“Ugh, ugh.”
Thud, the sound of something falling.
On the ship advancing with the wind, the dragon knelt and vomited what was inside his body.
Fortunately, there was hardly any smell, but it wasn’t a pleasant sight or sound.
What was spilling out overboard was vomit.
Liquid revealing everything Tiamat had eaten since yesterday.
As Tiamat was expressing his suffering through that liquid, the sibling standing behind laughed loudly while patting their brother’s back.
“Even you have a weakness? Unexpected!”
“You, are you… is this, okay?”
Tiamat asked with a pale expression after vomiting. Harrod responded to his brother’s question with an air of puzzlement.
“Why wouldn’t it be okay?”
That puzzlement itself was already a declaration.
That Tiamat’s seasickness was not due to lineage or racial traits, but rather a reaction caused by his excellent senses.
Realizing it was his own unique issue, Tiamat tried to protest with a look of injustice, but his voice soon turned into action.
“Ugh, guh-ergh!”
Leaning over the side of the ship, Tiamat expelled more vomit.
Fortunately, the ship remained clean, but the crew had already begun avoiding Tiamat.
Aslan and Harrod looked on at Tiamat with concern.
“In this situation, I’ll go fetch some water.”
As Harrod left to get water, Tiamat noticed Aslan looking at him with pity and gave a defeated smile.
The hand gripping the railing slipped, causing Tiamat’s large frame to slump to the floor.
Sitting there awkwardly, Tiamat looked up at Aslan with a pale face and spoke.
“Aslan.”
“Tiamat.”
With great solemnity, Tiamat began to speak, while Angie thought to herself, ‘Here we go again.’
“It’s been enjoyable working together.”
“…Eh, what, what situation is this?”
Tiamat, breathing heavily, and Richard, who looked flustered as he tried to understand the situation.
Aslan looked between the two and seriously accepted Tiamat’s actions.
He silently gazed down at Tiamat.
Breathing laboriously, Tiamat closed his eyes tightly.
“Grant me… a peaceful end.”
“Is Lord Tiamat dying? From seasickness…?”
Saying this, he bowed his head deeply.
Ignoring Richard’s flustered voice, Tiamat kept his head bowed. Aslan looked at Tiamat and then asked curiously.
“What kind of…?”
“With that fist, if you hit just right…”
That fist. It likely referred to the Dragon King’s arm.
Recalling his martial arts and combat skills along with the damage amplification from his unique abilities, Aslan shook his head.
“Probably, one strike would shatter just your head.”
“…I see.”
The dragon looked dejected and pitiful.
Trying to lean against the railing again, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and turned his head.
There stood Ereta.
The master of blunt weapons, wielding a perfectly-sized mace in her hand.
Aslan glanced between Ereta and Tiamat and smiled softly before speaking.
“But fortunately… we have Ereta.”
“What do you mean—”
Bang!
Just as Tiamat turned to Aslan to ask, Ereta swung her mace with precise control.
The mace accelerated so fast it was visible and struck Tiamat’s head, causing his eyes to roll back as he collapsed onto the deck.
Boom!
His massive body fell to the ground, his rolled-back eyes slowly closing as Tiamat drifted off into dreams.
Dreams surrounded by plump female dragons.
Looking down at the unconscious Tiamat, Ereta returned the mace to her waist, while Angie sighed and shook her head.
Richard, meanwhile, stared at Tiamat’s face with a bewildered expression.
“Aslan, Tiamat is smiling…”
“…Leave him be. He must be having a good dream.”
Aslan gave a vague response to Richard’s question while glancing at the sprawled-out Tiamat.
Returning, Harrod saw Tiamat lying on the ground and widened his eyes in surprise.
Under normal circumstances, it might seem like a scene for misunderstanding, but Harrod adapted quickly.
“Ah, looks like he fell asleep. If I’d known, I should’ve brought a blanket instead of water, huh?”
His reaction was appropriately measured. Angie, seemingly exasperated by Harrod’s response, sighed and grabbed Tiamat’s tail.
“I’ll move Tiamat inside. Leaving him here will surely make him complain about being cold when he wakes up.”
Dragging Tiamat’s massive body across the ship, Angie made her way inside.
Due to the dragging, Richard had to follow closely behind, saying, “Lady! Dragging him around like this is cruel!”
But Harrod, observing all this, didn’t seem particularly moved by his sibling’s plight.
“How surprising. That Angela has grown so much…”
Harrod marveled at Angie’s growth despite already knowing about it and seeing it firsthand.
Aslan nodded.
“That’s how it happened.”
“Is this how humans grow so quickly?”
Harrod asked, astonished.
“Not exactly… there were reasons,” Aslan replied sheepishly, unable to explain that divine power had maximized human potential, and gestured toward Harrod.
“But why are you here? What about the Tail Brigade?”
As far as Aslan knew, Harrod commanded the experimental Tail Brigade composed of humans, which wouldn’t function without him.
“Ah, I quit.”
It seemed things weren’t as Aslan expected.
Aslan blinked in surprise.
Had the Senate decided on disarmament due to the death of an elder?
Aslan, lacking deep historical knowledge, considered various hypotheses but was surprised when Harrod’s answer differed entirely from his expectations.
“I passed my position to the next warrior and returned to regular duty. Anyway, now that I have a wife, staying in the tail sector didn’t seem right, does it?”
“…A wife? You got married?”
“Ah, that’s how it went. Things just happened…”
Harrod chuckled, leaving Aslan perplexed.
It felt like something had changed about him, perhaps due to marriage.
“Congratulations. Sorry for congratulating late.”
“Not at all. You’re busy, Lord Aslan. It’s understandable you wouldn’t know.”
Harrod smiled contentedly.
Though he said it casually, receiving congratulations seemed to brighten his mood, as his small tail swept gently along the floor.
Ereta, noticing the tail and Harrod’s wide grin, asked,
“So you came all the way here?”
Harrod hesitated to answer immediately.
He still remembered meeting Ereta in the archives.
Thus, Harrod answered stiffly,
“Yes, that’s why I’m here!”
The answer didn’t quite fit.
When Aslan and Ereta exchanged puzzled glances, Harrod forced a laugh and explained,
“It’s not just that. Actually, I’m not only married… My wife is carrying my egg.”
“…An egg? So…”
“I know. It may seem irresponsible, but I have my reasons.”
Harrod added, placing a hand on his hip.
“There isn’t much for warriors to do within Belus Alphen, and my wife agreed. I want to accomplish something worthy of telling my child when I return.”
Truly, was that a reason? Aslan wondered.
Harrod grinned innocently and continued,
“Don’t you think stepping foot on both the southern and northern continents is enough of an achievement? Of course, helping my brother and sharing this good news with him were also part of it.”
And he added for Lord Aslan too.
By revealing partial truths, he concealed his true intentions.
“…I see. Well, congratulations on the pregnancy.”
“Thank you!”
Harrod happily accepted Aslan’s congratulations, but Aslan could sense the underlying meaning in his actions.
It was guilt.
Guilt from believing he could enjoy such happiness thanks to Aslan rescuing him from Olpasbet.
Guilt from not being able to help or participate in the battle against Netchagni with the Supreme Divinity’s Sword.
Harrod had chosen this journey to repay that guilt.
Aslan realized this but thought it unnecessary to dwell on it. Changing someone’s mindset, especially regarding guilt or shame, was impossible.
Thus, Aslan decided to ensure Harrod returned without issues.
Avoiding mentioning the fact unnecessarily, Aslan tried not to burden Harrod further.
Soon, Harrod stopped mid-sentence and exclaimed,
“Oops, I forgot about bringing the blanket for my brother. Excuse me!”
And he headed inside the ship.
Aslan watched him leave and sighed deeply.
“Are you alright?”
Ereta asked, looking at Aslan’s profile.
“I’m fine.”
Forcing a smile, Aslan’s words lacked conviction. Ereta gazed at him silently and said,
“You say you’re fine, but you don’t look it. Your complexion is pale.”
It was unclear if it was truly so, but her following actions stemmed from personal desire.
Ereta extended her hand and placed it on Aslan’s cheek, infusing life energy.
Feeling the life energy flowing into his body, Aslan realized immediately.
He guessed that his decreasing lifespan meant his maximum vitality was reducing.
Thus, neither Ereta’s infused life energy nor the pillar of creation within purity seemed to improve his condition.
Perhaps only something like restoration magic directly wielded by Resham could delay it, but pouring life energy or mere regeneration seemed insufficient.
In other words, this act held no meaning.
Yet, Aslan couldn’t bring himself to stop her.
Despite knowing it was futile, Aslan couldn’t tell Ereta to cease as she caressed his cheek, feeling the warmth spreading from her touch.
Whether she realized it or not, Ereta smiled faintly at Aslan’s face nearby.
Smiling cheerfully, she stretched out her arm, brushing Aslan’s cheek, and then lightly touched the corner of his eye with her thumb.
The warm sensation traveling along his eye and the soft fragrance peculiar to Ereta followed her gentle touch.
Unconsciously, Aslan smiled at the scent tickling his nose, prompting Ereta to trace his jawline.
Her hand reached his lips, lingering there.
Suddenly, Ereta spoke, swallowing her saliva. Her words were unexpected.
“Does it bother you when I do this?”
“Not really. Initially, I told you to let it slide even if you did this.”
Quoting their conversation from when they held the deity of contracts.
Recalling the memory, Ereta giggled.
Then, with a mischievous smile, she narrowed her pink eyes.
“That sounds like a complaint.”
“No, it’s not that unpleasant…”
“Do you prefer annoying women?”
Her slightly narrowed pink eyes. The deep affection embedded in her cheerful expression.
Aslan couldn’t deny it and chuckled awkwardly, while Ereta smiled contentedly and gently caressed Aslan’s cheek.
Although the life energy she continuously infused dissipated, she paid no mind and repeatedly poured her life into Aslan.
As if it were the only kindness she could offer him.
Aslan could feel Ereta’s affection through the life energy and warmth and reached out his hand toward it.
Just as he was about to place his hand on Ereta’s cheek.
“What are you doing?”
A sudden voice startled them.
Their heads turned involuntarily toward the railing where no one should have been. There hung Phey.
Phey, expressionless, stared intently.
“Nothing.”
Aslan chuckled awkwardly and withdrew his hand, but Ereta did not.
Instead, she gave Phey a peculiar look.
Almost as if asking why she interfered.
Phey countered with an indifferent gaze, and thus the girl and the woman created an odd tension.
A strange atmosphere that even Aslan, who was somewhat detached from the situation, found suffocating.
Observing both of them in turn, Aslan tried to break the silence.
“Phey, is something wrong? Did you find anything?”
Ereta pouted slightly and withdrew her hand, while Phey sent another odd glance at Ereta before pretending to be a cheerful elf and handed over a letter.
“Yeah! When I saw a ship approaching earlier, I checked it out, and they said to deliver this to the person in charge!”
Aslan took the letter and recognized the seal stamped on it.
A circular emblem symbolizing the sun, surrounded by wedge-shaped patterns.
It was the seal representing the Empire.
Ding, ding, ding!
Just as Aslan identified the seal, the bell rang.
Three chimes signaling the appearance of another vessel ahead.
Aslan looked forward and saw an approaching ship flying the Imperial flag.
It was an unexpected early contact from the Empire.
