Lanken, who had been muttering to himself, suddenly had a change of heart and adopted a new attitude.

“Yeah, he's an amazing guy. So let's just get married already. Lock it down before someone else takes him.”

“To become a fitting fiancée for someone as remarkable as Iola, I simply must capture that dragon.”

“No, by that point, you’ll be an ex-fiancée.”

“Even an ex-fiancée is still a fiancée in some way.”

“No, once it’s over, it’s over; there’s no more suitability involved.”

Of course, even if they broke off the engagement, she would still be considered a former fiancée for a while, but that held no real meaning.

To be the ‘former’ fiancée of such a talented, kind, and well-rounded man… that wasn’t exactly a glamorous title. It was almost humiliating.

“Ending it is fine by me.”

“No, don’t be so pleased about it.”

“Then shall we move on and make a new plan to honor Iola’s faith in me?”

Viretta employed her best tactic for when conversations hit a wall—ignoring and changing the subject entirely.

By boldly switching topics, she could count on Lanken to grumble and yet follow the new thread of conversation with his ear close to the ground.

And with Iola practically glowing with excitement, like a child about to open presents, Viretta found herself thoroughly enjoying the moment.

After all, one needs an audience to make a good show. With a flourish, Viretta spread out the map she had bought at the inn.

“For our first hunt together, I had one significant regret.”

“Was it a profound guilt over hunting an animal unnecessarily for amusement or show?”

“You always bring a fresh perspective, Iola. Impressive, but incorrect. First, it’s the matter of dealing with the prey afterward. Just catching it doesn’t resolve the problem.”

The prey had to be hauled back to the village, skinned, its meat separated, and its disposal sorted out.

And another thing—they had to leave the area quickly after the hunt. Otherwise, they’d risk attacks from packs or predators.

“True. We paid dearly for not knowing that.”

“Oh, calling it stupidity! It was just a tiny lack of knowledge.”

Viretta recalled the bitter memory of wasting time prancing around the horned beast, only to have the entire herd charge after them.

This “tiny” lack of knowledge could sometimes lead to critical consequences, but it was only tiny after all—no big mistake.

“Sharp observation. We do need to think of the post-hunt matters. And maybe reconsider sending the beast’s head to the engagement ceremony.”

“That was well done, though. Both our fathers must have been relieved.”

“Oh, I’m sure they were, having learned the whereabouts of the ones who’d declared war on them.”

“Declared war? That’s news to me! We sent it as a gift—a wedding gift.”

Even if it was their own engagement ceremony.

“No, no. For mercenaries, sending a beast’s head is a clear declaration of war. Conveniently enough, ‘gift’ and ‘head’ even share the same first letter.”

“No, even if they did, that doesn’t mean a thing.”

“The rhyme is bound to amuse them.”

“Will a hundred ‘no’s help you understand?”

“That’s the first time I’ve heard of such a thing!”

Viretta let out a frustrated wail, which startled Iola.

“Wait, are you saying it wasn’t a declaration of war?”

“Why would it be?! Against my father?! Well, I mean… now that you mention it, it’s not impossible. But no!”

“Exactly! That’s my fiancée for you!”

“Of course, I, Viretta, as your fiancée… Wait a minute, what exactly do you think of me, Iola?!”

Realizing she’d basked in his compliment too long, Viretta snapped back to attention. A flurry of thoughts overwhelmed her.

He so easily assumed she’d make such a bold declaration, and he even seemed delighted at the thought… just how off was Iola’s mental image of Viretta Medleridge?

“What do I think of you? I think you’re independent, courageous, and big-hearted.”

“Well, naturally… but isn’t there a vast sea between being someone with a big heart and declaring war on my father?”

Though it was a flattering image, she couldn’t let it go unexamined.

Iola, wide-eyed and seemingly perplexed, looked at her as though he didn’t quite understand what she was getting at.

“But fathers… in most stories and even in real life, they’re usually the biggest obstacles and adversaries for their children, aren’t they?”

“Not entirely wrong, but it does sound rather cold.”

Depending on how one heard it, he seemed to treat fathers as mere obstacles.

“That’s because fathers often can’t accept their children’s growth. Isn’t that why they’d push someone like you into a loveless marriage for the family’s benefit? Such is the way of fathers.”

“Growing harsher, I see.”

“I may have described it a bit too objectively. I apologize. But they believe they’re acting out of love, for their child’s sake, which makes them formidable foes. To truly become adults, one must clash with their fathers.”

“So you’re suggesting we stand and fight, then? Do you wish to fight your own father, Iola?”

“Hm? Well… my father isn’t really…”

That trailing “isn’t really…” seemed to contain a hidden thought: “Is he really worth the trouble of fighting?” Instead of saying it outright, he refined his words.

“He’s not an obstacle worth rallying myself to overcome.”

Iola’s words were polished, without a hint of darkness.

“Oh, well, my father isn’t really…”

That “isn’t really…” was clearly the same as Iola’s, implying a lack of need to fight him.

This allowed Viretta to grasp Iola’s true meaning.

It wasn’t so much “I don’t want to clash with my father” as it was “there’s no need to pick a fight over something trivial.”

“After all, what difference would it make if he tries to stop me or get angry?”

“Ah, I see. So you’ve already stepped beyond your father’s boundaries.”

Lanken watched the two rebellious offspring with a frosty look from a distance. They were quite warm with each other, but when their conversation was laid bare, it was ruthless.

“Yes, there was no need to declare war. Anyway, what’s done is done! Next time, instead of just thinking on your own, share all the details with me, won’t you?”

“Thank you for your grace. Next time, I won’t act alone and will inform you immediately.”

“I’m glad you understand right away. Now, back to the main point, we need a fast way to transport the game back to the village. Without declaring war.”

“Well, a cart should work, shouldn’t it?”

“We’ll have to make a cart suited to a dragon. And we’ll need oxen or horses capable of pulling it. If keeping the carcass intact isn’t a requirement, we could use multiple carts and dismantle the dragon.”

Back on topic, Viretta’s ideas flowed freely. She quickly sketched out her vision of post-dragon capture by scribbling characters on her hand with a finger.

Beside her, Lanken adjusted his load with a wary expression but one tinged with familiarity. He was accustomed to this.

Viretta, as unreliable as a sandcastle yet strangely thorough, always prepared for what lay beyond her immediate goal. Long before she captured the dragon, she was already considering how to handle it afterward.

It might look like reckless optimism, yet it also reflected her serious dedication, however absurd her plans might seem.

“We’ll also need a pre-cleared transport route. We’ll certainly encounter disputes over road tolls while moving such a large cart. And if the dragon is too big to pass through the castle gate, we’ll have to set it up outside the walls, so we’ll need to prepare a tent to shield it from the rain…”

After mulling over various points, Viretta dusted off her hands, dismissing the scattered plans.

“…So, what I’m getting at is, we need more people. There’s no way the three of us can take down a dragon alone!”

This was her main point: they needed more people. She’d only declared her intent to hunt the dragon, not to do so with just the three of them.

Feeling pride in her insight, Viretta clasped her hands near her chest.

“Oh, thank goodness. I’m fully in support! God has answered my prayers! Thank you!”

As Lanken began his grateful prayer, Iola shook his head in disappointment.

“Attempts to gather people within Fillian have ended in utter failure.”