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Dragons.

These creatures had not appeared in the mortal world for a very long time. In fact, to most intelligent races of the Loren Continent, dragons were creatures that existed somewhere between myth and reality. They knew for certain that such powerful beings existed, but almost no one would ever see a true dragon in their lifetime.

The only exceptions were those mystical, exceptionally long-lived elves of the south. With their lengthy lifespans, elves had every right to call themselves witnesses to history. Over the Elven Empire's long history, there had been one or two recorded encounters with dragons.

The elegant, powerful creature with Deep Blue scales and enormous wings flew across the sky, raining down deadly breath. The white-hot pillar of fire contained ancient Dragon Language Magic, and its power was far more than mere flame. Wherever it swept, the ground burst into roaring fires that continued burning and spreading without fuel. After only a few breaths, the entire Cecil Territory had been swallowed by an inferno.

Having done all that, the dragon circled overhead for a while longer, as if inspecting the results of its work. Only then did it flap its wings and soar into the sky, vanishing into the clouds that were gradually brightening.

Gawain heard several deep breaths from beside him. Including Heti, everyone had only now dared to take a full breath—if that dragon had lingered any longer, who knew which of them would have passed out first from holding their breath.

"Dragon... dragon..." Rebecca clutched her staff tightly and kept muttering, "Ancestor, I saw a dragon..."

Gawain cleared his throat twice. "Ahem. You don't need to tell me. I saw it too."

Rebecca jolted back to her senses, gave Gawain an awkward glance, then looked toward the Cecil Territory with a complicated expression.

Ravaged once by the Magic Tide and then scorched again by Dragon Flame, this place was truly beyond saving.

As for those monsters... they had been quite troublesome for the poorly trained guards of the Cecil Territory, but they were ultimately only the lowest class of aberrations. Under the dragon fire, nearly all of them had been reduced to ash. Even if some had survived, their self-destruction was only a matter of time after the surrounding environment had changed so drastically.

"I thought dragons only appeared in legends," even the taciturn Knight Byron could not help saying. The three soldiers beside him were still shaking too badly to stand. The knight, usually so strict, did not reprimand them now. He merely frowned. "My lord, have you ever dealt with dragons?"

"No." Gawain shook his head. "Dragons are very mysterious creatures. Even when half the Loren Continent was turned upside down Seven Hundred Years Ago, they never involved themselves in mortal affairs."

Though he said that, Gawain was not particularly shocked by those massive creatures. He had seen dragons through other means—during those days hanging in the sky, he had seen them appear on the continent more than once. Dragons truly were mysterious, however. Even after hanging in the sky for who knew how many tens of thousands of years, he had seen only a limited number of them. And the images had been chaotic and fragmented, so he could not draw many conclusions about their traits or habits.

At that moment, the shadow beside Gawain suddenly swayed twice. He turned his head and, sure enough, saw Amber standing behind him. The Half-elf girl still looked badly shaken.

"I saw a dragon!" Amber shouted excitedly. "My mother will never believe me—I saw a dragon! It was thiiiiis big!"

"All right, all right, everyone here saw it." Gawain glared at the timid, noisy thief. "Where did you run off to just now?"

"I crawled into a crack between some rocks nearby." Amber puffed out her chest. "I'm first-rate at running for my life!"

Gawain covered his forehead and sighed. "Your Shadow Affinity is at least master-level, but your frontal combat ability is only slightly better than a goose's, and you're proud of that."

Then he shook his head. "This is no place to stay. Let's leave quickly."

He started down the slope. Although the dragon had left, who knew what other strange things might emerge? Leaving as soon as possible was the best course. But Heti cast one last complicated look at the family territory. "Ancestor... that dragon burned our territory."

"It burned our ruins. Strictly speaking, it burned those monsters." Gawain glanced at Heti. When the dragon had released its breath earlier, he had watched carefully. It had basically aimed at the areas where the monsters were most densely gathered. Though he had no idea why it had missed its aim several times, its intent had been quite obvious. "The Cecil Territory was already gone before that dragon arrived."

"But..."

"You want to demand justice from a dragon?" Gawain shrugged. "Be practical. If we're going to do anything, it should be getting back to civilized society as quickly as possible and reporting everything about the monsters and the dragon."

Heti could not argue with that and could only nod. "Yes."

Gawain actually understood Heti's feelings well—the Cecil Territory was her hometown, the place where she had been born and raised. Though her hometown had already been destroyed, that hurdle in her heart would not be easy to cross. Even knowing that the dragon had merely added another fire to the ruins, and that the fire was likely meant to burn the monsters, she would still feel uncomfortable about it.

After all, this was basically whipping a corpse in front of its face.

But understanding was one thing; Gawain found it difficult to truly put himself in her shoes—after all, until he had climbed out of that coffin, he had not even been the ancestor of the Cecil Family...

With all sorts of tangled thoughts, the group left the area. What lay before them next was a dense forest.

Holding her staff in one hand, Heti traced several flickering runes in the air with the other. Then she looked up toward the forest. "We have to pass through these woods to return to the main road. This is the only route to Tanzan Town."

Gawain looked at the glowing runes in Heti's hand with curiosity and envy, though he tried to hide the latter. "Magic really is convenient..."

"Ancestor?" Heti looked confused, then immediately became somewhat frightened. "Have my skills displeased you?"

Gawain froze. "Huh? Why would I be displeased?"

"The Cecil Family has always established itself through the power of knights. Martial skill and horsemanship are the family's true tradition. People like Rebecca and me, who have taken the path of mages... if this had been more than One Hundred Years Ago, forget inheritance rights—we might not even have been able to hold our place in the family," Heti explained nervously. "It's only... only because the family's status plummeted after that incident One Hundred Years Ago, and our numbers gradually dwindled, that children able to wield Supernatural Power became scarce. That was why paths beyond knighthood came to be accepted... But no matter what, it still goes against the family rules."

Gawain casually said, "Which idiot came up with that rule?"

He had always loathed such typically rigid family rules.

He had not expected the atmosphere to turn awkward the moment he said it. Knight Byron immediately lowered his head and pretended to tie his shoelaces—even though he was wearing iron boots. Heti stood frozen, while Rebecca timidly raised a hand two seconds later and pointed at Gawain himself.

Gawain: "..."

Searching through his memories, it seemed there really had been such a thing back then.

The hot-blooded young hero Gawain Cecil had once celebrated a victory by drinking heavily with Charles I, the founding king of the Ansu Kingdom. The two close friends got drunk and boasted to each other, discussing how their great undertaking was nearly complete. Those people who had once led their clans north in hardship would now become pioneers and founders. Before long, they would become the first generation of nobles—and as long as they could live and reproduce, these first-generation nobles with no real heritage would give rise to ancient families with long, distinguished bloodlines...

So the two drunken founders got together and wondered whether they should standardize things in advance, establish some family rules and teachings, and prevent their descendants from forgetting their ancestors' spirit. And as the foremost among pioneers and founders, Gawain Cecil and Charles I should naturally set an example.

Thus, Gawain Cecil of Seven Hundred Years Ago downed more than half a cup of strong liquor, glanced at the Knight Sword at his waist, then raised his hand and boldly wrote a line across the table:

Knights are better than mages.

Charles I felt deeply gratified upon seeing it, so he too boldly wrote a line:

Lord Gawain is right.

The former became the ancestral teaching of the Cecil Family. The latter... the latter was argued down by Charles I's attendants and advisers at the risk of their lives.

The far-sighted ministers and the king, once he had sobered up, naturally would not include drunken nonsense like that in the fundamental policies of the nation. But Gawain Cecil had seriously written his drunken thoughts into the family rules.

Returning from the memory archive, Gawain looked at Heti and Rebecca with an utterly awkward expression.

He sighed. "I was drunk back then. Just pretend that rule doesn't exist..."

Heti and Rebecca: "...?"

Just then, a rumbling growl from Amber's stomach finally rescued Gawain from the awkwardness.

"Although I know it's probably not appropriate to say this while you ancestors and descendants are enjoying such a heartwarming reunion," the Half-elf girl said awkwardly while rubbing her stomach, "but I'm a little hungry."

Amber's hunger seemed to be a signal. As soon as she finished speaking, several stomachs began rumbling in succession from everyone present.

Even Gawain was no exception.

Only then did Gawain realize that, since leaving that dark tomb, everyone present had gone a long time without eating.

And he had gone especially longer than anyone else—when he had last enjoyed the satisfaction of chewing food, the monkeys of the Loren Continent had still been far from walking upright.