Chapter 100 – Heroes and Their Qualifications (14)

Heroes and Their Qualifications (14)

In the northern part of the Dragon Kingdom, the same daily life always continued in a quiet village.

Life was a struggle, barely sustained by gathering and hunting. The settlers, who had been pushed into the frontier as if driven out against their will, faced a relentless struggle every day.

It had been 20 years since supplies stopped coming from the Dragon Lord. The initial stockpile of food had been exhausted a decade ago. In dire straits where they had to resort to eating bark and roots, their choice was gathering. However, the tough plants native to the barren land were few, and even fewer were edible raw.

Agriculture was impossible from the start.
The land suitable for farming was traversed by earth dragons, and where there were no earth dragons, the variety of plants that could grow was limited. Moreover, it took decades for trees that bore fruit to grow enough to yield.

Selling wyvern carcasses could bring in decent food supplies, but each time they went wyvern hunting, the number of settlers who died had a direct impact on the management of the village. Wyvern hunting was as difficult as plucking stars from the sky unless they killed a decrepit specimen or found the body of one that had died in a territorial dispute.

There were a few young adventurers who went wyvern hunting for fame… but most of their stories did not end well.

If edible fruits had not grown sufficiently, they would have already perished.

The half-dragons, living a life akin to being banished as settlers.

Even for them, whose days were a continuous struggle, there was a place to rest.

The tavern.

Logically, it was impossible to make alcohol from fruits that were scarce even for eating… but their desire to drink made it a trivial issue.

The harder life became, the sweeter alcohol seemed to be.
Drinking was the only thing that could soothe their meager daily lives.

However, for a place with such a reputation, the inside of the tavern was quiet.

The northern part of the Dragon Kingdom had a small population, so the tavern was not overflowing with customers. Moreover, settlers were reluctant to leave their own villages, so there was no reason to go to another tavern. Even considering these factors, the tavern was quieter than usual.

Although not as much as elves, the dragonkin also enjoyed alcohol. Dragons, who live lives nearly as long as eternity, even longer than the long-lived elves who lament their boring lives. What would become of them if they spent those lengthy years without any proper entertainment?
Thus, the dragonkin had a close relationship with alcohol.
Collecting treasures, building nests, hunting—alcohol became a new stimulus in their long-tired daily routine.

Of course, for the dragonkin to get properly drunk, they needed something several times stronger than the potent elixirs of the elves, something nearly equivalent to pure alcohol. But even setting aside such trivialities, alcohol had become an essential element for the dragonkin, who lived eternal lives.

However, the situation for the half-dragons was different.
Their blood was diluted.
Half-dragons, inheriting more human blood than dragon’s, did not possess the same lifespan as pure dragonkin. At best, they might live as long as elves.

Half-dragons did not live according to their lifespan. They had to manage dragon wings and tails with their inherently human bodies, without polymorphing. To exert dragon strength with the fragile human body required an immense burden. Even without directly using dragon power, just having wings and a tail meant the heart was overworked. A heart mixed with human blood, unlike the pure heart of a dragon, was consumed violently like a waterwheel under a waterfall. Thus, most half-dragons could only have a lifespan similar to humans.

That’s why in the Dragon Kingdom, half-dragons were derogatorily called:

Humans mimicking dragons.

Degenerate hybrids. Mortals who fade quickly. Creatures who dare to call themselves dragons without knowing the pain of immortality, claiming to be of the same species as themselves. Would the proud and haughty dragonkin not react to that?

And so, the half-dragons had been disregarded for centuries.

Already facing a grim end, the half-dragons discriminated against by dragons found some solace in the small taverns that opened. The alcohol for half-dragons were brewed from the dregs left over by the dragonkin.

And the majority of the settlers in the northern part of the Dragon Kingdom were half-dragons.
Was it tradition, or was it because their lives were so harsh that the settlers had no choice but to frequent the taverns?

Yet the village tavern was unusually quiet.

This was despite the recent improvement in the village’s circumstances.
A traveler, a half-dragon woman who slaughtered wyverns with her own body, had appeared, and since then, the village had seen unprecedented prosperity. There should have been plenty of settlers who could afford to take a break and enjoy themselves. So why were the tavern tables so empty?

Perhaps they were trying not to rely on the traveler. If she were to leave, such an atmosphere might not return. So they continue as always, gathering fruits and hunting small beasts. That was the scene of the village.

There were three figures sitting in the tavern, drinking.

Two men wrapped in bandages and a woman leaning against the window with her hood pulled up.

The bandaged men were laughing and chatting about something amusing. How long would this atmosphere last, what phase would the village face next, when could we live normally again, and what was that traveler doing now, where was she?

It was during such a conversation.

The woman seemed indifferent as she let the banter wash over her, tilting her glass of alcohol.

It was then that a topic caught her attention.

There were rumors of a suspicious person appearing in the outskirts of the village—a strange combination of a human male and a dragonkin.

It was an unusual rumor.

A human male, and one with many scars on his face at that.
Who would be a human male that would bother coming to the desolate north where there was nothing to see or enjoy?

Could he be a villain?
In such a place with little human traffic, it would be difficult to find him if he started some sort of criminal organization, and if not that, he could simply be a madman.
If he’s a madman, he should be killed immediately. You never know when he might cause trouble, and no one would blame you for killing him.
If he’s a villain trying to start a criminal organization, you give him a reprieve, let the organization grow, and then cut him down when his infamy spreads. That way, your own reputation would spread far and wide.

At that moment, a man’s face popped into the woman’s mind—Bella. A man with a face full of scars. As far as she knew, there was only one such person. He wasn’t particularly memorable, and having many scars was too vague a description, but still, the face of the troublesome man came to mind.

The man who was always with the underwhelming hero, Flan.

It was his face.

“…Surely not.”

Bella shook her head vigorously.

There’s no way Flan would be traveling with a dragon.
In the first place, that guy has no business or reason to enter the Dragon Kingdom.
It must be a case of mistaken identity.
Besides, rumors are not something to be trusted blindly.

After shaking the strange rumor from her mind, she occasionally listened to the tales of her own bravery that drifted in, using them as snacks to accompany her drink.

That day was just another ordinary day, no different from any other.

*

Bella’s days were always the same.

She would wake up in a secluded part of the village. After a quick tidy-up, she would follow the instructions of a figure from her dreams to a specific location.
The destination was always swarming with wyverns.
Bella could kill wyverns, but even she couldn’t handle dozens at once. However, the place the dream woman told her about always had just enough wyverns for her to manage without trouble.

Doubts about the woman in her dreams would arise, but they would subside by the time she finished hunting all the wyverns.
When the hunt was nearly over, she would gather the wyvern corpses together, return to the village to report the extermination, and then spend time at the tavern until midnight before finding a secluded place to sleep.

Bella didn’t like being ordered around by anyone.
However, whenever she acted according to the dream woman’s words, things went unusually well.

Following her words always made it seem like she could become a hero.

That day was no different.

The woman in her dreams appeared as always, hinting at where she should head next. She added that there was a girl in danger, and it was fine to take her time getting there.

It was an unusual thing to say.

This was the first time she heard about what might happen at her destination.

Why would she tell her to be late when someone was in danger? She could have questioned it, but to Bella, that wasn’t important.
If she trusted the words from her dreams, she could become a hero.
That’s what Bella believed.

Maybe that’s why she didn’t notice the slight curl at the corner of the woman’s lips.

Upon waking, Bella prepared for departure.
She polished her sword and checked her gear.

There were no issues.

Following the dream woman’s advice, Bella left the village a bit late, around noon.

When she leisurely arrived at her destination, the first thing she saw was a girl sitting on the ground, paralyzed with fear. Scattered around the girl were fruits, suggesting she had been gathering them when she was attacked.

‘This place is perfect for a wyvern attack.’

There was no cover around.
There was a forest in the distance, but it would have been impossible to run there while being attacked by wyverns.

‘How does she always know about places like this…’

Her contemplation was brief.
Bella drew her sword.

And she leaped towards the descending wyvern.

*

The wyvern hunt was no different than usual.
The numbers were few to begin with.
With so few, I couldn’t gain much fame…

Atop the wyvern’s corpse, Bella thought. This little won’t earn her much renown. Perhaps the girl would express her gratitude and share tales of her bravery, but that wouldn’t be enough.

Could her tales of bravery spread as far as outside the Dragon Kingdom?

After all, the half-dragons living here rarely ventured beyond the North. If things continued this way, would she become a hero or just a guardian of the North?

It was then that she felt it.

A gaze from somewhere.
Not the girl’s, but something foreign.
And not just one, but two.

Turning her head towards the sensation, Bella saw two strangers. One appeared to be a human male. The other… probably dragonkin.

‘Well, the more witnesses, the better.’

Having many to tell your tale is a good thing.
Especially if they’re from afar, they could spread her story even further.

She had found someone to carry her tales of bravery to the outside world.

With just that thought, Bella’s expression brightened a bit. Then, with an excited voice, she addressed the strangers.

“…Who are you?”

But no answer came.

Why was there no response?
Were they so shocked that they fainted?

Having slaughtered the wyvern so fiercely, it was no surprise she was met with caution. The woman who appeared to be of the dragonkin looked like she might attack at any moment.

Well, it couldn’t be helped.

She would try speaking to them again once they had calmed down a bit. With that resolve, Bella took a closer look at the man’s face.

His face was full of scars.
Somehow familiar.
Black hair and an exotic appearance that was uncomfortable to look at, an atmosphere so foreign. A detestable face, reminiscent of the hero she loathed.

‘…Surely not, it can’t be.’

Bella wiped her eyes and looked at the man again.

Indeed, it was the same face.

It was Flan.