TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 28

Zeman stared at the scene before him, sensing something was amiss.

In the dream, had Albin never seen him? Or had he simply never seen a Demon Dragon?

The white-haired boy looked around fourteen years old, dressed like a noble. His surroundings suggested a life of comfort and privilege.

Nobles held hunting rights, granting them access to a variety of game. They indulged in gluttony, flaunting their wealth, status, and might through copious consumption of meat and fat.

Given Albin’s magical talent, whether he became a cleric or grew under Edward’s guidance, he ought to have been well cared for, eating the finest game. How, then, could he appear so frail?

The boy standing before him had a thin and delicate frame. Bandages, often reserved for the injured, peeked out from beneath his loose, lacy sleeves. His lips were unnaturally pale, his breathing weak and shallow—nothing like a healthy child.

Even if raised in an ordinary household, he wouldn’t have turned out this way.

Was he ill?

Though Zeman knew it was a dream, he couldn’t suppress the ache in his heart.

What puzzled him further was why he was having such a dream.

Was it because he was worried about Albin’s future after his departure?

The dream continued. The white-haired boy drew closer, and the Demon Dragon, eyes cold as ice, growled at him: “Get lost.”

This choice of words made Zeman certain the two had never met in the dream.

He would never speak to Albin like that.

The white-haired boy hesitated, stopping in his tracks. His frail figure looked as if it might be blown away by the Demon Dragon’s roar.

“Sir Dragon, I’m not here to slay you,” he said after steadying himself, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the Demon Dragon’s magnificent form. “I can understand the language of magical beings.”

“Magical beings?” The Demon Dragon regarded him as a humanoid creature, his gaze still icy. “I don’t welcome any living thing here.”

The Demon Dragon’s cold and dangerous demeanor made Zeman frown, worried that something might happen to the white-haired boy.

The boy dropped his empty hands to his sides, a serene smile playing on his lips. “I just have a question for you—was it you who killed the Sun Temple’s Holy Son, Zeman, who disappeared six years ago near Thorn City?”

The Demon Dragon’s aura grew more menacing.

“It was me,” he said icily.

At that moment, Zeman thought that if he hadn’t met Albin, he might have simply chosen a place to quietly await death.

But without meeting him, what would have become of Albin?

A dreadful premonition gripped Zeman’s heart.

Even though he knew it was just a dream, he couldn’t resist watching further.

He desperately hoped things hadn’t turned out as he feared.

Upon hearing the Demon Dragon’s response, the white-haired boy appeared momentarily confused.

“Strange…” he murmured to himself.

Suddenly, the boy asked, “Sir Dragon, do you hate the gods?”

The Demon Dragon did not reply.

“Based on records from the past six years, humans have continuously come to hunt you, calling you the World-Destroying Demon Dragon.” Albin continued, “Despite the overwhelming difference in strength, some humans have returned alive, because you never actively attack humans.”

The Demon Dragon scoffed. “They’re just ants.”

The white-haired boy smiled knowingly. “No, I can tell—it’s because you don’t want to lose control and become a rampaging monster. You’ve isolated yourself from others, suppressing the rage brought on by the curse.”

“That’s precisely why…” His frail face lit up with a smile, his crimson eyes unwavering. “I want to invite you to join us, to help us eliminate the gods, lift the curse on magical beings, and create a world where we can coexist peacefully.”

The Demon Dragon’s gaze shifted, studying the boy for the first time with genuine interest.

“Slay the gods?” His tone was tinged with complex emotions, his gaze deep. “I won’t join any organization.”

“I figured as much. I heard you’ve rejected many offers from magical beings in the past,” the white-haired boy said, unsurprised. “I simply wanted to let you know our intentions. We’ll continue working toward this goal, and perhaps one day, you’ll be willing to join us.”

“If we can’t earn your approval, then we won’t be strong enough to slay the gods.”

After all, the Demon Dragon before him was likely the strongest being beneath the gods.

The Demon Dragon stared at the confident white-haired boy, puzzled.

“Do you believe you can succeed?”

“Hmm…” The boy pondered, then unexpectedly said, “Not at all!”

The Demon Dragon narrowed his eyes, almost thinking the boy was mocking him.

“But all magical beings desire to break the curse. Even if we fail, I believe there will be others who follow in our footsteps.” His eyes gleamed with hope. “What we do now will pave the way for future generations to go further.”

He took a light step forward, gazing at the Demon Dragon in fascination. “For instance, if I can convince you to join our plan to slay the gods, it’ll make it easier for others. Maybe it’ll even inspire other magical beings with the same goal to join us, creating a positive cycle!”

The Demon Dragon’s deep voice replied, “You’ll live longer than I will.”

Magical beings lived as long as humans; the remainder of a young boy’s life would certainly outlast his.

“Just a figure of speech.” The white-haired boy smiled, brushing off the comment. “I’ll do my best until the end of my life.”

The fact that they were having a conversation suggested that the Demon Dragon wasn’t entirely averse to him. The boy, confident, shared their progress and future plans. He couldn’t simply present a lofty vision without tangible updates.

“We’ve verified the existence of the Spear of Godslaying and plan to investigate its whereabouts in the Rose Kingdom.”

“I also have a king friend who found a secret in his palace archives: all temple priests and holy sons might be vessels for the gods. Some kings are aware of this, using it to curry favor with the gods and even attempting to purify their bloodlines through priestly offspring…”

“Additionally, we’ve discovered some strange ancient tablets with inscriptions, and we’re working on deciphering them…”

The Demon Dragon interrupted suddenly. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll reveal your plans? You know I’m lenient toward humans.”

Exposing these matters would surely bring the wrath of human forces.

The white-haired boy chuckled, as if the Demon Dragon had said something amusing.

“I trust you, Sir Dragon.” His gaze met the Demon Dragon’s, as though seeing through him, and he declared firmly, “You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“Even if, against all odds, it happens, it would still narrow the choices for future successors.”

The white-haired boy mused, “Now that I think about it, I should show my sincerity and offer you some hush money.”

The Demon Dragon glanced at him indifferently, doubting he had anything that could move him.

“May I visit you often to chat, Sir Dragon?” His bright eyes reflected the Demon Dragon’s form. “I’ll bring gifts!”

The Demon Dragon responded with a silent stare: […]

Was this so-called “hush money” merely a ploy to keep his mouth shut with endless chatter?

However… As he looked into the boy’s expectant eyes, he found himself unable to refuse.

It had been six years since he’d last spoken much with anyone. Every human and magical creature who approached him had either fled in fear or been struck down.

He had nearly forgotten that he, too, was once human.

Only this innocent boy showed no fear of him, daring even to approach.

Come to think of it… The Demon Dragon glanced down, noticing the distance between himself and the white-haired boy had shortened considerably since the beginning. Was it just his imagination?

Looking up, he saw the white-haired boy flashing a gentle, innocent smile, hastily pulling back the foot that had been inching closer.

It wasn’t his imagination.

In response to the boy’s hopeful expression, the Demon Dragon said indifferently, “Suit yourself. If you wish to court death, I won’t stop you.”

The white-haired boy’s eyes sparkled brighter at this and, emboldened, he asked, “Then… Sir Dragon, can I touch you?”

The Demon Dragon couldn’t fathom the boy’s intentions in approaching him further.

Could he be planning an attack?

It was possible that his earlier words had been a tactic to get close.

The Demon Dragon observed him coldly but made no move to stop him.

He had no reason to fear an attack from such a frail boy.

Given tacit permission, the white-haired boy eagerly approached and reached out to touch the dragon’s lowered chin.

As soon as his hand made contact, he exclaimed in awe, “So this is what dragon skin feels like!”

Gazing into the dragon’s massive eyes up close, he marveled, “How incredible!”

“These scales—absolutely magnificent! Oh wow, they reflect light so beautifully!” His eyes gleamed with excitement as he ran his hand over the dragon’s scales. “Sir Dragon, if you ever shed any scales, please let me take care of them!”

The Demon Dragon watched, slightly dumbfounded, as the boy poked at his spikes and then hugged the tip of his tail. He had a feeling that if he didn’t stop him, the boy might even roll around hugging his tail.

Any thought of an attack had clearly been an overreaction.

This person simply adored dragons.

For a moment, the Demon Dragon found it strange—this monstrous form of his, admired by someone?

As he watched the boy stroke the tuft of fur at the tip of his tail, he coldly reminded him, “Is this what you call sincerity?”

It felt entirely the opposite.

The white-haired boy coughed lightly, reluctantly pulling his hands back and stepping in front of the Demon Dragon.

“Of course not. My sincerity is this.”

He rolled up his loose, lacy sleeve to reveal a bandaged arm. With ease, he began unraveling the bandages, exposing a wrist covered in crisscrossing scars. The sight was stark and jarring to both the Demon Dragon and Zeman, who observed from outside the dream.

With a hint of anticipation, the white-haired boy drew a dagger from his waist. He spoke confidently, “Sir Dragon, you’ve been resisting the curse all this time, haven’t you? My blood has a special property that can ease the curse. If you drink my blood, you won’t have to worry about losing control and attacking humans—at least for a while!”

The radiant smile on his face stood in stark contrast to the grotesque scars on his arm, a sight that struck Zeman deeply.

“If Sir Dragon is willing to help us, I’m prepared to give you all my blood.”

In that moment, Zeman’s heart felt as though it had been seized in a crushing grip.

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