Chapter 155

“As a fellow Southerner, I’m completely against joining forces with those Northerners,” the man said, his voice heavy with conviction, “but when the opponent is a war demon, that changes everything.”

A woman frowned, biting her lip. “But didn’t that man marry the princess of Argan? Does that mean he’s going to attack his wife’s homeland? Honestly, only a true madman would be so heartless—no blood, no tears. I can vividly picture how the poor princess must be treated.”

“Actually,” another worker chimed in quietly, “there’s talk that the princess fled from him.”

“What? Really?” The first woman’s eyes widened, disbelief sharp in her tone.

The man nodded solemnly. “Yes. That’s why opinions are so divided. Some say the whole marriage to the Grand Duke was a lie from the start, and there are rumors she was captured and enslaved by barbarians. But witnesses claim to have seen the princess in Norella, in Van Yela. If that’s true, they say she killed some nobles there and vanished without a trace.”

The woman’s expression shifted into one of grudging admiration. “Is that so? How impressive. True royalty never just takes it lying down, even in enemy territory!”

The worker, who had always shown a friendly attitude toward the princess, laughed heartily at that. Yet the very person who was the subject of their praise and encouragement couldn’t bring herself to smile.

Setting aside the rumors that oddly seemed to hold some truth, she struggled to make sense of it all.

Rezette is coming to Regal with troops…?

No way he volunteered, right?

It had to be an imperial order—perhaps a deployment meant to atone for letting her go. As a subject, refusing would be impossible.

But I don’t think he would be that obedient…

On the surface, Rezette seemed the very image of a loyal, steadfast knight of the emperor. Yet, in truth, he rarely followed his letters or orders without objection. Even when he offered the bare minimum of respect, if he didn’t want to comply, he could dismiss commands outright, no questions asked. Several such outrageous scenes were whispered about in hushed tones.

So whose will, then, was really driving this expedition? And the timing—far too soon. It had only been half a month since they parted ways.

If this continued, they might well face each other on opposite sides of a battlefield by the new year. Despite the layers of clothing she wore, a cold shiver ran down her spine.

But the murmured conversation beside her was far from finished.

“Listen up. The real crazy story starts now,” a man urged, leaning in conspiratorially.

Elise shifted slightly to the right, eager despite herself. The voices grew clearer.

“That day in Norella, they say a radiant dragon appeared. The same mad dragon from seven hundred years ago.”

“What? You’re joking,” scoffed another voice, laced with disbelief.

“No, it’s true. The harbor in Norella—almost as grand as Tentaluna’s—completely collapsed. Some say they clearly saw the form of a dragon amidst the clouds.”

“And so the story goes, the princess left with the dragon. That’s why the Grand Duke was furious to his very roots, losing her right before his eyes.”

A cynical laugh cut through the whispers. “Hah, even if that were true… the dragon was sealed by Gallian over seven centuries ago!”

“Exactly. Which is why there are rumors the child the princess carries isn’t the Grand Duke’s… but the dragon’s.”

A gasp followed. “Good heavens! So the princess enchanted the dragon? I’ve heard she’s beautiful enough to do just that…”

Elise chuckled despite herself, quickly clearing her throat to hide her amusement.

Such utterly bizarre rumors were in circulation.

Should she be grateful, she wondered wryly, that the bewitching woman who supposedly captivated a dragon had now risen to become a peerless beauty who had tamed it?

She pondered with sharp curiosity how the people across Grandel truly saw her.

“But if this keeps up,” one worker muttered, brow furrowed, “won’t it become impossible to predict the outcome of the war? No matter how strong the dragon kin are, can they really match a true radiant dragon?”

“That’s just idle gossip,” another scoffed. “If we send troops to Argan based on mere rumors—and the Grand Duke wipes them out—there’s no way to recover from that.”

“So, which side is our royal family backing? What’s the conscription standard?” a third asked anxiously.

The workers’ chatter drifted back to hopeful prayers they wouldn’t be drafted.

In other words, the entire continent held its breath, waiting to see whether to side with the dragon or the dragon kin.

Elise exhaled deeply, her tense shoulders slumping. She brought her cold hand back to grip her teacup.

“Interesting rumors,” came a strange voice from directly opposite her. “What do you think, Elizabeth?”

Elise lifted her head reluctantly. There, sitting before her, was a strikingly handsome figure—a dragon resting its chin on the back of its hand, regarding her with gentle, knowing eyes.

“Shall I prove that the radiant dragon truly cherishes the princess?” he offered softly.

Within those ordinary hazel eyes glimmered a fierce yellow radiance. Today, he seemed eager to play the part of a young man still fresh and naive.

Since leaving Norella, Sameshita had relentlessly observed Elise without pause. It was common for him to hover near the sailors and strike up casual conversations with her. More than once, she had been startled to find a pair of yellow eyes quietly watching her from shadowed corners.

Knowing she was under constant watch, Elise had spent the first week checking every empty space—even when changing clothes or washing. Since permission to observe her came from him, she had no choice but to remain cautious.

Elise asked reluctantly, her voice tinged with skepticism, “You say you’ll prove it—how exactly?”

Sameshita’s lips curled into a sly smile. “I could show it to the world right now. Though my magnificent form remains sealed deep within the Grenthern Mountains, there are many ways to prove my loyalty without revealing my true self.”

For a moment, Elise’s ears perked up—an incredibly tempting offer.

If word spread across the continent that a dragon freed from its seal was protecting Argan, other nations might hesitate before intervening. Even if Ugel and Van Yela pressed forward, fewer participants in the war would clearly benefit Argan.

But Sameshita wouldn’t do her any favors without expecting something in return. Elise set down her spoon with a sharp clink and narrowed her eyes, suspicion hardening her tone.

“What do you want?”

“Hmm,” he mused, fingers tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I’m starting to think raising a human child wouldn’t be so bad.”

Elise blinked in disbelief. “What?”

“Maybe I should teach you once… like my own child.”

His gaze dropped to her abdomen, hidden beneath layers of thick clothing. Though she wore them to conceal her figure, she felt as if his eyes were clawing beneath her skin.

“It’s fascinating…” he murmured, savoring the secret.

“If I feed it a bit of my power, wouldn’t it follow me as its father? I don’t think Rezette ever really grew fond of that.”

Just as Elise expected, irritation flared. She suppressed it and snapped back, “Don’t hold your breath. That’ll never happen.”

“It’s not like we aren’t related. Strictly speaking, half the blood flowing in that child’s veins is mine—my bloodline, born from the human descendant I loved. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“So you actually intend to act like a father? By that logic, all humans are family if you trace far enough back.”

“But I’m curious,” he said softly, eyes distant. “I’ve been quietly imagining what it would have been like if I had borne a child according to Gallian’s will. Whether the child would have been as dear to me as to you.”

“Feel free to imagine,” Elise shot back, voice sharp, “but don’t put me in that picture.”

Hadn’t Rezette warned her repeatedly of Sameshita?

Elise’s mind raced. What she once thought nonsense now felt less like paranoia—and more like an undeniable truth.

Elise pressed a hand to her throbbing forehead. There was no time to entertain the dragon’s nonsense.

At the neighboring table, the conversation had taken a darker turn, growing louder with each voice added to the heated debate over just how ruthless and blood-soaked the famed dragon kin of Van Yela truly were.

“More frightening than a dragon without form,” one man muttered grimly, “is a murderer with a glorious past. Not that it’s something I should say as a Southerner, but if I had to be drafted, I’d choose the North side any day.”

“That’s terrifying,” another replied, his voice low and tense. “They say once he’s consumed by madness, he even throws away his sword. The battlefield becomes his playground then—a place for him to run wild.”

Hearing strangers speak so casually—and so fearfully—about Rezette left Elise shaken.

An overwhelming dread coiled in her chest. Just imagining him standing atop a field of blood and Arganians’ corpses sent a cold shiver racing down her spine.

The image of that monstrous right arm, the one she first saw at the ruined port of Norella, surged back with brutal clarity. Her imagination spiraled toward the worst, and she found herself unable to stop it.

She knew, instinctively and irrevocably: Rezette’s very existence could tip the scales. He was a force of nature capable of shattering the balance of power and redirecting the course of the entire war.

If he truly set his mind to it, every battle he led would be an assured victory.

Which meant utter defeat for everyone else.

He must be planning something.

Surely he wasn’t intending to return with an army simply to seize her by force. He couldn’t be that foolish—not when he knew better than anyone that if he did, she would never offer him even the briefest glance for the rest of her life.

Still, Elise clung to hope. She remembered the look in his eyes when he had once confessed his love for her—raw, unguarded, and real. That memory was a lifeline she refused to sever.

But she couldn’t afford to linger in sentimentality.

While she and the Arganians crossed the ocean in fragile peace, the fuse of the Second Continental War had already been lit.

She had to reach Andrei before Ughel’s army launched its full-scale invasion of Regal.

It had been less than a year since Andrei and Duke Bellator disappeared into hiding within the Kingdom of Regal to regroup. Their survival—Regal’s survival—had rested not on manpower, but on something more elusive: transcendent magical force.

Yet the luxury of time had vanished.

There would be no six-month grace period to see her pregnancy through. No quiet waiting.

The moment she arrived in Riosa, she would have to be ready for war.

She would have to endure the rest of her pregnancy borrowing strength from Andrei’s magic alone.

Elise glanced down at her trembling fingers, then tightened them into a fist.

Can I do it?

“Your order is ready!”

An attendant rushed over, expertly balancing several steaming dishes along his arm. With practiced care, he set them down one by one on the table. The warm, savory aroma of sauce and oil drifted up, snapping Elise out of her haze like a slap to the senses.

Eat first. If I want to live, I have to eat.

She had told Rezette—boldly, perhaps recklessly—that she wouldn’t die. That she refused to die. And if the next news he heard upon arriving in the South was of her death… and the child’s?

The fallout would be swift. Predictable. Catastrophic.

With an army at his back and rage in his heart, the Western Grandel region could vanish from the map before the sun even set.

But that fate wouldn’t come to pass. Not if she held out.

Elise steadied her breathing, letting the scent of food calm her frayed nerves. She wasn’t just relying on hope. She had strength. Real strength—vast magical power, enough that even the progenitor dragon had acknowledged it with a flicker of awe.

She had no intention of going quietly.

As long as I hold out. Just me. I can do this.

Repeating it like a sacred mantra, she picked up her utensils and forced herself to eat. Bite after bite, she drew her strength back from the edge. When she was done, she carefully tucked the small glass jar of cherry compote into her clothes, as if safeguarding a precious charm.

Behind her, someone scoffed.

“Hmph. Such stubbornness,” the dragon muttered, clicking his tongue in mild irritation as he watched Elise disappear without so much as a glance back.

Left alone at the table, he rested his chin on his palm and exhaled through his nose, bemused.

She was foolish—no other word for it. If she simply understood her place and made a few intelligent compromises with reality, she could have survived far longer. Thrived, even.

He would’ve given her anything she asked for.

It had been ages—centuries, perhaps—since something had piqued his interest enough to make him forget the relentless call of his instincts. Of destruction. Of domination.

But Elise…

Elise was different.

Her emotions were raw, shifting, and entirely unpredictable. Entertaining, yes—but more than that, they were fascinating. And what captured his attention now even more than the woman herself was the life quietly growing inside her.

A fragile life. A flickering flame of potential.

He had created many children over the years, scattering his seed across bloodlines like a careless storm. None had held his interest for long.

But this one… this one was different.

So quiet. So still. So gentle.

The fetus nestled in Elise’s womb radiated a peace unlike any other. It didn’t snarl or stir like the others. It didn’t bear the usual volatile energy of dragon kin.

Typically, a dragon-born child, once stabilized in the womb, would begin to shift—taking on a hybrid form somewhere between beast and man.

But this one… this one slumbered like a human child. Docile. Undisturbed.