Never. You understand why—I’ve told you everything.”

He placed a hand over his chest and looked at me firmly.

“I won’t run from my duty. No matter what happens, no matter who the opponent is.”

“Even so, you can’t! For the sake of your parents, you have to—”

I bit my lip and corrected myself.

“You have to outlive him!!”

“If you’re just going to stand here yelling, I’ll be going ahead. Now is the time for a noble to fulfill his duty. If I turn my back here, I won’t be able to hold my head high as the heir of the Freiges family. That’s not happening.”

“Tch—!”

Damn it! No time!

I clawed at my head and shouted at Ilga once more.

“Fine, do whatever you want! …But know this—your opponent this time isn’t one I can protect you from.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.”

Why the hell is this damn noble smiling?

I turned back to Oujin.

“Oujin. Sorry, but you’re coming with me.”

“I know. I was planning on it from the start.”

The ideal outcome would be to take advantage of the dragon’s opening, retrieve Squads Four and Five, and escape. But in the closed environment of a dungeon, securing an escape route is incredibly difficult. If we rush into a dead end, we’ll either be crushed or burned to ash.

In that regard, Oujin’s mapping ability will keep us from getting lost.

And more importantly—

If the worst happens and we’re forced to fight, we’ll need something capable of breaking through the dragon’s unbelievably tough scales.

Back when I was Blythe, I could forcefully crack open dragon scales and pierce the flesh, even at the cost of ruining my claymore and zweihander. But with Eremia’s body, that’s absolutely impossible.

The only thing that might be able to pierce those thick scales is a rock-cutting strike. But unfortunately, a wakizashi wouldn’t cut deep enough. Depending on the scale’s thickness, it might not even reach the flesh.

As much as I hate to admit it, whether we fight or flee, Oujin is the trump card this time.

“Sorry, Oujin. Normally, I wouldn’t ask a student for help in slaying a dragon, but I can’t do this alone.”

“Haha, you’re talking like a grizzled old veteran again, Eremia.”

Damn it.

I must be so on edge that I’m slipping back into Blythe’s mindset.

“Yeah... You’re right. Let’s go.”

“Anytime.”

Nodding to each other, Oujin and I took off at full speed in pursuit of the dragon. A little later, I heard Ilga’s footsteps following, but I didn’t have the time to care.

I planned to run fast enough to leave him behind—but at ten years old, Eremia’s legs simply weren’t capable. A five-year age difference was too much to ignore.

At the very least, I couldn’t afford to lag behind Oujin or Ilga, so I discarded my gladius.

As I ran, Oujin asked,

“You sure? I can carry it for you.”

“No need. It’s heavy, and besides, it’s just a dull training weapon. It wouldn’t do anything.”

My body felt slightly lighter.

The farther we ran, the more ogre corpses we saw—not ones slain by Squads Four and Five, but ones that had been trampled by something massive.

Oujin glanced back at Ilga and warned,

“Ilga, don’t trip on the blood or meat. It’s only going to get worse from here.”

“G-got it.”

Right. I was used to running over blood and flesh, but this was Ilga’s first time in a situation like this.

It was a relief that Oujin remained calm.

“Scared?”

“...Well, a little. But I’m going to be a knight. I can’t afford to be cowardly.”

“Ilga. Being afraid isn’t a bad thing. Dying meaninglessly is far worse. That only leaves grief behind. If you’re going to follow us, remember that.”

“I understand. No—I already know that. More than enough.”

At the same time, I was surprised to realize that Oujin had experience with running through blood. Just what had his father, the ‘Sword Demon,’ put him through?

His expression gave nothing away.

After running for a while, we reached a fork in the path.

There were no maps carved into the walls. Of course not.

Oujin and Ilga, who had been in the lead, stopped.

“Which way?”

“The dragon’s tracks go both ways. Is this its territory?”

Arriving slightly behind, I crouched, bringing my nose close to the ground, and pointed left.

“This way. Follow me.”

Without hesitation, I sprinted ahead. Oujin and Ilga followed without a word. There was no time to explain, but they trusted me implicitly.

The scent of blood and entrails lingered on the ground.

Most likely from ogres. Even if the dragon’s blood had dried, leaving no visible red trail, the stench couldn’t be erased—not if it had passed through recently.

In other words—

“—It’s close. Stay alert. Slow down and keep quiet.”

“Got it.”

“U-understood.”

The passageway ended in an open, pitch-black space.

The moment we stepped in, we gasped.

Before us lay a grotesque scene that defied belief.