Heinkel was in the city hall when he witnessed the strange sight in the distant sky.
Priscilla had predicted that this was a sign of something major about to happen. He did not believe she truly possessed the ability to foresee the future, but he also knew better than to dismiss the insight of someone beyond the ordinary.
It was not just Priscilla. People burdened with special abilities or destinies viewed things from a different height than ordinary people.
A different vantage point meant seeing different scenery. They could see farther, and see things ordinary people could not.
Thus, ordinary people-no, mediocre people could never understand them. Heinkel had learned that painfully over more than forty years of life.
That was why he would not flatly reject something simply because he could not understand it. He had not taken Priscilla's words as a joke, and that was why he had come to city hall.
There, he met with the two people who happened to be drawing up the fortified city's future policies-Medium and Mizelda-and, after conveying Priscilla's request to prepare for trouble, began discussing it.
And then-
"-"
The first to notice something wrong was Mizelda, who turned her head on instinct.
He had heard that this former chief of the Shudraq had lost a leg during the battle to capture the fortified city. She had attached the end of a wooden stick to her right leg, which was missing everything below the knee, to serve as a prosthetic. Every step she took made the stick strike the ground, and that sound rang out again now.
The instant the sharp-eyed Mizelda's beautiful face tightened, Heinkel and Medium noticed something wrong as well and looked in the same direction. Seeing the black specks swarming toward them from the distant sky, Medium murmured.
"-Flying dragons. A whole flock."
Indeed, a threat was approaching, its unbelievable numbers blotting out the sky.
"-! Medium! Alert the army! I'll command the Shudraq!"
Immediately grasping the urgency of the situation, Mizelda clapped Medium on the shoulder, then dashed down the stairs toward her companions. Her loud footsteps hammered against Medium's eardrums, and his expression tightened too.
"Ring the alarm! Enemy attack! They're coming from the sky!"
He shouted this and kicked an aide, and then the alarm bell rang out to warn the entire city of the approaching danger. Listening to its pealing, Heinkel clicked his tongue loudly as well. Priscilla's fears had come true. And at the worst possible moment, before they had begun preparing.
"Lord Heinkel! Lady Priscilla..."
"Lady Priscilla's at the mansion. She already knew something was going to happen. She's probably on the move by now."
After answering Medium, who had turned to question him, Heinkel looked at the enemy silhouettes in the sky. In mere dozens of seconds, their outlines had become markedly darker and larger as they approached the city at astonishing speed. There was no time left to hesitate.
"Any idea who's attacking?"
"-. That number of flying dragons is extraordinary. Even in the Empire, only a handful of forces can mobilize so many... Given that, there's one possibility."
"Well? What possibility?"
Medium's roundabout way of speaking felt like a waste of time, and Heinkel's tone grew rough. Faced with his demand, Medium answered after a pause.
"'Flying Dragon General' Madelyn Eschart... She can control flying dragons. In other words..."
"Son of a bitch, one of the Nine Divine Generals...!"
Hearing that renowned name, Heinkel clawed at his head. Although he did not know much about the Empire's internal affairs, he was, after all, vice-captain of the Kingdom of Lugunica's Royal Guard.
His position meant he knew far more about other countries than the average person. He had heard the names and epithets of the Nine Divine Generals, the Empire's strongest fighting force. Every one was a warrior of extraordinary strength who could fight a hundred alone.
He had never wanted to come to the Empire in the first place. Priscilla had decided on her own to visit Vollachia, and he had reluctantly accompanied her. He had not the slightest interest in whether this fortified city survived.
However-
"I can't let Lady Priscilla get upset... Even if she becomes king, it'll mean nothing if I've been driven away." (He needed dragon blood to save his sleeping wife, and Priscilla had promised to give it to him after becoming king.)
Priscilla always acted on her whims, leaving him with no idea what she was thinking. By chance, she currently kept him at hand, but if she saw no value in him, it would be no surprise if she suddenly discarded him one day. That alone had to be avoided at all costs. Priscilla was the only rope Heinkel could cling to now, and his last.
"No time to drag our feet. We're driving those flying dragons off. Medium, make sure you command properly!"
"Of course. What do you intend to do, Lord Heinkel?"
"-Me? Whatever I damn well please."
Unlike Medium and Mizelda, Heinkel had no soldiers or companions to lead.
Even when he had, the title of vice-captain of the Royal Guard had been nothing but decoration.
He had only learned the basics of commanding troops once, long ago, and probably no one would listen to his orders anyway. So there had only been one thing he could do from the start.
"-"
His mind made up, Heinkel rushed onto the city hall balcony without waiting for Medium's reply and leaped into the town below. The moment his toes touched a rooftop, he began running and jumped to the next building.
He leaped repeatedly through the wind, heading for the walls surrounding the city. The flying dragons were coming from the west. He jumped onto the towering western wall and steadied his breathing.
The alarm announcing the enemy attack rang deafeningly. Crowds milled in confusion throughout the town, mingled with the shouts of guards urging them to take shelter.
"...Ah, damn it."
The smell of the air had distinctly changed, and the saliva on his tongue tasted bitter. As the scent of blood and steel unique to the battlefield drew closer, Heinkel began hearing a high-pitched phantom noise.
Imperial soldiers rushed onto the western wall alongside him. If Medium's guess was correct, their attacker was one of the Nine Divine Generals.
With what resolve were these soldiers standing against an imperial general? Did they not find it strange, when they all belonged to the imperial army? Or was fighting all that mattered? Would dying on the battlefield satisfy them?
"Damn it, damn it, damn it, every last one of you is a bastard...!"
A black, seething sensation welled up deep in his chest and gradually spread throughout his body. First his heart, then his organs and lower abdomen, then his limbs and fingers. Every inch of him tasted that dark heat, and Heinkel ground his teeth. His hand slowly reached for the sword at his waist-the sword bearing the name Astrea-and gripped its hilt hard.
Then-
"-Eat shit, all of you, you goddamn bastards!!"
As he roared out his irrepressible anger, his blade flashed, and blood spurted from the neck of the flying dragon gliding toward him to bite him to death. Its entire head flew off.
The flying dragons' assault tore apart the fortified city's peace. The incessant alarm and the despairing screams of fleeing people, those two symbols of fear, overlapped seamlessly, turning Guaral into a hell ruled by agonized cries.
No fewer than several hundred flying dragons invaded en masse from the western sky, shattering the people's sense of safety behind the four surrounding walls.
If those impregnable walls, capable of withstanding even the destructive power of magic stone cannons, had a weakness in their absolute defense, it was enemies capable of passing over their towering heights.
Things that could step over the walls, for instance, or rulers of the skies capable of flying over them.
It would be no exaggeration to say that the fortified city faced its most formidable enemy that day.
"-This isn't good."
Avoiding the main street where screams echoed, Flop frowned as he peered out from an alley. Within minutes of spotting the flying dragons' silhouettes in the sky, the situation had snowballed. The fortified city lost its brief peace and was dragged back onto the battlefield of a few days earlier. Only this time, the battle was worse than before.
"The boss (Natsuki Subaru) tried to avoid causing any damage back then... But our opponents this time don't seem interested in that."
Using the bold tactic of dressing as a woman, Subaru had aimed to secure the city's "bloodless surrender." Although it had ended in failure because of the unexpected intrusion of a skilled fighter (Axe King Todd), far less blood had been shed than with other plans.
Flop believed that Subaru undoubtedly deserved the credit for keeping the emotions of the fortified city's residents and the stationed imperial army from deteriorating into extremes. This time, however, they apparently could not expect such gentlemanly conduct from the enemy.
"Eek!"
Beside him, Schult whimpered at the thunderous crash and trembling earth. He could hardly be blamed. The enemy's attacks using flying dragons were fierce and effective.
"Even if all they're doing is having flying dragons carry rocks and drop them from the sky."
It was a primitive, simple, straightforward attack, but tremendously effective. Even a fist-sized stone could cause serious injury, let alone the rocks being dropped, which took both arms to encircle-a direct hit would destroy stone buildings and gouge great holes in the streets. Naturally, the consequences of hitting a person went without saying.
The alley Flop and the others had escaped into was far from safe either. They needed to decide whether to flee into a basement immediately or head for reliable companions.
"Medium and the other commanders are at city hall..."
"L-Lady Priscilla is at the mansion..."
"Oh, I see. The problem is, we're right in the middle of those two places!"
Mizelda and Medium were both leaders with reliable defensive forces. Priscilla's fighting strength, meanwhile, though concentrated in her alone, was not even inferior to that of the Nine Divine Generals. Which destination would be best? While he agonized over it-
"H-help... Aaaaargh!!"
A man fleeing down the street screamed as he reached the alley entrance and vanished.-No, he had not vanished. A flying shadow had snatched him up and carried him into the sky. Some flying dragons were dedicated to attacking the ground rather than dropping stones. There were no gaps in the enemy's tactics.
"Th-that man...!"
"I'd like to save him, but we can't! And we can't just run outside, either. If a flying dragon hooks us with its claws or teeth, all three of us will be carried into the sky."
This alley was by no means safe. It was time to make up his mind.
To escape safely with Schult-
"-Wait, listen to me. Next, I'll-"
Briefly holding his breath, Flop prepared to explain his plan.
At that very instant.
"Ooooooaaaaaah-!!"
"-Gaaah!"
Accompanied by a fierce roar, a huge shadow plummeted from the sky toward the street. The creature that struck the ground with a shrill, dying cry was a flying dragon covered in black blood.
The great flying dragon, whose wingspan measured roughly three to four meters, spread its wings, broken in the fall, and desperately tried to escape. However-
"Don't run! You're not getting away-!"
A figure who had fallen alongside the dragon and rolled violently across the ground leaped onto its back, then drove his sword into the struggling creature, piercing its heart from behind.
After a long, agonized cry, the flying dragon shed bloody tears and collapsed on the spot. And, watching it breathe its last-
"Bastard, son of a bitch..."
His shoulders heaving, a red-haired man climbed down from the dead flying dragon's back. At the sight of him, Schult cried out in Flop's arms.
"Ah! Lord Heinkel! Are you all right?"
"Huh?"
Hearing the cry, the red-haired man turned with an unpleasant attitude. The sight of the blood-drenched man momentarily silenced Schult. Then, eyes wide, Schult wriggled out of Flop's arms and rushed toward him. Seeing him, the man wiped his bloody cheek with his sleeve.
"Oh, it's you, squirt."
"L-Lord Heinkel, you're red all over! A-are you badly hurt somewhere!?"
"Hurt? Oh, this thing's blood splashed on me. I am hurt, but they're just scratches."
"R-really? You're really all right...?"
Shocked, Schult reached out to check the man's blood-soaked body. Looking down at the boy, who paid no heed to dirtying his hands and clothes, the man sighed. Their exchange made Flop release the breath he had held after making his decision.
"Mr. Butler, it seems there's no need to worry. He's not putting on a brave face. He really does seem unhurt."
"You... You've got no idea what's going on. Are you protecting this squirt?"
"I'm a little surprised to be told I have no idea what's going on, but that's right! Though really, I've only been running around with Mr. Butler. I'm relieved you're here."
As Flop said this with a smile, the bloodstained man-Heinkel-looked away. It was not embarrassment, but displeasure. In fact, he even clicked his tongue.
Still, it was a fact that he had dispatched the flying dragon and reassured Schult. Like Schult, Heinkel was one of Priscilla's attendants.
Since he carried a sword around, Flop had assumed he could fight, but he had not expected such skill. In fact, the copious blood staining his body red was proof that he had slain multiple flying dragons.
"We're planning to go to Lady Priscilla now! What about you, Lord Heinkel?"
"To Lady Priscilla?... That'd be safer for you. But-"
Heinkel glanced at the flying dragon's corpse, then looked between Schult, Flop, and the others. The uncertainty in his eyes probably meant he was considering how to adjust his plans. Though that was hardly enough to base a judgment on.
"Right now, very few places in this city could be called safe. But the only enemies we can see are flying dragons... In that case, going to a building with a basement, or using spices, might help."
"Spices?"
Listening to Flop count off suggestions on his fingers, Utaka-ta looked bewildered. When he looked over, Heinkel was regarding him suspiciously too. Indeed, basements aside, someone unfamiliar with flying dragon ecology would not think of using spices.
"Flying dragons have a very keen sense of smell and can detect blood from far away. Conversely, they're creatures that dislike strong, irritating odors. So if we sprinkle pepper all over ourselves first, perhaps they'll find us too unpleasant to approach."
"...You know a lot."
"Despite appearances, I am a traveling merchant who goes all over! And I happened to meet someone who knows flying dragons very well. Possibly better than anyone else in the Empire!"
That said, most of what he had heard from that person concerned flying dragons' good qualities, so he was not happy about this opportunity to confront them. Still, none of the knowledge he had gained was false.
Meeting up with Heinkel, who could fight, was sheer good fortune for Flop and the others, but it could not be called entirely fortunate for the war engulfing the whole fortified city. The reason was-
"I can't say for certain that having Mr. Redhead protect us is the best choice."
Heinkel, who could take on a flying dragon alone, was a valuable fighting asset to a city under attack by countless flying dragons. He would probably be one of the main factors determining how the battle developed and which side won.
Thus, having three people unable to fight accompany him was not a good thing. But deciding not to depend on someone reliable was a difficult choice, reached only after an inner struggle.
"We'll evade the flying dragons' eyes and noses and escape to a basement. Sorry for the trouble, Mr. Redhead, but could you escort us to a nearby restaurant or storehouse? Help confuse their eyes and ears... No, their noses. Then we'll manage on our own."
"Master Flop..."
Apparently never having considered splitting up, Schult was startled by Flop's suggestion.
"Understood. I'll do my best with Master Flop and the others! So please be careful not to get hurt either, Lord Heinkel..."
"-Don't drag me into this on your own. Why should I have to do what you say?"
"Huh!?"
But that resolve came to nothing as Heinkel spoke with a frown. Wiping the blood and flesh off his sword with his cloak, he gestured around them with his chin.
"Let's get one thing straight. I have no obligations or responsibility toward this city. Failing to protect this squirt is much more likely to upset Lady Priscilla than not joining the fight. And I want no part of that."
"W-wait, wait, wait, Mr. Redhead! Please wait! Are you saying that pleasing that princess is more important than protecting the city? That's just..."
"-Exactly."
"-"
His categorical affirmation made Flop recoil. He stared at Flop's face, blue eyes gleaming in his bloodstained features. In that dark gleam, Flop saw his powerful obsession.
"To me, there's something more important than this city or other people's lives. It's not that squirt. It's something Lady Priscilla, who dotes on him, has to give me. To get it, I don't care who dies or how many people die. (Dragon blood, to save his wife.)"
"Mr. Redhead..."
"For starters, neither you nor I are anyone important. Know your own worth. There's only so much we can do. Don't try anything beyond your abilities. You'll just make a laughingstock of yourself."
"-"
"Nobody can become a sword."
Spitting out those contemptuous words, he reached for Schult's shoulder. His small shoulder seized, the young boy looked up at him with damp eyes, filled with fear-
"Lord Heinkel, you look like you're hurting."
-No, not fear. It should have been called pity.
The boy's sincere gaze made Heinkel's cheek stiffen slightly. But it could not shake his resolve.
"I'm taking these squirts to Lady Priscilla. Follow if you want. But don't expect me to protect you."
With that, he took hold of Schult, turned his back on Flop and the others, and stepped onto the main street, intending to return to the mansion where Priscilla was. Flop was torn too, wondering whether he ought to heed his advice and follow close behind-
"-Are you the one who killed the dragon?"
In an instant, a shadow descended with those words and landed on the ground with a tremendous crash.
"-"
The sudden intruder kicked up dust and gouged a great hole in the ground. Moreover, a small figure stood motionless with her arms crossed directly before Heinkel, who had intended to take Schult away, as though blocking his path.
At first glance, it took some time to understand what she was. What had happened simply did not match the impression the figure gave.
A small stature paired with a cute face, unblemished snow-white skin, and pale blue clothing that emphasized her endearing qualities. (The flying dragon girl among the Nine Divine Generals.)
In apparent age, she was little different from Schult, making it difficult to imagine that she had just appeared with an impact that shattered the ground. But what had happened was entirely real, and no one could deny it.
The newcomer narrowed her golden eyes, looked down upon the four people standing in the street, and nodded. Then-
"You shall pay for making a dragon bleed by spilling every last drop of your own blood-fools."
The moment he saw the girl's figure amid the smoke, alarm bells went off inside Flop's head. They were not the actual bells ringing throughout Guaral, but warnings from his own survival instincts, clamoring so loudly inside his skull that his head hurt.
To be honest, unlike Medium, Flop was not a fighter. He had once tried to train his body, only to give up after a setback. Besides, he did not want to take away the role his little sister had carefully chosen for herself after realizing that touching her brother's wounds actually hurt him. As a result, he possessed neither a warrior's instincts nor a swordsman's eye.
Even so-
"-That girl is trouble."
He swallowed bitter saliva as he watched the girl, whose impact upon landing had punched a hole in the ground. The short girl narrowed her golden eyes and looked down on the four of them.
She looked two or three years older than Schult and Utaka-ta, but the aura she gave off was like Medium's and Mizelda's-no, it was every bit their equal, perhaps even more dangerous. The threat she posed felt similar to that of the member of the Nine Divine Generals who had taken Mizelda's right leg.
"...Mr. Redhead, can you find a way to create an opening? Even if it's only for Mr. Butler and the girl, please find some way to let them escape."
Flop quietly addressed his suggestion to Heinkel, the only one present with any fighting ability. Having demonstrated enough swordsmanship to slay a flying dragon, surely he could protect the two children better than Flop could by acting as a human shield. Ideally, Heinkel would be strong enough to defeat this girl. That would be even better.
"Mr. Redhead?"
Keeping an eye on the girl, Flop wondered why Heinkel had not answered and stole a glance at his profile.
-Heinkel's eyes were wide, and an astonishing amount of cold sweat covered his ashen face.
"L-Lord Heinkel? Are you all right?"
"Ugh, ah..."
As Flop noticed something was wrong with him, Schult noticed it too. At the voice expressing concern for him, Heinkel's expression stiffened, and he let out an incoherent groan.
No one else could have known that his reaction meant he knew who the girl was. But whether it made sense or not, if there was one clear fact, it was-
"What, you're scared?"
Narrowing her eyes, the girl shifted her gaze to the legs of the motionless Heinkel. They were trembling, barely steady enough to keep him standing. Anyone with eyes could tell that this was cowardice and fear-in other words, despair.
"Well, well! A pleasure to meet you, miss. Could I trouble you to hear me out?"
Recognizing Heinkel's despair at a glance, Flop immediately raised his voice. Heinkel's and Schult's shoulders both jolted, while the girl before them gave him a suspicious look.
A gaze could not kill, but hers carried such crushing pressure that it would not have seemed strange if it really did. Still, Flop encouraged himself inwardly, relaxed his cheeks, and spread his hands, forcing a smile.
"I'm Flop O'Connell, an insignificant traveling merchant. I'm rather confused after getting caught up in this serious situation. You seem to know more about what's happening than I do?"
"-. Caught up in it? Then you're unlucky."
"Oh, 'unlucky' isn't something I'm used to hearing. I have plenty of shortcomings, but I've always considered good luck my one strong point. Why would you call someone like me unlucky?"
"The rotten old man said I could kill everyone in this city." (The imperial chancellor sent the flying dragon girl to suppress the rebellion. Later, that old chancellor will also send people to Sword Slave Island to carry out a massacre, but our boy Subaru will win a complete victory.)
The girl answered with a jerk of her chin at their surroundings. Flop gave a wry smile, but inwardly, he was not smiling wryly at all. He was in a state of extreme panic and unease. If her aim was to kill every resident of the city, what room was there to negotiate?
"From what I've heard, that rotten old gentleman apparently said wiping out the city was a mistake. Why not check again with the friends or companions who came with you?"
"I have no friends or companions. Where a dragon stands, there are only kin and enemies.-You, do not mock a dragon. You seem not to know fear."
"I wouldn't dream of mocking you! I only want us to get along. First, we'd just like to ask your name. Isn't that right?"
"Y-Yes! We'd like to know your name! I'm Schult!"
As the girl began to look displeased, Schult hurriedly raised his hand and introduced himself. Forced to learn their names, the girl furrowed her brow and said:
"-Madelyn Eschart. This dragon is one of the Nine Divine Generals."
"The Nine...!"
The title of the girl who had politely introduced herself in a flat tone-Madelyn-left Heinkel aghast.
His legs, which had been trembling just from facing her, shook even worse upon hearing the title that vouched for her strength. But Flop could not laugh at Heinkel either. He had thought she was as dangerous as one of the Nine Divine Generals, but he had not expected her to actually be one. And-
"-Miss Utaka-ta." (A child from the Shudraq Tribe, one of the companions present.)
In a calm tone, Flop called the name of the person who had changed the situation.
The young girl he had addressed, Utaka-ta, was staring at Madelyn with an arrow already nocked.
The enemy was about seven or eight meters away, a distance at which even her skills would keep her from missing. That said, this did not give her the advantage in the slightest.
"This enemy, leader of flying dragon flock. Defeat leader, war ends."
"I-Is that so!?"
"That's probably correct. As long as none of the other Nine Divine Generals are here."
Flop glanced at Madelyn, but she made no comment. Judging by her behavior so far, she was a child who responded to what they said accordingly.
If they had said something obviously wrong, a reaction from her would have been natural. In other words, Madelyn was directing the attack on the fortress city. Defeating her might make the flying dragons withdraw, so Utaka-ta's judgment was probably right. The only problem was that it did not seem possible.
"You're a warrior. You're a warrior too. And you... aren't running. You're a warrior."
"Huh... do you mean me?"
"Yes. You're a warrior too."
Suddenly singled out and assessed this way, Schult opened his eyes wide. Madelyn, who had startled him, pointed her small hand at Utaka-ta, Flop, and Schult in turn, calling them "warriors." Then her finger moved to the last of them, Heinkel-
"You're not a warrior. You killed a dragon, yet you cower."
"Ugh...!"
"Draw your sword. This dragon will crush you. According to how much blood you made my kin spill."
As she spoke, Madelyn slowly took a step toward them. Her steps were steady, and she paid no heed to Utaka-ta's bow aimed at her. She closed the distance, heading toward Heinkel, who had killed a flying dragon.
"-Hit!"
With that shout, an arrow shot toward Madelyn's chest.
But Madelyn raised a hand and caught the arrow flying straight at her between two fingers. She did not even look toward Utaka-ta, keeping her gaze fixed on Heinkel.
"Mr. Redhead!"
"Lord Heinkel!"
Realizing the danger, Flop shouted, and Schult tried to pull Heinkel's hand, but Heinkel brushed him away and moved away on his own.
Schult fell onto his backside, while Heinkel glared at Madelyn and gritted his teeth.
"Oh, oooooh...!"
He poured every ounce of strength into his sword hand and clenched his teeth until his cheeks flushed, rousing his blood as he tried to crush head-on the cowardice that made his legs tremble.
Madelyn's feet still did not stop. She continued to close the distance between them.
Facing the formidable enemy who intended to wipe out the fortress city, Heinkel prepared to strike with everything he had-
"-Oh."
With a clang, the sword slipped from his trembling hand and fell to the ground.
"You're no warrior after all."
Madelyn's scornful words struck his face along with her fist.
The blow carried a fierce gust, and that single punch made Heinkel's eyes roll back. His body flew away at astonishing speed and struck a stone building, leaving human-shaped cracks in its wall.
But the vicious punch that had knocked him unconscious in one blow was clearly not enough to quell Madelyn's anger.
"Gah."
As Heinkel's body slumped forward, a fist slammed into the bridge of his nose. The back of his head struck the wall, and as his body rebounded, the girl kicked him hard. The impact tore through his body, and the entire house behind Heinkel collapsed.
Madelyn grabbed his leg as he fell and hurled him in the opposite direction with brute force. His unconscious body rolled and rolled along the road until it struck a wall and stopped. Finally, Heinkel lay sprawled on the ground, utterly motionless.
"-"
To Flop, those had been lethal attacks.
Most people, not just Flop, would die from taking even one such blow. He did not know whether even Medium could withstand them all, and after taking them in succession, Heinkel's survival was now uncertain.
But Madelyn, whose trade was battle, would not permit such a halfhearted contest.
"Useless coward."
Making no attempt to hide her contempt, Madelyn reached behind her, undid the clasp on the bundle she carried, and snapped open the weapon stored inside.
The folded blades opened into the shape of wide-spread scissors. It was a hunting weapon used by the nomadic peoples of the grasslands, a throwing weapon called a "wingblade."
Thrown by a skilled user, it could strike and finish off prey a hundred meters away.
However, the wingblade Madelyn carried was as long as she was tall, and it had been fitted with a handle so it could serve as a close-combat weapon as well. It was a rare, custom-made piece.
That vicious weapon was about to be hurled at the fallen Heinkel.
"Could you stop, Miss Madelyn? I know you're angry. Having your companions killed must fill you with rage. But when people are attacked, they have no choice but to fight back."
Biting his lip to remind himself to stay alert, Flop addressed Madelyn. With the wingblade already in her hand, the girl answered without turning toward him:
"Do not misunderstand. Dragons are the greatest creatures in this world. Since you dare bite a dragon, it is only natural that you be exterminated. And-"
"And?"
"How could the wrongdoing of such a spineless coward possibly be forgiven?"
Madelyn's golden eyes quivered with anger, and only then did Flop understand why she was furious.
Naturally, she was angry that her kin had been killed, but what enraged her most was that Heinkel, who had slain a flying dragon, had dropped his sword and could not fight.
She was furious that her kin had been killed by an opponent beneath contempt.
-This was an insult not only to Heinkel, but also to the flying dragon he had killed.
"Don't move."
"Aagh!"
"Ugh!"
With that curt order, Madelyn kicked the pebbles at her feet. In an instant, they struck Flop's foot and Utaka-ta's hand as she prepared to nock another arrow, hindering their movements.
At the same time, Madelyn raised the wingblade, about to swing it down at Heinkel-
"N-No-!"
Unlike the two who had been struck by pebbles, Schult, whom she had not been guarding against, rushed forward in desperation. He covered Heinkel with his small body, trying to withstand the storm with flesh and blood.
But Madelyn was not gentle enough to stay her hand at the sight of the boy's reckless courage.
"No matter who you are, none of you will survive anyway."
Her golden eyes narrowed, and the wingblade descended toward Schult's head.