The silver glow in the sky faded completely, and the sharp, frigid aura that belonged to the crystal dragon dispersed with the wind. Nolan’s heart suddenly clenched, as if a piece of his soul had been forcibly torn away, and a sharp, unfamiliar emptiness instantly flooded his chest. He tightened his grip around the warm dragon scale in his palm.
Don’t tell me being “dragonkin” comes with separation anxiety too?
Shaking his head, he forcibly suppressed the stirrings rising from his bloodline and turned back toward the group—only to be met with four faces that looked as though they’d just seen a ghost.
“B-Brother Nolan…” Little Donnie’s throat had gone dry. “What was that just now?”
“Calm down. She’s an ally.”
Standing among them, Nolan swept his gaze across these companions he could trust with his back and gave a concise account of what had happened inside the cave. To spare them unnecessary worry, he omitted the detail that he had effectively “died” once. Even so, the earth drake, the awakened holy sword, the bizarre cultists, and the dragon who had taken human form before spreading her wings and leaving—each revelation left them shaken.
When he finished, silence fell.
Leus clutched a tree, nearly banging his head against it in anguish as he muttered over and over, “An entire earth drake… burned to ashes… What a waste! This is a crime!”
“Damn it!” Little Donnie slapped his thigh, his expression shifting from shock to pure regret. “Such an incredible adventure, and I was stuck guarding the entrance!”
Nolan chuckled and tossed over the poisoned hand crossbow along with the retired Darkpiercer. “Here. Take them. You’ll have plenty of chances to lead the charge next time.”
Donnie fumbled to catch them, immediately breaking into a wide grin.
This expedition to the crystallized lizard nest had yielded far more than expected: a large quantity of high-quality mana crystals and lizard blood, Nolan’s Arcane Lock Boots and Keen Sight Ring, Hank’s Ring of Dimensional Banishment, and most importantly, the reappearance and recognition of the Earth Holy Sword, Mountain’s Resonance. The unexpected involvement of Evelyn and the Nihility cultists had also propelled Nolan’s strength forward by leaps and bounds.
There was so much loot that they had to make two trips to load everything onto the carriage. Fortunately, with Nolan and Hank—both Silver-rank powerhouses—doing most of the heavy lifting, they managed without dragging it out until nightfall.
At the moment, Nolan was still bare-chested, sweat tracing down the defined lines of his muscles. He hoisted an entire crate of heavy mana crystals onto the cart with one hand, as casually as if it were a box of hay.
“Mr. Nolan.” Light footsteps approached from behind as Anna handed him a clean towel. Though her cheeks warmed slightly at the sight of his bare torso, her manner remained composed. “You’ve worked hard.”
Feeling a bit self-conscious under her gaze, Nolan took the towel and wiped the sweat from his face, grasping for a casual topic. “Miss Anna, is this your first time traveling far from home?”
“Yes.” She nodded, her eyes clear with curiosity. “Mr. Nolan, are you really an Elfinian?” Tilting her head, she studied him. “You’re very mysterious. Your knowledge, experience, and combat skills are far too seasoned for someone your age. Sometimes I even feel like… you already know what’s going to happen in the future.”
What a sharp intuition.
Nolan was just about to laugh it off when Hank, who was inspecting a wagon axle nearby, suddenly coughed heavily—his gaze fixed firmly on Nolan.
Anna shot her father an exasperated look, then gave Nolan an apologetic smile before turning back to organizing the supplies. Under Hank’s unmistakable “I’ve got my eye on you, kid” stare, Nolan could only shrug helplessly, tossing the towel over his shoulder.
Once the caravan set off again, the long, monotonous journey finally gave Nolan time to review his own status.
【Total Level: 30 (Glory Guardian Lv.15/25; Mercenary Lv.15/15)】】
【Power Tier: Silver】
Thanks to the encounter in the cave, his strength now far exceeded that of an ordinary Silver-rank fighter. What stood out even more was his pool of unallocated experience—after leveling up, he still had a staggering 80,000 left, more than what he’d gained from an entire Rosenberg defensive campaign.
As his level increased, the benefits of fighting above his rank combined with the doubled experience gains had become increasingly terrifying.
In terms of raw combat power, with Mountain’s Resonance granting an attack boost exceeding a hundred points, his destructive capability now surpassed that of some weaker Gold-rank fighters. The fact that he had split an Apostle in half with a single strike earlier was proof enough.
His health had increased just as absurdly. With the boost from his Dragonkin trait, his maximum HP had surged to an almost unbelievable 4,595—a full-fledged tank. Under normal circumstances, even a heavily armored warrior would only barely break 4,000 HP at around level 55, and that was while fully equipped with armor. Nolan, meanwhile, had reached this level of vitality completely unarmored.
On top of that, both his strength and endurance had risen. The gifts granted by his dragon blood were far more generous than he had expected. As for the unexplained Source of the Dragon, he hadn’t noticed any changes yet and would have to study it later.
Another four days passed on the road. Travel was tedious, and for the group, the most anticipated moment each day was dinner—getting to relax while enjoying the delicious meals prepared by Nolan himself.
On the night before reaching Veli City, the campfire crackled as everyone sat together after a hearty meal. Nolan stirred the flames with a stick and began outlining his plan.
“Veli City is just a stepping stone. We recruit people there, then leave in three days.” Drawing a line in the dirt pointing west, he continued, “After that, we head toward the neighboring Demont Province.”
“Why?” Hank asked, taking a drag from his cigar, as concise as ever.
“First, Duke Veli is too weak. The victory at Rosenberg will only make him cling harder to complacency—negotiating with him would be a waste of time. Second, if we want to build our own force, we need a stable base and a legitimate identity. I already have the perfect target: Coldsteel City in Demont Province.” He looked around at the group, confidence gleaming in his eyes. “Demont Province has long been at odds with the central kingdom. Archduke Demont has refused to pay taxes for years—he’s practically independent. Princess Flina wants to deal with him but lacks both justification and the right means. Meanwhile, the three northern provinces that support the prince are watching closely, so the royal core forces can’t launch an expedition. Our appearance is exactly what the princess needs—a blade that belongs to no faction, the perfect ‘white glove.’ We can disrupt Archduke Demont’s expansion without leaving any political leverage against her. When we take Coldsteel City, I’ll contact the princess immediately. With royal recognition, we’ll finally have a true foothold.”
“Wait a second!” Little Donnie stared, dumbfounded. “You’re saying… we’re going to take a city?”
“That’s too risky,” Leus said, his palms sweating. “Seizing an archduke’s city? That’s no different from suicide. It’s basically declaring war on both a powerful noble and the entire aristocratic system!”
Hank drew deeply on his cigar, his expression unusually grave behind the drifting smoke. “Nolan, this plan is bold to the point of recklessness. Archduke Demont isn’t some minor lord like Rosenberg’s ruler—his private army could crush us. And even if we succeed, we’d become a target for everyone. The old nobility won’t tolerate such defiance setting a precedent.”
“Take it? I’d rather call it answering the will of the people. Have you heard of pioneer knights?” Nolan smiled meaningfully. “When facing nobles guilty of serious crimes, pioneer knights can execute first and report later. We don’t need to besiege the city—we couldn’t even if we tried. The lord of Coldsteel City is infamous for his cruelty, exploiting the people until resentment has reached a boiling point. All it takes is a single spark for the entire city to collapse from within. As for what comes after…” He glanced at Hank. “You understand better than I do—our blade would be exactly what the royal family needs to cut away internal rot. When the time comes, not many people will need to die.”
Leus and Kreil listened as Nolan casually described the overthrow of a city, equal parts impressed by his boldness and unsettled by it. Just how large a game was this man playing?
In the silence, Anna’s clear voice rang out as she fixed her gaze on Nolan and asked the most critical question. “Why are you so certain the royal family—or rather, Crown Princess Flina—will accept us as this ‘blade’ instead of discarding us afterward?”
Hank paused mid-draw, and all eyes turned to Nolan. This was the question that mattered most.
Nolan looked into the flickering flames, their light reflecting a complex mix of emotions in his eyes—nostalgia, resolve. “Because our interests are perfectly aligned… and because she’s someone worthy of trust. She’s smart,” he said softly. “Besides, she has no other choice.” Lowering his gaze slightly, he murmured in a voice only he could hear, as though making a vow to a soul from another time. “Because when the whole world abandoned her, I saw her shed her last blood and tears for this land.”
This time, there won’t be any White City Accord forcing her to choose the lesser evil. I won’t let her stand alone again.
Faced with a predetermined fate, he chose to believe.
Turning back to the group, his tone grew firm. “I estimate the undead’s next offensive will come after the first snowfall this year—and it’ll be far beyond anything a unit like ‘Gangrene’ could handle. Before that happens, we need to build a force strong enough to stand against it. Then, in a single decisive battle, we make our name and take our place at the kingdom’s table.”
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