When we returned to where the others were, the air felt somehow unsettled. I worried they’d been attacked by monsters here too, but thankfully that wasn’t the case.
“Kyle, come quick! That suspicious man from yesterday has—”
Gerard sprang up from the log but trailed off when he spotted me.
He’d just called me “suspicious man.” I thought I’d fooled them, but of course I still looked odd. Embarrassing as it was to hear it from him, I said nothing.
“He hasn’t disappeared—he bathed with me,” I interjected, then regretted it. Best not to mention such trivial things.
“Good heavens, Rishian, what happened to your arm?” Elonen cried, gathering his supplies as if preparing to move on.
“Oh, a low-class monster lunged at me. Elonen, you’ll need to look at it.”
“Of course! I’ll heal it right away.”
At Kyle’s prompting, Elonen took my arm and examined the wound anxiously.
“Goodness, it’s so deep and you’re barely reacting. Luckily there’s no contamination… If I’d been a moment later, you might have lost your arm!”
At “contamination,” I remembered something from the novel: monster wounds fester in miasma, but since my own miasma was stronger, my wound hadn’t rotted.
“Heal him quickly. If this were Gerard, he’d be screaming, yet he’s holding it in.”
“What? As if I’d get hurt by puny things like that.”
While Gerard grumbled, Elonen placed his palm on my wound and closed his eyes.
“You’ll be fine in a moment.”
Warm light radiated from his hand, enveloping my arm like a soothing compress.
Gerard sneered at me. “So weak, yet you dared wander here alone. Even if Magicwood is pricey… tsk.”
I frowned at the new term. I had an inkling what it meant, but wasn’t sure.
“Elonen, what is Magicwood?” I asked.
Elonen looked up. “Trees grown in miasma-rich areas absorb the miasma and make excellent ingredients for magic tools. Since you have to harvest them in monster-infested forests, they’re rare.”
I nearly gaped. So there really were lumberjacks who felled trees in such dangerous woods!
No wonder my excuse had worked so well.
“So you risked your life to gather Magicwood. You overcame your fear—truly impressive!”
Elonen smiled warmly. Of all of them, he seemed the kindest—but then I recalled something chilling.
“‘I hate liars most. I can reattach a severed finger at will, so I’ll keep cutting and healing you until you speak the truth—through the night if I must.’”
That line was what Elonen had said to the remnant of the villain mob he captured in the novel. Smiling faces can hide the scariest people. I resolved never to cross Elonen.
“He’s a suspicious one, anyway. So weak he was bitten by a low-class monster, yet he’d come here alone to chop wood. Expert Magicwood harvesters can handle low-class monsters easily.”
Gerard’s muttering drew Kyle’s elbow to his ribs.
“Everyone has their reasons. Didn’t you forget where we first met Kakaros?”
I nearly felt slighted until I remembered from the novel: the dragon had set the World Tree aflame for no reason, burning the primordial tree that maintains balance, its black fire never extinguishing. All the forest elves fled—except Kakaros, who stayed by its side. That’s why the Hero’s party found him there.
“Well, that may be….”
Gerard trailed off. Kyle threw an arm around him and declared heartily, “We have an important task today—slaying the wicked Black Flame Dragon—so let’s not waste energy on trivial matters.”
“Yes. Now that your arm is healed, let’s depart,” said Elonen with a smile. I nodded gratefully.
How long could I keep deceiving them? I needed another plan soon.
We followed silently behind Kakaros, retracing our steps toward the lair. As we neared, Kakaros sniffed the air and murmured, “I smell something. A being with strong miasma passed here recently.”
The culprit was obviously me.
When I first left the lair I was clumsy with miasma control, so I’d spewed it everywhere to avoid monsters. Later I learned to regulate it—but that heavy miasma near the entrance must be my doing.
“Could it be the Black Flame Dragon passed this way?”
“But if so, we would’ve met it. We didn’t detect it.”
At Gerard’s sharp observation, Kyle nodded and offered another hypothesis. “Then perhaps an immensely powerful monster—not the dragon—is hiding nearby?”
Each guess made me flinch.
Fortunately, they didn’t suspect me. Just as I relaxed, Kyle whirled to face me.
“Rishian, you came this way—have you encountered any powerful monsters while passing through the forest?”
“I saw many monsters—but I hid each time, so I can’t say.”
Lies grow easier with practice. Kyle nodded.
“If Kakaros is this alert, it’s no ordinary beast. Everyone stay vigilant.”
Tension mounted, and I swallowed nervously.
“How far to the lair?”
“Right ahead. The miasma grows thicker.”
Kakaros sniffed again. I too felt the lair drawing near, planning how to act when they found the empty dragon’s lair. I’d have to feign surprise—but not so much as to break my silent persona.
“By the way, is Rishian usually so quiet?”
Elonen approached, his kindly question intruding on my thoughts.
“Yes… I am.”
“When in danger, you must speak up loudly. We don’t know what lurks in the lair—neither Kyle, nor I, nor anyone else.”
Despite knowing nothing awaited inside, Elonen looked genuinely worried.
“Thanks for watching out back at the campfire,” I said.
“Don’t thank me. We promised to protect you—that’s what heroes do. We help and shield those in danger. When we subjugate the Black Flame Dragon, Gerard will raise his shield—then hide behind it and if anything happens, flee alone. We’ll protect you, so don’t worry.”
Watching Elonen’s gentle smile, I felt tugged between guilt and fear. My safe appearance felt as fragile as a severed finger.
“There—the entrance, I think.”
Kyle, who led with Kakaros, called out. I took a deep breath and stopped.
At last, we had arrived at the lair’s entrance.