Chapter Index





    Ch.142Chapter 142: Reminiscence, Memories (1)

    #

    As evening approached the infirmary of Night Haven.

    While Cal Lanos was spending a tender moment with Liliansis Proxian.

    In another world existing behind the material realm where those two were.

    Fafnir, the master of this space, was lost in old thoughts and memories while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

    “…”

    After removing his helmet and instantly erasing the scars on his face.

    Various emotions bloomed in Fafnir’s expression as he silently stared at the mirror.

    It was a form tinged with a haziness that could be defined as nostalgia and longing.

    Had there been no other matters, he would have surely stood there for hours, immersed in all sorts of contemplations while looking at his physical body regenerated after so long.

    But while facing the mirror, he let out a soft groan.

    “Nngh…”

    As Fafnir stretched, from his mouth came.

    “…I should prepare to work.”

    The word “work” popped out.

    To carry this out, he turned away from his reflection and walked toward the throne where he had discarded his helmet.

    Why would he seek the helmet to cover his face again after indulging in nostalgia while checking his bare face for once?

    This could be explained by the quiet words from Fafnir’s mouth as he walked.

    “…It wouldn’t be appropriate to show this face right now.”

    While this alone might be difficult to understand.

    “How startled would that youngster be if he suddenly saw a face so similar to his own when he comes here to train?”

    His subsequent words excellently filled in the missing explanation.

    The resemblance wasn’t mentioned without reason.

    With his intimidating helmet removed and his bare face revealed, Fafnir.

    Bore many similarities to the descendant of Lanos, whom he called a youngster and helped train here every night.

    From the red hair that contributed to others’ assessment that he wasn’t very Lanos-like.

    To his facial features that became smooth and clean after erasing all the scars that had covered his face with just a gesture.

    “Well, a careful examination would reveal the differences.”

    As Fafnir slowly continued walking toward the throne, he took the opportunity to make a comparison.

    Between his own appearance in human form that he was seeing after a long time in the mirror.

    And the appearance of Lanos’s descendant, whom even he thought resembled him at first glance.

    While there were indeed many similarities, as he walked and thought slowly, there were certainly differences too.

    Compared to the youngster whose fierce impression, partly due to his red hair that others found quite fierce and which contributed to lowering evaluations of his original appearance.

    After erasing the scars that had covered his face when he first revealed it with a single gesture.

    Fafnir’s impression, with his now smooth face fully exposed, was stronger in gentleness than expected, making it an impression likely to gain favor from others.

    …Though when he deliberately frowned while looking in the mirror, the fierce aura that emanated was incomparably more intense than what Lanos’s youngster showed when he frowned, whom Fafnir had teasingly advised not to frown.

    While Lanos’s youngster’s default expression was stiff and rough, even though it had improved lately.

    Fafnir’s expression as he observed his face in the mirror had a default impression that could evoke favor from others, which was certainly a clear difference.

    Besides the difference in impression.

    Unlike Fafnir, who emitted a red light the same color as his hair.

    Lanos’s youngster whom he would meet had black eyes.

    Even with the eyes of a dragon who had lived for an immeasurably long time before losing his body and dwelling in a sword, spending countless years in slumber.

    A span of time that ordinary humans living normal lives couldn’t even imagine.

    He didn’t know what kind of unexpected troubles the young man had experienced to develop such a harsh expression.

    But focusing solely on the eyes rather than the expression, they were impressively calm and notable eyes.

    Yes, truly impressive eyes.

    Though slightly different.

    Like the eyes of someone whom Fafnir himself had described as beautiful.

    “…I’ve arrived.”

    As he continued his thoughts and steps without pause, he suddenly reached his destination, the throne.

    On the throne lay the helmet of the Red Dragon Armor that he had discarded.

    To prevent Lanos’s descendant, who would visit this place shortly, from being startled by his face.

    “I should put it on for now.”

    Fafnir’s hand, as he slowly opened his mouth, reached for the helmet placed on the throne.

    As he had felt when removing the helmet.

    The sensation of this armor, crafted from his own scales, had many peculiar aspects even when felt with a human-form body.

    It contained a warmth close to body temperature that metal could never possess, making it hard to call it metal.

    Yet it was too hard to be considered biological tissue made of blood and flesh—these two contradictions made touching these scales quite awkward even for him.

    “…I can somewhat understand why humans flinch when they see this armor.”

    If even he, the creator of the armor and the provider of its materials, felt awkward while savoring the sensation of the armor after a long time.

    It made sense that humans who saw his armor without any preparation might feel fear and hostility, a thought that was about to cross his mind.

    “…Still, I won’t change it.”

    The resolution in Fafnir’s words, as he frowned and uttered this bitter statement, was firm.

    “Come to think of it, even Lumen disliked this armor. She asked where I had sold my usual aesthetic sense when making armor from my own scales.”

    A thousand years ago, even a comrade with whom he had fought alongside, developing both fond and bitter feelings, had been appalled by the armor’s appearance.

    But Fafnir had no intention of changing the appearance of this armor made from his scales, no matter what anyone said.

    “I need something to remind me of my original form since I can never return to it.”

    From his mouth came a valid reason that anyone would acknowledge, one too weighty to be dismissed lightly, as he grumbled lightly.

    As Fafnir gazed wistfully at the helmet in his hand…

    “I wonder if I should prepare to live a life similar to humanity, just with an immensely long lifespan, even if I regain life.”

    For some unknown reason, he was in a position where he couldn’t return to his original form, which was said to have covered entire mountain ranges with its majesty according to legends.

    “Sigh…”

    After letting slip an important statement with a sigh, Fafnir removed his left hand from the helmet and gently stroked the nape of his neck.

    Although he had demonstrated the skill to erase all scars on his face without a trace with a single gesture.

    The distinct scar on his neck—or perhaps more accurately, a mark of severance—even when touched by the mist-like energy in his left hand that had erased other wounds…

    “Hmm… it still doesn’t work.”

    It remained unremoved.

    The fact that a wound on his own body wouldn’t disappear was certainly an important factor that would cause anyone to feel negative emotions.

    “Well… having survived death, I should be grateful for this much.”

    Fafnir’s expression, as he continued to stroke his neck without showing any particular emotion, revealed no trace of negativity.

    “I should be thankful, actually.”

    To the one who stopped me like this.

    Unlike his previous statement, Fafnir muttered in a voice so small that even someone standing right beside him wouldn’t hear, then returned his left hand to the helmet.

    “Well, shall I put it on?”

    Fafnir, who had been merely handling the helmet, finally lifted it and put on the Red Dragon Armor helmet that he had removed for quite some time.

    As the helmet completely covered his face.

    From the eye area, which was uniquely decorated to secure visibility.

    Wooong-!!

    Along with a loud resonating sound that arose.

    Paaat-!!

    As a bright red light burst forth.

    Red color briefly dwelled in this space where color did not exist.

    “I’ll show my bare face to the youngster later.”

    Until then, I’ll train him harshly in this armor until he becomes a proper hero.

    From Fafnir’s lips, as he muttered the latter part in a low voice.

    “Hahahahaha.”

    A hearty laugh burst forth.

    And so Fafnir began to contemplate how to push Lanos’s descendant, who would soon come to him of his own accord, to grow further today.

    Until he faced an unexpected situation due to several variables that occurred today.

    He had believed without doubt that thanks to his brief rest, he could recover his physical condition immediately and begin training.

    #

    A problem arose.

    “…Huh?”

    As always, Fafnir was preparing to welcome the youngster who would come to this mist-covered space.

    He was fully prepared to use just enough force to not kill the youngster.

    But the mana that should have filled his lungs through simple breathing, without resorting to cumbersome methods like the breathing techniques humans use.

    When Fafnir realized that not even a bit was accumulating in his lungs.

    “…Just because I had a scuffle with that mere Time Demon God, this doesn’t work?”

    A voice full of bewilderment emerged without restraint.

    His casual mention of the name of a Demon God, one of the instigators of a great war that would be recorded in this world’s history, was impressive.

    But more prominent was his voice of confusion at the realization that the circulation of fighting energy, which should have occurred as naturally as breathing, wasn’t functioning properly.

    Only then did Fafnir belatedly realize that the red fighting energy that had been softly emanating from his body had significantly weakened.

    Wondering if there was something wrong with his body, he hastily examined his condition.

    Fortunately, there was no major abnormality in his body.

    It was merely that recovering took more time than he had anticipated due to his forceful extraction of his true form’s power after so long.

    “…Phew.”

    From Fafnir’s mouth, as he exhaled a sigh tinged with relief and various other emotions.

    “This won’t do today.”

    After deciding to train Lanos’s descendant harshly, a voice containing the judgment to skip training for the first time without missing a single day emerged.

    “Tsk…”

    Although it was an unavoidable decision, he also made a sound of clicking his tongue, clearly showing how much he disliked it.

    Thus, before the youngster came to where he was, Fafnir decided to send a notification that today’s training would be postponed as they needed to discuss important matters.

    Tak-!!

    As he lightly flicked his right middle and index fingers together, a transparent image-like thing that had helped him observe the outside world earlier appeared before his eyes.

    It was also the only tool needed to communicate with the outside from this small universe prepared exclusively for Fafnir, completely isolated from the material world.

    Now, if he projected the thought (念) he had infused here, he could see the youngster diligently preparing for another day of training…

    -…Being in Cal’s arms like this, I think all the wounds I received today will heal in just a day.

    …was what he expected, but the scene reflected in the image exceeded Fafnir’s expectations.

    “…”

    Crack

    For some unknown reason, strength was unconsciously applied to his right hand, which he had lightly clenched after flicking his fingers.

    Seeing Lanos’s descendant about to raise his hand to stroke the head of Proxian’s descendant, who had snuggled into his arms affectionately.

    Focusing more on the woman before him than on today’s training.

    “…You’re having fun, Inseok.”

    Fafnir said one thing to the youngster in a voice that desperately suppressed the urge to click his tongue.

    For a moment, he felt the impulse to forcibly summon the youngster and vent his anger under the guise of training, regardless of his physical condition.

    ‘I’m being petty.’

    Knowing well that it was unnecessary pettiness, Fafnir didn’t choose to throw such a tantrum.

    -Fafnir, actually…

    Toward Lanos’s descendant, who was about to say something upon hearing his voice.

    “Something came up, so what we planned to do today is postponed. Both the sparring and the conversation.”

    He simply conveyed the cancellation of today’s schedule in a voice that suppressed both calmness and fatigue.

    Even though he was only projecting his voice into the disconnected world, he could feel a slight fatigue.

    As he continued speaking, Fafnir could clearly realize that his current choice was the right one.


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