Chapter 225: Ignisia the Elder Dragon (4)
Ignisia granted Ketal full freedom within her dragon’s lair, a gesture that was anything but casual. There was a reason behind her decision, one rooted in curiosity and calculation. She had already uncovered the fundamentals of Ketal’s existence: what he was, where he had come from, and the scale of his power.
Yet, for all that, she remained in the dark about Ketal as a person. She did not know what drove him, what his values and philosophies were, or what he truly desired. Ketal had introduced himself as an ally to the world, but the true meaning behind those words remained unclear.
Ignisia’s memories drifted to a recent conversation with the Tower Master, back when she had visited to discuss Nano from the Forest of Nothingness.
Even the monsters of those empty woods had once claimed to be allies, at least in their own warped logic. She recalled the tales of Nano: beings who, under the purest intentions, sought to help the world by replacing it entirely. Its actions were monstrous, even if the motives were oddly innocent.
Of course, Ketal had met the gods themselves, so such misunderstandings were less likely in his case. Still, Ignisia felt she needed to see the truth with her own eyes. It was part personal curiosity, part pragmatic investigation. Her earlier attempt to seduce Ketal had been as much a test as it was an indulgence.
Now, as she busied herself crafting the catalyst, she whispered a spell beneath her breath. “I want to understand his actions.”
Her words carried the weight of Dragon Tongue. With a subtle pulse of magic, Ignisia’s senses opened up to Ketal’s every move within her lair.
She watched intently and discreetly, eager to see what choices he would make when left alone. And what she found was nothing like she had expected.
He isn’t touching anything? she mused.
This was a dragon’s lair—an elder dragon’s, at that. Gold, silver, and gems glittered in careless piles. Masterworks of art and enchanted artifacts, some thousands of years old, were scattered about as if they were mere trinkets. Ancient wines, priceless even to a king, collected dust on forgotten shelves.
Anyone would have been tempted. Even the most ascetic monk would have felt their resolve waver. Ignisia had explicitly told Ketal to take anything he liked, hoping to gauge the measure of his desire.
However, Ketal’s reaction was underwhelming. He expressed polite interest, wandering and examining things with open curiosity. He admired certain treasures and occasionally picked up a particularly strange artifact or a rare item, turning it over in his hands with childlike fascination.