TuxedoTranslations

Chapter 75

Facing Blake’s question, the blond man let out a mocking laugh and swirled the crystal goblet in his hand.

From above, the radiant golden liquid inside gleamed like the sun, shimmering with each movement of his wrist. The crystal glass cast a dazzling brilliance, painting shifting light and shadow across Blake’s wary, defensive face.

“You are not yet qualified to know my identity,” he said arrogantly after taking a sip. “I advise you to abandon that naïve idea of yours.”

Blake knew exactly what he meant and refused with firm resolve.

“No—I’ll never give up! I have to avenge my father and find Little White.”

The blond man waved dismissively, utterly uninterested in his goal.

“Your foolishness amuses me. With your current mindset and strength, you don’t even have the qualifications to stand before that man. You’d just be marching to your death.”

Blake pressed on, desperate.

“You know who he is, don’t you? Just how strong is he?”

The blond man’s expression darkened, as if provoked, his lips curving downward with an air of divine authority.

Coldly, he said, “You are not qualified to know.”

Once again belittled, Blake gritted his teeth.

“Where is this place? Is this my dream?”

This time, the blond man deigned to answer, albeit reluctantly.

“This is your consciousness space.”

Blake didn’t really understand what that meant, but the other clearly had no intention of explaining further.

“I came only to warn you,” the man continued, “don’t act beyond your abilities—or you’ll throw your life away.”

Blake found it strange. This arrogant, infuriating man actually seemed to care about whether he lived or died. His words were harsh, yet beneath them was a strange insistence that Blake give up dangerous pursuits.

He couldn’t understand why—when suddenly, the man said,

“And another thing. I want apple pie. When you get out of here, tell that foul-smelling master of yours to prepare some.”

The abrupt shift in topic left Blake momentarily stunned.

“Why?”

And why would he call his master “foul-smelling”?

The blond man’s face darkened.

“Because there is nothing in this world that I cannot have.”

Seeing that Blake still looked confused, he kicked the boy straight out of the consciousness space without another word.

As the Sun God—one who bore divine authority—he could hear the prayers of believers who had received his blessings.

Usually, he blocked out that incessant noise.

But recently, a rather talented little brat had appeared. For some reason, the divine “Holy Son” mark he had given that boy had failed. Forced to remove the boy from his muted channels, he checked in to see what was happening.

And what did he find?

Not reverence.

The brat had the audacity to mock him—in the name of prayer!

“Good morning, annoying Sun God! Here’s some apple pie. It’s delicious—you’ve probably never had it, huh?”

“This is garlic roast duck! So good! Hehe, Daddy fed me this! Oh right, do you have a dad?”

“My dad loves me so much! Even bad kids can be loved. But bad gods? I definitely don’t like you.”

“I hate you today too! Hate you, hate you, hate you.”

“I saw my brother today~ I’m so happy!”

Such “greetings” came almost daily. Compared to the usual “O great Lord” and the endless flattery of his faithful, this child’s prayers drove him into a fury!

Apple pie—such a crude food—how could it ever grace a god’s table?

Garlic roast duck? A lowly commoner’s dish, nothing worth boasting about!

Ridiculous. Whether as man, god, or pope, he had always lived in luxury—when had he ever lowered himself to such things? He simply chose not to eat them, that was all.

Never had a human dared to be so blasphemous—to mock a god!

Just a vessel… that was all the boy was.

He would seize that brat’s body!

He would watch his soul burn in divine fire, make him sob and kneel, beg forgiveness, and die wracked with regret!

But unfortunately, “prayer transmission” was one-way. His Holy Son’s mark had somehow failed, preventing him from descending an oracle or scolding the boy. He couldn’t even hear the brat’s frightened cries, let alone possess his body remotely.

And because he feared being discovered by Zeman, he was forced to remain hidden within this child named Blake, slowly restoring his divine soul.

Without a physical form, without the ability to appear, he couldn’t even teach that brat a proper lesson.

Still, Blake’s talent was one in a million—though his recklessness was vexing. The Sun God would not allow him to expose himself to Zeman’s gaze over some child that had been taken away.

Besides, with that unknown “quasi–Holy Son” boy still around, he would never again lack a host before Zeman’s death.

Once Zeman’s life came to an end, no one would remain to threaten him.

A calculating glint flashed in the Sun God’s eyes.

Albin, meanwhile, had found no trace of Little Black in Thorn City. Disheartened, he lowered his head and suggested continuing southward.

The adults quickly agreed and began arranging the route.

But before that, Albin planned to return to the Tulip Kingdom to inform Sutnalei about the search and check on Jacques’s condition. That would mean a bit of a detour.

Upon hearing his plan, Zeman said,

“It’s not a detour. I’ll take you there myself.”

Albin thought he meant riding there on horseback, but the next day, outside the city, he saw the creature he’d been longing to see—

“The Dragon!”

Albin’s eyes lit up instantly. He hurried forward with delight and wrapped his arms around the dragon’s jaw.

At his touch, the mighty dragon froze like a statue. Even its breathing turned careful and light. The white, flame-like mane at the back of its neck dimmed and drew inward, its claws gripping the earth tightly as it reined in every trace of its deadly power before the small child.

【Get on.】

The dragon’s deep voice rumbled as its long, powerful tail extended toward Albin, motioning for him to step on. 【Sit on my back. I’ll take you to the Tulip Kingdom.】

Albin held his breath in disbelief, his bright eyes sparkling.

“I can ride a dragon?!” he exclaimed, thrilled.

The dragon gave a low, resonant reply.

“Mr. Dragon, you’re amazing!” Albin shouted, jumping excitedly on the spot. He pressed his soft cheek against the dragon’s hard scales and rubbed against them affectionately, like a small bird snuggling against a large one. “Long live Mr. Dragon!”

Cheerfully, he stepped onto the “tail elevator,” climbed up, and settled himself atop the dragon’s back, holding onto one of the sturdy ridged spines. Looking down, he couldn’t help but let out constant exclamations of awe.

Zeman watched Albin’s gleeful expression, his heart filling with a complex mix of emotions.

Besides the worry of accidentally hurting him, there was also a faint, bitter pang.

Albin already knew the dragon was him—yet he still called him “Mr. Dragon” with such joy.

Between “Dad” and “Mr. Dragon,” which one did Albin like more?

Zeman ultimately kept that childish question to himself.

The dragon spread his wings and took flight. The massive wings stirred up a fierce current of air.

Albin squinted, bracing himself for the gusts—but the expected wind never came. The chill air seemed to have eyes, curling neatly around him instead.

Zeman’s wind magic shielded him. Albin was as calm and safe as if he stood in the eye of a storm.

To Albin, though, the shimmering barrier looked more like a transparent cockpit—like those on fighter jets. That realization made him even more excited.

He was piloting a dragon!

“Charge—!!” he yelled, howling gleefully, “Awoooh!”

The dragon soared higher and higher. From above, Thorn City shrank to a tiny speck. What amazed Albin even more was that he could look the sun directly in the eye!

As the dragon climbed, Albin found himself gazing down at the blazing red sun.

Sunlight glinted off the dragon’s silver-white scales, scattering in prismatic colors—he finally understood what “iridescent white” truly meant.

At that moment, the dragon shone brighter than the sun itself, bathed in gentle golden light, exuding a sacred, untouchable majesty that left Albin unable to look away.

So cool!!!

He felt like a real dragon knight now, the vast sky his open field. A pure exhilaration welled up inside him as he rode freely through the heavens.

Lost in the moment, Albin didn’t realize how much time had passed. What would’ve taken half a day by carriage had only taken minutes by dragonback.

When the dragon began to descend and landed in a forest clearing, Albin blinked in surprise.

“What? It’s over already?”

Sliding down the dragon’s tail like a playground slide, he turned to look up at the dragon with eyes full of longing.

The dragon reverted to human form, his towering figure shrinking back into Zeman’s familiar shape.

Albin looked reluctant, sighing softly. Compared to the bright enthusiasm he’d shown calling “Mr. Dragon,” his tone when he said “Dad” was noticeably calmer.

Zeman’s gaze darkened.

…Perhaps it was best not to transform in front of Albin too often.

He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous—of his own dragon form.

Zeman led Albin into the city. At the lord’s manor, they found Sutanlei still there and learned that the black-robed man had already been executed.

They also visited Jacques, who still hadn’t awakened. Albin leaned by his bedside, softly telling him about Little Black’s disappearance.

Before leaving, Albin entrusted Sultanlei with the task of searching for Little Black.

“Leave it to me,” said Sultanlei—normally domineering and decisive, yet always gentle toward this child.

“I’ll take Jacques to the capital—it’s safe there. If he wakes, I’ll inform you right away.”

“Thank you, Sultanlei!”

But after only a few words, Sultanlight’s aura shifted. The majestic lion that replaced him snorted lightly and said,

“That guy just wants you to visit more often.”

“Eh?” Albin blinked, then smiled brightly. “Even if Uncle Jacques isn’t here, I’d still come to see you guys!”

Only then did the lion show satisfaction. He bent down, sniffed at Albin, and wrinkled his nose in disdain.

“You reek of a cold, monstrous scent, little one. Be careful you don’t get eaten.”

“It’s Mr. Dragon! He’d never eat me!” Albin said quickly, his face still glowing with excitement at the mention.

Seeing how Albin trusted another magical creature just as he once trusted him, the lion gave a displeased snort, feigning indifference as he shooed them away.

“I never said I wanted you coming around.”

“Eh… really?” Albin’s face fell. “But I really want to see you, Mr. Lion.”

“Annoying little brat,” the lion clicked his tongue, then lifted his head proudly and gave a begrudging grunt of approval—turning a blind eye as the little lamb entered his territory.

After saying goodbye to Sutanlei and the lion, Albin and Zeman returned to Thorn City. The group—four people and one snake—boarded the carriage once again, heading south toward the Rose Kingdom.

They passed through the southern lands of the Tulip Kingdom and gradually entered the realm of the Lily-of-the-Valley Kingdom.

As they rolled past a small village, Albin suddenly heard the quick, eager barking of a puppy. Curious, he poked his head out of the carriage and looked back—

A small white dog, tongue lolling, was chasing after the carriage.

“Woof! Woof!”

Albin’s face lit up with delight.

“Wow—it’s a Samoyed!”

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