I Said Make My Abilities Average! (LN) - Volume 15 - Chapter 105

Chapter 105:

The Seal

“…SAY WHAT?”

Obviously, the Crimson Vow were not going to read the letter right there in the guild hall. They waited until they returned to their inn, only to find…

“Kragon says he needs to see us again. And this time he’s bringing all the top brass, their elder and their chief and everyone. It does seem like they left out that kid of a leader though, and I don’t see any mention of Berdetice, either… In other words, this is a grown-up talk. No kids or youngsters allowed. We might actually get to have a serious conversation this time.”

“I mean, they may not be bringing any kids, but we’ve still got a kid right here. That gonna be a problem?” Reina teased.

“Wh…?!” Mile pouted, puffing out her cheeks.

Currently, the only one of their number who was still considered underage was Mile, at thirteen. Pauline had been only fourteen 

when they first met but had since passed the threshold of adulthood on her fifteenth birthday. Of course, Reina was joking. In this case, age had nothing to do with it, since there was no way the elder dragons would even consider having a conversation with them without Mile around. However…

“What do you think they’re after?” asked Mavis, face taut.

You either had to have a lot of guts or be a monumental fool to be cracking jokes here, given who they were dealing with. Reina was the former. Having battled the elder dragons as many times as she had would have to count for something.

Strange as it seemed, dealing with elder dragons had become second nature. That was all there was to it.

“What they’re after is…” Mile started. The group collectively gulped, waiting with bated breath. “…I have no idea. They didn’t say!”

The tension was immediately broken. 

“Yeah, that’s what I figured!” groused Reina.

“I could have surmised as much…” Pauline sighed.

“Ha ha! Don’t know what I was expecting,” Mavis chuckled.

Though the three of them laughed, Mile looked vexed.

“It’s not my fault! Kragon’s the one who left that important detail out of the letter!”

In reality, it was probably some demon or beastperson who had physically penned the letter, but Mile was not incorrect.

“So, what does it say then?” Reina urged. 

Mile proceeded to review the contents of the letter. “Um, it says he’ll be bringing a group of eight leaders, including the elder and the chief, so we should come meet them. The meeting place seems close enough to here. He says it’s what the local humans call ‘the Quiet Forest’…”

“Oh yeah. That’s only about a half a day away. If the dragons fly straight from their home, they should be able to get there without passing over any major cities. It’s deep in the woods, so there shouldn’t be any human villages in the immediate vicinity, either,” Mavis explained, knowing she was more familiar with the area than Mile.

“So when’s the meeting?” Reina asked—a natural question.

“He didn’t say.”

“Come again?” Reina’s face scrunched in confusion.

“I mean, that’s how it was last time, too, right? There wasn’t any date listed—it was just like, ‘As soon as you get this letter you better come.’ I’d guess that elder dragons don’t even have the concept of schedules. It’s only natural to them that if they summon any other life-form, they will drop everything else they’re doing to come running, and then, those lesser beings will obviously just continue to wait until the dragons are ready to go,” Mavis explained. “Kragon has always been pretty good to us, but I’d suppose he’s no different from the rest of them in that regard. I don’t think he means anything by it.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“Oh!” Mile seemed to have just realized something. “We were gone for a while, though. I wonder how long ago this letter got here.”

“Ah…” The other three cringed.

This isn’t great, they all thought, beads of nervous sweat forming on their foreheads. 

***

“You’re late!” 

As the Crimson Vow veered off of the main road and into the outskirts of the so-called Quiet Forest, a single beastman stood waiting for them on the side of a path. Behind him, in the grass, was a one-man tent. Beside that was a simple stoneware stove and a log that had been fashioned into a human-shaped dummy, perhaps so that he could pass the time with some sword practice.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting, you jerks?! With their sense of time, those elder dragons can laze around in the forest for weeks—months even! But do you know how hard it is for a creature like me to wait around for days in a place like this, all by myself?! I’ve already run through all the rations I brought. I’ve barely had anything to eat the past few days! What took you so long?!”

The old beastman was livid.

“It’s not our fault! We just got back yesterday from a job that took us to another kingdom. You’re the ones who decided to set up this meeting without even checking to see if we were away and then didn’t even set a specific time!” Reina protested. “Are you saying that we’re in the wrong for working hard to complete our job when we didn’t even know that letter had arrived? Why don’t you tell us just exactly how we’ve messed up here, hmm?”

“Er…” The beastman was flummoxed. She was not wrong. “Very well. Please shoot three fireballs up into the air.”

This again…? The members of the Crimson Vow sighed, annoyed, but there had been pushback the last time they had complained, so they silently did as instructed. Then, for the sake of the apparently starving beastman, Mile produced some food from her inventory. She never missed a beat when it came to food.

***

“Oh, here they come…”

A few minutes after the signal was launched, nine shadows appeared in the sky. It went without saying that these were the elder dragons. They should have been waiting somewhere in the forest, but they had probably been asleep, or perhaps it had taken them some time to round up all the individuals who were off tormenting the local wildlife.

But if they were already in the immediate environs, why would they fly straight up into the sky just to fly back down again? The hunters knew the elder dragons well enough at this point to guess that it was probably just because they thought it looked cooler. 

The earth quaked as the nine dragons alighted on the ground with a series of thudding booms.

Let’s see… So that bratty kid leader isn’t here, and neither is Berdetice. Kragon was supposed to be escorting the big shots without any additional fighters, so the one who’s standing a little bit apart from the others, with the decoration I carved into their talon, must be…

“Great to see you again, Kragon!”

It was Kragon, no doubt about it.

“Yes, wonderful to see you in good health, Miss Mile.”

Oh good, I was right! she thought. She wasn’t surprised she’d been able to recognize him—it really was obvious. Though she was unable to tell the dragons apart based on their facial features, determining someone’s identity based on circumstantial evidence was a skill Mile had frequently employed in her previous life as Misato, so she was rather adept at it.

When they had previously met Kragon alone, he had addressed her as “Lady Mile.” Obviously, he hesitated to use so formal an address in front of other elder dragons and had settled on “Miss” this time instead.

“What is it you have called us here for today?” asked Mile, a touch more dignified than usual as she, too, picked up on the mood of the group. 

This had to be important, if the elder dragons’ leaders had come along. Not to mention the strange things already happening in the neighboring regions. Surely…

“Mm, yes, well, we have come here today with an exceedingly important matter. Here before you stand the head of our clan, our clan elder, and the six members of our council of leaders. As for the matter at hand…”

The members of the Crimson Vow gulped.

“We’d like you to engrave all of our claws and horns,” said Kragon. The eight other dragons nodded fervently in agreement.

“Wh—Seriously?!?!?!” the members of the Crimson Vow exclaimed.

“I should have known,” Mile muttered, shaking her head. The fact of the matter was that she had offered to do some engravings for the other dragons, should Kragon’s work prove popular with the females. That said, she’d only really meant it for the soldiers who’d been present at the time. And she’d only really offered at all because she felt like she had to in order to keep the captain who’d been her first test subject from getting into more trouble.

So, why would these higher-ups slight those warriors by making their way here first in order to demand engravings?

“What of the soldiers?” she asked.

“Um, yes, well, that is…”

Kragon averted his eyes. This told Mile all she needed to know.

“This really wasn’t what I meant when I said I could do more of the carvings! I really only said it out of consideration for the soldiers, and for the captain’s position!”

There was a telling pause. 

Kragon surely had known this. As far as elder dragons went, he was rather sagacious and not especially prideful. Still, he found himself at a loss at her reaction. When not in battle, he knew Mile to be typically mild mannered, comparatively awkward, with a face as vacant as a field mouse. He had assumed she’d barely be aware of the distinctions between the individual elder dragons whose horns and nails she’d be carving, maybe even that she’d be honored to deal with elder dragon leaders rather than common soldiers. She should be happy to accept, he thought. 

And while they naturally couldn’t be so discourteous as to ask for scales as recompense, the Crimson Vow could sneakily collect all the carved-off fragments afterward, which should be more than enough payment for Mile’s services. Those fragments could sell for a lot of money…assuming the seller had a way to prove that they were genuinely from elder dragon talons and horns. 

But the Crimson Vow, naturally, had a system in place for this. If someone already had more than ten elder dragon scales on hand, it wouldn’t be strange for them to also have some fragments or dust from their horns and nails. And no one who already possessed that many scales, which could fetch so much money, would risk painting targets on their own backs by selling counterfeit horns and nails. Thus, Kragon had no doubt that the pudgy—to an elder dragon, someone of Pauline’s build inevitably looked pudgy—miser of a girl would give her ringing endorsement to the possibility of Mile fulfilling the elder dragons’ request.

And yet, all four of the girls looked unhappy. 

“Oy! What’s the hold up here?! Hurry up and get started, you lowly little…”

“Shhhhhh!!!”

As one of the dragons started to spit something rather untoward, the others clamped their claws over his mouth. Apparently, they had all been briefed on how they were to deal with the Crimson Vow. There was a certain measure of consideration the hunters were to be shown, human or not. It seemed this particular individual—whether because the briefing had gone over his head or because he felt there was no reason for a great elder dragon to respect the likes of some lowly human—had missed the memo. 

But really, no client should ever purposely anger an artisan or craftsperson right before a job. The effects such behavior would have on the work itself would most certainly be detrimental.

“A-anyway, when the leader, elder, and esteemed council members received word of what you had done to the horns and nails of our soldiers, Miss Mile, they declared that they must come and investigate the matter themselves, directly, at once.”

And then they figured they’d get some carvings themselves, huh? The members of the Crimson Vow groaned internally.

“Do as you like, Mile,” Reina directed. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person capable of doing something this outlandish, and whether you accept or refuse it, we’ll go along with your decision. After all, we are…”

“Allies, bound at the soul!”

“The Crimson Vow!!!”

Kabooooom!!

Their audience today consisted of eight (plus one) of the most influential elder dragons, the strongest beings in this world. As an explosion of four-colored smoke unfurled grandly before them, the elder dragons turned to each other and said… 

“Th…that was so cool…”

It was a hit! Rehearsed moves and poses put on show for the benefit of an audience had quite a novel appeal to elder dragons, who had few amusements and no concept of performances or theater—regardless of their advanced age.

“Anyway,” Mile announced, “I am going to have to decline your request. I’ve already decided the next elder dragons to receive this treatment will be your warriors. And I’m going to need feedback from the captain and any lady dragons of his acquaintance first, so I can perfect my technique for further treatments. That first carving was a show of gratitude from us to the warriors, for retreating against the orders of their higher-ups and for explaining everything to the villagers. It was our way of thanking them and also a means of medical treatment. But we’re not in your debt—are we? You did nothing about the rampaging child you call your leader, even when you were the only ones in a position to do so.”

“Uh…”

The dragons were lost for words, seeming to recognize the truth of Mile’s accusations. Fortunately, she immediately offered a compromise.

“Still, I feel terrible about sending you away after you’ve traveled so far, especially knowing that you’re such a senior group of individuals. So, in lieu of payment for my services, I would like to ask you all a number of questions. We would be most grateful to hear the tales of the elder dragons, who are wise in so many ways that we humans are not, and I believe that it is well worth offering my services in exchange for such wisdom. Does that sound reasonable?”

“Uh… Erm, yes, I suppose that is fair. It is true that sharing our eternal wellspring of knowledge would honor these humans. Furthermore, they can then spread our tales through the land, raising the esteem for elder dragons amongst all their species. For human maidens, these four are rather wise…”

The dragons—who had previously been more inclined to see the Crimson Vow as lesser life-forms—seemed to have a change of heart.

There was no creature in the world who would dare openly oppose or criticize an elder dragon. Likewise, one would never praise nor flatter them. Ordinary living beings would never approach them, let alone speak to them, just as no one would ever walk up to Cerberus to feed it a treat or pat it on the head.

Even the beastfolk and demons who operated at the elder dragons’ behest were probably too reverent to do much besides obey their commands. They never went so far as to praise them. Thus, no matter how much smarter than humans the elder dragons might be, they were not accustomed to being lauded so directly, and Mile’s little speech flattered them into a good mood. 

“Now then, ask whatever you please. What manner of tale would you like to hear? A story of the founding of this nation? Or perhaps of the great war that took place half a millennium ago, or the mysterious barren plain some hundreds of kilometers across on another continent…”

“Huh? Wait, don’t tell me…”

A number of words floated through Mile’s head, but she brushed them all away. 

Instead, she asked, “What I would like to know is why you’ve been sending demons and beastfolk to investigate those ruins. What do you hope to accomplish? How much do you know of the otherworldly invasions currently occurring? Also, do you know of any little beastgirls who live around here?”

“What the hell?!?!”

The elder dragons were dumbfounded by the line of questioning. The members of the Crimson Vow merely sighed, resigned to the inevitability of Mile mixing her nonsensical final question in with such actually relevant inquiries.

“Wh-why do you know anything about all this, you fiend?!” raged the dragon who was presumably the clan elder, seemingly forgetting all about horn decor. This was, apparently, more serious business. “This is forbidden knowledge, held only by a fraction of even we elder dragons. No human could ever possibly know of…”

There were, of course, plenty of humans who knew about the investigations by now, given that the elder dragons had subcontracted much of the work to demons and beastfolk. Therefore, it was likely not Mile’s knowledge of the investigations so much as the part after that—the “otherworldly invasions”—that the elder was referring to. It stood to reason that the investigation teams had probably been fed some pretext, while the real purpose of their assignments remained top secret. 

“I mean, I’ve just been figuring out what I can based on observation. I’ve witnessed what appear to be rifts in space-time three times: during a cultic ritual, at the dwarven village, and while investigating in the kingdom of Aubram. Plus, we encountered and dealt with the aberrant monsters a number of times. And there’s the golems, which the apparently mature and peaceful prehistorical civilization left behind as their legacy, and which seem to be defensive machines geared toward melee combat, no beam cannons attached or anything… I suppose the ones that survived all these eons would be the ones that were simplest, sturdiest, and most durable in construction…”

Indeed, the golems had cores in the middle of their bodies that seemed to control all their functions. Their other parts were incredibly simplistic, not requiring much skill or many materials to repair. This was especially true of the rock golems. 

The Scavengers, meanwhile, were mostly there as logistical support and were quite speedy, so it was rare for them to be wiped out in battle. On the occasion that one of them broke down, they themselves or their companions could repair them with little material cost or effort. However, the Scavengers’ range of operation was limited, and if they pushed too hard, they could be spotted by humans and wiped out. As a result, any defensive machines that required rarer materials for their maintenance would gradually fall into disrepair and cease to function, after which there was little to be done. Of course, now that Mile had lifted their restrictions, there was less worry of that…

“Wh…?”

The elder was stunned silent, and rightfully so. This was forbidden knowledge, secrets hidden from all but the elders of every generation, as well as those who assumed the role of “secret elders” (those tapped for leadership should an elder suddenly kick the bucket before a proper succession could be arranged). And yet, it had somehow become available to a member of a short-lived race, one that had already forgotten all lore of what had occurred so long ago.

The elder gritted his teeth, reticent, then answered Mile’s final question:

“You may find many young beastgirls at the beastfolk settlement, but you shan’t find that anywhere around here.”

“That’s what he’s mad about?!” the three other members of the Crimson Vow shouted, as Mile slumped to the ground.

***

The knowledge they sought was forbidden, unknown to all but the most elite of elder dragons. It was unimaginable that it might ever reach the ears of any other races. However, if the information had already gotten out by other means, there was no point in insisting on silence or hunting down rogue elements to further protect those secrets. In fact, there were probably plenty of people who had possessed such knowledge in the distant past…

This made the Crimson Vow feel more at ease. Given that the hunters already knew the gist of things, the dragons deemed it appropriate to fill them in on the details. Indeed, it would create more trouble if the girls started spreading a story that was close to the truth but full of misunderstandings on the finer points. And if any of those misunderstandings made it up to human leadership, a worst case scenario like the Great Demi-human War was within the realm of possibility. Yes—in light of the circumstances, it was not at all strange that the elders should deign to share some measure of information.

“Once upon a time, when the world was young, there lived a brilliant group of humans…”

“Why are you telling this like some ancient legend?!”

“Well, the story is ancient…”

“Ah. Of course.” Mile’s interjection was easily brushed off, and the elder dragon continued his tale: 

Long ago, there was a group of culturally advanced humans. However, misfortune befell this group, dealing them a heavy blow. They managed to survive but only at great cost, and there was no telling when something similar might occur again. And so, the people boarded a boat to the heavens and left this world for good. 

A portion of the populace stayed behind. And with them stayed the benevolent Seven Sages. To guard them. To protect them. To be allies.

“To you, we grant wisdom and power.”

“Dearest Pero, please protect our children…”

An ancient contract.

A duty. A promise. A raison d’être.

Lost knowledge. A ruined civilization. A vanished people.

And a disaster that might occur again at any time.

…An enemy.

“Dearest Pero, please protect our children.”

“Dearest Pero, please protect our children.”

“Dearest Pero, please protect our children.”

“Pero… Would that be…?”

“Lord Pero, one of the Original Twelve, most likely… We were the progenitors,” the elder explained.

The members of the Crimson Vow were silent. If this was all true and not some mere legend… 

A crisis that would lead to the destruction of the world. 

The fact that elder dragons rarely killed humans unless those humans had attempted to harm them, or threatened to cause some large-scale extinction, or perpetuated intense violence against another race…

“‘Progenitors’ would mean that you weren’t there before that, right?”

The elder gave no reply.

“Wait—I don’t get it,” said Reina. “You weren’t there at the time. You’re just passing down the legends that were passed down to you…”

Though her companions were confused, something clicked for Mile, perhaps because this aligned with the information she had received from the “No. 3 Auxiliary Backup System of the Economical Autonomous Basic Defense Control System.”

“Do you know about the ‘One-Seventh Plan’ or the ‘Super Soldier’ program?”

“Never heard of it.”

“I see. Well, I have some theories, anyway…”

Yes, she had some thoughts about skilled combatants, and things at one-seventh scale.

“So… Is this all right?”

“Is what all right?”

“Well, I mean, we knew about this stuff before, but you were keeping this information secret from the other dragons, weren’t you?”

There were, after all, eight dragons present here besides the elder. The elder, however, shook his head.

“That only applies in times of peace. Should the time come when it becomes necessary to reveal this information to everyone, we will do so. If we shared this information in peacetime, it might cause chaos or prompt some to try and harm humans. After all, we elder dragons were…”

The elder did not complete his sentence, but Mile knew what he was implying.

They were created by humans…

“So, other than the stories that were passed down, what do you recall of the monsters and such from when you were young?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh…

“When you are as old as I am, it’s hard to remember things from that long ago, no matter how strong an impression they left. Everyday things begin to grow jumbled in your mind, until you can’t remember when they were or what exactly happened. Do any of you recall what you ate for dinner on the night of your third birthday? Do you recall how many loaves of bread you’ve ever eaten? Our life spans are so many orders of magnitude longer than yours. If we didn’t start to let go of memories of the past, we’d never get by!”

“That’s fair…”

Plus, creatures like dinosaurs were said to have pretty small brains. If elder dragons’ brains were equally small, and they were somehow squeezing more intellect out of them than humans could, then their brains were probably already working at full capacity, without much wiggle room.

It takes a lot of work to avoid putting too much stress on your brain…

“You were thinking something rude just now, weren’t you?!” the elder suddenly shouted.

“Wh…? How’d you know…?”

“I knew it!!!”

“Ah…”

After that, the members of the Crimson Vow were able to coax the dragon elder into telling them various tales that he could remember. Some were clearly oft-told legends, framed in simple sentences and mixed with rhymes for their mnemonic value, but the rest seemed slightly dubious. It wasn’t that the elder dragons were lying, or meant them ill—just that it was inevitable their memories would gradually change over such a vast amount of time, whether that meant their sharp edges were washed smooth by an ocean of recollections or that they merged with each other. 

In terms of intellect, the elder dragons should have had the capacity to master writing. And yet, they had no written language. Since they had individual symbols with which to identify themselves, it should have followed that they would have an alphabet…but they had one fatal flaw when it came to actually manipulating letters. Namely, their size. Even if the shapes of their hands and fingers had been suited to holding a writing implement, their size would dwarf any quill pen.

Why not just fashion a pen of suitable size?

There were simply no birds with feathers large enough to form the quill, and even if they were to carve a log, they had neither ink to dip it in nor paper to write upon. They could perhaps skin a whole sheep to make a sheepskin parchment, but elder dragons had neither the dexterity nor the desire to do so. After all, they were a brutish race who were used to relying on their absurd power in both magical and physical combat. And so, their lack of a written language was a function of their bodies, not their brains. 

Sadly, words were necessary to make sure that future generations received the details of your messages clearly…

***

“How about something like this?”

“H-hm, yes, not bad…”

As thanks for the information they had shared, Mile had offered to carve the pinky nails on the elder dragons’ left hands. 

This particular dragon seemed pleased at the result.

He was the lowest-ranking member of the group, and Mile had started with him, with the intention of collecting each dragon’s impressions and feedback on the result before moving on to the next individual. In light of this, it only made sense that the higher-ranking members should come later. While elder dragons had no sense of graphic design principles—mostly due to having never been exposed to such things, rather than a lack of ability to appreciate them—they were at least capable of forming impressions based on something good they had seen and using that as the basis for criticism.

“I shall be next! I desire something a bit more subdued, with more gravitas. I’ll leave the details up to you, and I shan’t complain about the result.”

“Understood! Leave it to me!”

Mile would never complain about receiving general directions rather than specific ones. This was, in fact, the mark of an ideal customer. It made things much simpler for her, and as such, she was grateful for the elder dragons’ crude aesthetic sensibilities. 

She got back to work. It took even her quite some time to carve one claw for eight different elder dragons, with each design made to order and more intricate than the last. Getting the job done without breaks for food and sleep would have been a tall order. Obviously, she couldn’t let any of these important dragons walk away with designs that were simpler or less deft than those she had given the dragon soldiers. It simply wouldn’t do for them to look any less dignified. Such was the reality of the dragon hierarchy.

Thankfully, the elder dragons were happy to wait while Mile worked, and the beastman was equally content to stay, gorging himself on the food that Pauline cooked with the ingredients Mile provided.

As she worked, Mile chatted with the dragons whose horns and talons she was carving, asking them all sorts of questions—not unlike a beautician at the salon making conversation with her clients.

“So,” she asked, “are your legends passed down in the elder dragon tongue? I’m wondering if there are any subtleties of meaning lost in translating them into human speech.”

“Hm? What are you saying? We share language with humans. In fact, our ancestors were likely taught by the humans how to speak.”

“Wha…? Oh, I see!”

If the elder dragons were originally creatures lacking language fluency, and if humans had boosted those creatures’ intelligence and given them the power of speech, it only stood to reason that they would have taught them human language. There was certainly no reason for the elder dragons to have bothered devising their own.

Until now, Mile had assumed the elder dragons had been kind enough to learn human speech for the sake of communication. Apparently, she had been vastly mistaken. 

After that, out of consideration for the elder dragons’ pride, Mile stuck to more inoffensive topics of conversation, mixing in inquiries about things she wished to know about here and there. The dragons, usually starved for amusement, ate up Mile’s entertaining stories of the human world and were happy to answer her questions in return, all of which only helped the exchange of information. While elder dragons looked down on humans, they also recognized that they had their purpose, albeit one very different from their own. Thus, there was no point in being cruel to them. It was not unlike the way that humans are happy to care for the cats that drive away mice or the dogs that help to round up sheep—and once humans begin to spend time with these animals, they grow fond of them. There were even stories about times when elder dragons had aided the humans they took a liking to or granted them scales.

Knowing these stories, the other members of the Crimson Vow weren’t about to let such a valuable opportunity slip through their fingers. Unlike Mile, they had no concrete goals in mind, but an elder dragon who was considered an elder among their kind would have borne witness to centuries, perhaps even millennia, of history. Even if they had lived so long that their memories were falling out of sequence, they’d still know plenty of things humans might find useful. So they took this opportunity to approach the dragons who were still waiting their turn, or those who were already finished, and the dragons were happy to oblige them, as a human with some time on their hands might play with a little rabbit.

“Are there any special tricks to how beings as powerful as yourselves use magic?” asked Reina with uncharacteristic politeness. Apparently, even Reina could muster up a bit of courtesy if she was speaking to an elder dragon elder—one who might be able to teach her something she wanted to know! As Pauline would put it, “Lip service costs nothing.”

“Hm? I can’t say anything comes to mind… We elder dragons have simply been blessed by the gods.”

Useless… In another unusual turn, Reina managed the self-control to keep her frustration from showing—though the elder dragons would likely have been unable to read such nuance in a human expression, anyway.

“To our eyes, you are nothing more than hatchlings, still breaking from your shells. There’s no need to hurry when you are yet so very young. As I recall, humans consider fifteen years to be a coming of age. Looking at you, I would guess you are younger even than that. I have lived many years in my long life and would say I am quite skilled in discerning the age of humans. As such, I would wager I guessed yours accurately just now. Based on your appearance, your size, your manner of speech, and your intellect, I must be right on the mark. Humans are always so surprised, so very surprised when I am able to guess their age, thinking I would never be able to do so! Bwa ha ha! So, as for your exact age, I would say…eleven, no, twelve years old!”

“Who’s twelve?!?!”

There was a dull thwunk as Reina drove her right fist into the dragon’s side. Followed by…

“Gaaaaah!!!”

She gripped her right wrist with her left hand and screamed.

“Reina, you have to realize that you can’t just punch an elder dragon barehanded,” Pauline chided. “You aren’t Mile…” 

She quickly set to healing Reina’s now wrecked fingers, wrist, and shoulder as the other girl writhed and grumbled. Apparently, she had not only managed to break a few fingers but sprained her wrist and screwed up her shoulder as well. Her whole hand was swollen from the wrist up, implying some sort of internal bleeding. Part of it was already beginning to purple into a deeper black.

Once Pauline’s magic had stopped the pain, and her arm had returned to its normal color, Reina continued to glare at the elder dragons, gritting her teeth. But really, she had brought this on herself. In fact, the dragon hadn’t even realized Reina had touched him, so his expression had not shifted in the slightest. 

There was no point in picking a fight here. This might be the only chance they ever had to speak to elder dragons like this. Most people would never have such an opportunity. And so, Reina continued asking questions of the dragons, as though nothing had ever happened.

Meanwhile, Pauline was in conversation with a different dragon. “Wise and honorable dragon,” she began, “would you happen to know the location of any gold or other precious metals that can be mined close to human settlements?”

A fastball right down home plate!!! Mile, Reina, and Mavis (the latter of whom had been trained in certain lingo by Mile’s folktales) all screamed internally. 

Pauline’s question might be considered fair in light of the fact that there were certain types of dragons and birds who had a particular predilection for gathering shiny things. However…

“Gold? Are you speaking of the gold ore that humans use for their coinage? We do not use money, and we rarely do any mining. What use would we have for a metal that’s more fragile than iron?”

Elder dragons had no methods for mining or refining gold ore, since they did not use money or seem to have any need for gold at all. Naturally, they would have little interest in the metal.

Elder dragons are useless… Pauline internally spat.

“Great elder dragon,” said Mavis to yet another, “could I ask you to teach me what you understand to be your duties as a powerful individual and how the strong are to comport themselves?” 

Naturally, her interests differed from those of Pauline or Reina. And, in fact, the elder dragon seemed a little bit impressed by Mavis’s question.

“My! Rather striking you are, for one so young. Very well. I shall teach you all I know!”

Mavis had asked this question thinking ahead to a time when she might be at her strongest, but of course, no elder dragon would imagine that a human—especially a mere infant of not even twenty years—would have such things in mind. Humans perished and turned to dust without ever reaching anything approaching the strength of even a newborn elder dragon. Thus, the elder dragon assumed Mavis was asking for an insight into the mind of a great and powerful elder dragon, specifically, rather than thinking about anything she could achieve. The dragon also had come to another conclusion… 

“Of course. Though you are but a weakling of a human, your heart rings different from that of those three females. Such a strong resolve for a weak creature must belong to a male of the species…”

“Huh?” Mavis was speechless. “But I-I’m a woman! A ‘female,’ as you put it!” Even if it was coming from an elder dragon, she could not overlook such a slight. 

The elder dragon, perhaps realizing his error, swiftly turned his gaze away.

All of which was to say that, in the end, the four of them were successful in gathering some measure of information…

***

Much later…

The earth rumbled as eight elder dragons roared out in joy. 

“That was quite the endeavor,” said the eldest elder dragon. “We offer this as your reward.”

He handed over a crystal the size of a softball.

“Some refer to this as a Dragon Orb. It has no great value to us, but we hear they have always been prized by humans. I’m sure it would fetch a decent price.”

Mile’s thoughts immediately drifted. If you gather up eight dragons, she thought, and make a wish, you receive a Dragon Ball… No! Wait! That’s completely backwards!

Reina, meanwhile, rushed to prop up Pauline, who had nearly collapsed on the spot. Apparently, a Dragon Orb was something quite valuable. Enough to knock Pauline off her feet…

“Perhaps we have tipped our hand too much today, but this forewarning of an ‘enemy’ invasion is quite valuable. It is a joyous thing that this meeting has turned out to be so beneficial to both parties. And fret not, we shall be whipping those youngsters into shape. Now then, fare thee well, you charming lesser life-fo—er, humans!”

***

“They’re gone.”

“They’ve gone now.”

“I think they’re gone.”

“It appears they are gone.”

The members of the Crimson Vow were in agreement: The dragons had departed. Even Pauline had seemingly recovered from her previous mental assault.

“I guess we didn’t get most of what we wanted from our dragon connections. They never told us why it was that they were going around investigating the ruins. But at least we can venture a pretty fair guess…”

Though they had asked many of the questions they wanted to, this hadn’t been an especially good haul, as far as information went. The elder dragons hadn’t really had much to offer them beyond sharing the legends that were passed down among their kind—which were little different from the myths told by the elves and dwarves and fairies. They had offered a few glimpses into the deeper secrets they held but, ultimately, only really managed to provide some small amendments to what Mile already knew.

Still, it had been fun to hear tales of what was, for humans, the distant past. The way the elder dragons spoke of the many historical events at which they had been idle spectators was fascinating… Honestly, those stories were way more entertaining than any of the legends. And the intel was especially valuable for Mile, at least in regard to her endeavors as Miami Satodele. Even the other three avidly took note of the tidbits they would pen in their own autobiographies once they became great heroes, A-rank hunters, or legendary merchants.

“Let’s go home,” Reina said.

“All right!!”

Though they had done no actual hunting on this trip, between the horn and nail shavings and the Dragon Orb, this was an unimaginable haul for two days’ work. Of course, they weren’t exactly hurting for money and loath to cause the stir that would result from a C-rank party presenting such bounty at the guild hall. So for now, these new treasures became nothing more than another entry in the ledger of Mile’s inventory. 

***

“Oh!” 

In the middle of dinner at the inn, Mile suddenly gasped.

“What’s up, Mile?” asked Mavis.

“I-It’s no…thing…”

Crap, she thought. I forgot something. Nanos!

YES, MA’AM!

Nanos, the captain of the extradimensional expedition unit told me that when they were returning home, they came from somewhere up in the sky, right? They also said that a metal golem—a robot—from the other side fell in with them! Could you retrieve it and scan its memory?

UNFORTUNATELY, IT SEEMS TO HAVE SUSTAINED MASSIVE DAMAGE DURING THE DESCENT. ITS MEMORY WAS WIPED, AND IT BURNED OUT ITS OWN CIRCUITS WHEN ITS POWER SOURCE OVERHEATED, CAUSING IT TO SELF-DESTRUCT. IT FELL INTO THE OCEAN, AND THE FRAGMENTS ARE NOW IN A DEEP TRENCH… EVEN IF WE WERE TO RETRIEVE THEM, THEY WOULD BE NOTHING MORE THAN WORTHLESS METAL SHARDS.

Ah, of course. Guess it couldn’t be that easy…

Sadly, Mile’s sudden mid-meal brain wave was all for naught. Obviously, this directly concerned the safety of this world, so if the robot had retained any data, the nanomachines surely would have made Mile aware of this right away. The fact that they hadn’t done so had to mean the path was well and truly a dead end.

IN SUCH MATTERS, IT IS OUR POLICY TO ACCOMMODATE YOUR WISHES AS MUCH AS THE RULES ALLOW, LADY MILE, BUT WE ARE FORBIDDEN FROM ANY SPONTANEOUS, PROACTIVE INTERFERENCE WITH EXTRADIMENSIONAL WORLDS OR THEIR CIVILIZATIONS OR INHABITANTS. AS SUCH, WE CANNOT OPERATE AS YOU WOULD IMAGINE, OUTSIDE OF ACTIONS SUCH AS ANALYZING CORPSES OR FULLY DEFUNCT ARTIFICIAL LIFE-FORMS. WE CANNOT GET INVOLVED OUTSIDE OF LAUNCHING ATTACKS IN THE FORM OF MAGIC, OR ACT AT ALL ACCORDING TO OUR OWN WILL OR INTENTIONS… OUR APOLOGIES.

It’s all right, you’re just acting as God—er, your creator directed. Don’t worry about it!

……

***

Somewhere, an aged, weary-looking elder dragon peered intently out from a cloak of shadow. This dragon’s horns were adorned with elaborate carvings, and a marking of the same pattern was carved into the pinky nail of his left hand.

“Such is the way of things,” he boomed. “You defied our orders and sealed your own fate.”

Another dragon let out a growl of resentment at this elder, who was being waited upon by a young female dragon, her face only half-visible from the shadows.

This particular dragon had seen the sudden rise in popularity the elite soldiers and committee members had enjoyed after receiving their cool carvings. He had been attempting to coerce the soldiers into revealing the identity of the carver so that he might be decorated as well. However, the soldiers had been commanded by their leaders never to bother said carver again, which meant they had to refuse. (Of course, Kragon, at least, had extracted a promise that he could have his horns carved later.) 

“Well,” this particular dragon had decided, “if they won’t tell me who the carver is, I’ll just do the carving myself.”

Surely, if a lowly life-form like a human could accomplish such a thing, a great and powerful elder dragon could as well. And so he had set at once to the task…

“No way! The teeth will never get through!” said the man with the saw.

At first, the elder dragon had commanded the aid of demons and beastmen, but none of them had the requisite strength to carve an elder dragon’s nail or horn. Next, they attempted to have several people operate the tools at once, but that only succeeded in breaking their saw.

It should have been obvious that no ordinary saw, operated by either demon or beastman, could harm an elder dragon. Even a well-muscled warrior with a massive sword couldn’t make a single dent in an elder dragon. It was only because Mile was working with an entirely different set of tools that she was able to accomplish this. 

Plus, the designs that the demons and beastmen had drawn for him were absolutely hideous.

“Ugh. Enough! I was a fool to ever pin my hopes on such lowly life-forms!”

With no other options, he decided it was time to take matters into his own hands…but the design he came up with himself was even worse. Still, it was too late to back down. He carved his own nails and horns. The result of which was…

“Bwa ha ha ha ha ha!!!”

His nails were chipped and uneven. His horns were not only warped and jagged, but it seemed he had underestimated his own strength during the carving, because the tip of one of them had been snapped clear off.

Some laughed, while others pitied him too much to do so, turning away with their shoulders shaking. All the while, the self-made victim merely wallowed in his despair. He had become an object of ridicule in the eyes of the other dragons, who had been gussied up by Mile, and could now only stare from his darkened corner… 

“This blows! Every time I think I’m really gettin’ into it with a lady, we lock eyes with some ancient creep staring at us from the shadows, and it totally kills the mood! The ladies just scream and run away!”

The other dragons were unimpressed.

Hearing their words, the councilor was outraged. He had already lived more than eighty percent of his life but still had some centuries left to go. He wasn’t old enough to be considered decrepit.

“I mean, this is all your own fault… Plus, horns and nails grow back if you remove them. It’s your own fault if you’re too cowardly to do it just because it’ll hurt!”

Indeed, if an elder dragon lost a horn or talon, they would simply grow back in. The horns were not attached to the skull and would regrow themselves, a bit like a deer’s antlers. They did not shed and grow back every season like antlers, but if broken, they would reform from the root. Though it was unclear whether they were naturally built this way or if the nanomachines simply did the rebuilding for them when necessary. 

The talons were the same and could reliably grow back if lost. In fact, Mile had only agreed to do her engravings in the first place because of this, knowing the dragons would be all right in a worst-case scenario. She would never have agreed to the arrangement so readily if damaged horns and nails might never grow back again.

Clearly, the unfortunate dragon would have been better off removing his nails and horns. But doing so would cause him a great deal of pain, and he would be stuck looking rather unseemly until they grew back in, so he had yet to work up the courage. In other words, he was a wimp. This cowardice was probably inevitable—after all, it was normally unthinkable for elder dragons to sustain grave injuries, which meant most were strangers to pain, easily frightened by rumors of how agonizing such an amputation could be. 

“It’s just too sad. Perhaps we should let him go with the warriors when they—”

“Never! That would mean bending the rules, and if we were to set such a precedent, we’d have droves of fools coming out of the woodwork and similarly maiming themselves in hopes of the same outcome!”

“Very true. The results could be devastating. Then they would get more popular with the ladies and…”

Apparently, having these carvings was something of a god-tier cheat code.

“Anyway, we have a greater problem at hand.”

“Yes?”

“The females have been clamoring that they wish to get carvings, too… We cannot even entertain the notion.”

“Isn’t it your old woman who’s leading that charge?”

“And your daughter and granddaughter who are following in her footsteps!”

“Now now, let’s not get too agitated…”

“Why are you talking like this isn’t your problem?! Don’t forget your sister was yelling at the committee just yesterday!”

“I already apologized for that! And anyway, isn’t the biggest issue here that the chief’s daughter is getting in on this?!”

It seemed like the pitiful dragon with his botched carvings was probably out of luck.