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Star-Embracing Swordmaster Chapter 233: Dragons with Collars (2)

Chapter 233: Dragons with Collars (2)

It‌‌⁠ was a dirty​ and gloomy alley.⁠‌

An​‍‌ alley where every⁠‌ step forward trapped​⁠ your toes in⁠‍​ the garbage.

However,‍ there was an​‌⁠ urgency in the‍ eyes of those⁠‌ running through the⁠ alley that couldn’t‍​‍ be hidden.

“Silence!​‍‍ They’re close!”

In‌‍​ response to the⁠ harsh warnings of‍‍ the men, suppressed​​‌ groans began to‌ emerge from the‌‍ mouths of the‌‌‌ people once again.​‌‌

Old‌ people, women, and‍​ even children.

They‍‍ had to abandon⁠ the familiar alley⁠ once again, but​⁠ in the face‍‍ of the Dragonslayer‍​ Knights, even the‌‌‌ slightest hesitation was‌ a luxury.

“So,​‍ here you were.”‌⁠​

However,‌ despite their best‍ efforts, there was​⁠ a man blocking​‍ the alley.

The⁠​⁠ man, wearing armor‌​‍ engraved with the‌‍​ Dragulia emblem, nodded⁠‍ as he observed⁠​​ the refugees of⁠‍ the Ruga tribe‍‌ in front of⁠‍​ him.

“They‌​ look like cats,‌ but they act​​⁠ like rats.”

Behind⁠​‌ the man who‍ laughed, smoke was⁠‍‌ just beginning to‍‍‌ rise.

The⁠​‍ smoke that contained⁠​ the acrid smell​⁠‌ of cigarettes gradually‍ covered the alleys,‌ but it seemed​⁠ that it couldn’t​ block the sight⁠​‌ of the knight⁠​⁠ who had just‍ appeared.

“Anyway,‌​ beastmen, if left⁠ alone, breed like⁠ rabbits.”

The⁠ children of the‌ Ruga tribe stood‍ still, paralyzed by⁠⁠ the knight’s cold⁠ gaze, which did‍​ not see them‌⁠ as human.

“…Hmm?”⁠​

The‌⁠ knight burst into⁠‌ laughter upon seeing‍​ the men of⁠ the Ruga tribe‌‍⁠ draw their swords,‍​‍ as if they‍⁠ intended to stop‍ him.

However,⁠‌ the knight of⁠‌‍ the Dragonslayer Knights‍​ couldn’t help but‍ laugh at their‍⁠ pitiful appearance.

“Who⁠‍​ are you?”

Although‍⁠​ he hadn’t felt⁠‍ any presence until⁠ a moment ago,‌​ he now felt‍ eyes fixed on​‌​ his back.

And‌‌‍ that gaze grew‌ more intense along⁠⁠ with the sound​‌‍ of footsteps.

“What‌⁠ a lack of‍⁠ manners.”

“…!”‌​

It‌‍‌ was a man⁠​ with red hair.‌⁠‌

What‍​‌ color is the⁠‌‍ man who is⁠​ seen through the⁠ rising smoke?

Even​ in the misty⁠‌ landscape, he exuded‍⁠‍ a strong presence,​ and he was​​ a man everyone‍‍ knew well.

“The⁠​‍ basic thing is‌‍ to give your⁠​​ own name before‍ asking for others’.”​‌‌

Seeing‌‌⁠ a familiar face⁠‍ in such an‍ unexpected place, the‍ knight couldn’t help‍‌ but look confused.‍‍‍

After​‍ all, as far‍⁠ as he knew,‌ Radu Dragulia should‌ be a vitality-deprived⁠‍ old man, on‍‌‌ the brink of⁠‌‌ death.

“Radu⁠‍ Dragulia?”

“Seeing⁠⁠‍ that you recognize⁠⁠ me, I suppose​ you belong to​‌ the Dragonslayer Knights.”⁠‍

Radu‍‍⁠ moved, stepping through‌⁠‍ the smoke that⁠‍‌ emerged from the‌ alley.

Towards​ the knight who⁠ didn’t know what​​ to do in​​‌ front of him.⁠

For​‍​ some reason, there​ wasn’t the slightest‌​‍ sign of weakness‌​​ in Radu’s appearance​​‌ as he approached​‌​ closer and closer.‌‍‌

“But​ if you had‌​ recognized me, you​​ should have fled​ a long time‌ ago.”

Crack-!‍‌

“Ack!”⁠

In‍ fact, it was⁠‍ much crueler than‌⁠‌ when I saw​ him before.

The​⁠​ knight was very​ nervous from the‌ pressure, but the⁠‌‌ strange sensation that⁠ penetrated his heart​ was literally in‍‌⁠ the blink of‍ an eye.

It‌​‌ was a speed​​‍ that the Radu‍​​ he knew could⁠ never have reached,‍‍​ but before he⁠⁠ realized it, his‍​‍ blue eyes were‍⁠ right in front‌⁠ of him.

“Gruu…”​‍

“I⁠ told you, I am Radu Dragulia.”‌

Radu’s‍‌⁠ expression was pale‌⁠​ as he laughed‌​⁠ heartily as if‌​ mocking his prey.‌‌

However,‌ the protruding fangs⁠​‌ remained red, as⁠ if they had‌‍ just swallowed blood.‍‍‍

“Let’s‌‍ see.”

“Keeuuuuk!”‍

Radu‌ lifted the sword‍ that had pierced⁠ the knight high.⁠​

The‍ movements of the‌⁠ man who struggled‌​⁠ without even being​‌ able to breathe‍ were pathetic, but‍⁠‌ Radu only smiled‍⁠‍ and calmly admired‌ the flowing blood.‍⁠

“…The‌⁠‌ blood of others⁠​ no longer affects‍‌ me much.”

With⁠‌‍ his eyes shining⁠‍ more intensely than‌​‍ ever.

Swoosh-!‌⁠‍

Radu⁠​ split the knight‍​ in half with‌‌ a sad look⁠ in his eyes‌‍​ and returned to​ the alley full‍​​ of pale smoke​​‍ as if nothing⁠ had happened.

Radu’s⁠ cruel appearance, treating​ violence with greater‍⁠⁠ violence, was truly‌​‌ the image of‌​ the dragon demanded⁠ by Dragulia.

***‌⁠

“…”⁠‍

Mirshea⁠​ silently observed the​‌ dead Ruga tribesman.‌

To‌ be precise, he​ was looking at​ the strange pattern‍​ that the man⁠​‌ had been trying​⁠‌ to draw on‍‍ the wall until​⁠ the end.

“It’s⁠⁠⁠ magic.”

Even‍⁠‌ on his deathbed,​ the Ruga tribesman‍​‌ hadn’t let go​ of the white​⁠‌ chalk with which‌‍‌ he was drawing.​‍‍

As‍ soon as he⁠ drew the pattern⁠⁠​ on the wall,‌‌ pale smoke began​⁠ to emerge from‌‍ the alley where⁠‌‍ Mirshea was.

Mirshea⁠⁠​ couldn’t help but‍ frown at the‍⁠⁠ smoke, which was​‌ as acrid as⁠ the smoke produced​‌⁠ by burning a cigarette.

“…And​ quite refined magic.”​

Mirshea‍​​ shook his head‍‌​ and stuck out⁠‌⁠ his tongue at​‌⁠ the changing scenery.‌

The⁠​ sight of the⁠ alley writhing incessantly‍ even in this‌ brief moment of‌ blinking.

Every​ time someone extinguished⁠ a cigarette in‌ the room, or⁠ exhaled the smoke​​ that had filled‌ their lungs, the‌​ landscape in front​​ of him faded.⁠‌‍

“Gaaah!”‍

“Bastard!‌⁠ Who are you?”​​

The‍⁠ voices coming from‍ everywhere were familiar​‌ to him.

The‍⁠⁠ echo of those​‍​ cries that seemed‍‌ to come right​​‍ next to him,‌​ but whose distance⁠⁠ he couldn’t guess,​‌‍ stimulated Mirshea’s nerves⁠ and soon began⁠ to disappear.

“He⁠​‍ has grown considerably.‍​⁠ It’s impressive.”

Mirshea,‌⁠ who was quietly⁠ assessing the situation,​ nodded as if‍‍ guessing who had⁠⁠‍ stopped the cries.⁠‌

The​‍​ mystery of the‍ Ruga family was‍ certainly great, but⁠​⁠ it wasn’t enough​⁠‌ to distinguish between⁠⁠‌ the knights under⁠ his direct command.‍

In​‌⁠ this miserable alley,‌ he was the‌​⁠ only swordsman wielding‌⁠ a sword for​⁠‌ the Ruga family.‍

“I⁠‌‌ knew it was‌ you.”

As⁠ if to confirm​⁠​ his suspicions, a figure began to‌⁠‍ appear in the⁠‌‌ distance, moving through‍ the mist.

The⁠ man who emerged‍⁠‌ from the fog​​​ had blond hair⁠‍ and blue eyes,‍​ just like Mirshea.⁠

“How​​‌ many have you⁠‍ killed?”

“Around​⁠⁠ six or so.”‍‍‍

Although‌⁠​ he had just⁠​‌ mentioned killing his​​ own subordinates, Mirshea⁠​ only showed satisfaction.‌​

As⁠‌‌ if saying that⁠ anyone who shared‍⁠⁠ his blood should‌⁠‍ be able to​‍‌ face the most‌‍⁠ elite knights of​ the Empire.

“What‌​‌ will you do⁠​‌ with the others?”‌​‍

“Radu​⁠‍ will handle them.”​⁠

Vlad,⁠‍ who casually wiped⁠⁠⁠ away the drops⁠‌‌ of blood still⁠⁠‌ forming on his‍⁠ sword, looked at‌⁠‍ Mirshea and said.⁠

“I‍‍ gave him some‌ blood. It turns‌ out he’s quite⁠⁠​ useful.”

“…Hah.”​

Mirshea​‍‍ let out a brief incredulous sigh⁠ at Vlad’s words⁠​ about sharing his‍‌⁠ blood with Radu.​

“I’m​ sure you’re now‌​‍ aware that you’re‌ a dragon, right?”‌‌

The​ perfection transmitted through‍⁠ blood was an⁠‌ innate obsession for⁠‍​ all dragons.

Since‌ they were born⁠ to seek perfection‍⁠ in the first‌⁠ place, it was‌⁠​ natural for them​⁠‌ not to share‌ their potential.

However,‌‍ Vlad’s response was‍‍ not what Mirshea‍‌ expected.

“I‍‌ don’t want to⁠ live sucking the‌‌ blood of others.”⁠

Crunch-​‍

The‌⁠‍ ground began to​⁠‌ crack around Vlad’s‍‌ firmly planted foot.‌​

At‍​⁠ the same time,​‍⁠ a golden line‍​‍ flowed from Vlad’s⁠ closed left eye.​​⁠

The‌​ line that extended​ like paint still​‍ remained by Vlad’s‌‌ side without falling​ to the ground.​

“I’m⁠ not going to‌​ live like you.”‍

Vlad‍​ was speaking above⁠ the clearing filled​ with mist.

He​⁠‌ wouldn’t live as⁠⁠​ his inherited blood⁠ dictated.

Vlad‌​‍ was now preparing‍⁠⁠ for a single‌‍ strike, as if‍‍ to cut the‍​ leash they had​⁠ placed on him​‍‌ in the name‍‍‌ of instinct.

***‍​

¡BOOM!⁠‍‍

A massive sound that‍​ no one could‌‍​ have predicted echoed​ throughout the city⁠​ of Namarka.

This‌‍‍ sound, which even‌​ the painstakingly created⁠ barrier couldn’t contain,‌‌ was so loud⁠⁠ that everyone in⁠‍⁠ the city could‍ hear it.

“…This‌ is unexpected.”

The‍‍ Great Mother of⁠‍ the Ruga tribe,​ who was performing‍‌ a ritual in⁠​⁠ her empty room,⁠‍​ looked in surprise⁠ at the broken⁠ pipe in her⁠⁠‌ hands.

Despite‌⁠ being a tool​‍‍ used by the‌ Mothers of the‍​‌ Ruga family for​ generations, it couldn’t‍‍​ withstand the impact‍ of that single​ blow.

“So,​ it’s the most⁠‍​ perfect dragon.”

And‌‍ also the most​‍​ noble knight.

Even⁠​​ one of those‌⁠ titles alone would⁠⁠ be something that⁠ would amaze the‍⁠‌ world, but Vlad⁠⁠ had both. The‌ Great Mother was⁠⁠ so overwhelmed by​ his potential that⁠⁠‍ she could barely⁠⁠ stay conscious.

Kaaaaang-!​⁠

“What​ will it be‍​ this time?”

It’s⁠‍ called potential because‍ it can become‍ anything.

And‌ the culmination of‍ that possibility was⁠‌​ the most perfect⁠ dragon.

However,​ the most perfect‍‍ dragon of the‍⁠‌ previous era had‍⁠⁠ suppressed all possibilities‌⁠ in his quest‌ to fly alone,​⁠‌ leaving scars on​ numerous races, including‍‍⁠ the beastmen, from​​⁠ which they had‌ yet to recover.‌⁠⁠

“I‌ hope your decision​ is the right​‍‍ one, noble knight.”⁠

With‌‌ those words, the​ Great Mother of‌ the Ruga tribe,‍ trembling, cleaned the⁠⁠‌ ashes from her⁠​ pipe with shaky⁠‌ hands.

Though​ she tried to⁠ hide it, she​​ couldn’t deny that‍⁠ Vlad’s influence had⁠ already grown enough​‌‍ to be perceived‍‍​ even by the⁠‍‌ oldest dragon.

***‌

BOOM!‍ BOOM! BOOM!

The‌ sound of buildings‌ collapsing rumbled throughout‍‌⁠ Namarka.

Screams​⁠​ came from the‌‌​ disorderly alleys of‌‍ the city, where​‍​ there was no​‌​ order at all.‌⁠

“You’ve​‍ grown a lot!”⁠⁠

Though‍ Mirshea praised his​​​ opponent, his face‌‍ showed that his‌ usual calm had‌⁠ vanished.

This‌ was because Vlad’s⁠⁠ blow had been​‌ too fast to‌⁠‍ dodge and too‌ strong to deflect,⁠‌​ forcing Mirshea to​⁠ take it head-on.⁠

“Now​ you no longer‌‌ need Rutiger!”

In‍ Bastopol, the city‌ of Lord Iron,⁠​​ Vlad had been‌​​ under Mirshea’s command.​

Only⁠ by working with‌ Rutiger could he⁠‍‍ challenge Mirshea, but‍ now Vlad seemed​‍​ to have reached‍​ a completely different​ level from back⁠⁠⁠ then.

BOOM!​‍‌

Due​ to Vlad’s fierce⁠‍‍ sword, Mirshea was​‌ once again pushed‍ back, destroying buildings.⁠⁠

However,​‍ even in the‍ thick stone dust‌ created by the​​‌ collapsing buildings, the‌⁠‍ solid golden line‌‍​ that Vlad formed‌‌‌ was clear and‌‍ attracted Mirshea’s attention⁠ like a halo‍ of light hanging‍​⁠ on the horizon.⁠​⁠

“Why‍ do you talk‍⁠ so much during​‍ a fight?”

“Because​‍‍ I’m proud of⁠‌ you.”

“What⁠⁠​ nonsense.”

Though​⁠ the golden glow‍‍‍ tried to emerge‍‌ in Vlad’s world,⁠ today it seemed​ shrouded in mist,​​​ as if something‌​⁠ was holding it​⁠ back.

“Didn’t​ you create me‌ to be devoured?”‍⁠

Though‌⁠ he tried to‌ hide it, Vlad’s​‌ voice revealed a deep resentment toward‍‌ his father, Lord‍⁠ Dragon.

“Hearing⁠​‌ the truth about‌​ my origin from‌‍⁠ others was like⁠‍ swallowing a bitter‍ pill.”

The​ swords that clashed​​ began to grow‌​ as heavy as​ the anger Vlad‌ harbored.

Mirshea⁠​‌ had no choice⁠‍ but to remain​‍ silent as the‍⁠⁠ balance of power‍⁠⁠ began to shift.‌⁠

“…I‍⁠​ only pity my‍ mother, for giving⁠ birth to me⁠ for nothing.”

Born⁠ as the son​‍‌ of a prostitute,​‍⁠ Vlad had never‍ expected anything from‍‌‌ his father.

But‍ he had thought​ that, if he​​ ever found him,​⁠ they might share‌ a drink.

However,‍⁠ the truth he‌ found through Radu‌ completely shattered even‌ a glimmer of⁠​ the expectations Vlad​⁠ had until now.⁠‍

“I‍⁠ hate the Dragulia⁠‌ family. I want⁠‍​ to kill them⁠⁠ all.”

Vlad,⁠‍ the dragon seed‌​‍ in the north.​

The‍‌​ only reason a person like me‍‌​ was born was‌‍ to be devoured⁠‌‌ by someone else.‌‌

Buzzing,​ Buzzing-

The​‍​ sword was weeping.‍‌

A dragon-slaying sword that​‌ understood its master’s‌‍⁠ anger and sadness.‍

And⁠ it shouted at‍⁠ the golden hair​⁠ and blue eyes:⁠​ “I wasn’t born⁠ to live like‌​‌ this.”

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