The King of Vagrants

“Knock knock.”

The knocking voice sounded like a slightly raspy middle-aged man’s.

“Please come in.”

Creak. The door opened.

“Good day to you.”

A man entered.

Doyun narrowed his eyes at the man’s appearance, completely defying his expectations.

Bluntly put, his first impression could be summed up in one word:

‘A beggar…?’

Carrying an exceptionally long staff on his back, the man wore frayed old pants, a tattered straw raincoat, and a disheveled hat.

The hair peeking from under his hat hung past his shoulders in an unkempt, broomstick-like mess.

The faint wrinkles around his eyes and lips hinted at his age, yet he exuded a certain youthful vigor unbefitting his years – how to put it, a spry jauntiness.

“A pleasure to meet you.”

“Ah, hello there.”

Doyun and Eloah rose from their seats to greet him.

“…Sir Vagabond.”

“Oops, my apologies.”

Catching Eloah’s hint, the man quickly spat out the cigarette he had been chewing, snuffing it out on his palm. The long butt naturally found its way back into his pocket.

‘…He was smoking?’

Yet there had been no smell nor sounds of smoking.

An uncanny level of stealth beyond mere stillness – perfect concealment bordering on supernatural.

‘More flawless than even Haineken.’

Superior stealth to even Haineken with his A-Rank Stealth Lv8 and Stealthy Tracker trait.

“Oomph.”

The man ambled over, plopping down right beside Eloah without ceremony.

“Si, Sir Vagabond?”

“Aiyah, ya lil’ trickster elf. Long time no see, ya grew up bunches.”

“…Elves don’t physically mature noticeably within mere three months. But anyway…”

“Why’m I sittin’ here, ya askin’?”

He gestured with his chin towards Doyun.

“That there looks like the seat o’ honor.”

“…!”

Eloah recoiled in shock, and Doyun too inwardly marveled.

‘I didn’t even sense any eavesdropping.’

Apparently, from the instant he had entered the room, a mere breath of air had been enough for him to grasp their relationship dynamic.

Extraordinarily keen senses, even by Doyun’s standards.

“No need ta worry, ya know I keep mum.”

“…I would appreciate it if you kept this confidential, Sir Vagabond.”

“Heheh. But in return…”

He retrieved the cigarette butt from his pocket once more.

“Mind if I finish this up?”

“Haah…”

“Heheh. Much obliged.”

Doyun keenly observed the exchange between Eloah and the man.

Given how Eloah openly displayed her true self, this vagabond seemed a trustworthy figure.

Chuckling contentedly as he savored the remaining butt, the man extended his hand towards Doyun with a friendly smile.

“A pleasure ta meet ya, good sir. I’m the wanderin’ Vagabond servin’ as the Heroic Champion o’ that backwater kingdom Marinel.”

“I am Han Doyun of the World Tree. A pleasure.”

Meeting the man’s gaze, Doyun let out an inward grunt of acknowledgment.

‘A battle-hardened veteran.’

Eyes that had witnessed countless tales and deaths across innumerable battlefields, aged into callous composure, meticulous precision, and ruthlessness through sheer necessity.

A century ago, a certain poet had described such eyes as ‘justice worn away by ceaseless grinding.’

They were eyes identical to Enoch’s own.

The Vagabond offered his cigarette pouch.

“In my neck o’ the woods, sharin’ a smoke is a gesture o’ courtesy an’ goodwill towards new acquaintances. Care fer a cig?”

“…I shall partake, thank you.”

“You, Doyun smokes…?”

As Doyun accepted a cigarette, the Vagabond snapped his fingers, igniting it with friction heat.

The two leaned back, facing each other as they savored their first respective puffs.

Exhaling through his nose, the Vagabond shot Eloah an amused smirk, prompting her to clench her fist in realization – his wily ruse to bum an extra cigarette.

“That such a skilled personage has eluded my knowledge until now… From your appearance, you seem a foreigner, but how long have you been active in these parts, good sir?”

“…”

“If answering proves difficult, consider it unasked.”

“My apologies.”

The Vagabond nodded understandingly with a friendly smile, taking another puff.

“As you know, there was no need for me to come in person just to hear a witness account. I simply couldn’t resist satisfying my curiosity about you.”

“By a Hero’s standards, one of my meager skills would hardly seem noteworthy, would it?”

“Haineken. That rascal was my disciple.”

“…I see.”

“That fussy brat sang your praises until his lips went dry. Even in the moment he severed the King of Villran’s neck, he lamented while uttering your name in wistful tones.”

Just how much had he overheard? Doyun met the man’s gaze as he inhaled from his cigarette.

“Ah, have no worries. That rascal kept your secrets to the bitter end. He begged my forgiveness for being unable to divulge them to me.”

Doyun sensed the sincerity in his words. Indeed, Haineken had seemed a trustworthy man.

“So, has your curiosity been satisfied?”

“You jest? A mysterious human like yourself is a first for these old eyes.”

The man leaned forward as he spoke.

“Since we’ve shared a smoke, allow me to inquire bluntly. Just how old are you? How have you eluded my information network until now? And how did you achieve such a return to the origin?”

“One at a time, now…”

“Could you perhaps be a dragon?”

At those words, Doyun and Eloah both turned wide-eyed gazes towards the Vagabond.

“…May I ask what led you to that conjecture?”

“It may sound like a fanciful tale, but in my youth, I once received a dragon’s blessing.”

The Vagabond chewed on his cigarette’s tip as he continued,

“One of the draconic traits I sensed then was a ‘return to the origin’ – their internal mana perfectly contained, not leaking outwards at all. And you possess that very quality, though not yet perfected.”

The Dragon Heart compressed mana into a crystallized state, apparently producing an unintended side effect Doyun hadn’t foreseen.

After a moment’s contemplation, Doyun spoke,

“I am not a dragon myself, but I do harbor a Dragon Heart within.”

“Hrm…?”

“You what!?”

Eloah started in shock while the Vagabond let out a guttural grunt, his pupils quivering.

“A, a Dragon Heart, you say!? Just what in the… Ah…! Could it be from encountering the Dragon Lord back then…!”

The Vagabond’s eyes gleamed at Eloah’s words.

“The Dragon Lord?”

“We’ve submitted a report to the Alliance, so it will come to light soon enough, but during this latest expedition, we did indeed meet the Dragon Lord.”

“…”

He fell silent, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon Doyun.

And then, the Vagabond’s eyes widened.

“Hrmmm…! You speak the truth, good sir… Just what in the…”

Apparently taken quite aback, he set aside his previously relished cigarette, repeatedly grunting in disbelief.

Even the ever-composed Vagabond struggled to regain his calm demeanor this time – such was the reverence the Dragon Lord commanded.

Perhaps having personally encountered dragons before only amplified his astonishment.

“A human who has met the Dragon Lord and received its blessing, harboring a Dragon Heart within…!”

“…”

“My word… That dimwit Haineken! After I emphasized the importance of spotting talent so adamantly, how did he let someone like you slip through his fingers…! The Villran Golden Age was within our very grasp!”

Doyun leaned back, inhaling from his cigarette with a solemn gaze.

He knew exactly how to handle such geniuses – to secure their allegiance, he had to utterly captivate them.

Sensing this man would eventually become a formidable asset, Doyun had revealed his cards.

It took some time for Eloah and the Vagabond to regain their composure. Finally collecting himself, the Vagabond spoke,

“…In my original dimension, I was a prime candidate to lead the ‘Openhand’ organization. And here, I operate a similar group, known as the King of Vagrants.”

“I see.”

“I wish to establish positive relations with you, good sir. Feel free to contact me whenever you require information – our intelligence network rivals even the pre-collapse Villran royalty.”

Doyun smiled faintly, shaking the man’s hand. While cultivating mutual trust would take time, for now, he had gained a precious connection.

“My gratitude. Ah, and please, speak plainly.”

“If ya insist. Heheh.”

The atmosphere was cordial, the two exchanging plumes of smoke instead of clinking cups.

As they resettled into their seats, the conversation turned to the main topic, with Doyun providing the Vagabond a detailed account of the ambush.

“That should suffice. I’ll ensure it gets properly conveyed at the conference.”

“You have my thanks for your efforts.”

“Ah, and not immediately, but… might I request a favor in the future?”

“A favor, you say…?”

“A rather tall order, but perhaps feasible for one bearing a draconic connection and the Dragon Heart himself. I’ll offer suitable recompense.”

“Recompense?”

“Hmm! A tad unbecoming from my own lips, so…”

The Vagabond then relayed something to Eloah via telepathy. Doyun refrained from eavesdropping.

Upon hearing it, Eloah’s eyes widened before she passionately urged Doyun,

“Sir… no, Doyun! You simply must accept!”

“Pardon?”

“Despite his rough exterior, this Vagabond is renowned as the preeminent Martial Mentor across the continent, having nurtured countless prodigies like Haineken with his unique unorthodox arts! He wields that staff as his principal weapon, you see!”

“Aiyah, ‘rough exterior’ she says, ya make me sound unpleasant…”

“All Disciples dream of receiving even a single lesson from the Vagabond! Moreover, the number of top-tier Disciples he has personally taught doesn’t even reach the ten-finger count!”

[While the Hero is indeed peerless in swordsmanship and martial arts, the Vagabond’s mastery encompasses an unimaginable breadth of esoteric techniques. Surely some would prove enlightening even for you, Sir Hero!]

Eloah explained passionately, even resorting to telepathy. Doyun could only tilt his head, wondering just what this ‘recompense’ could be.

Seemingly satisfied with Eloah’s enthusiastic endorsement, the Vagabond cleared his throat with a casual shrug.

“Hmm, hmm! Hearin’ such high praises from the sidelines, a fella can’t help but blush… Ahem. Anyway. The recompense I can offer is…”

He smiled slyly.

“To teach ya a rather useful technique well-suited fer yerself.”