Chapter 138 : Dragon's Blood (4)
Chapter 138: Dragon's Blood (4)
Lian stared blankly at the sword in his hand.
‘What…?’
Not a single drop of blood stained the blade.
And yet, just moments ago, he had clearly swung this sword and severed Airos’s arm.
What on earth had happened?
“Hoo.”
Airos let out a sigh as he quietly looked down at his severed arm.
“I suppose I should be glad it was my arm and not my neck.”
His voice carried a complex mix of emotions.
After gazing at his detached limb for a moment, as if savoring the sight, Airos picked up his severed forearm.
“Hmm.”
As he let out a short groan, something rose up with a gurgling sound.
Something writhed like a living snake, intertwining rapidly, and within mere seconds, a new arm had formed.
It was a sight that instinctively provoked revulsion.
“……What on earth did you do?”
Airos asked, flexing his newly grown arm a couple of times.
He was staring at Lian with a deeper interest than he had shown before.
“I won’t brag, but my skin is so tough that ordinary spears and blades can’t pierce it. But this time, because of that sword, I was at least prepared for it to reach the bone. However…”
He looked down once more at his fallen arm on the ground.
Striding over, he picked it up and examined the cut surface.
“……It’s been severed so cleanly, I’ve never seen anything like it. You couldn’t slice butter this neatly.”
He muttered in awe, shaking his head.
“You ignored the surface and only cut the inside? No, if that were the case, the outer flesh should still be intact… Come on, tell me. What trick did you pull?”
Hearing those words, Lian, who had been somewhat suspecting it already, now felt certain.
That last attack was clearly the power of the Brand.
And it wasn’t merely a simple activation of power.
It had merged with the technique Airos had taught him, resonating together to create a synergistic effect.
‘Even so…’
Even if Airos hadn’t resisted, he had sliced through a Dragon’s body with no resistance at all.
Staggered by the power that had far exceeded his expectations, Lian reflexively clenched his hand.
As he looked down at the sword, Airos’s sigh suddenly echoed in his ears.
“……Well, I suppose you wouldn’t tell me so easily. You can forget what I just said.”
With that, he tilted his head slightly toward Lian.
“We’d better try it one more time.”
“Will that be alright?”
In response to Lian’s question, Airos raised his palm as if to stop him.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have a taste for masochism.”
He pointed toward a massive tree.
“This time, try cutting that instead of me.”
Lian nodded and readjusted his grip on the sword.
Recalling the sensation from just before, he swung the blade again.
Slice.
The tree was felled without the slightest resistance.
As if it had never been there to begin with.
Though his speed was slightly slower than earlier, he could still feel the Brand resonating with his sword again.
‘Wait, in that case…’
A thought struck Lian, and he suddenly swung his sword at the remaining tree stump.
This time, he didn’t use Airos’s technique—just a regular sword slash.
Thud!
With a loud noise, the blade dug deep into the tree.
A completely different scene from moments ago.
‘Even though I tried to use the Brand, there was no reaction this time at all…’
Though still confused, he had a vague sense of what might trigger this power.
‘Speed.’
Could it be that once a certain threshold was crossed, the power engraved in the Brand naturally resonated?
Or perhaps he was simply becoming more accustomed to the Brand.
Or maybe there was something else entirely he wasn’t aware of.
“……Good.”
Whatever the case, the fact remained that he now had a highly dangerous offensive tool at his disposal.
It was more than enough—almost exhilarating.
‘I won’t be able to use this in a sparring match with Allen.’
With a wry laugh, Lian pulled the sword from the tree.
Watching him, Airos could only let out a sigh, sounding deflated.
“I was trying to teach you a grappling technique, and you were hiding a secret technique all along. Well, no matter. What’s given is given, so practice it diligently.”
Airos nodded.
“Seeing you succeed twice in a row, it seems you’ve grasped the sense of it. I probably don’t need to guide you further. Once you’ve mastered it, you’ll be able to use it even more sharply.”
“Yes. Thank you, Airos.”
“And when you use it with your own strength, make sure to reinforce your body.”
For once, Airos spoke in a warning tone.
“Just now, my strength bore the entire burden. But next time, you’ll have to bear it yourself. If used carelessly, it’s no exaggeration to say your arm might fall off.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
With that, Airos began walking toward Lian.
Then, without hesitation and with a casual demeanor, he skewered his own severed arm onto Lian’s sword like a piece of meat on a skewer.
“What are you doing?”
“Giving your sword a bit of my blood.”
Airos replied flatly.
“There are so many legends about Dragon’s blood that I don’t even need to explain. Just know it’ll come in handy, so take it.”
He then brought the mouth of an empty canteen to the sword blade.
As the blood flowed down the blade, Airos smacked his lips softly.
“……You asked me how to control the blood of a half-dragon, didn’t you.”
“Yes.”
“You spoke as if you knew well, but in truth, I don’t know much myself. As you can see, I’m not a half-dragon.”
His blood gurgled as it filled the canteen.
Watching it calmly, Airos let out a faint groan.
“But among us… Dragons, sometimes when our young lose their minds, the parent wounds themselves and feeds them their blood.”
“You feed them blood?”
“Yes. Then they come to their senses immediately.”
Eventually, once the canteen was filled to the brim with blood, Airos sealed its mouth tightly with a stopper.
Handing it carefully to Lian, he gave a small shrug, as if to say, “What else can I do?”
“I can only hope it proves just as effective for half-dragons. I don’t have any other way.”
“……No, thank you.”
Lian cautiously accepted the canteen.
It sloshed heavily, filled with his blood—Dragon’s blood.
“It’s strange to say this after giving it to you, but… I hope you won’t ever need to use it.”
Airos looked at Lian with a conflicted expression.
Clutching the canteen of Dragon’s blood tightly, Lian spoke.
“……Yes. I hope I never have to use it, either.”
“Dragon’s blood, right?”
Anguster paused mid-sip and suddenly made the comment.
He was already quite drunk.
His face was flushed, and his eyes were glazed, yet his voice remained oddly clear.
“……”
Professor Shagas quietly looked at him.
Though they had only shared a few drinks, fatigue was already weighing on him.
With a faint smirk on his lips, Anguster continued.
“Don’t bother hiding it. The rumors are everywhere, Elder.”
He let out a drunken chuckle, gesturing exaggeratedly as drunks do.
His cup wobbled, and the remaining liquor spilled out.
“They say the hero of the Plains War, Shagas, suddenly became a professor. And now he has a young woman from Garusol as his assistant… What exactly are you thinking?”
His tone was a mixture of curiosity and ridicule.
But there was something else in his eyes.
Shagas quietly set his drink down without taking a sip.
“There seems to be a lot of needless chatter.”
“Utterly ridiculous fools, they are.”
Anguster scoffed under his breath.
Words unfit to be spoken and fragments of curses swirled together with the liquor.
“They yap away, though they can’t do anything themselves. If they were half as competent as their wagging tongues, this country wouldn’t be in the sorry state it’s in.”
To that, Shagas let out a dry laugh.
“You’re quite drunk.”
“If not now, then when should I drink?”
Anguster shrugged and raised his glass again.
But before he could finish it, he murmured under his breath, gazing off into space.
“……Everything’s broken.”
He let out a deep sigh.
“Comrades, life, honor, glory, the past, the future, even the present.”
Shagas silently looked at his face.
In those eyes, he could read countless emotions not so different from his own.
Longing. Regret. Anger. And even loss.
“……So.”
Anguster spoke again.
“Her name was Yuran, wasn’t it?”
Shagas furrowed his brow slightly as he looked at him.
Anguster kept his gaze on the cup, muttering.
“Yes, Yuran. I haven’t seen her myself, but the rumors are rather loud.”
Shagas placed his cup down and spoke calmly.
“What is it you want to say?”
“I’m a bit hurt.”
Anguster smiled slowly.
“Surely, you didn’t keep her away from me thinking I’d say something weird if we met?”
He said it like a joke, but something heavier lurked beneath it.
“I’m not that much of a fool, Elder.”
“……I know. You were always quite sharp.”
Anguster rotated his cup slowly, his voice low.
“I’m not the kind of man who would snatch someone else’s prey. Least of all yours, Elder.”
Thunk.
Shagas’s hand stopped mid-motion.
He slowly set his cup down.
“……What do you mean by that?”
“Well, she’s Dragon’s blood, isn’t she? And fresh, too.”
Anguster smiled meaningfully and tapped his cup.
“Among those dreadful Garusol folks, she’s from one of the most ruthless lines. Who would’ve thought you’d bring in a descendant of theirs?”
“……”
Shagas stared at Anguster in silence.
At the same time, he could clearly see the unfiltered desire in his eyes.
It wasn’t some base lust.
It was something far more dangerous—an obsession laced with perilous longing.
Shagas let out a long sigh.
“Yuran is my student.”
His voice was not just firm, but cold.
“She is like a granddaughter to me. I brought her here to make her my successor.”
As he spoke, the smile faded from Anguster’s lips.
Meeting his gaze with ice-cold eyes, Shagas spoke.
“Whatever you’re imagining… you’re wrong. Don’t misunderstand.”
Furthermore—
Shagas made no attempt to hide the quiet anger in his voice.
“Don’t speak of her like that again. I’ve let it go once out of our past ties, but that was deeply unpleasant. If you insult her again, I’ll take it as an insult to me. Keep that in mind.”
“……”
The air turned heavy.
Anguster looked at Shagas, then slowly lowered his head.
“My apologies, Elder.”
He quickly added, as if to excuse himself.
“That wasn’t my intention. I’m… just a little too drunk, it seems.”
Though Shagas continued to glare at him coldly, he said nothing more.
“……Well then, I suppose it’s time we wrapped this up.”
Shagas spoke in a quiet voice.
“We wouldn’t want to stir up trouble right before the Departure Festival. Besides, it’s about time we welcomed our arriving guests. Your comrades will likely be showing up too.”
At those words, Anguster murmured softly.
“Comrades.”
He muttered again, low and distant.
“Yes, of course.”
Then, finishing the last of his drink in one go, he spoke.
“For the sake of my comrades, I should start getting a grip.”
Clack.
The empty cup landed on the table.
That sound echoed strangely hollow in the air.