‘This damn lunatic!’
With the dragon’s heart in front of him, Ivar couldn’t move forward or retreat. He didn’t know how Lucian was holding the heart with bare hands, but a colossal power still emanated from it.
Now that it was completely separated from the artifact, touching the heart would mean being unable to withstand the force that would flow into him and dying in an explosion.
However, in front of all the tribe members, he couldn’t reject Lucian’s proposal without a reason either.
‘Damn it… what the hell am I supposed to do?’
For Ivar, it was impossible to create a dramatic effect like Lucian’s, so the result of this “courtesy” was practically decided.
Still, even if he couldn’t absorb the power of the heart, he had to prove that he could hold it without dying.
Only then could he prove that he had once, at least, been a warrior chosen by the heart.
But what if he had held it without issue before, and now died trying again?
It would be clear that he had never been chosen—that he was nothing but a fraud who stole the heart’s power.
‘If the lies I’ve told until now come to light, it won’t just stain my name. Even my sons could be affected.’
No matter how extraordinary they were, they would forever carry the shame of their father.
Any achievement would be dismissed with the same line, “What did you expect, with a fraud’s blood running through their veins?”
Worse still, Ainar and Brunda had taken the dragon’s power through the method Ivar had taught them.
Since ancient times, the tribe might believe that the entire family had knowingly taken part in the deception.
‘Why did this have to happen right after I revealed everything…?’
Cornered with no way out, Ivar shut his eyes tightly.
At this point, escaping unscathed was impossible. The only thing he could do was yield what he had to and minimize the damage.
“What’s the matter? Come on, hold the heart. I’m giving you a chance.”
At Lucian’s voice, full of mockery, Ivar took a deep breath.
The greatest thing he could sacrifice to reduce the damage was just one thing—his own pride.
“I appreciate your consideration, but I’m fine. There’s no need to hold the heart to know the result.”
“What do you mean?”
“I can hear the dragon’s voice. It has already chosen its master and tells me not to cling to it. At this point, even if I held it, nothing would happen.”
Ivar calmed his trembling cheeks as best he could and adopted an almost wise expression.
From afar, he looked like someone who had reached enlightenment—a man with no attachment to the heart.
“Even if it is a relic the tribe has protected for so long, if its rightful owner has appeared, the correct thing to do is return it. As a warrior once chosen, I will fulfill that duty.”
“Are you recognizing me as the owner of the heart?”
“That’s right. Take it. From now on, the heart is yours. However, remember that the dragon’s choice and the trials for chieftain are separate matters. You still have the third trial left.”
“Oh.”
Lucian let out a small sound of admiration at Ivar’s quick reaction.
If he touched the heart, he’d die. If he refused, he’d raise suspicion among the tribe.
Anyone else would have frozen.
But Ivar immediately gave up the heart and turned the situation into a noble tale—not as a rejected loser, but as a magnanimous man who accepted the natural order.
Moreover, by separating the dragon’s choice from the chieftain trial, he still maintained an image of fairness.
‘How clever. He gave up his pride but took everything else with him.’
Ivar didn’t react to Lucian’s whisper, as if he wanted everything to end quickly.
However, the words that followed shook him completely.
“Alright then… how about I make the same offer to your sons?”
“…!”
Ivar froze on the spot. If Lucian offered the heart to his sons, they would have to either touch it and die, or acknowledge Lucian as their superior—just as he had.
But Ivar’s situation and that of his sons were not the same.
Acknowledging Lucian as superior, when they were still competing for the position of chief, would be equivalent to surrendering.
They might even be swept up in the moment and proclaim Lucian as the third chief right there and then.
“P-please…”
With heavy breathing and his body drenched in cold sweat, Ivar barely managed to utter those words. Then, Lucian’s voice echoed next to his ear.
“We’ll do the third trial fairly. No dirty tricks. Understood?”
Ivar nodded frantically. Only then did Lucian smile, satisfied, lift the dragon’s heart, and proclaim.
“Even the one who was once chosen by the dragon has acknowledged it! How could you deny my right? I am the rightful owner of this heart, and from today onward, the dragon walks with me!”
“Waaahhh—!”
The tribe erupted into cheers for Lucian.
No one showed concern about the relic being in the hands of a foreigner.
Everyone believed, without a shred of doubt, that Lucian would be their new king.
***
Gunstein couldn’t process the chain of events unfolding like a storm.
Just yesterday, he had been left speechless by the absurd level Felicia had reached.
And now, in just a single day, even the owner of the sacred artifact that the tribe had guarded for generations had changed.
‘…After so many shocks in a row, I don’t think anything will faze me anymore.’
Now he understood a bit better why Lucian’s other retainers remained so unfazed.
If their lord always brought these kinds of monumental disasters with him, it was only natural to get used to it.
He thought, with some irony, that in a way, he too had gotten a little closer to Lucian’s other followers.
“Heavens above.”
Gunstein exclaimed again, stunned. And no wonder—the arrogant Guide was kneeling before Lucian, his lord.
“I, Marius, second son of a farming family, present my respects to Your Highness, the rightful heir of Valdeck and Duke of Asagrim. I beg forgiveness for all my previous insolence.”
“…”
At Marius’s display, not only his two disciples, but even Lucian’s retainers were left speechless.
Marius had reached the highest level among living mages.
Though the Empire didn’t recognize him due to its policy of persecuting mages, in ancient times he would have been treated as the equal of a Swordmaster.
That’s why his arrogance had been tolerated until now—but for him to suddenly act with such humility was bewildering.
“M-Master! Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
Colin stammered.
Marius remained silent, lips firmly shut, as if he didn’t dare raise his head without Lucian’s permission.
His posture resembled that of a peasant paying homage to a noble, making Lucian frown.
“I don’t like this. Raise your head.”
“It is an honor.”
“Honor, my ass. Why’d you suddenly stop acting like a wise old man and start behaving like a peasant? Are you mocking me?”
“No, it’s not that. I just…”
Marius opened and closed his mouth several times before falling silent again.
He recalled how every time he said too much, everything went wrong.
Clicking his tongue, Lucian sat down in an exaggeratedly disinterested manner, as if ready to get up and leave at any moment if he didn’t like the answer.
“What are you trying now? Since your plan fell apart, you decided to lower your head to get on my good side?”
“I just realized something.”
Marius finally spoke. In that brief moment, he seemed to have aged ten years.
“I thought my wish was an obsession. One of those you can’t let go of even in death.”
“And it wasn’t?”
“No. It was all a mistake on my part.”
Marius smiled bitterly.
“I dreamed that dream because I thought it was possible—because I believed it could still come true. If there really had been no possibility, I would’ve given up from the start.”
He recalled a mercenary he had met long ago, someone who said that if he couldn’t have everything, it was better to destroy everything.
That gaining something halfway brought no joy—only cheap pity that left a bitter aftertaste.
Marius had completely agreed back then, believing himself the same type.
“But when I really lost everything… I couldn’t bear it. I’m not someone who can completely give up just because my greatest dream fell apart.”
“So now that your dream of rebuilding the magic tower failed, you’re dreaming of something else?”
“Yes.”
“Interesting. And what dream is that?”
“Allow me to serve as your chief mage, under your command.”
“Ha.”
A mocking laugh came from behind Lucian—it was Hugo.
After failing to rebuild the magic tower, trying to steal his own disciple’s role as chief mage was simply pathetic.
Felicia and Raymond didn’t hide their disbelief either. Only Lucian remained calm, asking in a steady voice.
“You want the position of chief mage?”
“I do. But if that’s not possible, allow me to serve even in a lesser role.”
“And if I don’t accept that either?”
“Then give me magical research. I can train the next generation of mages.”
“And if I don’t want that either?”
“Your Highness…”
Marius’s voice trembled with raw desperation.
As everyone turned their heads, they saw his face was about to break into tears.
Marius even stopped bowing by protocol and began rubbing his hands together like a tenant farmer pleading with his landlord.
“I beg you… I implore you…”
“……”
Faced with the sight of a great master begging so pathetically, even Lucian’s followers were left speechless.
Felicia shut her eyes tightly. If she hadn’t met Lucian and had grown old without achieving anything, she might not have been any different from Marius.
After watching him silently for a long time, Lucian finally spoke in a calm voice.
“For someone so desperate, you’re not offering anything.”
“Huh?”
“You didn’t say what you can do for me or how useful you are. Until just recently, you couldn’t stop talking about that.”
“……”
“And that’s exactly what I like.”
At Lucian’s almost amused tone, Marius raised his head sharply.
Lucian was looking at him with a much softer expression than before.
“If you had said ‘use me because I’m useful’ or ‘you must use me because I’ll help you,’ I would’ve thrown you out immediately. But you’ve changed my mind.”
“Y-Your Highness…”
“I’ll value that you left everything in my hands and give you one last chance. Don’t disappoint me this time.”
Hot tears rolled down Marius’s cheeks.
He had lived his entire life running like a sewer rat, clinging to a miserable pride that only led him to make bad decisions.
And now, just when he abandoned that pride and raised up the other, the path opened before him.
Regret for not doing so sooner and the euphoria of receiving one last chance swirled in his chest.
“Thank you, Your Highness! Thank you…!”
“Enough with the thanks. Now that you’ve entered my service, I have a few questions. Answer them first.”
“Ask anything!”
Fwoosh.
Lucian lit a flame formed by dragon magic in his hand. Then, staring straight at the emotional Marius, he asked.
“How exactly is this dragon magic used?”
***
T/N:
I’m not sure whether to use “Your Majesty” or “Your Highness” for Lucian; the term may vary so that readers don’t get confused thinking it’s a translation mistake.
____
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