The Foreigner on the Periphery

There was no such thing as a poor-quality dragon.

There were only dragons whose quality would improve over time.

Time determined a dragon's quality. Even a dragon born deformed could become an awe-inspiring jewel if raised long enough. Of course, the process of raising them to that point was so grueling that they were usually culled before hatching.

"Remember. There are no bad dragons in the world."

Looking at the Dragon Lord's corpse, Minjun recalled the aphorism his master had taught him long ago.

His feelings were complicated.

"..."

He touched his lips without realizing it. He felt thirsty.

It certainly is overwhelming.

Dragons grew stronger as they aged, and the value of their bodies increased in proportion to their years.

And the dragon before his eyes had held the title of the oldest on Earth until he breathed his last.

Being excessively thin is a flaw, but the quality is top-tier. I can tell just by looking at the bone structure. Who was the craftsman in charge of breeding this line? It's a skill worthy of applause.

The magnificent sight that awaited a handspan beneath those golden scales flickered before his eyes like an illusion.

At that age, every part of the dragon would be of the highest grade. He could guarantee it.

Another of his master's aphorisms rang in his ears like an auditory hallucination.

"And remember this, too. A dragon has no parts to throw away."

A beast that gave generously.

He imagined it. Muscle fibers that, if properly prepared, would demonstrate elasticity equal to magical metals. Bones that would not burn even if thrown into hellfire. Blood that would serve as the ultimate catalyst without any additional processing, and meat that was an indispensable staple for their race.

And, surpassing all of that... the Dragon Heart.

Thump, thump!

His heart pounded.

Raising a single dragon for that long is a difficult task.

His hands were itching. His sense of duty and challenge as a craftsman burned brightly. He wanted to contribute to the completion of that masterpiece.

I want to get my hands on it.

The urge to debone, portion, and butcher the corpse of that precious Ancient Dragon surged within him.

He could do all the minor tasks by himself.

Flay the skin, sort and stack the scales one by one. Measure the weight, process the internal organs, and wash away the blood without letting a single drop of water touch it. He could do it all with his eyes closed. Reviewing the procedures in his head, he muttered again. Right, I have kept my hands off things like this for too long...

No, wait. What am I thinking about again?!

He inhaled sharply and snapped out of the reverie he had been buried in.

Dangerous. I was almost overwhelmed by the past again.

It was a recurring phenomenon as the rate at which he recovered his memories accelerated.

It would be one thing if it were a reasonably recent memory, but this was a self from far too long ago.

It's an impulse that is of no help right now. I have to suppress it.

The past kept surging forward, trying to swallow the present. It was a good thing that his memories were returning, but he had to suppress desires that didn't suit the current situation.

Because if he laid a hand on the Dragon Lord's corpse right now out of old habits, there would be hell to pay.

Just as he solidified his resolve...

"Lord!"

Another dragon appeared in the sky. Because she had used a Teleport that consumed a massive amount of magic, she appeared in her true form.

Jenkinson recognized her.

"Inais. The Lord's partner."

Since she was still brooding an egg, she was in a position where she absolutely should not move. Thus, it was expected that she would delegate her rights as a guardian to another dragon.

Yet, contrary to everyone's expectations, she had appeared here in person.

A brooding dragon abandoned her egg to come out? It's the instinct of mother dragons to rarely move out of anxiety, even for a Hatchling.

"Lord, Lord!"

The dragon's sorrowful mental waves echoed across the sky. It was a natural reaction, as they had been lovers right up until the end.

Inais grieved to the point of being unable to steady her body. She acted as if she couldn't believe reality.

Seeing that, the expressions of the other dragons naturally grew solemn.

Minjun felt a slight pang of remorse for the thoughts he had entertained just moments ago—the ones primarily related to meat processing.

Jenkinson cleared his throat and spoke.

"Now only one more needs to arrive."

However, that final individual did not appear even after a long time had passed.

"This is far too late."

More time passed, but there was still no news from the final heir.

Eventually, a discussion began among the Ancient Dragons.

"Is there still no response from Taskio?"

"He hasn't gone off-world, but strangely, he isn't answering magic communications. Even so, we can't just invade his Lair."

They couldn't wait for him endlessly. The dragons made a decision. They would proceed with the funeral without Taskio, the young dragon who had not only unilaterally declared his non-attendance at the Balaur Council long ago, but had also failed to respond to several attempts to contact him after the Lord's death.

The first thing to be done was to determine the cause of death. Dividing the Lord's corpse equally would take place afterward.

With everyone's agreement, the dragons who were the second oldest on Earth as of yesterday decided to take on the task.

"We leave it to you two."

The one who stepped forward at the heirs' request was an old man in a Tang suit. He was a conjoined twin with two heads on his shoulders. Two people sharing one body.

To properly cast their magic, they dispelled their Polymorph. Then, a Prism Dragon of the Fey Dragon genus revealed itself. Although they were an Ancient Dragon thousands of years old, even upon returning to their true form, their size was similar to that of a Fire Dragon Hatchling.

True to being a Prism Dragon, their scales glittered in full natural colors depending on the angle of the sunlight. Fluorescent colors that could not be found in normal Earth creatures sparkled in a diverse spectrum ranging from red to purple. Minjun looked at the sight with disapproval. He did not prefer such overly artificial scale colors.

An ornamental dragon, of all things.

If you tamper with genetics too much like that, side effects are bound to arise.

Minjun's gaze fell upon the dragon's shoulders. Aside from the translucent membranous wings characteristic of the Fey Dragon genus, there was another prominent feature. Just like in their human form, the dragon still had two heads.

A twin-headed dragon.

That was originally a type of deformity. But having two heads meant they also had two brains responsible for magic. Conjoined twins sharing senses in that state could construct far more precise magic than other dragons.

The brothers had been recognized for that strength, and thus, instead of being imprisoned in a Lair for their entire lives, they were able to enjoy a normal dragon's life.

Flash!

When the other dragons withdrew their preservation magic, the conjoined twins began examining the Lord's corpse. It was a spell to trace what had led to his death.

The moment the power of that spell seeped beneath the golden scales...

"Th-this?!"

The twin-headed dragon brothers cried out in bewilderment.

It was then.

Flash!

The dragons, who had felt like nothing could surprise them anymore, all felt the blood in their heads run cold at once.

Something inside the already deceased Ancient Dragon was reacting to the spell.

A brilliant light burst forth from the Lord's body.

Something that no one gathered here had detected until now had been crouching inside the corpse.

"Another spell in the corpse?!"

Only after it activated did they recognize the magical fingerprints left on it. It was a spell designed by someone they knew well.

"It's a spell the Lord placed on himself before he died!"

At that moment, a voice echoed in everyone's minds.

"If you are hearing this, it means I am already dead and someone has laid hands on my corpse for the funeral proceedings. I express my gratitude to those who stayed by my side in the end, and I wish to leave a few words to arrange matters after my departure."

As expected, it was a familiar mental wave.

Someone shouted.

"This is a will!"

As if driving a nail in to confirm that guess, a clear meaning flowed next.

"For reference, I declare that this magical message is my sole and final will and testament, taking effect as of this moment."

At that moment, the heirs' complexions grew noticeably pale.

"No, why!"

"Father! To leave a separate will like this without even mentioning it in advance...!"

The young dragons lamenting were the children who had inherited the Lord's blood. On the other hand, the expressions of his ex-wives, who were merely guardians of the heirs and held no direct succession rights, brightened.

Seeing this, the observers clicked their tongues.

"This makes the situation even more complicated."

Originally, it was rare for an Ancient Dragon to leave a will.

This was because this egocentric race rarely cared about the world after their death. Everything only had meaning if they existed, and a world without them was no different from having perished in a subjective sense.

Therefore, the corpse and property of a dragon who died without a will were divided according to the Dragonic Code. Following that ancient customary law, it would be divided equally only among direct descendants.

Everyone present had expected the Lord to do the same. That was why they had waited without any doubts for the heirs to gather.

But that was not the case.

Ding!

While everyone was panicking...

Hmm?

Minjun pulled out his flip phone with a puzzled expression.

By an exquisite coincidence, someone was contacting him while the Ancient Dragon's will echoed in mental waves.

Who is it?

The moment his gaze locked onto the cellphone's display...

...!

Minjun's expression froze.

Meanwhile, the message left by the dead dragon resonated in everyone's minds. It dug in as a complex form of telepathy that was neither spoken nor written language.

"I, the testator Ager-Pishko-Kois-Halekia-Lyubrai-Azel-Azel-Seknat-Kois-Ager (Residence: Los Padres National Park, 6750 Santa Maria, California, United States of America), am a dragon who inherits the honor and will of my great ancestors, and have drafted this will in complete and sound mind. Based on pure personal hopes and wishes unaffected by unjust external pressure, I leave my intentions as follows."

The will began with the Dragon Lord's real name. A name so long that no one ever used it.

It was a typical ancient dragon naming convention. No one named themselves like that these days.

"I confess that while the time I have spent on Earth has been merely a fleeting moment compared to the lifespan of a dragon, the bonds I have accumulated during that time have been neither shallow nor light. Thus, I wish to leave them a modest token of my gratitude."

The heirs, who had been listening with their hearts in their throats, let out faint screams.

The meaning of those words was obvious.

Bonds, not blood ties.

It meant he would leave his inheritance to those who did not share his blood.

.

.

.

"I anticipate there will be those who voice dissatisfaction with this decision. It must be my children, who expected to share the entire inheritance among themselves. If this will has failed to meet those expectations, I ask for your understanding. Instead, my direct descendants shall equally divide and inherit all assets other than those specifically mentioned in this will, so that alone will not be lacking."

"I convey my intentions as follows."

"To Allison (Residence: Los Padres National Park, 6750 Santa Maria, California, United States of America), who has served me for a non-trivial amount of time from an Elf's perspective, I leave 6.5 million dollars in negotiable certificates of deposit and an immigration assurance certificate issued by the Committee. Thank you for everything, Allison. If you submit the immigration certificate to the Committee, they will arrange for your relocation with your desired companion, and settlement funds will be provided separately. May your old age in your homeland be comfortable and cozy."

"To the Bronze Dragon Al-Sahidi of the Sand Dragon genus (Residence: 11564 Riyadh, Israeli-occupied Saudi Arabia), I transfer 5% of my long-term purchase rights for Mana Crystals. May peace come to his territory, which has not escaped turmoil for decades even after the end of the oil era."

"To the Sapphire Dragon Callieter of the Sea Dragon genus (Residence: North Sea, 54.00° N, 8.30° E), I leave the private art museum in Amsterdam. I hope her child will be delighted."

"I leave a fund of 50 million dollars to the Interpol Supernatural Organization Response Team. I hope this money will be fully used to eradicate the Human Rights Alliance. Meanwhile, I hope my decision serves to sound the alarm for some Ancient Dragons. See how much their forces are growing every year as a result of neglecting them just because they aren't a threat in your own territories."

"To Ye Minjun, species unknown (Residence: 9 Saecheonnyeon-ro, Yeongdeungpo-gu, Seoul, South Korea), I bequeath the key to the private vault on West 34th Street, New York City, and everything inside it. Don't consider this an act of spite. It would be best to check what's inside first."

.

.

.

"...!"

Even after that, the will continued to list inheritances left to artist networks, scholarship foundations, international relief organizations, dragons he had built ties with, and other races. However, most were assets whose monetary value could be clearly calculated, and from a dragon's perspective, they were not massive sums that would make their eyes widen.

However, there was exactly one exception.

Someone broke the cold silence.

"Ye Minjun? That's a name I've heard somewhere before."

The one muttering was a young dragon who hadn't even passed a hundred years of age.

"Why would Father give it to him?"

Why, to a member of the Non-Dragon Races of all people... he had left something whose contents could not be guessed.

And because the exact item could not be specified, it left their imaginations to run wild.

Just how precious of a keepsake was it that he hadn't even described it properly in the will?

The air froze. In an instant, Minjun found himself meeting the eyes of the heirs, who were all staring at him.

Their gazes demanded an explanation. At the same time, hostility and anger, along with the bewilderment of feeling stabbed in the back, could be felt. That last emotion was directed at their dead father, but it had mixed with the others and was being projected in the wrong direction.

Murmuring followed.

"Come to think of it, the place the Lord was last seen before he died was..."

It seemed someone among the dragons had witnessed their meeting yesterday.

At that, their gazes grew even sharper. Facing their reaction, Minjun felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

At the same time, he thought.

This is dangerous.

It was dangerous for two reasons.

First, the fact that the heirs gathered here were showing hostility toward him was dangerous.

Therefore, he needed to stay sharp and tense. However, within Minjun's inner self, his two egos were still mixed together and confused. As a result, a part of Minjun couldn't feel any tension at all. His past self didn't consider this situation to be very dangerous. This drifting, unmoored mindset was beyond being unhelpful to the current situation—it was dangerous.

Glare!

Sparks flew in the clear eyes of the dragons.

Minjun had received this kind of gaze several times in the distant past. A gaze that was incredibly angry while simultaneously demanding something from him.

Hostility, anger, a sense of betrayal, resentment, and bewilderment.

"..."

It was the exact same fierce gaze he had experienced whenever he had entered the barn late because he was busy.

Unlike his judgment as a prisoner, the ego anchored in the past remained perfectly nonchalant even after seeing the scene before his eyes. As someone who had run a dragon ranch, he was not the least bit shaken by the dragons' active expressions of emotion.

He merely muttered carelessly on the inside. Completely letting go of his tension, if it were the past, he would have scratched his cheek and said this:

...Is it past feeding time?

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