Three days had passed.
During that time, the demon race never spoke a word to me, only throwing cold porridge and hard bread before leaving.
The child, however, kept coming over, seemingly intrigued by me, constantly trying to start a conversation.
And so, time passed.
Perhaps it was due to the poison I had drunk before losing consciousness, but my body was recovering at an unnaturally fast rate.
But then, the scent of something burning began to seep in, along with smoke.
It was still the middle of the night, long before dawn, yet for some reason, it was unnaturally bright outside.
Gripping my staff, I forced myself up and pushed open the stiff barn door.
The moment I stepped outside, thick, suffocating smoke stung my nose.
Turning my gaze, I saw a village engulfed in flames.
The crimson inferno raged wildly, spewing black smoke into the sky.
Amidst the horrific scene,
A small, familiar shadow came stumbling toward me, covered in blood.
It was the demon child who occasionally visited me.
Blood was clearly visible through the torn fabric of their clothes, and they staggered as if they might collapse at any moment.
Chasing after the child were kingdom soldiers, their breaths ragged as they sprinted, blades glinting in their hands.
And at the very back of the soldiers, I saw the hero.
The moment the child hid behind me as if seeking refuge, the hero spoke.
“Your Grace, the Duke.”
His eyes were different from when I had last seen him.
His deep, dark pupils burned with fury.
The instant our gazes met, I realized—just like me, the hero had also been broken.
“Do you have a reason for trying to kill even a young child?”
I asked in an empty voice, devoid of emotion.
It was merely a question of why he had made such a decision.
There was not a single thought of protecting the child.
If the hero said that no matter what, the child had to die,
I had no intention of opposing him—I would simply step aside.
The hero gestured to the soldiers beside him, signaling them to withdraw.
Without hesitation, the soldiers immediately turned away.
“…She was murdered by the Demon King’s army.”
The hero’s gaze twisted in agony.
It was obvious whom he meant.
Two rings adorned his fingers.
“So, I will kill the demons.”
He turned his gaze toward the child.
The child still clung to me, eyes filled with terror.
The warmth of their trembling hands seeped into mine.
A stranger I had no reason to protect.
And yet, for some reason, I reached out, blocking the hero’s path.
“…Even a child who had nothing to do with it?”
In my words, the hero’s expression contorted.
As if realizing the nature of what he had done, he slowly lowered his blood-stained sword.
Without another word, I walked past him.
Behind me, I heard the heavy sound of the hero sighing.
I picked up the child, gently stroking their small head.
Their tear-streaked cheeks were warm and soft.
Leaning on my staff, I walked forward.
As we passed through the village, now consumed by flames, I covered the child’s eyes with my hand.
The acrid smell of smoke burned my nose, the sound of collapsing, burning wood echoed around us, And the sobs of those who had failed to escape lingered in the air.
There was no reason for the child to see such things.
I could feel the gazes of the kingdom’s soldiers glancing at the demon child in my arms.
However, the moment they noticed the staff in my grip and the eyepatch covering my eye, they seemed to recognize my identity and fell silent.
I kept walking, leaving the ruined village behind.
“Is there another village nearby?”
The child wordlessly raised a finger, pointing somewhere.
Following the direction they indicated, I walked for quite some time until another village finally came into view in the distance.
Why was I doing this?
Was it the last remnants of my humanity, or just a fleeting whim?
I didn’t know.
I understood hypocrisy well enough.
As I reached the village outskirts, wary eyes from unfamiliar demons all turned to me in unison.
A few of them seemed ready to attack, but the moment they saw the staff in my hand, their faces contorted in fear.
I approached slowly and set the child down on the ground.
The child hesitated but eventually moved toward the villagers.
I turned away without further concern and began walking again.
Behind me, I could faintly hear the voices of the villagers comforting the child, but it meant nothing to me.
I set my gaze on the distant Demon King’s castle and continued forward.
The sharp, towering black spires looked like the fangs of a massive beast, and I could feel the journey nearing its end.
One day passed.
Then two.
Then three.
More precisely, the sun had risen and set three times.
Strangely, I neither felt hunger, thirst, nor fatigue, allowing me to walk without stopping.
Just as I thought I was finally nearing the Demon King’s castle, a foreign presence flashed behind me like lightning.
Instinctively, my hand went to the dagger at my waist as I turned around.
What entered my sight was an old man clad in resplendent golden armor.
Deep wrinkles lined his face, bearing the traces of time, yet his posture remained straight and unwavering. His solid physique exuded overwhelming strength.
The rough, bark-like skin of his hands was covered by finely engraved gauntlets, yet beneath them, the movement of his trained sinews was clearly visible.
It was a sensation similar to when I had first faced the Demon King.
I instantly realized—this old man was no ordinary human.
“Do not be so wary, child.”
His voice, though calm, carried an undeniable pressure.
His gaze felt as though it had been piercing through me for an eternity.
“I am… Dragon Lord.”
The moment that name left his lips, my eyes widened in disbelief.
A being at the pinnacle of legends, capable of annihilating entire armies with but a single one of their kind—stood right before me.
Cold sweat trickled down my spine.
I had no idea why the Dragon Lord had come for me.
Was it because of the heart beating within my chest?
If that old man had come to reclaim the Dragon Heart inside me,
I wouldn’t even be able to lift a single finger to resist.
It felt as though an immense mountain range was pressing down upon me.
Like peering into the abyss, an instinctual terror gripped my entire being.
The sheer weight of his presence made even breathing difficult.
“Calm yourself.
I am only here to have a conversation.”
The old man’s gaze lingered on my chest for a moment.
“When was the last time you drank water? The last time you slept? The last time you ate?”
It was only upon hearing his question that I realized the abnormalities within my body.
Could an ordinary person walk for three days without eating, drinking, or sleeping?
This was not normal.
It felt as if the very balance of my body had been utterly shattered.
“Hm. Judging by your expression, it seems you were aware of it yourself.”
As if seeing through my confusion, the old man muttered in a low voice.
Without another word, he stepped forward and suddenly seized my wrist.
Even through the thick armor, his grip was cold and firm.
As if searching through the empty veins where even a pulse could not be felt,
he pressed against my wrist for a long time before finally speaking.
“There is a prophecy from the ancient dragon of the White Clan.
It speaks of a White Clan hatchling who sought to defy fate—only to meet their death.”
The words White Clan and death struck my mind like a dagger.
A sharp sensation coursed through my entire body, as if my senses had been honed to a razor’s edge.
A White Clan fledgling who tried to twist fate.
Could he be referring to the woman from my dreams?
At the very least, I knew one thing for certain—the weight behind his words was not to be taken lightly.
“I wish I could help you… but I must not.”
The Dragon Lord murmured softly, his ancient eyes fixed upon me.
There was a faint sorrow in his voice.
“You have two choices.
If you abandon your attempt to defy fate, I will spare your life.
But if you continue forward, you will meet your death.”
His heavy voice did not feel like a lie.
I parted my tightly shut lips, feeling the need to say something to him.
But before I could even process my own thoughts,
my lips moved on their own, and my breath escaped in a ragged whisper.
“Lord… I… have chosen my path.”
It was undeniably my voice.
Yet, the one speaking was not me.
The words formed without my will, my lips parted, my tongue shaped the syllables,
my throat vibrates to produce sound—
And yet, every step of the process felt completely beyond my control.
It was as if someone else was using my mouth to speak.
The Dragon Lord furrowed his brows slightly, a pensive expression crossing his face.
Then, as if in resignation, he slowly turned away and muttered under his breath.
“I see… Half-elf child, I do not even need to hear your decision. If the will of the one slumbering inside you is so resolute… then it must be respected.”
With those final words, the Dragon Lord transformed into a golden dragon and soared into the distant sky.
Even now, I could not fully comprehend what had just happened.
But I knew one thing—
I had to keep moving forward.
Toward the Demon King’s castle.