TNBCT 15

Chapter 15

The hero, Heroth Arcion, clasped his hands together, pressing them lightly to his lips as his gaze fell downward.

At the end of that gaze sat a small box on the table, no larger than a man’s fist.

Heroth blinked slowly, listening to the voice speaking to him.

“They were attacked the moment they entered the mountain path. Looks like the ambushers were waiting for the right moment.”

It was his aide, Polin, who spoke. Letting out a sigh, Polin adjusted his monocle with the heel of his hand.

“They must have known that the Arcion Duchy’s relic was being transported through the Golden Chalice Guild. Everyone survived, at least, so we’ll interrogate them and find out who’s behind this.”

Only then did Heroth lift his gaze from the box and look toward the guildmaster, Edhurt, who sat diagonally across from him.

Edhurt trembled like a frightened rabbit. When he inadvertently met Heroth’s cold eyes, he instantly understood who the infamous “mad lady” had inherited her gaze from. Like father, like daughter…

“Guildmaster.”

“Y-yes, my lord?”

“Who knew that the relic was being transported?”

“No one other than myself and the vice guildmaster. As you can see, it was disguised as an ordinary item.”

“Then how were the enemies able to prepare an ambush?”

Heroth wasn’t asking because he truly wanted an answer. Edhurt hunched his neck like a turtle.

“I’ll question the vice guildmaster myself when I return.”

“No need. He’s already been brought here. I’ll handle the interrogation personally.”

Unclasping his hands, Heroth tapped his finger lightly against the table—tok, tok—then muttered under his breath.

“But I can’t just overlook the fact that this forced me to get involved.”

Edhurt might not have any combat ability, but he wasn’t stupid. The relic of a ducal house had been attacked during transport. Even if the object itself was safe, the guild had failed its duty. He didn’t need to be told what that meant.

“We’ll return the full commission and add extra compensation to hire a new mercenary company. From there, please judge for yourself whether we’re still fit to handle your requests.”

“Not bad.”

Heroth withdrew his hand from the table.

Polin, his aide, shook his head slightly—half in relief, half in disbelief that Heroth hadn’t just smashed the table in anger.

“By the way, how is Lady Daphne doing?” Edhurt asked carefully.

“If not for her, we would all be dead. The relic would’ve been stolen as well. Please extend our gratitude once again.”

Heroth turned to Polin, who quickly picked up the cue.

“I was going to ask the same, Guildmaster. What do you mean by Lady Daphne helped you? Please explain in detail.”

Overjoyed at the change of subject, Edhurt rubbed his hands together eagerly.

“Just as I said! We were surrounded and ready to die when Lady Daphne appeared out of nowhere—and drove off the bandits with a wooden sword!“

“A… wooden sword?”

“Yes!”

Polin furrowed his brows, and Heroth’s expression darkened as well.

“Has Daphne ever been trained in swordsmanship?” Heroth asked.

“No, never.”

“Then how did she defeat a group of armed bandits?”

“I have no idea.”

“And what was she even doing on that mountain path?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then what do you know?”

“I’ll find out and report back to you, my lord.”

Edhurt had grown used to this kind of bizarre exchange between the two. When the room fell silent again, he spoke once more.

“After that, Lady Daphne collapsed. I’d heard rumors that her health was poor, but I’m afraid our situation may have worsened it.”

Heroth recalled Daphne’s pale face as the elven healer carried her on his back.

Her skin had been ghostly white, drained of all life, as if death itself were clinging to her. Blood had stained her lips, her chin, and even her chest—clear signs that she had been coughing up blood again.

That made him wonder.

When had this frail girl, who could barely stand, learned to wield a sword? When did she slip out of the mansion and into the mountains—and why risk herself to save them?

Heroth stood up.

“Aide, interrogate the captured bandits. Guildmaster, rest and then return. I’ll decide how to proceed once I’ve reviewed everything.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Where are you going, my lord?” Polin asked.

Heroth picked up the box containing the relic and replied curtly,

“To find out.”

Dream

She dreamed.

Of the time before she inhabited this frail human body—when she was a mighty dragon.

A village was burning. She discovered it too late. She had flown to a nearby lake, gathered a great mass of water, and tried to extinguish the flames. But the fire was too fierce.

She shouted for the humans to come out, begged them to run while she protected them with magic—anything to save their lives.

But no one came out.

Because to those humans, she was a far greater disaster than the fire consuming their homes.

In the end, she couldn’t save a single soul.

When the flames finally died and she stepped into the ruins, she found blackened ashes shaped like people—huddled in corners farthest from the doors.

Why? she had wondered endlessly. If they had just come out, they could have lived.

And finally, she understood.

I am a calamity. I can save no one.

But now—

“If not for Lady Daphne, we’d all be dead!”
“Truly, thank you!”
“We’ll never forget this debt!”

Which was the dream? The burning village—or these voices of gratitude?

Either way, it was the first time she’d ever heard such words.

The chain of cause and effect… has been broken.

When Daphne woke, she clutched her aching head and grimaced.

So it ends this meaninglessly, huh…

As a dragon, she had fought countless enemies simply because she was deemed a “calamity.” Now, perhaps it was a relief that she no longer had to deal with such pointless battles.

Though I am curious how things came to this…

She decided she could find out later.

Lowering her hand, she looked around—ready to summon that annoying servant Tayti and make him bow until his head hit the floor for letting her faint again.

But instead, she saw something unexpected.

“Oh, bloody hell. What a way to ruin my mood.”

Heroth Arcion was sitting calmly on her sofa.

To wake up and see his face first thing in the morning—was there anything more miserable?

“Why are you in my room? If it’s nothing important, get lost. I’ve no wish to speak with you.”

Still reading from an open book, Heroth said,

“I’ve been wondering—why does your way of speaking suddenly sound like that?”

Daphne froze.

How was she supposed to explain that? Because this is how I actually speak? Impossible. The former Daphne would never have used such a tone.

She rolled her eyes, then glanced at the book in his hand and replied coolly,

“Read the wrong book, it seems.”

“You got too absorbed in it, then.”

Heroth placed a bookmark, closed the book, and said,

“I won’t take much of your time. Answer two questions, and I’ll leave.”

Daphne narrowed her eyes.

“Strange. Your daughter nearly died, yet you don’t even ask if she’s all right.”

“Were we ever that affectionate as a family?”

Heroth smirked faintly.

“You once said you’d never acknowledge me as your father. So I’m treating you as an independent person, not as my daughter. If you don’t like that, you can always be my daughter again.”

He recalled the venomous words she’d once spat at him and leaned forward slightly.

“Daughter?”

“No.”

“Thought so.”

Heroth shrugged and pointed to the opposite sofa.

Though suspicious, Daphne walked over and sat down primly.

“What do you want to know?”

“First.”

He gestured toward the box on the desk.

“Did you know that merchants were transporting the family’s relic?”

“What’s a relic? And stop hogging that tea, give me some. I’m thirsty.”

She slapped his hand away and stole his teacup. Heroth blinked, momentarily stunned by her audacity, before regaining composure.

“The relics are gifts from dragons, passed down through noble houses. I can show you if you want.”

“So that’s the worthless thing I ended up protecting. Wonderful. My mood’s ruined already, no need to show it.”

“Which makes me want to show you even more.”

“I said I don’t want to see it!”

Heroth chuckled at her outburst.

“Second question: why did you save those merchants?”

“They were being attacked by bad men, so I helped.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Just.”

“‘Just’ needs a bit more explanation.”

“Why should I explain myself?”

“Because if you don’t, the Duchy’s investigators will pester you instead.”

“Unfair.”

Apparently, the hero also fought battles with words.

Daphne rolled her eyes again, thinking. She wasn’t lying—it really was just instinct. So she answered honestly.

“Hard to believe, but it’s true. The weak were being attacked, so the strong should help them. That’s all there is to it.”

“What?”

Heroth was dumbfounded.

Not long ago, this girl had fired a maid for stepping on her shadow and threatened a chef for serving lukewarm food.

And now she was rescuing merchants—just because?

Had nearly dying really changed her that much?

Even as a swordmaster, he couldn’t detect anything unusual about her aura.

“If you’re done asking, leave. I’m going to rest.”

Hmm. Still foul-mouthed—maybe she hadn’t changed that much.

Heroth sighed, then spoke again.

“If you’re scheming something, drop it. I’m sick of your misdeeds.”

“Appreciate the advice.”

It was oddly unfamiliar—not having her scream or cry for his attention like before.

He unconsciously brushed a scar on his face, then pushed the box toward her.

“This is the White Lion’s Lantern.”

The relic passed down through generations of dukes—its silvery-gold metal gleaming faintly, filled with fine white powder that never burned away.

Heroth snapped his fingers, lighting the lantern.

“Keep it lit while you sleep. It’ll help you recover your strength. Even if you hate it, it’s worth keeping.”

Leaving the softly glowing white flame behind, he rose and walked toward the door.

“You don’t need thanks. You earned it yourself. Rest well.”

Daphne watched his back as he left.

Wait. Did he just say this was my gift?

And that’s how he says it? So rudely?

“Unbelievable…”

Before she could retort, he was already gone.

Left alone, she could only stare blankly at the shimmering white light of the lantern.

For some reason, every word he’d said stuck in her throat like fish bones, leaving her chest tight.

Humans were truly impossible to understand.

Within two days, rumors swept through the capital.

It was about none other than the infamous problem child of House Arcion—Daphne Arcion herself.

“Wait, are you saying the delinquent lady didn’t attack someone this time—but actually saved them?”

“From bandits, no less?!”