Chapter 60: Love
With help from both dragons and humans alike, Jett saved many more lives. He also met several newcomers who ranked high in the continent’s hierarchy, like fellow dragonslayers and the Stormcloud Duke. He sternly warned the dragonslayers to keep their identities and powers hidden, knowing that even his considerable influence might not shield them from reprisals. Jett then chose to partner closely with the Stormcloud Duke to carry out his wider mission.
Meanwhile, his maids and allied forces kept rescuing survivors while painstakingly recovering the ever‑increasing number of corpses. Faithfully returning each body to its grieving family was equally crucial. Yet the sight of so many bodies piled together in one blasted clearing darkened Jett’s mood even further.
Stormcloud Duke Galester, who had exchanged only a brief introduction with Jett, stole occasional glances at him. Strangely, his lips kept curving into a faint smile. Perhaps that fleeting expression was why he soon felt compelled to share his personal thoughts with the young Warden.
"Lord Warden, your expression mirrors my younger self," he said. "Back then my father forced me to face brutal reality, shattering my naïve ideal of a perfect Duke at that tender, hopeful age."
Like Jett, Galester yearned to wield real influence. Because he was fated to inherit the Stormcloud Dukedom, his ideal of a perfect Duke meant keeping everyone happy without demanding sacrifices. In truth, he never considered sacrifices at all—neither those he might have to make nor those his subjects might bear.
The younger version of him dwelled only on positives, forever plotting how to enhance what already seemed good. He assumed that, once he became Duke, few could threaten him. The complexities of noblesse obligation failed to enter his sheltered calculations at that time.
"My father personally toured me across the entire Dukedom. I witnessed countless slums, destitute villages, grasping nobles, and of course bloody wars—especially proxy wars—all firsthand. I kept bombarding him with questions: ’We are wealthy, so why can’t we spare a little for the poor?’ ’We are powerful, so why can’t we intervene and end these conflicts?’ and so forth."
Jett stared straight into the man’s eyes, eager to hear all the answers.
Galester smiled. "My father told me there will always be poor people. The best service nobles can offer is aiding those who truly wish to better themselves. We cut taxes, built special mills powered by wind enchantments for nearly free mana output, and launched countless programs for the needy—yet some never appreciated the help, or simply couldn’t capitalize on it. In desperation, a few even sold the gift mills to foreign powers, an act of outright treason. Regarding wars, he said we could only engage through proxy; if we intervened directly, we would bleed ourselves weak and let rivals sweep in to claim both sides with minimal cost of time and resources to us. Those lessons, and the scenes I witnessed throughout our Dukedom, widened my perspective and revealed what truly matters. They impressed upon me that leadership demands foresight, restraint, and unflinching resolve even when critics howl loudly in rage back. Still, one thing within me remains unchanged: I am, above all, willing to make sacrificial choices."
He glanced at the stub where the arm he’d sacrificed to slay a dragon once hung. If he had to forfeit the other, he would gladly do so to buy even a moment more for his people. Jett’s respect for the Duke deepened considerably, and gratitude warmed his chest further inside.
"Thank you," Jett said.