Around midday, the northern marketplace in Dante was especially lively, packed with merchants of all kinds.

Aino brought Alea along, hoping for a change of pace. Aino’s recent days had become monotonous, with her only emerging from her room around noon and waiting for Alea to finish lunch before heading to the forest together.

They never ventured far into the forest, only wandering around its edges. Occasionally, when they encountered an aggressive creature, Aino would use it to test various attack methods.

Alea couldn’t understand this laid-back lifestyle; Aino was clearly powerful and had probably lived for countless years, yet she was acting like a rookie adventurer, testing herself against low-level monsters.

What was she trying to do?

Last night, on a whim, Aino decided to visit the marketplace. She had no specific purpose; she was just bored and wanted to wander around.

As she looked at the bustling market and crowded streets, Alea felt an odd sense of disconnection.

It had been so long since she’d experienced this kind of carefree life.

Back when she was a witch, her days were filled with battling nobles, researching eerie magic, evading noblemen's hunts, and fending off chaotic fellow practitioners.

After her capture, the goblin nest had been a constant darkness.

And now, there was nothing she needed to do. This peaceful life felt almost too comfortable.

But there were still so many damned nobles, so much darkness and injustice in the world...

Should she abandon it all and take up the path of revenge again with her powerless body?

Would that be foolish, nothing more than self-inflicted suffering?

As Alea’s thoughts drifted, she noticed a large crowd gathered ahead, unusually loud and lively. People had formed rows to watch some kind of performance, cheering and laughing.

Alea felt a familiar discomfort and didn’t want to get closer, but Aino silently tugged her hand, leading her forward.

As they neared the crowd, she caught snippets of words like “wench” and “fountain.”

“Look, here it comes! The ‘fountain’ with its tail tucked in!” someone shouted, laughing.

“Haha, four streams! Who wants to buy one for their garden?” another jeered.

The crack of a whip was heard, accompanied by the pained groans of women.

It was a place selling demi-human slaves, with each slave tethered like a dog, displayed for potential buyers. Some women were forced into degrading performances as “fountains” to attract buyers.

The miserable sight of these women thrilled the onlookers, who laughed and cheered. Some young spectators even stepped forward to poke at the demi-humans, mocking them.

This wasn’t the first time Alea had witnessed such scenes.

These filthy scum aren’t fit to be human… Rage boiled within Alea, and she wished she had the power to incinerate the jeering crowd.

But she was powerless now—and far from free.

Alea turned to look at Aino, curious about her reaction.

The dark-haired girl observed the spectacle with a blank expression, her gaze calm and detached.

“Let’s go, Alea. There’s no point watching this; it’ll only sour your mood.” Aino tugged her hand, leading her away. Alea, with reluctance, glanced back at the women but said nothing, pursing her lips as she followed.

They walked in silence for a while before Alea finally murmured, “When I could still use magic, I would usually kill everyone in such situations.”

“…”

“See? That’s why you ended up like this.”

“Huh?” Alea was taken aback by the unexpected response, anger surging even more strongly than before.

“So, it’s my fault for standing up for others, for killing those vile nobles, and for stopping the bullies and thieves?” Alea almost laughed in disbelief, her anger mingling with a profound bitterness and a hint of frustration.

“You weren’t wrong, but maybe they weren’t either.”

… More cryptic nonsense. Alea was at a loss.

“The people you helped—how are they now? Are they living well?”

“And you, a righteous avenger—if you hadn’t met me…”

“The world is vast, and what you see, what you find intolerable, is only the tip of the iceberg. You could either make it your life’s work and tackle it on a large scale, or you could let it go and not sacrifice your own peace and safety for fleeting heroics.”

“That’s how I see it.” Aino spoke as they walked.

Alea fell silent, unable to argue, though she didn’t agree. “If those women were my family or friends, I wouldn’t stand by. My family… those beasts… I’d rather endure hardship to kill them than let them live!”

Without missing a beat, Aino replied, “If one of those women were you or Aunt Molly, I’d kill everyone without hesitation, no matter how powerful they were.”

“But they’re not. I don’t know them, don’t know who they are or what they’ve done.”

“If I kill them and leave here, I’ll only encounter the same thing elsewhere.”

“Alea, I follow my own heart. If there’s someone I want to save, I’ll act without hesitation. But I won’t take it upon myself to pursue justice as a duty.”

“If you don’t understand, consider it a difference between monsters and humans.”

They continued walking, with Aino talking a lot along the way.

Expressing her personal thoughts without a specific purpose like this was a rare experience for Aino.

The last time she’d spoken so freely might have been in her early teens, chatting with her mother. Yet even then, her mother had only given formulaic responses from parenting books, rather than speaking soul-to-soul.

It felt surprisingly good to talk to Alea like this.

In the end, the reason Aino didn’t intervene to stop the grotesque display boiled down to one thing:

She didn’t have enough power.

Dante was a small, insignificant human town with no real threats. Here, she could act freely.

But across the human realm, many could defeat her. If word spread of a dragon attacking a human city, it would draw strong opponents to hunt her down.

If she had the strength to dominate the world, she wouldn’t need to worry. She could wipe out any offending sight without fear.

Dragons, unlike humans, were unique even among most monsters. Their lifespans spanned thousands of years, marking them as singular beings.

A human might reach the strength of a five-hundred-year-old dragon by the age of twenty—that was humanity’s strength, a rapid growth no other being could match.

But humans, even those of great power and longevity, lived at most a few hundred years.

Dragons, though, easily lived for millennia.

As a young black dragon, Aino’s strength couldn’t outpace a human’s. She couldn’t just train for a few days in seclusion and emerge vastly stronger.

All she could do was live, keep on living.

Her strength and mana would grow with the years, accumulating until she became a walking disaster upon the world.

So she couldn’t—and didn’t want to—interfere in these affairs. The more she meddled, the greater the risk of attracting trouble.

Unless there was no other choice, she would avoid it. If ever her pride demanded it, she’d strike without holding back.

The dragon’s path, the path of longevity.