I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon-Chapter 57

"Of course. This is my hunt. It’s only right that I go out myself. How could anyone recognize my achievement if I just give orders from the back?"

Suddenly, Viretta’s naive and utterly out-of-touch words irritated Saffron.

Is this person really crazy?

Or has she grown up so sheltered that she just can’t understand reality?

Whatever emotions might have appeared on Saffron’s face, Viretta’s expression remained unchanged.

"Unless you’ve fallen for me, you probably don’t need to worry about what happens to me. If you have fallen for me, well, you’ll have to risk your life to hunt the dragon for my sake, right?"

Her face, with a slightly colder tone than usual, carried a subtle smile as she proudly made her declaration.

The odd mix of bravado and pretense in her words irked Saffron.

"Have you fallen for me?"

"Impossible... As a lowly slave, I could never harbor feelings for a noble lady like you."

It wasn’t that he found her utterly detestable; it was more that the way she acted was strangely endearing.

"I don’t care about status, though. But... It’s clear that we haven’t known each other long enough for you to have fallen for me. You’re probably just irritated about something else."

"Of course."

He could never accept the thought that she might think he had feelings for her.

Falling in love would be losing. Saffron, with his dark hair, tilted his head slightly, covering his eyes.

"You’re not upset about the dragon hunt; it’s me that’s bothering you, isn’t it?"

"Heh, what?"

Saffron’s eyebrows twitched. Viretta, smiling casually, once again nailed it.

"You don’t feel that way about Ranken, right? It’s me and Iola you don’t like, isn’t it?"

"How could I ever act that way toward my master?"

But even a naive person could easily hear the mockery in his tone.

Saffron coughed to keep his voice from cracking.

"It’s fine if you’re not hiding it. You’re not the only one who’s jealous of the Medleidge daughter. It’s something I, born the daughter of your father, have to carry, overcoming countless jealousy and feelings of inferiority."

"Ha, I see."

Why did he think that was so hard? Pretending to be oppressed and suffering was nothing compared to hunger and punishment.

Saffron looked at Viretta, who seemed to drop her head in a sorrowful manner, with cold eyes.

Viretta, who received his dark gaze, raised her head and slightly curled her lips.

"You think it’s unfair, don’t you?"

"...Oh, I suppose a lowly slave like me would think such foolish things. I’m just envious."

"Far from it. It’s unfair and unfortunate. It’s tragic that you inherited such massive debt from your parents when you were born."

"..."

Viretta bent her waist and pushed her head closer to Saffron’s face.

Saffron didn’t move away and simply watched as Viretta approached.

Her sweet, playful face, still carrying a smile, delivered words sharp as a blade.

"Even if we fight and struggle, the best we can hope for is just to become free. That’s how unfair the world is."

"Aha."

Saffron’s brow furrowed. For a moment, he felt a bit amused.

Is this really her nature?

She seems so bright and sunny, but is that just a mask, with her true nature being to poke at others' painful spots?

If that’s the case, then he’d rather be at ease. For Saffron, he preferred relationships where they mocked and despised each other rather than one where they bandaged each other’s wounds.

"Heh, I can only admire your cold insight, like a learned person."

As Viretta had said.

The butcher wasn’t going to jump into the hunt. He didn’t care if Viretta or Iola died. He didn’t think this plan would succeed in the first place.

Yet the reason he kept showing discomfort was because the outlook after success didn’t sit well with him.

Even if it was ‘life-changing,’ it was just going from slave to free person.

It was a modest accomplishment—something that others usually started with and obtained after 23 years.

If the reward for rolling down a thorny path was that kind of freedom, there was no motivation to get excited.

Freedom was precious, but the issue before that.

The deep sense of deprivation felt by someone who had been born into misfortune and placed low since birth, regardless of what they did wrong.

The fact that they had to struggle just to get to the same level as others was unpleasant.

The idea that someone would use sweet bait to try to manipulate him made him feel disgusted, like bugs crawling on his skin.

"I see. So what?"

"So what?"

Saffron repeated Viretta’s words.

He hated nobles and the rich. He hated people born with luck. Seeing people who were born under a lucky star and shining brightly made him uncomfortable.

That was all there was to it. He wasn’t going to kill anyone just because he was annoyed.

His petty irritation was something they’d have to bear, like taxes.

"There’s got to be something else you’re going to say, right? You won’t just sit down and whine about how unfair the world is and how miserable and unlucky you are."

There was no way the ‘so what?’ would go anywhere, and Saffron’s frown deepened.

Viretta squinted her eyes and smiled, gently propping up Saffron’s chin with her fingers. Her delicate fingers lifted his strong jaw.

"Is that what you’re thinking?"

Her smile was like that of a village girl flirting with a nobleman.

A smile that seemed to look down on him, as if mocking him for being nothing but that.

"Let me give you a little advice from the second daughter of the greedy, money-hungry Medleidge family."

At that moment, Viretta might have indeed been a little irritated. Or maybe, she was simply angered by Saffron’s mockery.

There was a blade hidden in her smile.

Saffron reassessed his opinion of Viretta. She might look innocent, but she was the daughter of Medleidge.

"No one—really no one—cares about your complaints. People only pity what they can’t have."

Viretta’s hand gently caressed Saffron’s chin. Her face was so close that their foreheads could touch.

Her fingers were rougher than expected, not as coarse as a slave’s, but they certainly showed signs of hard work.

"Regardless of where or what kind of person you were born as, everyone considers what they have to be their natural right and only complains about what they can’t have. They might show pity occasionally, but that’s it. It’s just talk."

Suddenly, feeling suffocated, Saffron bit his lips.

He had seen enough arrogant nobles.

He had seen enough rich people who took what they had for granted.

He had experienced countless people who, grateful that they weren’t slaves, wiped their brows in relief.

But no one had ever spoken so sweetly while digging into someone’s wound like this.

"Saffron. I can listen to your complaints all month long. Feel free to whine all you want. You’re part of our team now. I’m not going to silence you."

Saffron realized that he had judged too hastily.

Just because Viretta had a sweet, charming face didn’t mean she was naïve and pure.

Viretta knew exactly who she was the daughter of.

She knew what she had and what she didn’t have.

"This is no lie or exaggeration. You can do it, but, but..."

She let go of Saffron’s chin, leaned back slightly, and exhaled.

Taking a breath before saying something important, she threw out a painful remark.

"Do you really want to keep living like that?"

The question of whether he wanted to keep living like that scratched at Saffron deeply.

Viretta was more perceptive than he had thought and more cruel than he had imagined.

Updat𝓮d from frёewebnoѵēl.com.

"People like me, born into unfavorable conditions and still pushing forward, are rare, but do you really want that? You, who hate rich people like me."

"..."

Saffron was now glaring at Viretta as if he wanted to kill her.

What had started as a simple irritation was now genuine hostility, building up in his chest.

"The complaints of those who have nothing and don’t strive for anything are like heavenly music to those who have something. Do you want to make them happy?"

Her round eyes, without a trace of condemnation, simply asked, "Really?"