“Kyle thought you looked a bit... simple. I was worried that if I left you alone, you’d soon become a monster’s snack.”
I cleared my throat in embarrassed surprise before I even realized it.
So that was the shameful reason he’d let me join the party. I didn’t know whether to be relieved he hadn’t suspected anything worse or annoyed at being pitied.
“Elonen, Gerard, Kakaros, and I—we all have our own stories. We didn’t come this far chasing some empty dream of vanquishing a villain and bringing world peace. We each left our homes and loved ones behind because we have reasons compelling us toward this noble goal.”
Listening to Kyle’s measured voice, I found myself nodding without realizing it.
Now I understood why they called him the Hero and trusted his judgment. He spoke with genuine conviction.
“I don’t know your story, but if you travel with us, we’ll help you find it. My offer still stands: come with our party.”
For a moment, I thought traveling with Kyle wouldn’t be so bad—if only I weren’t the Black Flame Dragon. With that truth, there was no way I could accept his kindness.
“...I’ll think about it.”
I bowed my head and murmured the only answer I could give.
“Fair enough. You’ve got plenty of time to decide. It’s at least three days’ journey to the capital. It’ll be a long trip, so get some good rest.”
“All right.”
I answered Kyle and crouched on the carriage floor as best I could. There simply wasn’t room for five people to stretch out, so I ended up resting my head on Kakaros’s feet.
I curled into an ammonite shape to avoid touching anyone, when something suddenly draped over me.
“What’s this?”
Startled, I looked up to see Kyle’s cloak spread across my body.
It carried his warmth and felt strangely comforting. He must bathe diligently each morning, for I detected no unpleasant odor—only the cozy scent of sun-dried linen. It was so pleasant I almost wanted to ask what perfume he used.
“I’m fine...”
I reached to pull the cloak away, but Kyle caught my hand and tucked it back under the fabric.
“Just keep it on. I’m giving it because I’m uncomfortable without you under it.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by “uncomfortable,” but I watched as he turned his back and curled into the far corner of the cramped carriage. I shifted my gaze to the black night sky, where the royal banner fluttered loudly. I silently prayed nothing untoward would happen before we reached the capital.
As Kyle had warned, the carriage journey was oppressively long. Each time the heavy wooden wheels hit a rut, the carriage jolted, making the ride extremely unpleasant.
Worse, I’d had to crouch all day with no room to stretch my legs. My shoulders, back, hips, and legs ached in protest.
“Kakaros is hungry.”
Kakaros muttered, clutching his stomach. To someone as punctual about meals as he was, forced marches without food must feel torturous.
“Now that you mention it, that grilled fish last night was our last meal. Would you like some water at least?”
Elonen forced a bright smile and offered Kakaros his leather water pouch. Mine was nearly empty too, drained at yesterday’s waterfall.
“I know we’re considered prisoners, but surely we deserve food?”
Even gentle Elonen was complaining now—the Hero’s party was being mistreated.
Every time the carriage stopped, the soldiers would laugh among themselves and heap plates of food.
“I want to eat too.”
Kakaros gripped the iron bars and stared pityingly at the soldiers enjoying their meal.
“Just hold on a bit. It’ll be better once we reach the capital.”
Elonen patted Kakaros’s back encouragingly.
One of the soldiers noticed Kakaros watching and got up. He grabbed a piece of meat and approached the carriage. Pressing his forehead against the bars beside Kakaros, he waved the meat tauntingly.
“Want a bite?”
Other soldiers slinked closer, gaping at us as if we were caged animals.
“You’re one of those forest fairies who can transform into beasts, right?”
The soldier’s tone and expression left no doubt it was meant insultingly. Sure enough, anger rose in me and I instinctively clenched my fists—but Kakaros said nothing. He just stared at the soldier.
His eyes betrayed no emotion, as if looking at a pebble on the road.
“Don’t insult us. Step back. We haven’t even had a trial yet, so you have no right to treat us like criminals.”
It was Elonen who spoke up fiercely, not Kakaros.
“Exactly. I’m still a prince. If you want to accuse me of insulting the royal family, you’ll make life difficult for yourselves. Unless you want to ride with us, get lost.”
Kyle joined in, and the soldier grudgingly stepped back. Yet their glances at us remained hostile.
The Hero’s party hadn’t even been proven guilty, but they were already being shamed and blamed.
I’d quit reading the novel once I encountered just this sort of scene—yet here I was, mocked alongside them.
“Gerard, I have a question.”
To shift attention away from those soldiers, I addressed Gerard, who’d sat quietly in the carriage corner with his arms folded.
“If it’s a bothersome question, feel free to refuse.”
He didn’t look my way as he answered coolly, but I persisted. Since learning about Rishian’s past, I’d wanted to ask. A “Grand Sage” had to be a mage, and I’d found a spellbook in the cave—apparently Rishian could use magic.
So why hadn’t a fellow mage like Gerard recognized me? Maybe, like Kyle or Kakaros, he sensed something odd but pretended ignorance.
“Do you know anyone named Rishian Felix?”
“I do. That’s you.”
Gerard’s flat reply came without a moment’s thought. I almost laughed.
“I’m asking about the Grand Sage...”
“Oh, you mean the black-robed Sage? Was his name Rishian Felix?”
Kyle interjected, surprise flickering on his face.
“Oh—so that was what Reynold asked yesterday? Funny how he and you share the same name.”
Just then, Gerard’s sharp gaze cut in.
“Exactly. Reynold seems to think you’re that Sage, but I don’t remember him, so I can’t confirm.”
The rest of the party, who I thought would be astonished, barely reacted.
“I actually talked with Kakaros. He sensed magic from you. At first it was too faint to be sure, but only someone sensitive to miasma like Kakaros could detect it.”
“So Rishian, does that mean you really are the Sage or not?”
Kyle finally showed a hint of surprise—but Gerard’s next words flickered disappointment across Kyle’s face.
“As I said, you can’t use magic now. Two possibilities remain: you’re a different person who just happens to share the Sage’s name and a little magic, or you were once the Sage but lost all your power.”
“Lost your magic...? Is that possible?”
Kyle frowned in disbelief. I had no answer either.
“Yes. It’s called mana depletion. It’s not uncommon: if you overuse your power, your mana core can shatter, leaving you unable to cast spells.”
“So, Rishian—were you the Sage or not? It’s hard to follow. Explain it simply.”
I wasn’t the only one confused. Kyle’s grumble earned Gerard a heavy sigh.
“In terms even a child could understand: even if you were that Grand Sage in the past, you’re completely powerless now.”