George's forehead was almost pressed against the ground, his shoulders trembling slightly, looking more like he was suppressing long-repressed excitement.
Even Leopold was thoroughly baffled by this. He tilted his head, glancing at Isabella beside him.
The white dragon tilted her head as well, her icy-blue eyes filled with the exact same confusion.
“...Leo, did he lose his mind from fear?”
“Uh, I have no idea!” Leopold looked conflicted, but either way, being able to kidnap... cough, invite this knight away without any effort was certainly a good thing!
“George, this is treason!” The demon officer's face turned a deep shade of purple as he suddenly drew the blade at his waist.
George didn't budge, simply replying calmly, “I haven't betrayed anyone, because I was never loyal to the Demon Race to begin with.”
“You... you!”
George stood up, pulled his greatsword out of the crack in the stone tiles, hoisted it onto his shoulder, and looked back at the demon officer.
“I say, do you even understand at all?”
“Understand what?”
“Dragons! Those are legendary dragons!” George shouted in excitement.
“Is... is there a problem with that?”
“I read in books that the dragon clan is the overlord of the skies!” George looked even more thrilled.
“And?”
“What am I? I'm a knight!” George finally couldn't hold back his excitement. “A knight and a dragon—how cool does that sound? That's the stuff of legends!”
George hefted his greatsword on his shoulder, a near-fanatical look on his face.
“Slay the demon king, save the world! I can become a legendary hero!”
“A hero! A hero welcomed by flowers and glory!”
“How wonderful...”
Just what kind of books have you been reading? Leopold thought, lines of frustration virtually appearing on his face as he momentarily questioned George's IQ.
Isabella had seemingly never witnessed such a reaction before and looked rather intrigued.
“To become a hero, to welcome glory...” George continued to mutter to himself.
“Old Priest! What kind of books do you usually let him read?” the demon commander demanded, suppressing his rage.
The old priest, still clutching a half-opened book in his hands, said slowly:
“Just the books in the cathedral...”
“Those books are so boring, I'd never read them,” George said dismissively. “The books I read are titles like 《Silver-Winged Knight》 and 《The Hero Who Saved the World》!”
“Serving a cathedral like this is honestly so frustrating.”
“Old Priest, if you don't know how to discipline your followers, I can do it for you!” the commander finally snapped, losing his patience.
The old priest tucked the book into his robes and said slowly, “The cathedral's books are meant to enlighten people's hearts. How was I to know he would turn out like this after reading them?”
George didn't care in the slightest. Still carrying his greatsword, his eyes sparkled as he stared at the two dragons on the dome. “Being able to fight side by side with dragons is way more promising than staying in this dump!”
“You... you will regret this,” the officer hissed through gritted teeth.
George tilted his head as if seriously considering the statement, then grinned. “I'd only regret it if I stayed here with you guys.”
He bounced the greatsword slightly on his shoulder and tilted his chin toward the dome. “Respected dragon, are you willing to accept me as your knight?”
Leopold lowered his head, his dark golden vertical pupils exceptionally striking in the fading light of dusk.
He stared at George for a few seconds. The young man's eyes were overly bright, and that fanatical drive didn't seem faked at all.
“...Fine,” Leopold said. “Come on up.”
George was overjoyed. He quickly sheathed his greatsword, leaped onto the stone carvings decorating the cathedral's side wall, and climbed up to the edge of the dome in just a few bounds.
“So this is a dragon...” he whispered, his tone almost reverent, as if on a pilgrimage.
Crouching at the edge of the cracked stone tiles, he reached out to touch the scales on the side of Leopold's neck.
“Have you felt enough?” Leopold turned his head, his voice tinged with impatience.
George quickly withdrew his hand, though he couldn't bear to look away from the scales. “Yes, yes, quite enough.”
Below, the demon officer had completely lost his composure. He drew his saber, pointed at the dome, and roared at the top of his lungs, “Archers! Shoot them down!”
The archers raised their crossbows, fingers resting on the triggers, yet none of them dared to fire first. Piercing dragon scales with crossbow bolts? They knew very well that doing so was nothing short of suicide.
Crouching on Leopold's back, George gripped a scale on the side of the dragon's neck with one hand while waving with the other. “Farewell, everyone! I will become the legendary—”
Leopold didn't wait for him to finish before suddenly flapping his wings and taking to the air.
George was nearly thrown off. He frantically gripped the scales tight, his voice torn apart by the wind: “—hero!”
The two dragons flew east, the outline of Blackstone Town shrinking behind them.
“Uh, hey...” George lay flat on Leopold's back, his voice broken up by the rushing wind. “This speed... feels pretty great!”
Lying on Leopold's back, the wind was blowing so hard he could barely open his eyes, but he still strained to raise his head, trying to make out the distant horizon.
“Flying like this, how long will it take for the demon pursuers to react?” George asked.
“They've already reacted,” Isabella called out as she closed in from the right, her voice carrying on the wind. “But they won't be able to catch up.”
She glanced sideways at George and added, “Don't move around too much. If you fall off, I'm not going to fish you out.”
“You two are the outsiders who broke into the cathedral the other day, aren't you?” George said excitedly. “The moment you spread your wings, I recognized them—those were dragon wings, real dragon wings!”
George's words were chopped up by the wind. Leopold didn't reply, only slightly adjusting his wingspan to stabilize the airflow.
The two dragons flew through the twilight, heading east.
George leaned forward on the black dragon's back, looking down at the shrinking houses and fields, then up at the sun dipping below the horizon in the distance.
“This is my first time seeing a sunset from this high up.”
“You're planning to defeat the demon king, right?!”
Leopold didn't look back, merely tilting his head slightly so his voice would carry downwind. “The demon king? Are you talking about the Lord of the Black Tide?”
“Yes, yes, yes! That guy in the black robes!” George patted the scales on the side of the black dragon's neck. “I've lived in Blackstone Town for two years and seen him several times.”
“And I know his plan!”
Leopold's flight posture didn't change, but his ears clearly twitched backward.
“You know his plan?”
Lying flat on the black dragon's back, George gripped the edges of the scales with both hands, his voice tinged with irrepressible excitement. “I didn't stay there for two years just to read religious texts.”
“The Lord of the Black Tide goes down to the cathedral's basement every so often. Every time before he leaves, he replaces the crystals on the teleportation circle.”
“Replaces them?” Isabella drew closer from the right. “Are those crystals consumables?”
“Yes. I didn't pay attention to it at first, but once, the old priest had me go down to the basement to move some books, and I noticed the positions of all the stones had changed.”
“They were clearly a new batch of stones.”
“After that, I started investigating,” George continued, showing that he had indeed never pledged true loyalty to the Demon Race. “Every time the Lord of the Black Tide comes, he stays in the basement for a long time.”
“I overheard him speaking with those black-robed men, and they mentioned a place.”
“What place?”
“The Valley of Ashes.”
Leopold had never heard of this name. There was no corresponding record of it in his inherited memories either.
“What kind of place is the Valley of Ashes?”
“Respected Lord Black Dragon and Lady White Dragon, do you know what a graymist troll is?”
Leopold didn't answer immediately. He maintained a steady flight posture and only spoke after a long pause. “A graymist troll? What is that?”
“I'm not too sure either,” George admitted candidly. “The old priest mentioned the name once when he was drunk. He said that is the Lord of the Black Tide's true objective.
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