Ch.143Chapter 143: Reminiscence, Memories (2)

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Fafnir, who belatedly realized that his physical condition was not normal,

After informing Karl Lanos, whom he called “the youngster,” that there would be no training today so he could rest,

Pushing his point wasn’t particularly difficult.

Toward the youngster whose dubious expression was clearly visible through the video call after hearing his announcement,

“…Understood?”

He merely growled lightly in a low voice.

-Tomorrow, I’ll face you in perfect condition.

The youngster’s respectful reply came immediately, so what more was there to do?

When the other party yielded so willingly, Fafnir had no need to speak harshly.

“You worked hard today. Even after resting a bit, I’m not in a condition to exert my full power, so you should rest well today too.”

He simply asked for understanding, explaining that his physical condition wasn’t very good.

Seeing concern rather than doubt appear on the youngster’s face in the video, it seemed his message had been conveyed sufficiently.

There was no point in prolonging the conversation when it would only elicit worried words from the boy.

With that thought, Fafnir snapped his fingers and turned off the video that had served as the connection between his world and the youngster’s.

As the video disappeared, silence once again fell over his world.

The fog, which had subsided earlier, began to rise again, filling the area around Fafnir with an unpleasant gloom.

“…Nnngh.”

As he stretched lightly while letting out a groan, Fafnir had no reason to care about the fog.

He was too busy figuring out how to resolve his current situation, feeling fatigue that he had rarely experienced since awakening from his long sleep.

“NNNGH!!”

Perhaps one stretch wasn’t enough to fully relieve his fatigue.

Letting out a clearer groan than before, Fafnir tried to stretch once more to adjust his stiff, tired body, but…

“…This is no joke.”

Tilting his head at the fatigue that wouldn’t improve despite these efforts(?), Fafnir finally had to fully acknowledge the weariness permeating his body by sitting down on the throne nearby.

As soon as he sat on the throne, he circulated the faint fighting spirit remaining in his body to observe his physical condition, but…

His sharp intuition merely informed him that rest was necessary.

Indeed.

He felt that even emitting the red light from his eye sockets—which always glowed brilliantly when he wore his helmet—was now taxing.

“…I need to rest.”

Muttering in a low voice, Fafnir reached out with both hands to remove the helmet that had been covering his face.

“If just wearing a helmet drains my strength, how much have I pushed my body…”

His low murmur was tinged with self-deprecation, reflecting how far he still had to go compared to when his power was at its peak.

Hehehe

Yet amid that self-deprecation, a faint laughter flowed, carrying satisfaction at having made his presence known to old enemies he hadn’t met in a very long time.

Eventually, his hands lifted the helmet covering his face.

The red glow, which he had struggled to maintain, gradually faded as Fafnir’s face, previously hidden by the helmet, revealed itself.

“Before sleeping, I should take another look at my face.”

After saying this, Fafnir carefully placed the helmet on the floor beside the throne.

Snap-!!

With a snap of his fingers, he pulled a mirror that had been some distance from the throne toward himself.

The mirror, initially tall enough to reflect his full body when standing, seemed to adjust to his seated position.

As it floated up and moved toward the throne where he sat, its height shortened until it was just right to reflect his entire seated form.

It was difficult to understand the principle behind such a change.

But considering that this space existed solely for Fafnir and those he permitted,

The adjustment of the mirror’s appearance wasn’t due to some mechanism within it.

Rather, it would be correct to say that the mirror changed according to Fafnir’s will projected onto it.

In any case, as Fafnir looked at the mirror that had arrived before him,

“…”

He remained silent, reaching out his right hand to caress the scar on his nape—a wound that even his abilities couldn’t erase.

Since it was clearly visible in the mirror’s reflection, it wasn’t difficult for his hand to find the scar.

Until his hand reached it…

As if the deep exhaustion that had covered his entire face while feeling the rare fatigue was a lie,

Fafnir’s expression, as he caressed the wound on his body, once again showed the wistfulness that had surfaced earlier.

Like reminiscing about something he could never face again.

“…”

This wistful expression, accompanied by silence, persisted for quite some time.

But after a while, as he finally lowered the hand that had been stroking his neck,

“Dragons, by nature, all despise wounds on their bodies terribly.”

Though quiet, these words, which didn’t match the wistful expression he had while looking at his scar, came out unexpectedly.

…Why was this red dragon reciting the habits of his kind, including himself?

“Especially if it’s a wound that brought one perilously close to death.”

As Fafnir continued to recite the general attitude of dragons toward wounds on their bodies,

Unlike earlier when only wistfulness appeared on his face,

An expression that was similar yet slightly different in nature—a mixture of playfulness and longing—emerged, and…

“…In my case, it’s a bit different though.”

From his mouth came words related to his personal experience, contrary to what was common among his kind.

What could make this dragon, who had decorated a moment that would be eternally remembered in human history, speak with such longing?

Rather than explaining by moving his tired lips,

Snap-!!

Fafnir seemed intent on explaining through something that appeared when he lightly snapped his fingers.

With the clear sound of two fingers meeting, what manifested before Fafnir was…

A kind of projection.

Unlike the video call he had used earlier to communicate with the outside world, this projection, which was generously longer in both width and height than the mirror reflecting his image,

Seemed to have appeared for the purpose of showing what he wanted to see.

“…I should reminisce about old memories related to that after such a long time.”

Indeed, that seemed to be its purpose.

Looking at the projection, Fafnir spoke in a quiet voice and snapped his fingers again to make the projection fulfill its intended purpose.

Then, something emerged from within the silver-glowing projection.

Though a deep darkness without a single ray of light shrouded the projection,

Something with an enormous presence was captured within that thick darkness.

It was a dragon.

A dragon flaunting scales of a brilliant, burning red.

A dragon of overwhelming size, difficult to gauge.

As could be inferred just from the red scales,

The dragon in the projection was Fafnir’s original form.

Why was Fafnir suddenly checking his past appearance through a projection?

As mentioned earlier, was he trying to alleviate the pain of his current predicament—unable to return to his original form—by observing his original body for some vicarious satisfaction?

-KWAAAAA-!!!!

…Judging by the fierce appearance of the dragon presumed to be Fafnir, clearly transmitted through the projection, that didn’t seem to be his intention.

Generally, when reminiscing about the past, one would observe oneself at one’s best to fill a satisfaction that can’t be fulfilled now—a conventional notion.

But the image of Fafnir in the projection, letting out a roar that nakedly revealed his lack of rationality, didn’t reflect such common psychology at all.

Anyway, something was forming at the mouth of Fafnir in the reminiscence.

-HWARLRUK!!

It was flames, harboring brilliance and heat that seemed ready to explode at any moment.

As time passed, the flames at his mouth grew in size.

Eventually, they left Fafnir’s mouth and flew toward somewhere.

If he had shot them into the void just to show off his power, his flames would have merely served to illuminate the dark surroundings.

But his flames had a clear target, not just empty space.

That destination was a city of visibly enormous scale.

Despite the thick darkness with even moonlight obscured by clouds,

It was a brilliant city where the bright lights of the urban area could be described as driving away the night without exaggeration.

But the moment Fafnir’s flames, flying at a fierce speed, reached it,

-PAKWANG-!!

What appeared to be the royal palace, the most noticeable structure in the urban area, disappeared without a trace amid a thunderous sound, a scene fully captured in the projection.

“…”

Watching this silently, Fafnir frowned heavily and covered his face with his right hand.

As if he had seen something he shouldn’t have.

“Should I be grateful that, despite this atrocity, a fragment of remaining sanity kept casualties to a minimum—just a few deaths and many injuries?”

The emotion permeating Fafnir’s words, which came out as if he was grinding them, was shame.

Still not removing the hand covering his face, Fafnir’s words continued to flow.

“Even though I wasn’t in my right mind, this reminds me every time I see it that I’m a being capable of feeling shame.”

Why does Fafnir feel ashamed of this scene he repeatedly mentions as shameful?

Is it because he turned a city where countless people lived into a wasteland without reason?

That’s certainly part of it, but there must be another reason.

Everything would be clear only when more words came from his mouth.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to find out.

“…This is from the time when I pursued only power approaching divinity, got entangled with the wrong demon god, and became a puppet—how could I not be ashamed of this?”

Fafnir’s mouth was directly and clearly stating why he was ashamed of this past image.

That’s right.

This ancient dragon, who had reigned as the epitome of terror in human history even before the demon gods who caused the Great Holy War,

Ironically, didn’t create such an image because he wanted to.

It was due to the machinations of another transcendent being, which is why he felt ashamed.

As a dragon with pride higher than any other race, as anyone would acknowledge,

The fact that his mind was controlled by someone else, causing him to act against his will, was an unbearable humiliation.

Crunch

From Fafnir’s mouth came the sound of grinding teeth, clearly intended to ruminate on the anger he felt recalling the old incident.

His body, which had been steeped in rare fatigue, showed clear signs of regaining vitality thanks to the temporary anger, but…

When the projection showed the citizens of a kingdom, whose name is no longer passed down, fleeing in panic after miraculously surviving from the city turned to ashes,

“Hoo…”

Fafnir, slowly lowering the hand covering his face, let out a faint sigh clearly intended to cool his anger.

That sigh was full of regret as he recalled a past that could no longer be undone.

“Who can I blame? It was my fault for greedily accepting power.”

He also uttered words marked by deep reflection and self-examination.

By now, the projection Fafnir had summoned showed his irretrievable massive form after moving to the center of the city reduced to ashes.

-KUOOOOOOO!!!

His howl, loud enough to shake the world, was clearly visible.

Fafnir’s eyes, watching this, showed a dryness indicating he had regained composure after a brief reflection.

He clearly intended not to show the passion he had displayed earlier, but…

“The climax should be coming up soon.”

His voice, more composed than before, flowed with a tone full of expectation for something.

What was Fafnir anticipating?

Step, step

Perhaps it was the owner of the footsteps forming a clear sound in the projection.