I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon-Chapter 54

He betrayed Viretta in an instant, brushing his hands off as if wiping them clean.

"A man’s got to have a conscience. I can’t drag these poor people into hell."

"You’re so considerate… So, we’re back to just the five of us preparing to hunt the dragon?"

"Iola! Do your best! Capture them, or I’m dead!"

A man who betrays once can betray twice. Without hesitation, Ranken flipped sides again, cheering Iola on.

It would be unfortunate if those debtors became sacrifices, but it would be even more unfair if he were the only one left to suffer.

Ranken silently wished them luck for today—and tomorrow.

After all, Viretta wouldn’t cause any casualties.

…At least, not yet.

"Anyway, let’s trust Iola to handle this. If he captures even three of them, we can use them as bait to lure in the rest."

"You’re getting nastier by the minute."

"They scared us pretending to be ghosts, so this much payback is fair!"

"So you did think it was a ghost, huh…"

Despite their words, the two of them already felt like spectators sitting in the third-floor balcony of a colosseum or opera house.

It was too dark to see the fleeing debtors clearly, but Iola would handle it without issue.

*****

There is a certain dignity that belongs only to the strong.

When people think of mercenaries, they usually imagine burly figures covered in scars.

But the era of settling disputes with fists ended with the advent of bronze weapons.

Now, it was the age of iron.

An age where companies like Medleidge melted metal into swords and flooded the world with weapons.

In this era, the strong were those skilled in the art of combat.

Even someone who looked as polished and harmless as a nobleman’s son could turn out to be a master swordsman.

Still, those who had survived battlefields carried a unique presence.

Mekkely, who had briefly worked as a mercenary before moving into recruiting and supplying guards for mines, prided himself on his ability to recognize true strength.

"Everyone, run. This one… is not someone we can win against."

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

He’d supplied guards for the mines near the Root Mountains.

Having seen countless strong men, even he could tell the young man before him was exceptional.

The way Iola held only a sword sheath while facing blades and spears was steady.

His expression showed no fear.

On his composed face was a mixture of loyalty to the woman watching from the second floor—and pity for the people before him.

"If you surrender now, I won’t pursue you."

Ridiculous.

This man wasn’t someone who would retreat from a simple threat.

Even with the people who’d staged a ghost hoax to steal money right before him, there wasn’t the slightest trace of anger in his eyes.

Instead, his gaze shone like the surface of a calm lake, filled with quiet resolve and anticipation.

"Unfortunately, Viretta requested that I capture you alive."

"Damn it…"

"I sympathize with your unfortunate connection to Medleidge, but my fiancée’s wishes come first."

The ground suddenly erupted, knocking Pitel forward. Iola swung his sheath lightly, striking Pitel squarely in the chest.

Pitel, a sturdy man who had served as the town’s guard for over a decade, doubled over, retching as he collapsed.

The overwhelming aura of an absolute warrior crushed Mekkely. When he hesitated, his wife threw herself in front of him.

"Please, stop! We’ll repay the debt, no matter how long it takes! Without my husband, we—"

"Allow me to make one thing clear."

Iola’s next strike knocked Mekkely’s wife unconscious.

His precise blow dropped the impoverished woman holding a child, leaving Mekkely’s back drenched in cold sweat.

"You must not sneak into another man’s fiancée’s room."

"You monster…!"

With two swift moves, Iola had downed two people.

And with his third strike, he brought the sheath down hard on Mekkely.

The older man staggered back, his feet sliding across the dirt, but he barely managed to stay upright.

Gritting his teeth, Mekkely swung his spear, trying to push Iola away from the fallen Pitel and his wife.

The comrades, unable to leave him to die alone, gathered in small groups and pointed their weapons at Iola with pained expressions.

“There are times when even being with an old friend feels uncomfortable, so it’s no surprise how it feels to face thugs who call themselves ghosts.”

“The fiancé of Medleidge?! How did they manage to pick someone like that for a fiancé?”

Mekkely swallowed hard and glanced up at the second floor they had fled to.

Hearing that the man calmly smiling as he beat men and women of all ages was her fiancé made Viretta appear in a completely new light.

She did have a reputation, but most of that came from her predecessors—the previous generations of Medleidge.

With her innocent and cheerful appearance, he had assumed she was just a spoiled young lady.

Now, watching her safely perched on the second floor while leaving her devilish fiancé to wreak havoc, he felt a deep chill.

Indeed, she had shown strange tendencies even when she casually spoke with her servants earlier.

“Kuh… We won’t yield to Medleidge’s tyranny!”

Mekkely shouted with tears in his eyes.

A five-year-old child raised his fists, following his father’s lead, and the other debtors—sharing the same plight—were overcome with emotion.

“Mekkely, don’t bear this alone!”

“We live and die together!”

What heartwarming comradeship.

It had been a year since the dragon nested in the Root Mountains. Businesses had failed, and as interest and debts spiraled out of control, these merchants fled their ruined village together.

“Yeah! We only have one enemy! Even though most of us have never held a sword before, we won’t lose in spirit! Let’s go!”

“If we unite our hearts, we can win. And even if we fall here, let’s pass this will to the next group!”

“Ooooooh!”

Mekkely, the strongest among them, raised his spear high.

The debtors, each carrying their own burdens, suppressed their breaking hearts and cheered with determination.

Seizing that moment, Iola assumed a cutting stance and leaped lightly.

Alone, he was an opponent they could never handle.

But if six of them attacked simultaneously…

If old men, women, and children all rushed him at once… surely even the greatest mercenary could be knocked unconscious for a moment.

Resolving themselves, Mekkely and the others charged at Iola.

—CRACKLE!

A ferocious lightning bolt, showing no concern for friend or foe, crashed down over their heads.

The thunderbolt struck dead center of the inn’s roof and branched out in every direction.

The dark night sky flashed brightly with a deafening roar.

The clearing was scorched black, and everyone outside the inn collapsed and twitched as the lightning hit them.

Even Iola, charred black, was left sprawled on the ground, barely moving.

From a bush a short distance away from the inn, Moslin appeared with an irritated expression.

“Don’t you know that interrupting someone’s romantic moment brings misfortune for three generations? An adult was having a moment here, and you just had to ruin it. Ugh. Annoying.”

Moslin, holding hands with Roberto, pointed the tip of her staff at the group and grumbled.

Roberto glanced at the fallen people, then tilted Moslin’s chin and whispered honeyed words.

“Don’t be too angry, Moslin. Although we were interrupted, seeing your magic again makes my heart swell. Your lightning is as powerful and beautiful as ever.”

“Of course. I’ve been training so I wouldn’t embarrass myself when we met again.”

“I was wrong to turn away from you.”

“And I was wrong not to show my joy honestly.”

“Moslin!”

“Roberto!”

The older couple embraced each other, filling the air with tender affection.

Moslin, who had been thought missing, had been enjoying her reunion with Roberto outside the shabby inn.

Annoyed by the noise around them, she unleashed the lightning out of frustration.

“Th-this ending…”

The lightly roasted Mekkely groaned in disbelief.

The passionate drama of brotherhood among men was utterly defeated by Moslin’s romance.