Chapter 15

Lanken's gods had once again abandoned him. Lanken blamed the lack of donations for that.

He firmly resolved to either donate more in the future or to prevent Viretta from donating at all, glaring at her resentfully.

"Let's begin the first Dragon Hunt Strategy Meeting," Viretta announced, scribbling on the large blackboard next to the table with a piece of chalk.

"I am Viretta Medleridge, the interim chairwoman. If anyone has objections, please raise your hand."

Lanken raised his hand high, and Viretta pointed at him with the chalk.

"Understood. Let's move on to the next point. We are heading to the southern mining district to hunt the dragon. Any objections?"

Lanken raised his hand again, just as high.

"Alright. Since this is a last-minute endeavor, the funding will initially come from the items I brought from home and my personal savings. We’ll deduct the hunting expenses from the profits later. Any other opinions?"

Lanken waved both hands vigorously.

"Thank you for actively participating in the meeting. Now, the next item is setting a target date for the hunt. Since it’s impossible to hunt the dragon before the engagement ceremony in two days, let's decide on a more feasible date. When would be best?"

Lanken began waving his arms in circles, tapping the table with his other hand—thud, thud, thud.

"You're being really enthusiastic today! Thanks for the input."

"You're ignoring me!!"

Having been ignored four times in a row, Lanken finally snapped, shouting in frustration. Viretta, unfazed by the booming voice, winked at him.

"I'm not ignoring you. I’m paying close attention."

"Pay attention, then! If you're not going to listen, why even ask?!"

"It's just to take note. I want to be a leader who listens to everyone’s opinions!"

"Then show it with actions! Respect my input if this is supposed to be a meeting!"

"Oh, come on, don’t be like that. I don’t even listen to my father, who funds most of this operation. Why would I respect your complaints?"

She said this with such a sweet smile that it was hard for Lanken to even begin arguing. He simply stared at her, speechless, realizing that no reasoning was going to work.

Lanken glared at Viretta, looking like he’d just been punched in the face. What irritated him the most was how hard it was to refute her.

"I know you're concerned because you care about me, but as the saying goes, 'Spare the rod, spoil the child,' right?"

"That’s not the right context for that saying."

"Well, whatever. Iola, how long until your father Monain decides to try and kill my father?"

"If he doesn’t receive a satisfying answer, it might happen during the engagement ceremony."

"Wow, that’s... surprisingly direct and specific."

What she had meant as a joke received an unnervingly serious response. Considering Monain’s profession and Iola’s blunt honesty, it suddenly seemed much more dangerous. Viretta wiped a nervous sweat from her brow and forced a laugh.

"Well, my father has servants and guards with him. He won’t go down that easily."

"Let’s hope so. He once fought ten-to-one and came out victorious on the battlefield."

"Shouldn’t he be the one hunting the dragon then?! Why isn’t Monain hunting it?"

"I suggested that. He refused."

Viretta, now hearing the prompt and straightforward responses, felt the full gravity of just how formidable and ferocious the dragon must be. Stories and novels often told of knights who single-handedly slayed dragons, but those were just tales.

In reality, even a veteran mercenary with a ten-to-one victory ratio on the battlefield had refused to take on a dragon.

"So, you actually asked him?"

"Yes. You’re the fifty-third person I’ve asked."

Lanken, watching this unfold, looked increasingly gloomy. Viretta’s voice now carried a faint tremble.

"It’ll be fine. My father prides himself on his sharp tongue, so he’ll manage. After all, as they say, ‘The more precious the child, the more they should be disciplined.’"

"That’s still not how that saying works," Lanken quietly pointed out.

Iola, who had been sitting in deep thought with his hands clasped, finally stood up and picked up a piece of chalk. He began scribbling a few numbers on the blackboard.

"I’m not saying it’s impossible, but he’s unlikely to make any rash moves. After all, he hasn’t killed me yet, so he’s not entirely reckless."

"That’s a relief."

Viretta answered cheerfully as ever.

"However, we should finish the hunt within four months. It would be difficult for my father and his entourage to stay any longer, and winter makes dragon hunting especially hard."

"Why’s that?"

"In winter, a dragon's skin grows thicker, and the cold makes it harder to wield weapons. Sometimes, even gunpowder won’t ignite."

"Then let’s finish the hunt within four months."

Trusting Iola’s expertise on dragons, Viretta circled the numbers he had written and set an utterly audacious goal.

"Do you think it’s possible?" Iola asked with concern.

Though he had mentioned the four-month deadline based on Monain’s patience, it didn’t seem like four months was a reasonable time to hunt a dragon.

"No, it’s impossible. We’ll die first."

"Of course, we can do it."

"Your confidence is reassuring."

"Why are you ignoring me again? You trust everything else and buy random stones, but not me?"

He trusted a stranger when they said they’d go hunt a dragon.

When Lanken mentioned he was used to running away from home, he accepted it as an admirable trait.

He even bought an ordinary rock for four silver coins.

Even in the short time they’d known each other, Lanken had realized that Iola was the kind of person who believed whatever others told him.

Yet somehow, he constantly ignored Lanken's perfectly reasonable words. Ever since their first conversation about not being a knight, Lanken’s input had been consistently disregarded.

Frustrated by the blatant favoritism, Lanken sighed as Iola gently patted his shoulder.

"You’re upset because I haven’t trusted you. Don’t be angry."

"Lanken, honestly, even though we might not show it, both of us trust and care for you deeply."

"Am I your child now? Don’t make me out to be the petty guy who gets mad just because you didn’t believe me."

Despite Lanken’s grumbling, Iola and Viretta continued to comfort him from either side, placing gentle hands on his shoulders. Lanken’s face turned red.

Even though he pouted and muttered complaints, the warm reassurances from both of them remained unchanged. They treated him as if he were a little boy, showering him with kind words.

"I’m sorry for doubting your sincerity. It’s just that, with so many people and opinions in the world, when perspectives clash, I tend to prioritize those of the people closest to me. So, I might have unintentionally overlooked your advice."

"But why trust Viretta of all people?"

"Who else would I trust if not someone as honest and wise as her?"

At that moment, Lanken gave Viretta, the consummate braggart, a long, squinted glance. Not a single word she said was trustworthy.

Lanken sent a questioning look that implied Iola had chosen the wrong person to trust, but Iola didn’t budge.

"Viretta is my fiancée. Right now, she’s the closest person to me, so naturally, I’ll trust her first."

There was something unsettling about the pure faith Iola had demonstrated. It felt as though he had chosen to trust Viretta out of all the people around him.

As Lanken and Viretta exchanged doubtful looks, Iola smiled.

"Regretting not trusting someone close to you is a bad experience that’s better avoided."

His tone suggested he was speaking from bitter experience.

While Viretta and Lanken silently debated whether or not to ask further questions, Iola shifted the topic.

"Until our mission is accomplished, we can’t know whether the engagement will succeed or fail. We might end up strangers, but we could also become a married couple. So, thinking about the future, Viretta is simultaneously a stranger and my fiancée."

"Wha...?"

"She’s half my fiancée, which makes her closer to me than a complete stranger."

"Huh...?"

Lanken and Viretta both groaned in unison, utterly baffled by the bizarre explanation. They exchanged glances, relieved to see that neither of them understood what Iola was talking about. At least they weren’t alone in their confusion.

Iola, noticing their bewildered expressions, began drawing lines on the blackboard with the chalk. He drew a straight line and split it into two branches.

"So, as you see, there are two possible futures for us: hunting the dragon or failing to hunt it."

The top line was labeled as "Dragon hunted," and the bottom as "Dragon not hunted."

"I hope we succeed in hunting the dragon, but since the future is uncertain, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet."

"Oh, I get it now! Iola, you really do have a talent for making simple things sound complicated."

After staring at the blackboard for a while, Viretta suddenly burst into laughter.

"So, you’re saying that you’re halfway open to continuing our engagement!"

"That’s incorrect."