“Your Majesty, we did find the Black Flame Dragon’s new lair, didn’t we? If you’d grant us a brief reprieve, we could pursue him again.”
“Shut up! How dare you disobey my orders?”
Kyle tried to reason calmly, but Emperor Perosen waved his fingers and shouted.
Watching him made my chest tighten as if I’d swallowed three hundred hot potatoes at once.
“But, Your Majesty, if you want someone to answer for this, punish only me! My companions did nothing wrong.”
“I said I don’t want to hear it! I can’t stand the sight of them—get these wretches out of my sight at once!”
Emperor Perosen seized his wine cup and hurled it at Kyle.
Kyle could easily have dodged or caught it, but he did nothing. The cup smashed loudly against his head.
Red wine splashed over him, looking like blood flowing down his face.
“Stand up.”
The soldiers hauled us to our feet again. I sighed deeply.
I wasn’t naïve enough to plead, “I’m not one of these! Won’t you let me go?” so I trudged after the Hero’s party toward the cells.
I had intended to leave them once we escaped the forest. Yet somehow, before I knew it, I’d become cellmates with the Hero’s party.
“I’m sorry. I should have convinced Father. This is all my fault.”
Kyle looked uncharacteristically downcast as he addressed the group.
“What do you mean? If Kyle is punished, we suffer too. We share the same fate!”
Elonen declared proudly.
Share the same fate? I wanted no part of their shared destiny—no more than I wanted the bothersome hangnail next to my fingernail.
“So what now? Must we wait for the trial?”
Gerard asked with a sullen face. I could see his restraint; he wanted to beat the soldiers dragging us along with his staff.
“What if we’re found guilty?”
At Elonen’s anxious question, Kyle shook his head.
“During the trial we’ll prove Reynold’s accusations false.”
But would the trial be fair?
I should have gone back when I had the chance. Now such thoughts changed nothing.
The prison tower inside the palace was far worse than I’d imagined. The windows were palm-sized, letting in no light or fresh air; the stench was overwhelming.
Mold crept across the walls and floor, exuding cold dampness. The only beds were small, flimsy planks of wood.
“I can’t stay here another day.”
Gerard muttered as he produced a bed from subspace. I hadn’t realized he carried one so fine.
Two beds filled the cramped cell, leaving us barely room to move. But lying side by side on those boards, the cold felt less biting.
“Maybe Archbishop Fremlin will listen to us.”
Kyle, staring at the ceiling, murmured.
“Who was that again?”
Gerard frowned at him.
“Don’t you remember? The cleric who blessed us at the send-off ceremony. He told me about the legendary sword Pragharach that can cut even the Black Flame Dragon’s scales.”
I recognized Pragharach—the divine sword Kyle had struggled to obtain, fabled to cleave anything.
“If I hadn’t heard that legend, I’d never have embarked on this quest. The dragon’s scales can’t be harmed by any blade.”
The Black Flame Dragon’s scales were harder than any material known, hence Kyle’s need for Pragharach.
“Think the archbishop might spring us?”
“Not that, but he might speak for us at tomorrow’s trial… probably.”
In typical light-novel fashion, royalty was corrupt, nobles greedy, clergy degenerate, but here the clergy were depicted as compassionate servants, caring for the impoverished victims of the dragon. Thus the Holy Temple often opposed the court.
“I’m worried we’ll have to chase the Black Flame Dragon again soon—what if he’s causing more havoc?”
Even now, Elonen worried about others. But since the dragon was locked up here too, perhaps his mischief was on pause.
“How long has it been since we rested like this?”
Suddenly Kyle sat up.
Five years ago, Kyle left to become the Hero. Since then they’d traveled and fought without pause.
“I can’t remember the last time I lay around doing nothing all day.”
“True. We camped nearly every night, journeying across the continent.”
Elonen rose to her feet, and I followed suit.
“For now, let’s rest without worry. Our efforts won’t solve anything yet. We’ll think of the dragon only after we leave this cell.”
Kyle boldly declared a respite, and Elonen smiled brightly, nodding. Even in captivity, a positive outlook wasn’t unwelcome.
“You two are awfully comfortable.”
Gerard crossed his arms, eyeing them with contempt. But to me, the funniest sight was Kakaros, already asleep in the corner.
Just as Kyle was drifting off, distant footsteps echoed.
“Who’s that?”
Kyle, ever vigilant, pressed close to the bars to peer down the corridor.
Clank, clank. The sound of armor grew louder as torches illuminated four soldiers approaching.
“Rishian Felix, the Emperor summons you.”
When they spoke my name, Kyle’s eyes widened as he whirled toward me.
“Why would the Emperor call for you?”
“…I don’t know, but I have a guess.”
Likely Reynold had reported my identity. They’d call me for verification.
“Maybe they’ll release you, since you aren’t involved?”
Elonen looked at me optimistically. It was the hope I most wanted.
“So this could be our last farewell.”
Kyle sounded regretful, but I felt none of it.
Before sentiment could settle, the soldiers hammered on the bars.
“What are you dawdling for? Move it!”
I stepped through the open door to the corridor. Behind me I heard Kyle.
“Be careful.”
I paused and glanced back. Concern shone in his blue eyes in the darkness.
If this truly was our final parting, I felt an unexpected pang of regret. I’d thought freedom alone would bring relief.
“…Kyle, too.”
I quietly returned his gaze, then turned away without another word.
I followed the soldiers down a corridor I didn’t recognize, expecting the audience hall. At its end was another ornate chamber—here awaited Emperor Perosen and Crown Prince Reynold.
“Rishian, come sit here.”
Reynold motioned me to the seat before him. Beside him, Perosen glared at me as if about to pierce me with his eyes.
“It’s been so long I hardly recall… you seem like the sage in the black robes, but I’m not sure. Are you truly Rishian Felix, the great sage?”
“Yes, sire. I confirmed it.”
I remained silent as they conversed.
“But is it true you’ve lost your memories?”
Emperor Perosen insisted, looking me directly in the face.
“…Yes.”
“And you have no recollection of why you left the capital or what you’ve done since?”
“None at all.”
He repeated the same questions Reynold had asked—questions to which he already knew the answer.
“You cannot perform a single spell?”
“My mana core was shattered; I can no longer use magic.”
I added Gerard’s earlier explanation. Perosen’s face twisted in disgust.
“How did such a great sage become so powerless? Then there truly is no one who can stop the Black Flame Dragon?”
Perosen murmured in despair, wiping his fearful expression away with his hand.
“Therefore, we must punish Kyle and his companions severely for endangering the Empire.”