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Episode 6
“Ten years? Ah, come to think of it, it’s been about thirteen months since you came here. Then roughly ten years and ten months must have passed outside.”
“You’ve got to be ki—ah!”
Sion suddenly remembered his first deal with Derkios and the goblin extermination mission.
Just a few months ago, he had confirmed that the goblin horde numbered less than a hundred. But when he checked again later, they had multiplied into several thousand. He had been utterly dumbfounded back then.
Something had felt off at the time, and now he understood why.
If time in the dragon’s lair flowed ten times faster, this development was only natural.
“Don’t worry too much. You haven’t actually spent thirteen full months inside my lair, have you?”
“…!”
Sion froze.
Derkios was right.
Because of various quests, Sion had spent quite a bit of time outside the lair.
Which meant…
“You’ve spent about 240 days inside my lair. From the outside perspective, that’s six years and eight months.”
“Six years and eight months…”
Adding the time it would take to return to the duchy after leaving the wasteland, it would total roughly seven years.
“Seven years… Seven years, huh…”
It was still a huge amount of wasted time, but better than eleven years.
“This isn’t the time to stand around. I need to get out of here—now. Let me out immediately.”
Even as they spoke, time was flowing ten times faster inside, so Sion pressed Derkios urgently.
Without another word, the dragon let Sion climb onto his neck and soared out of the lair.
From the air, Sion looked down at the barren wasteland and sighed.
“A year of this same damn scenery. How was I supposed to notice anything? Seriously… haaa…”
Yes, the temperature had dropped a little and it had rained briefly a few times, but even a wasteland usually had a short wet season within a year. He had just assumed that was what he was seeing.
Other than that, the natural environment had been unchanged, so he never even considered that years might have been passing.
After about ten minutes of flight, Derkios slowed down and descended to land in the middle of the wasteland. He lowered his neck.
“This is…”
“The place where we first met.”
The wasteland all looked the same to Sion, so he hadn’t recognized it. But Derkios had deliberately dropped him off at the exact spot where they had first met—thirteen months ago to Sion, but six years and eight months in outside time.
He could’ve taken me a little farther, though…
Grumbling inwardly, Sion got off, and Derkios said:
“This is the edge of my territory, so don’t take it personally. If you go farther, there’s a good chance you’ll run into humans. Head that way. Farewell, First User.”
Without waiting for Sion’s reply, Derkios spread his massive wings and took off into the sky.
Sion briefly watched the dragon circling high above, then pulled a thin scarf up over his mouth like a muffler and started walking in the direction indicated.
Derkios silently watched Sion’s shrinking figure against the vast yellow wasteland and the clear blue sky.
Then, as if remembering something, he muttered:
“Ah, I suppose I should’ve told him about that too? …No, he didn’t ask, and he’ll find out soon anyway. Besides, this way it’ll be more interesting.”
Floating above Sion’s head, visible to the dragon’s eyes, was a semi-transparent rectangular panel.
A few words were written on it:
[User 01 Jang Sion : LEVEL 99]
“…Shit.”
Leaning her chin on clasped hands and glaring at the papers on her desk, Jena Olrot cursed under her breath.
She was in a terrible mood.
It had already been three years since she inherited the position of branch chief of the Burgos Information Guild, the branch closest to the Dragon’s Wasteland, following the death of her father a few years ago.
Still young, full of ambition and drive, she had no intention of rotting away in this backwater.
Burgos was just a small town with a population of around 6,000. Because it was so remote, there was very little important information to gather, which made her actual work frustrating.
Honestly, the Information Guild usually didn’t even bother to set up proper offices in such remote places.
They simply relied on rumors brought by passing merchants and mercenaries—no need to staff a branch.
And yet, she held the lofty title of branch chief for the second generation in a row, with a handful of good-for-nothing errand boys under her.
The reasons?
“The damned Dragon’s Wasteland. And that bastard Yent.”
The first reason was the occasional rumors of dragon sightings in the wasteland.
The second was Yent, the middle manager at the guild headquarters, who was deliberately keeping her stuck here.
“Bastard…”
She cracked peanuts between her teeth like she was chewing Yent’s head.
He was the one who kept rejecting her repeated transfer requests to the capital—or anywhere else.
The document on her desk was the sixth rejection letter, which explained her foul mood.
“Just you wait, you son of a bitch. One day I’ll chew you up and spit you out.”
She tossed another peanut shell onto the pile in the corner of her desk and was about to tear the letter in half when—
“Branch Chief! Branch Chief!”
The door burst open, and one of the errand boys came rushing in.
“What the hell? Ever heard of knocking?”
“A customer! An external customer has arrived!”
“What?”
Jena’s eyes widened as she hurried outside.
The Burgos branch hardly ever saw paying customers from outside.
Maybe five or six a year, at most?
And those rare customers were usually crazy knights or naïve nobles trying to explore the Dragon’s Wasteland—the branch’s primary source of income.
Well, I guess a good thing had to follow a bad one eventually.
Grinning like a merchant about to fleece someone, she put on her best professional smile to greet the precious customer.
“Haha, welcome! You have come to the officially certified Burgos branch of the Oblar Kingdom’s Royal Information Guild…”
She froze mid-sentence.
Something about the customer felt… off.
Though a muffler covered his face from the nose down to protect against the dusty wind, she could see his eyes—and he was far too young.
Have I seen him somewhere before? He doesn’t look like a knight…
He was wearing a backpack and traveling alone—not how knights moved.
He didn’t look like a noble either; nobles didn’t travel without attendants, and if they did, it was because they were impoverished minor nobles.
Which meant this “precious” customer was actually…
Shit. Just some wandering mercenary.
Jena forced her expression to stay pleasant.
The man was armed and had made it here alone—clearly not someone to underestimate.
Provoking someone dangerous like this would bring no benefit.
“Please, have a seat. Hey, bring some water.”
If he were a noble or a knight, she would have served wine. But a mercenary? Water was plenty.
“Are you perhaps a mercenary? If you’re registered or part of a company, I could—”
“Since when does the Information Guild ask for personal customer details?”
“…”
She had tried probing, but his sharp reply shut her up immediately.
Jena quickly bowed her head in apology.
“My apologies. Then let’s get straight to the point—what information do you seek?”
“Did the branch chief change? Where’s Olrot? The hairy guy with the long scar across his nose.”
“…!”
The customer’s words referred to her father, and Jena was startled and puzzled.
“You must mean my father. He passed away three years ago. But… how do you know him?”
The man looked to be in his mid-twenties at most.
How could he know her father?
And not only that, but he was speaking like someone who had known him well—as a subordinate, even.
Her attitude grew more cautious.
“He died? Olrot… And ‘father,’ you say? Then you must be… No, never mind. Here.”
He stopped himself mid-thought, then pulled something out and placed it on the counter.
It was four gold coins and a palm-sized golden metal plate engraved with the figure of a bird.
“…!”
Jena’s eyes widened—not at the gold coins, but at the metal plate.
It was engraved with a hawk, and such plates were only issued to First-Class Customers of the Information Guild.
Not just anyone could receive one.
They were reserved for a tiny elite group of customers with long-standing, exceptional trust and history with the guild.
“May I… verify this?”
“Go ahead.”
He agreed without hesitation.
After checking it, Jena’s eyes widened even further, and her jaw dropped.
The serial number… single digits!? Number 4!? That’s impossible—
“Gasp!”
The plate was older than her grandfather’s generation, issued long before she was born.
And then, realization struck her like a lightning bolt.
Her trembling voice escaped her mouth:
“S–Sion…!?”
Sion silently stared at the young branch chief, Jena Olrot, as if she were a statue.
The last time he saw her, she’d been a girl in her late teens. Now, she was a fully grown woman.
He’d seen this kind of thing countless times—children growing into adults, adults aging into elders—all during the course of his long life.
So, she succeeded her father, huh…
In this world, it was normal for children to take over their parents’ work. Practically inevitable, in fact.
So it wasn’t strange that this young woman had succeeded the old Olrot as branch chief.
The odd part was something else.
It’s strange she’s still here. Normally, when a branch chief dies, they send in someone completely new…
Sion had become a first-class client of the guild about 70 years ago, and had gone through more than ten different branch heads in that time.
The old Olrot had been his longest-serving handler—about seven or eight years.
Or about fifteen, if you counted the time dilation while he was in Derkios’s lair.
Olrot had been taciturn and meticulous, and Sion had specifically requested that he remain his handler permanently.
But the man had died while Sion was away.
Normally, that would mean a new handler would be dispatched.
But here was Olrot’s daughter, who remembered him.
I thought she wouldn’t remember me from just a few brief encounters… This could be a problem.
Jena stood at attention, facing forward, but her eyes flicked rapidly—full of suspicion at his unchanged appearance after more than a decade.
“Hm…”
Sion’s thoughtful expression made her stiffen even more.
Finally, he looked up and asked:
“How much did your father tell you about me?”
“Nothing at all! Customer privacy is absolute, even for family.”
Sion prided himself on his ability to read people after so many years of life.
He could tell she wasn’t lying.
It made sense—no branch chief would dare lie to a First-Class Customer.
“I see. Then all you know is that I’m affiliated with the Sion Ducal House, correct?”
“Yes.”
She answered nervously, sweat beading on her back.
Even mentioning a first-class client’s affiliation was technically forbidden.
She had made a rookie mistake.
“I am Duke Jang Sion.”
“…Excuse me?”
Jena blinked in confusion, not understanding what she had just heard.
“I am Duke Jang Sion himself. Your father was one of the few outsiders who knew that.”
“…Hiiik!?”
(To be continued in the next episode)
