[V11C18] Cushion Trap

Once Melissa and Ray were finished shopping, Monica decided to go back home. Of course, she also retrieved Nero, who had been serving as the Flux Company’s bouncer.

Nero walked alongside Monica while carrying two wooden boxes with trumpets attached, one in under each arm.

“Nero, what’s that…?”

“Bun Girl made them. They’re pretty cool. Makes a sound when you step on the pedal.”

The nickname of ‘Bun Girl’ apparently referred to Karina. Nero had taken a liking to the trumpet boxes and asked Karina for them.

(Come to think of it, I got a wooden carving from Karina too…)

Monica gently stroked the wooden cat hanging from her bag, then looked up at Nero again.

She had occasionally strolled through Sazandol with Nero in his black cat form, but it had been quite a while since she walked beside his human form.

“Nero, did anything happen while I was gone?”

“A new restaurant opened up! I want to try their fried chicken!”

It seemed that Sazandol was as peaceful as always.

As Monica secretly breathed a sigh of relief, Nero looked back at Monica with his golden eyes, asking a question of his own.

“Actually, didn’t something big happen in the capital? Lana said something about dragons at the capital, and some emergency at Minerva.”

Two weeks had passed since the large-scale dragon disaster in the capital, so it was only natural that the rumors had reached Sazandol by now.

There was no way the well-informed Lana did not know about this. And yet, she deliberately avoided mentioning the dragon disaster or the incident at Minerva.

Perhaps she was being considerate to maintain a light mood for Ray and Melissa’s shopping excursion. She likely sensed the circumstances preventing open discussion about such matters.

Lana’s consideration, as well as the commonplace words of “welcome back”, gave Monica a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest.

(I hope I can eat dinner with Lana sometime soon. Maybe we can invite Karina too…)

In order to return to her ordinary life, Monica had to fight.

Her primary enemy was Theodore Maxwell, the man with the ancient artifact Gluttonous Zoe. In addition, she also had to deal with the ominous prophecy of the worst dragon disaster in all of history.

“I’m home,” Monica said, opening the door to her house.

This was when Isaac usually responded with a gentle “Welcome back,” but he was currently not here. Given the situation, he probably couldn’t come to Sazandol for a while.

(I’ll do my best and solve everything… then Ike can come here whenever he wants again.)

Monica put down her bag, took a seat, then looked at Nero. He had already set up the trumpet box on the floor, and was playing around by stepping on the pedal.

“Nero, there’s something important we have to talk about.”

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re leaving me behind again. I’ll sulk for real this time.”

“No, nothing like that…”

Monica watched the adult man playing with the trumpet boxes with a wry smile. She then proceeded to explain the events of the past few days.

About the newest member of the Seven Sages, the Dragon Slayer Mage, and how the magical tool he developed could locate dragons.

About being put on probation for her actions that led to the Red Dragon of Dalsmore escaping.

About the man named Theodore Maxwell, who had attacked people in the capital with the ancient artifact Gluttonous Zoe.

About the large-scale dragon incident that occurred at the same time. And finally…

“Starseer Witch-sama prophesied that the worst dragon disaster in history would occur…”

The worst dragon disaster in history.

Even after hearing those words, Nero showed no change in expression. His golden eyes remained focused on Monica, waiting for her to continue.

Monica lowered her tone and voiced the rest of the prophecy.

“Three terms are related to that prophecy: Sazandol, Silent Witch, and Black Dragon.”

Black Dragon. Nero blinked a single time after hearing that.

Then, he crossed his arms like someone deep in thought, tapping the pedal at his feet a single time. The trumpet box played a short note.

“Ah, I see how it is. So you and I will solve the dragon disaster in Sazandol.”

“Huh…? M-Maybe…?”

Glenn had interpreted it as Monica defeating a black dragon in Sazandol, but Nero made a valid point.

The Starseer Witch had only prophesied the involvement of a black dragon, not that it was the cause of the disaster.

“Since Sazandol borders the ocean, I bet it’ll be water dragons again. Well, no matter what comes, we’ll be unstoppable with my black flames combined with your chantless magic.”

Nero grinned as he tapped the pedal to make more trumpet sounds.

“I see… Yeah, you’re right.”

Slaying dragons had never been particularly difficult to Monica. Only water dragons posed a slight challenge, but she had gotten the hang of it during her last encounter with them.

Either way, they were no match for Nero.

(Actually, slaying the dragons will probably be easier than keeping Nero’s identity secret…)

Monica turned to Nero, who was still playing with the pedals, and spoke in a stern voice.

“Make sure to hide your identity, okay Nero? Be especially careful when Silas-san comes to Sazandol.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

Nero gave a casual nod, then went back to rhythmically tapping the pedal. Until suddenly, a light bulb went off in his head.

“Hey, Monica. I just came up with a great idea.”

“What is it?”

Nero continued with his golden eyes sparkling.

“I’ll put this pedal under Sparkles’s seat cushion. The trumpet will sound when he sits on it, giving him a big scare.”

“Bad Nero!”

＊　＊　＊

The heir to Marquis Highown, Cyril Ashley, was currently packing his bags within his room.

He had gotten very efficient at folding his clothes and packing them neatly over the past year. This was due to his constant travels throughout the Highown territory, as well as between the royal capital and Sazandol.

“You’re already leaving? But you just got back to the mansion.”

A white weasel was lounging on the sofa, observing Cyril as he packed. His true identity was the white dragon, Thule.

On that same sofa was a golden weasel, gazing at Cyril with violet eyes as she rolled between Thule and the edge of the sofa. This was the ice spirit, Ashelpikeh.

“Can we come too?” Pikeh asked. “Of course, we’ll follow even if you say no.”

“Why did you even ask then…?”

Cyril retorted, pausing his hands as he glared at Pikeh.

The golden weasel stood up on her hind legs, leaning against the sofa back. The posture looked similar to how a human might lean against a wall.

“So that you know we’re coming,” Pikeh answered.

“…”

“Wow, Pikeh, you’re so considerate,” Thule said.

The golden weasel seemed proud after the praise from the white weasel.

The scene definitely looked incredibly peaceful, but make no mistake. It was no exaggeration to say that the Kingdom of Ridill was facing a national crisis of unprecedented proportion.

Two weeks ago, a large-scale dragon disaster occurred in the capital, accompanied by the rampage of the ancient artifact Gluttonous Zoe. The incident left multiple people in a coma, including the Starseer Witch of the Seven Sages.

Cyril had not witnessed anything firsthand, having already returned to Highown at the time of the incident. But according to the rumors, a portion of the palace had collapsed.

Then, two days later, the Minerva Institute for Mages was also attacked by Gluttonous Zoe.

Furthermore, all of this was being kept secret from the general public. Cyril only knew about these events because his father had informed him.

“I’m not traveling for fun, you know. I must fulfill my duty as a Library Society official by serving as a stand-in for my father.”

Information about Gluttonous Zoe was only given access to those involved in resolving the incident. Cyril was one of them.

His role was to visit the Library Society headquarters and assist in finding information about Gluttonous Zoe, a job which would normally be handled by his father.

All members of the Library Society had been summoned to the capital because of this incident. However, due to the prophecy of another large-scale dragon disaster, the members who were also governors could not simply leave their territories unattended.

Marquis Highown was no exception, being busy with various territorial management duties. That was why he sent Cyril to visit the capital in his stead.

“Hey, Cyril. There’s some prophecy about a dragon disaster, right? And that scary guy with the ancient artifact might be in the capital too,” Thule said.

“You should bring us as your bodyguards,” Pikeh followed.

Though Cyril was happy to see the dragon and spirit offering to protect him, he tightened his expression and answered in a stern tone.

“I can protect myself.”

“Remember how you got kidnapped?” Pikeh retorted, pointing at Cyril with her front leg.

“…”

The sheer nerve of her to say that as the culprit responsible! But Cyril restrained himself from shouting.

The ice spirit and white dragon had accused him of having a short temper recently, so Cyril had made a habit of taking a deep breath before getting angry.

Cyril slowly exhaled, then spoke in a suppressed tone.

“I am an adopted son. That means I can be replaced if something happens to me.”

“I’m afraid I cannot agree with that way of thinking,” replied a voice from behind Cyril.

The startled Cyril turned around to see his adoptive father, Marquis Highown, looking at him through the gap in the doorway.

“F-Father!”

“I do not have any replacement for you. Keep that in mind at all times.”

Marquis Highown admonished him in a gentle tone, but Cyril felt ashamed of himself. Disregarding himself was essentially an act of betrayal to the man who adopted him.

“I apologize…”

Cyril lowered his head in apology. In response, Marquis Highown nodded in acceptance and extended his right hand.

“In order to encourage your awareness of that fact, I shall entrust him to you.”

In the palm of Marquis Highown’s hand was a jet-black ring shining in all the colors of the rainbow.

“How troublesome it is to watch over the young and inexperienced. It appears I must grant you access to my wisdom yet aga…”

“It’s the third wife,” Pikeh interjected.

“Curse you… Ice Spirit…!”

The shouting ring was the Key of Knowledge Sophocles. Marquis Highown placed the ancient artifact in Cyril’s hand and continued in his usual calm tone.

“The venerable House Roseberg, a pillar of the Library Society, has submitted an application to visit the Ascard Grand Library’s Deepest Forbidden Section. I want you to be their guide.”

The Deepest Forbidden Section was the innermost sanctum of the Forbidden Archives. The room had only been accessed twice in the past fifty years.

Only royalty, the Seven Sages, and the top members of the Library Society were allowed to request access, so it was said to contain some of the nation’s greatest secrets.

Eight years ago, when Gluttonous Zoe was stolen, a number of Library Society officials, including Marquis Highown, suggested examining the books in the Deepest Forbidden Section. However, a majority of the Library Society and the Noble Council dismissed the idea as unnecessary.

But now the incident had left witches from House Roseberg in a coma. Having lost some of their most prominent members, even the most reluctant Library Society officials had little choice but to change their stance.

“I don’t entrust ancient artifacts to just anyone. Think about what it means to hold this, and fulfill your duty.”

Not even Marquis Highown, the keeper of the Forbidden Archives, had set foot in its depths more than twice.

This was a significant responsibility. Cyril began to doubt if he could handle it.

(There is no need to fear.)

If he intended to back down after coming this far, then what was the point of his earlier confidence? The man named Cyril Ashley had already declared himself a member of the Lineage of Knowledge.

Cyril straightened his back, lifted his head, and looked his father right in the eye.

“Yes, Father. I promise to fulfill my duty.”

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