The Hero King, Reincarnate to Master the Art of War (LN) - Volume 6 - Chapter 1

Chapter I: Inglis, Age 15—The Ancient Dragon and the (Former) Old King (1)

“See? There’s a bit of a cutout at the chest, and the sleeves have fluttery details.”

“Hmm, like this?”

“Yeah, that’s it! I knew you’d get it, Rani.”

“Of course I do. Dressing you up is my thing,” Rafinha boasted. She and Inglis had spread out a sheet of paper on the deck of the damaged Flygear Port and were happily discussing its contents. Her pen raced over the paper, marking down Inglis’s requests for a ceremonial dress with winglike ornamentation. “And you want it in light blue and white? It’ll be adorable, but it might be a bit light for around here.”

“Don’t worry. I’m sure I’ll be warm.”

“Huh? What do you mean? I can’t make the dress have powers like an Artifact.”

“Hm? Trust me, it’ll be fine. Think you can sew this?”

“I think so. The supplies we brought are still safe and sound.” Rafinha half climbed into one of the larger bundles. “Hmm... There it is! This’ll be perfect for what you described!” In her arms were bolts of fabric in white and light blue.

“Ooh! Great! Then, as soon as you can get to it.”

“Okay! Just leave it to me!”

“Hey, hold it, you two!” a voice chided. “We don’t have time to play around like that!”

He was one of the knights of Alcard, freed from Leclair, a man in his midtwenties who nonetheless was the highest ranking of the survivors and had taken to acting as their representative. He’d said his name was Lewin.

“Hey, we have a reason for this.” Rafinha, at least, seemed to be fully convinced.

“Huh?” Inglis asked. “Oh, yeah... This is a priestess’s habit—it’s for hearing an ancient dragon’s voice. If I wear this, I should be able to communicate with him.”

“Should” was the operative word, but Inglis had actually seen it in her past life. A woman claiming to be a priestess of the ancient dragons had worn that outfit in order to communicate with the ancient dragon Fufailbane. The ceremonial dress had seemed to contain some small tinge of mana. Furthermore, Fufailbane had become less hostile when seeing it and more willing to communicate, even if only in bemused curiosity.

The priestess had said it was a behavior learned from the custom of sacrificing maidens. Assuming the woman was right, Inglis could communicate with the ancient dragon if she observed the expected formalities. She deeply wanted to have that conversation and find out what had happened in this world while she was gone.

Besides, it’d be a plus if Fufailbane happened to attack her under the assumption that she truly was a sacrifice. If anything, she was hoping for that to come to pass. If anything, being reborn as a woman had fortunately made such a thing more likely.

“Huh? You want to talk with it?” Rafinha pointed down toward where Leclair had been. In the crater that now existed, a dragon’s tail protruded like a gigantic tree.

After driving off the hieral menace Tiffanyer, loyal to the Papal League, and putting an end to her ravages of Alcard, Inglis and her group had gotten the Flygear Port up and moving again. Tiffanyer’s attack had damaged it, but emergency repairs had made it flightworthy again, albeit only at slow speeds. It had taken around half a day to get back to it and then move it into the air, and in that time there had been no change in the tail’s condition.

“Well, I should at least ask him how he wants to be served, right?” Inglis said.

“Aha ha ha. Yeah, I guess.”

Leone gasped, raising her voice both in surprise and in disgust. “Wait, you were serious when you said you were going to eat it?!”

“Well, I suppose we shouldn’t be too surprised,” Liselotte said. “But if they keep saying that...” Liselotte’s concern was immediately confirmed by Lewin’s increasing skepticism. The Alcardian knight didn’t know how to take what he was hearing.

“No, no, wait!” he shouted. “That thing doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere, so we should just leave it alone. Maybe post a small guard. More importantly, we need to get to the capital and report to His Majesty that we’ve driven off the hieral menace.”

“Isn’t that why we lent Flygears to send messengers to the capital and the army on the border?” Inglis asked.

“No, Prince Lahti must make his triumphant entrance!” Lewin insisted. “Otherwise, his great deeds will—”

“Be swept under the rug by opportunists who did nothing themselves?”

“That’s right. Prince Lahti saved my life, and in return I offer it up to him! For his sake!”

Inglis understood what Lewin meant: they must not be late to make their move in the machinations which would soon envelop the political leadership.

And he seemed to truly want to devote himself to Lahti. On the other hand, doing so was also an advantageous career move. That much was undeniable. Were Lahti to become king, he would need allies. But...it was still too early for them to move hastily.

She shook her head. “No. We can’t. It’s too soon. We still have important things to do here.”

“What do you mean?” Lewin asked.

“Indeed, we’re no longer under threat from the hieral menace of Highland. Nonetheless, the people around Leclair are still without food, suffering from her plundering. If the situation continues like this, many are sure to starve. What difference would it make, then, if we simply left? Would not their fates be the same as if we’d failed to stop her?”

Lewin finally realized the severity of their circumstances. Perhaps he’d been imprisoned in Leclair for so long that he possessed no idea of the larger situation affecting the country.

“If that’s the case, then we must address it. When did this happen? Have you seen it firsthand?”

“Just recently. On our way here, we saw many people going hungry,” Rafinha answered.

“She’s right. I was with them. We have to do something about this—and fast.” Lahti’s confirmation was enough to thoroughly persuade Lewin.

“Ugh, I see... But wait, then shouldn’t Prince Lahti head to the capital immediately?” Lewin suggested. “We must petition His Majesty to set up food aid for the people! It can be sent from the army on the border! If the prince is there, I think it will be easier to proceed.”

“But will it really go so smoothly? This is a race against time,” Inglis objected.

“If there’s no food in the area, then we have no choice but to bring it in from areas that do have it, right?” Lewin continued. “Anyway, we need to do our utmost—”

“Hold on. There is food here. See?” Inglis pointed down at the dragon’s tail.

The conversation had turned, once again, to the ancient dragon Fufailbane.

“What?! Y-You’re going to kill it and distribute it as food to the people?”

“Yeah. That seems to be the quickest solution, doesn’t it?” Inglis smiled at the stunned knight.

Without that assumption, she wouldn’t have allowed Tiffanyer, Harim, and the Highlanders to leave with Leclair, which presumably still held the stolen food. In that case, taking back the town would have been necessary.

However, that would also have made negotiations more complex. Reclaiming the food would have taken time. Tiffanyer could have regained consciousness and brought the negotiations to an impasse. As lovely and pure a maiden as she looked, her mind was cunning and calculating. She was fundamentally different from Eris and Ripple, beautiful in both body and spirit. She’d have imposed some burdensome conditions upon them once she knew their goal. Plus, she may have had some idea that her predecessor, Evel, had plans for the ancient dragon, so perhaps she would have refused to leave at all.

If that had happened, Inglis would have had to finish Tiffanyer off forcefully—if she had done so, and then been forced to deal with the unexpectedly awakened dragon while exhausted, it would have been nothing short of a crisis. Therefore, the best choice at the time had been to come to an agreement with Harim, who seemed to prioritize Tiffanyer’s safety, while the hieral menace was not a thorn in their side.

Additionally, she could pursue the ancient dragon rather than emptying Leclair’s stores. That way, she could both fight the dragon without Tiffanyer’s interference and enjoy dragon meat, which was supposed to be delicious. Inglis had already planned this out before the negotiations.

Thanks to the dragon’s continued slumber, Inglis had taken half a day to recover from her fatigue. With one night’s sleep, she’d be back to peak performance. Her concerns had turned out to be unnecessary, but she’d had no way of knowing ahead of time. Inglis was glad she’d made the decision she had.

“We’ll resolve this food shortage right here. Plus, if everyone can see Lahti involved, it’ll improve his popularity even more. It’s too early to leave, because he has one more grand accomplishment here,” Inglis explained.

She needed to make sure that Lahti got the credit and the acclaim. Having it forced on her instead would be trouble.

“I-I see! So that’s what you were thinking. Forgive me, I didn’t realize you’d put so much thought into it.” Lewin bowed his head, suddenly seeing Inglis in a new light.

Rafinha, a twinkle in her eye, was even more enthusiastic. “That sounds great! Good job, Chris! Turns out you care about more than tasty food! You’re so grown-up!” Rafinha hugged Inglis and patted her on the head.

Inglis was pleased so long as Rafinha was happy, but... “Wait, Rani, why are you responding like that now? I thought you went along with it because you knew.”

“Huh? Nah, there’s just no arguing with you when you’re hungry. And besides, I’ve got an empty tummy too...” Rafinha giggled and stuck out her tongue. It was an obvious excuse, but from the perspective of an ersatz grandparent, a forgivably adorable one.

Remaining silent, Inglis turned her gaze to Leone and Liselotte.

“That sounds great! It’s a really good idea!” Leone beamed, proud of Inglis.

“Yes, it sounds wonderful,” Liselotte agreed.

From what Inglis could tell, no one had understood her intentions at first. How depressing. Just what did they think of her normally? “Anyway, that’s what I’ve got planned. Please make me that outfit when you can.”

“Got it!” Rafinha replied. “That makes me even more motivated!”

“Let me help too!” Pullum said. “I’m sure I’ll be able to help out somehow.”

“Thanks, Pullum! Let’s get started then!” Rafinha said, full of cheer.

“I should get something to eat before the fight...” Inglis said. The Flygear Port still had a little bit of food left on it. With all the meat that would be coming from the ancient dragon, surely it was fine to finish off what they had. Staying hungry for too long would leave her unable to show her full power.

“No fair, Chris! I’m hungry too! Don’t take it all for yourself!”

“But you need to get to sewing in a hurry...”

“My hands shake when I’m hungry! I won’t be able to sew anything nice! I don’t want to make anything you’d be embarrassed to wear, so I need to eat first!”

Pullum laughed. “Then I’ll get started, Rafinha. You go ahead and eat.”

“Okay! Thanks, Pullum.”

“In that case...” Inglis began.

“Leone, could you make us something?” Inglis and Rafinha intoned in unison, with wide smiles.

“You’re always so quick to ask me to do it...” Leone grumbled.

“It’s because you make such tasty food,” the two replied.

“Well, that’s nice to hear, but... Okay. Just hold on a minute.”

Doubt crossed Lewin’s face again as he watched the girls. He turned to Lahti. “Er, Prince Lahti... Is it really a good idea to leave such dangerous matters to these ladies? They seem like normal girls... Cute, of course, but can spindly little things like them take on a dragon?”

“Hm? They’ll be fine. You won’t be seeing them in that light for long.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Once you see them eat, you won’t think they’re cute. Once you see them fight, you won’t think they’re spindly. Inglis chased off a hieral menace basically on her own, right? If she can’t do anything about a dragon, there isn’t anyone in this country who can.”

“Sh-She’s that strong?” Lewin gasped.

“Listen, Lahti, I don’t know what you mean by that, but I haven’t forgotten what you promised before we came to Leclair!” Rafinha interjected. “There’s plenty of time while we wait for dinner, so now’s your chance! Come over here and say it!”

Before they’d traveled to Leclair from the other Alcardian towns, Lahti had said that he wouldn’t hesitate to use his power as king to protect Pullum. The girl had been left in a tenuous position by her brother’s betrayal to side with Tiffanyer. At the time, Rafinha and the other girls had gotten excited over the idea that he would—for example—rescue Pullum and then propose to her. Rafinha was excited to bring that back up.

“That’s absurd! This isn’t the time! Not until we deal with this mess completely! And don’t use such a significant thing as small talk while you wait for dinner!”

“Whaaat? But you promised!” she whined.

“I didn’t promise anything like that to begin with!”

“What are you talking about? It sounds like fun,” Pullum interjected.

“Whoa, it’s nothing, absolutely nothing! Hurry up and get Inglis’s outfit made! We don’t have any time to waste!” Flustered, Lahti changed the subject.

◆◇◆

And finally...

“Wow, it looks great! Chris, you’re adorable! It’s perfect on you! You can work any outfit, so it’s really worth making things for you to wear.”

Rafinha, dark circles under her eyes, held up a hand mirror reflecting Inglis. As stern and dignified as the priestess’s outfit itself was, the amount of skin visible around her shoulders and cleavage exuded exactly the opposite sort of glamor. To sum it up, Inglis was fascinatingly attractive. She only wished she had a bigger mirror to fully enjoy the view in.

“It really is,” Pullum agreed, just as exhausted as Rafinha. “Her skin’s so clear, and her chest... I wish mine were like that.” No matter how tired she was, the gleam in her eyes was obvious.

“Why not take the chance to see how it feels? It’s so soft and supple.” Rafinha poked at Inglis.

“Knock it off, Rani...! Don’t just go around poking at people’s chests!” Inglis protested.

“I deserve it after working myself to the bone for this. You’re paying me back with your body.”

“Agh!”

“C’mon, Pullum,” Rafinha continued. “Go ahead and touch! It’s fine.”

“O-Okay, just to see what it feels like... Wow, this is amazing! She really is soft and supple.”

“Ugh... Isn’t that enough?” Inglis complained. “Come on, this is embarrassing.”

“How about you, Liselotte?” Rafinha asked. “You can touch all you want.”

The group was inside a tent on the Flygear Port’s deck. Inglis, Rafinha, Pullum, Leone, and Liselotte were using it as their sleeping arrangements. Lahti and Lewin, as well as the other knights of Alcard and the civilian survivors, each had their own tents. The deep, round hull and spacious deck of a Flygear Port were designed to allow a large number of people to rest safely in the air. It could operate as a mobile base for dozens of troops.

In any case, Liselotte cleared her throat in response to Rafinha’s invitation. “That’s rather immodest. I don’t approve.”

Liselotte was a lady of class—in more ways than one, Inglis thought. Though that social position also applied to the least modest among them: a certain Lady Bilford.

Thank goodness. That should change the course of the conversation.

Liselotte continued after a pause. “But if you insist... It is educational to study what one doesn’t have.”

“Even you, Liselotte?!” Inglis protested. Rafinha and Pullum were slender, and not particularly well endowed. Liselotte’s build was average. But it seemed she still harbored some curiosity.

“Then go riiight ahead! ♪” Rafinha announced. “C’mon, they’re jiggly!”

“Wow, they’re so heavy. Amazing.”

There was only one person Inglis could look to in this situation. “Save me, Leone!”

“Aha ha... Do your best...” Leone had taken shelter in the far corner of the tent to protect herself, defensively covering her chest with her arms. She knew that she was the next target.

“Leone! How cruel!”

“C’mon, I’ve got Rin to deal with over here!” Rin had set up camp in Leone’s cleavage, so in a sense Leone was at least holding her off. Otherwise, the tiny magicite beast would have joined in as well.

“C’mon, if you keep looking away, I’m going to squeeze them more,” Rafinha taunted.

“Eek! Stop touching them like that!” Inglis protested. “Isn’t that enough?! I need to get to the dragon!”

“Hmm, I guess we can stop. We’ve enjoyed Chris’s springiness plenty.” With Rafinha’s announcement, the three’s attacks ceased.

“Yes,” Pullum agreed. “It was incredible. I really am jealous.”

“I learned quite a bit,” Liselotte remarked.

“Phew, it’s finally over... Anyway, enough playing around. I’m going to where that dragon is now,” Inglis announced. “Rani, Pullum, you must be tired. You can rest.”

“No, I’ll go too,” Rafinha said. “We’re going to be eating tasty dragon meat, right? I don’t want to sleep through that!”

“I want to do anything I can to help too!” Pullum agreed. “If there’s anything I can do to help the people my brother took food from...!”

“Then let’s go together! That’ll be nice, right, Chris?!”

“Yes,” Inglis agreed. “There’s a favor I wanted from you two anyway...”

“Of course, we’ll help too,” Leone announced.

“Indeed we will. Let’s all go together,” Liselotte agreed.

Inglis and the others left their tent and boarded their Flygears, ready to descend to the ruins of Leclair where the ancient dragon’s tail protruded from the ground.

◆◇◆

Three Flygears took off from the deck of the Flygear Port. The Star Princess carried Inglis and Rafinha; the other two were part of the ship’s complement, carrying Leone and Liselotte, and Lahti and Pullum, respectively.

In truth, it would have been better for Lahti to stay behind on the Flygear Port, but he simply wouldn’t hear of it. Both a sense of responsibility as the nominal commander of the expedition and concern for Pullum had played a part in his participation.

“Why don’t we land some distance from the dragon and walk the rest? It might be dangerous if we approach him suddenly,” Inglis suggested. She brought the Star Princess to the ground a safe distance from the protruding tail.

“But why so far away, Chris?” Rafinha asked as they walked to the dragon’s tail.

“To be prepared if it suddenly leaps from the ground and attacks us?” Leone pondered.

Leone’s observation wasn’t wrong, but that wasn’t the only thing about which they needed to remain cautious—there was an entirely different thing one also needed to keep in mind when dealing with an ancient dragon.

“A dragon strong enough to be called an ancient dragon turns the very energy around itself into guardians—they’re called phantasms, or projections,” Inglis explained.

The power around a dragon was something different from mana or magic, and its effects were stronger than all-too-inefficient magic. The flames or blizzard that a dragon breathed forth required none of the chanting or gestures of magic, yet they possessed far more power. However, unlike magic which shared some common traits, dragons’ power varied greatly from one to the next. Their power was less a science and more individual traits.

“And you want to be on guard for those?” Leone asked.

“Yes. If we approach suddenly, the guardians might surround us and destroy our Flygears.” Inglis wouldn’t regret things coming to blows, but losing their Flygears in the process could cause some inconveniences.

“I’ve never heard that about dragons before,” Leone remarked. “You sure know a lot, Inglis.”

“I hadn’t heard such a thing either,” Liselotte agreed. “You must have read quite the rare book.”

“Is there really a book like that in Ymir’s archives?” Rafinha asked. “I don’t remember seeing one.”

“There have to be plenty of books you wouldn’t know, Rani,” Inglis replied. “You’re not much of a reader.”

“Oh, whatever! I may not have read them, but I played enough hide-and-seek in there that I’d at least remember the covers. Hmm...”

“Maybe you should try opening them?” Inglis responded.

In fact, there was no such book. Inglis’s knowledge came from her past life as King Inglis. Some rare books during that period had indeed documented dragons, and people had still known of them. But judging from Leone’s and Liselotte’s reactions, dragons had been completely forgotten in the modern world. The same was true of mana, and the knowledge and techniques of magic used to control it.

“You two are going back home next vacation at the academy, right?” Leone asked. “Can you bring that book with you and show it to me? I’m curious.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Liselotte agreed. “I’d like to see it as well.”

Their passion for learning was commendable, but Inglis would have preferred this in any other context. “Well, um...” Inglis began, but stopped herself as pale blue patches of mist blocked their path. “Ah, be careful. They’re coming.”

“Grrr...”

“Gwohhh!”

They loomed threateningly, taking the form of dragons’ heads. Each radiated a malevolence thick enough that even a well-trained knight might have lost his will to fight. When Inglis had fought an ancient dragon in a previous life, more than a few had thrown down their arms in terror.

“What are those?!” Rafinha gasped.

“Th-They’re not to be trifled with. Compared to a magicite beast...” Leone trailed off.

“Yes... This is far worse than facing a magicite beast. This intense malevolence, this hostility!” Liselotte said.

That trio usually seemed like a group of ordinary girls, but they were more than that. Not only were they well trained, they were future upper-class knights. They may have been startled by the sudden apparitions, but they weren’t shaken to the core. Their determination was reliable.

They were no Silva, who had a special-class Rune, or Yua, who was her own thing entirely, but they were still plenty powerful. If they’d been under Inglis’s command in her past life, she’d have expected fine work from them.

“More and more are appearing!” Pullum shouted.

Before Inglis’s eyes, the phantoms appeared and gathered, almost forming a wall.

“These are phantasms, physical manifestations of a dragon’s energy. They’re transparent, but they bite—and it’ll hurt, so be careful. They’re watching us now, but if we step within a certain area, they’ll attack,” Inglis explained.

“The pain itself would be the least of our problems!” Rafinha said.

Leone eyed them. “Right. With their strength...”

“Inglis made the correct call earlier,” Liselotte said. “If we had approached suddenly, we would have lost our Flygears and had nowhere to escape to.”

“You all wait here,” Inglis instructed. “I’ll approach them. If this outfit is effective, they won’t attack.”

In her previous life, she’d seen an ancient dragon’s phantasms avoid harming a priestess. If the two here didn’t lunge at Inglis, she could presume that she’d be able to communicate with the ancient dragon Fufailbane. She wanted that very much.

She tested the phantasms first. “Here I go.”

“You’re probably going to be disappointed if you don’t get to fight them, Chris,” Rafinha remarked.

“No, that would be fine. Besides, I could take a break to change so that they’d attack me.”

“Aha ha ha... What a shocker...”

“Wouldn’t it be great to have foes I could fight endlessly? Looks like I’ve stumbled upon something truly valuable. ♪”

“That sounds like the kind of longing that should be left to tasty food and cute clothes...” Rafinha sighed deeply.

“C’mon, c’mon! This kind of thing is really dangerous. Shouldn’t we deal with it?” Lahti complained in a serious manner, unlike Rafinha’s teasing of her cousin.

“Sure. So can I take it home with me?” Inglis asked.

“Fine, whatever. You do you.”

“Come on, Chris!” Rafinha protested, pulling on Inglis’s ears. “You can’t treat it like a pet! Whether it’s to the capital or Ymir, wherever you bring it, it’ll make a mess!”

“Owwww... Okay, okay! I’ll think of a way to keep that from happening! But even though it’d be a shame to kill him off, moving the ancient dragon himself somewhere else would definitely be for the best. Alcard’s probably so cold because he’s buried here.”

“Wait, what?! It can even change the climate?!” Lahti asked, shocked.

“Going by the amount of power that he has, it’s definitely possible. You’ll see when we move him. I’m pretty sure the temperature will get warmer.” Inglis had deliberately left matters unclear, but in her past life she had actually seen a region chill due to the influence of an ancient dragon. She was almost certain the same applied here.

“So our land being frozen and barren, making it hard on crops... That won’t be a problem?” Lahti asked.

“Will we finally have bountiful harvests, no longer struggling to come up with offerings for Highland? We’ll get plenty of powerful Artifacts, and even a hieral menace like Eris or Ripple who actually protects the country?” Pullum continued. They were both quite excited.

“Nothing like the magicite beast destroying Leclair will ever happen again...”

“It won’t happen. We won’t let it happen! At least we’ll be able to secure the means to ensure that!”

The town of Leclair was now nothing but a pit with an ancient dragon’s tail, and this was after a magicite beast had already laid waste to it. Had that not happened, the king of Alcard might not have changed his policies and needed to reinforce the country’s defenses against magicite beasts. Perhaps then he wouldn’t have needed to work with a Highland commander—Archlord Evel—to obtain more powerful Artifacts and a hieral menace. After all, he didn’t have the goods to offer in return.

Evel had been the one to suggest Alcard attack Karelia, Inglis’s country, when Venefic had made its move. His hand had been forced.

However, before the operation was completed, Evel visited the royal palace in Karelia personally, just to be killed by the Steelblood Front leader who cryptically wore a black mask.

After that, Tiffanyer arrived in Alcard as Evel’s successor to plunder the countryside and turn the ruins of Leclair into a prison. She activated the Floating Circle planted there, and she carried the entire town itself away to Highland.

Those were the events up to this point—but the initial trigger had been the powerful magicite beast destroying Leclair. To counter that, it was definitely necessary to enhance the country’s defenses. And there was no straightforward way to do so.

But what if the climate in Alcard changed, and the harvests became more prosperous? Then it would only be a matter of making a straightforward exchange with Highland, rather than joining in the war with Karelia. It would solve the root causes of Alcard’s problems.

“So then we have to!” Rafinha said. “Then Alcard won’t have to attack Karelia!”

“Agreed,” Leone said. “Rafinha’s right. It would be a fundamental solution to the problem.”

“A ray of hope!” Liselotte added.

Recent events might lead to a break in relations between Alcard and Highland’s Papal League, but the Triumvirate would be willing to make a deal—or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that Ambassador Theodore would be willing to make a deal. That unfortunately brought forth a concern for Inglis: that would make Rafinha even more fond of the man.

“Anyway, before that, we have matters to attend to.” Inglis clapped her fist into her palm and stepped toward the gathering phantasms.

“She really does want us to eat the dragon, doesn’t she?” Leone muttered.

“Not just us! It’s for everyone!” Rafinha said.

“But she wants to enjoy herself until she’s satisfied first, I guess?” Liselotte asked.

Inglis smiled at the others. “I suppose all of these reasons are correct.”

“Aha ha...” Rafinha laughed weakly. “Then it would be better to at least apologize first for once.”

“Yeah... You’re going to have a really hard time if you take them all on at once—or at least it should be hard.” Leone nodded.

“When you think about it calmly, what’s appropriate has become unclear,” Liselotte bemoaned.

“With that said, I’m off.” Inglis paced steadily toward the phantasms.

“Grrr...”

“Gwohhh!”

As she approached without concern, the phantasms bared their fangs menacingly. Their aggression was enough to make the air around them shudder. Inglis recognized the smell of an enjoyable battlefield to come. This was nothing more than an involuntary physiological phenomenon of the dragon, yet it was so forceful. Even though the dragon itself slumbered beneath the ground, Inglis felt the same strength from the phantasms as when she’d fought them in her previous life.

Inglis laughed. “I’m glad you’ve all been well.” Her face broke into a smile. She released the gravity-enhancing magic she normally kept on herself. The desire to simply rush into the midst of the phantasms and enjoy a good fistfight as a warm-up burned inside her—but in the meantime, she’d wait. She still needed to test whether the priestess’s habit would let her communicate with the ancient dragon. That was why she’d released the gravity magic.

“For now, let’s just have a little talk.” Inglis converted aether to mana and wrapped it around herself. More precisely, it permeated the priestess’s habit she wore. Its wavelength was very similar to that of the ice sword she used often, one of frost.

The habit of the priestess she’d seen in her past life had implemented strong mana into the clothing’s fibers. The surface was once able to create such things using rare materials. In contrast, her current outfit was made of nothing more than cloth.

Ever the fan of dressing up Inglis, Rafinha sometimes made her clothes or accessories. If Rafinha hadn’t made plans to become a knight, she said she would have liked to have become a seamstress and opened her own shop. Coincidentally, Rafinha had bought the bolts of fabric while shopping for their expedition simply because she’d liked the color.

But the outfit Rafinha had sewn could be more than just cloth if Inglis deliberately channeled mana into it. Her clothing began to glow faintly with mana.

“Grrr!”

“Raaah!”

“Ooo...”

The phantasms quieted, parting to open a path for Inglis.

“Oh?” she muttered.

The habit was having the intended effect. Even as she passed between them, they only watched from a distance.

“All right! It looks like we did it!” Rafinha announced happily.

“Our hard work paid off!” Pullum agreed.

“They’ll attack if we all go in, so please wait here while I make my approach alone,” Inglis said.

“Be careful, Chris.”

“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry.”

Leaving them with those words, Inglis pressed on toward the ancient dragon’s tail, which towered like a tremendous tree. The phantasms continued to spring into existence, increasing more and more in number, but they did not attack her.

The effect of the priestess’s habit was extraordinary. The movement of the phantasms was perfectly coordinated. None rushed forward to attack her. Silence hung in the air.

That was a bit boring, honestly. She’d hoped for at least a small fight before the ancient dragon. The phantasms weren’t about to accommodate that desire. Perhaps because they weren’t complete life-forms on their own, she couldn’t sense any individuality. Nonetheless, they were stronger than an average knight or magicite beast.

She was itching for combat—they were right there in front of her—but Inglis knew that she needed to prioritize communicating with the ancient dragon. She understood that, but the logic didn’t shake her desire to fight the phantasms. As foes she had faced in her previous life, they would serve as a perfect measure for how she’d developed, reborn as Inglis Eucus. Surrounded by them, she wanted to release the mana which had permeated her priestess’s habit so that they’d descend upon her.

She couldn’t stop herself from wanting it. It was like hunger pangs. “Ah, such a shame...”

“Grrr?”

“Raaah?”

“Gwoooh?”

The phantasms made the same noises as before but with a touch of bewilderment this time as they watched Inglis stare at them longingly.

Inglis muttered to herself, “I’ll just pretend they’re not there,” as she redirected her attention to the ground in front of her, trying not to see the phantasms as she advanced. The sight of them was too tempting.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—Inglis arrived unimpeded at the ancient dragon’s tail. It was the size of a gigantic tree, covered with sharp, spiky scales of an icy silver sheen and emitting pale clouds of frosty air. The air itself was freezing, and tiny glittering crystals floated around the area.

Inglis involuntarily shivered. It was cold enough that if she stayed too long, she might get hypothermia. After all, she was clad only in the thin habit of a priestess.

The blistering cold which stung her skin was proof that the ancient dragon Fufailbane still lived—as were the phantasms, but she was thankful that the dragon himself was still well. That meant there would be value in fighting him. A conversation had to be the first order of business, but when they had a chance to fight later, she could enjoy it knowing that his long sleep hadn’t put him in poor shape.

“But...”

One concern of hers still remained. He was an ancient dragon; there was no way she’d stepped so close to him without his noticing. How could he allow himself to be approached so casually, with no warning or call? Had he called out, and she had simply not heard it? That would be odd, considering the habit’s clear effect on the phantasms showed it should have been working.

There was no point in overthinking it. Inglis decided to call out to him. “O ancient dragon Fufailbane... Can you hear my voice?”

She waited a good ten seconds, but there was no response.

“Hmm?” Crooking her neck, Inglis moved even closer to the tail. This time, she touched it directly, further increasing the mana permeating her outfit. “Ancient dragon, can you hear me? If you can, please respond.”

Still, there was only silence.

“Huh? Hmm...” He was definitely alive. She could keenly sense his power, as mighty as ever. But as casually as she’d approached, he didn’t respond—didn’t call out. The habit should have allowed her to communicate with him, so what was going on?

“Are you asleep, by any chance?” To use a human analogy, he was in a doze, where his body was active but his consciousness hadn’t yet awakened. She wasn’t enough of an expert on the physiology of ancient dragons to know how long their slumber might last.

Perhaps he would wake soon, or maybe it was going to take years, or even decades. Of course, she couldn’t wait that long. She wanted to talk about the past and battle to the utmost of her potential—plus, she was hungry. In terms of securing food, it wasn’t just for the sake of her and her friends, but for that of the people of Alcard.

That left her with only one course of action.

“I apologize for my rudeness, but I’m going to have to beat you awake.”

Inglis turned to where she expected the ancient dragon’s face to be and bowed. Then she bent her legs into a crouch, swung her hips low, and with a big shout, she kicked with all her might.

Clanggg!

A dragon’s scales were harder than steel, and they rang loudly like metal as they received Inglis’s strike, but they weren’t even scratched, although they shifted slightly from the blow. Instead, the hem of her priestess’s habit which had brushed against the scales immediately began to freeze.

“Huh? Oh, whoops!” She didn’t want to ruin the priestess’s habit which she’d just had Rafinha make for her. She’d planned to bring it back in perfect condition to the knights’ academy and keep it as a treasure. Of course she treasured it; this granddaughter-like figure had made it especially for her. She wanted to wear it occasionally when she was alone and enjoy her reflection in the mirror.

Inglis stepped back to gain some distance from the tail. She watched for any movement—but the dragon was quiet, as if she’d done nothing.

She chuckled. “I figured that wouldn’t be enough.” Even though she’d released the gravity-enhancing magic she kept on herself to train, the kick had merely been a standard strike, not one powered by aether. Between the robustness of Fufailbane’s scales and the great mass involved, her strike may as well have been a weak breeze against him.

She hadn’t captured his attention yet, but that was fine. That was the ancient dragon Fufailbane. Even in her previous life, he had been strong enough that she hadn’t been able to defeat him alone.

“In that case...” Time to use Aether Shell! “One more time!”

Blammmmmm!

The result was an impact many times more intense than the previous. A loud reverberation filled the air. The ancient dragon’s tail bent back and whipped into the ground, leaving a mark. That was how much stronger Inglis was with that technique. However, the tail of the ancient dragon returned to its former position as if nothing had happened, and there was no sign that she had harmed him. There was maybe a small dent she could see if she squinted, but as she watched, even that seemed to heal. The dragon’s strength, flexibility, and resilience were fearsome.

“Aha ha... Ha ha ha ha...” Without realizing it, Inglis began to laugh. This would be a wonderful way to push her limits. Perhaps the best she’d ever had in her life as Inglis Eucus.

So what should I do next...?

“Graaaa!”

“Gwoooo!”

“Groooowr!”

“Hm?!”

While the ancient dragon himself still didn’t respond, the phantasms around her did, unable to ignore her actions any longer. More than ten attacked her at once. Well, she had wanted a fight.

“Thank you! I appreciate it!” Inglis released Aether Shell and returned to her unenhanced form. Simply crushing her foes would be a waste. She wished to come out of every fight having grown from it—so deciding not to use Aether Shell was a foregone conclusion.

The phantasms spread out all around her, their large jaws gnashing for her flesh.

The three coming from my right are closest! “Haaaah!” Inglis twisted in that direction and leaped straight toward them, punching with her right fist at the lead phantasm.

Thud!

The strike, carrying the momentum of her leap, made the phantasm burst into nothingness.

Left punch for the second!

Thud!

It burst as well, and then the third was upon her. After her left punch, she shifted her hips down, keeping her body low. “How adorable! They pop from my fists!”

She rose, swinging as if she were scooping something up. The third, hit directly, also burst. Inglis flew into the air, moving to attack and evade at the same time.

“Groarrrrr!”

The snapping phantasms from the other directions bit through where she’d been, gouging at the ground. Each had a bite so forceful that it could easily snap through a human body. Because they could be damaged by physical blows, they were more fragile than a magicite beast, but their offensive power surpassed that of magicite beasts of similar size.

“But more importantly...”

Clink!

As Inglis muttered to herself, she transformed aether into mana in her hand, manifesting a magical blade of ice. A bit of practice with a sword from time to time wasn’t a bad thing. Using the momentum of her fall, she aimed a flurry of thrusts at the clump of phantasms that had formed.

Slash, slash, slash, slash!

The hail of thrusts rained down on the attacking phantasms, wiping them out. Roars immediately rang out as more appeared from somewhere, surrounding Inglis again.

“No matter how many I defeat, more spring up! It’s wonderful!”

This was beyond the ability of magicite beasts. If the Prism Flow wasn’t falling, magicite beasts weren’t created. However, phantasms weren’t limited by such natural phenomena. As long as the ancient dragon survived, she could fight them whenever she wanted. There couldn’t have been a more convenient foe.

If she could have it her way, she’d prefer that they were a little stronger individually, but if she crammed several into one place and tried to compress them, they might be able to merge. There was room to experiment.

Nonetheless, they were excellent training partners for Inglis. She was so happy that her expression loosened into a grin without her noticing. “Come on, now, play with me a little more!” Inglis rushed forward and took a running leap, delivering a flying kick to a phantasm high in the air. “Haaaah!”

Thud!

The phantasm burst. Using the recoil, she flew higher. The movement of the phantasms, which constantly replenished their numbers as they tried to surround her, delivered constant footholds in the air for Inglis. She jump-kicked from one to the other, using the recoil to soar even higher.

Thud! Thud, thud, thud! Thud!

Finally, at the apex of her combined leaps, she did a double somersault in the air and landed.

“I’m back!” She touched down just outside of the area of the phantasms—meaning directly in front of Rafinha and the others.

“W-Welcome back... You seem like you had fun. What are we going to do with you, Chris?” Rafinha sighed.

“That was incredible, Inglis!” Pullum remarked. “I was watching you closely, but you were so fast, I lost track!”

“I shouldn’t just stand here admiring it—but it was an excellent display of your prowess,” Liselotte said.

“Yes, but the more I watch, the more I realize I’ll never be able to match Inglis...” Leone bemoaned.

“If you all practice every day, you’ll be able to! The phantasms are great. No matter how many you take down they keep coming, and they’re worthwhile foes. They’re the best training partners!”

Inglis’s excited ravings didn’t please Rafinha, though. “Hey, wait! Hold it right there, Chris. It’s nice that you’re having a great time, but wasn’t there something else you were supposed to do? Did you hear the dragon? I saw you kick its tail, but...”

“Oh, right, that. I think it’s still asleep... I kicked it to try and wake it up, but it didn’t seem to work. And then the phantasms responded—”

“And you had fun fighting them?”

“Yeah. Foes you can fight forever are great!” Inglis gave a vigorous nod, her eyes gleaming.

“Well, that’s definitely the sort of thing you’re into...but nothing else happened?”

“Well... I found out that the ancient dragon’s definitely sleeping, so there’s something I’d like to ask you to help me with...” That was why she’d come back while kicking the phantasms.

“Huh? What are you planning, Chris?”

“Our next move, of course.”

“Next move?”

“Yeah. Getting food.” Inglis grinned.

“That’s what I was waiting for! So, what do we do?” Rafinha’s eyes sparkled.