The Foreigner on the Periphery

There is no dragon in the world that does not deserve respect.

That was the long-held belief of the Ancient Dragon, Jenkinson.

One might argue he was no different from other dragons crying out about the nobility of their race, but Jenkinson's case was slightly different.

While the vast majority of dragons preached the superiority of the Dragon Race, his belief leaned closer to the idea that all sentient beings deserved respect—and therefore, dragons should be treated as such.

However, the results of his actions were not doled out equally. He did not exert the same effort to defend all races. Just as human organizations worked for human interests, he had a duty to represent the interests of dragons, and he rarely hesitated in making those choices.

Therefore, when a dragon brooding an egg was in danger, it was only right to help them first. Normally, he wouldn't have hesitated.

That is, if he hadn't heard the news about Minjun.

Agonizing over the dilemma, Jenkinson turned to his usual method for making a final decision. Unlike his kin, who brimmed with baseless confidence, he was a dragon who meticulously weighed every step. So, he reviewed the worst-case scenario.

'What if this is a situation I can't resolve, even if I step in?'

First, he asked himself who else would step up to save Minjun. The answer came quickly: no dragon would do that. Even among the members of the Dragon Race who supported him, casting a vote in an election and sticking their hands into a danger an Ancient Dragon couldn't resolve alone were two completely different things.

Then, what about saving Inais? This time, too, the answer was obvious: no dragon would do that, either. With Rod's seat currently vacant, none of her kin would step up for her. Dragons were just that sort of breed. Rather, some would welcome her plight. They would prefer the unhatched child simply die and vanish.

'But.'

Jenkinson repeated to himself.

What about someone other than a dragon?

'There is no dragon who will help Inais. But there is someone from another race who might.'

If Jenkinson asked for help rescuing Inais, he knew a friend who would lend a hand, even while grumbling.

Someone who would sarcastically ask if he was going to increase his debt when he hadn't even paid off what he already owed—but who would help him in the end.

'I don't know what kind of situation he's in right now, but if it's not as serious as I thought... if that friend still has some fight left in him, I can ask him to help Inais after his own situation is cleared up.'

Unlike the brooding dragon, Minjun would help if the situation allowed, using an appropriate price as an excuse. He wouldn't do it because he cared for her, but because it was Jenkinson's request. Just like he had stepped up several times already—including the Edelinis and Jang Tae-jun case, the Lair theft incident, and the Changcheon matter.

Inais's condition could worsen in the meantime, but without knowing the current situation, he had no choice but to take a gamble.

'I'll check on Minjun first.'

Jenkinson had built centuries of trust with him. That was why he believed in his own judgment.

-Flash!

With a burst of light, his figure vanished.

*

Amidst a burning thirst, Minjun was fumbling through the memories of the specters.

The darkness wrapping around him still undulated. However, the wound on his nape had closed, and its contents no longer leaked from it.

As he rummaged through the minds of the dead Todds, he seemed to realize something.

"...!"

His eyes snapped wide open. He whipped his head around. The Spatial Condensation had already been undone. What isolated this space from the outside wasn't Endelion's Magic Tool, but the darkness Minjun himself had unleashed.

He felt something beyond the barrier. Something that hadn't been nearby was drawing close.

What washed over Minjun upon realizing this was a sensation like warmth soaking into frozen earth. It felt as though vitality was rushing back into his frozen cells. Unable to hide his euphoria, his cheeks pulled back to bare his teeth.

Minjun laughed in excitement.

"...Dragon scent!"

*

Jenkinson was bewildered.

"...What in the world is this?"

In his urgency, he had appeared in the middle of downtown Seoul in his true form as an Ancient Dragon. It was right where Minjun's Shop was located. The police and soldiers, already urgently evacuating citizens due to the bizarre phenomenon, freaked out at the sudden appearance of the Ancient Dragon. They had no idea the dragon was just as startled as they were.

"A shadow monster?"

The source felt similar, but something was different.

It was a much deeper, denser darkness.

The black substance surrounding Minjun's Shop formed a hemisphere, swallowing the area in all directions. It was so oppressive that even Jenkinson, an Ancient Dragon, hesitated to enter.

Right then.

"...?!"

Whoosh!

Like a sudden high tide, the darkness surged outward. And Jenkinson...

"Urgh!"

Without even a moment to flee, he was trapped inside the darkness.

Soon after, his senses flickered in confusion. It was a bizarre phenomenon he had never seen or heard of in his entire two-thousand-year life. Tense, his mind spun rapidly.

'This is similar to the shadow monsters. Then is this magic cast by Minjun, not an enemy? I've never seen an incantation like this before. Does this mean the situation was that dangerous? Is the enemy inside here too? But to drag even me in... He must be asking for help!'

Minjun was in danger and needed Jenkinson's help. If Minjun was the one controlling the darkness, the Ancient Dragon couldn't think of any other reason for dragging him inside.

He carefully chanted a communication spell.

=Minjun, where are you? I'll help you!=

The answer returned in an unexpected way.

"Ah, Minjun!"

It was a bizarre sensation. The darkness was still writhing and filling the surroundings, but Minjun had suddenly appeared from within it. It was a face Jenkinson knew well. The expression, however, was not.

"...Minjun?"

he asked cautiously.

"Are you alright?"

For Minjun, hacking off his own arm to kick off a brawl was standard practice, but outwardly, he had no visible injuries. It was surprising, considering he had conjured such a large-scale incantation.

"You aren't hurt anywhere?"

Minjun answered calmly.

"I was, but I've healed it all."

"Ah, I see. If you regenerated that quickly, it couldn't have been a major injury."

Jenkinson was genuinely relieved. It seemed nothing was terribly wrong with his friend.

"What in the world happened? Who attacked you?"

A strange light flashed in Minjun's eyes.

"They were nothing you need to worry about. I've already taken care of them."

Jenkinson felt puzzled. If they were enemies who could be dismissed so easily, had a faction of dark mages holding a grudge against Minjun shown up? They must not have valued their lives. Their attack could practically be written off as a new method of suicide.

The massive Dark Magic wrapping the surroundings might have been a measure to deal with other dark mages. Jenkinson recalled that a dark mage who reached the Master Level could absorb the Dark Magic Power of other mages. It was an incantation Minjun didn't prefer, but there must have been a reason he'd had to use it.

Having confirmed his friend's safety, the dragon's other business flashed through his mind like lightning. He had no time to delay. The Ancient Dragon checked one last time.

"Are you truly alright?"

Hearing those words, Minjun looked at Jenkinson with a bizarre expression. Then, he gave a slight nod.

His persistent gaze swept over the massive true body of the Fire Dragon. Shifting his gaze toward the head, their eyes met. He repeated inwardly.

A dragon... just about two thousand years old.

His throat burned.

"That's a relief. Phew, you have no idea how worried I was."

A voice laced with relief.

The dragon's purring delighted Minjun's ears. It sounded like beautiful music. Nostalgia surged up within him.

Longed-for days.

He missed those days when he lived peacefully, hunting dragons.

"These shadow-monster-like things around here, you summoned them all, right?"

He missed those days when he lived peacefully, catching dragons.

"I thought so. Thank goodness, that's really a relief. Uh... by the way."

Minjun stared at the dragon's Adam's apple, watching it bob every time Jenkinson spoke. He missed the moist flesh hidden beneath, which would be revealed if he tore off just one of those scales. He knew exactly which scales to tear off for drawing the most blood.

He took a step. He approached Jenkinson. Hunger writhed in his guts—an unbearable emptiness. A pulsating urge pressed down on his throat, and an unshakeable thirst rattled his mind.

"You know Inais, right? The jungle where her Lair is located is burning for an unknown reason. Since communication is impossible, I can't confirm what's happening."

He stared at the wriggling muscle. Gulp. He swallowed dry saliva. Exactly twenty-five centimeters was enough to reach the carotid artery. Piercing to just that depth would hit the vigorously pulsating blood vessel. The image of pouring, warm fresh blood lingered on the tip of his tongue like a mirage.

Minjun wanted it.

In this moment, more desperately than anything else.

"As you know, I'm not in a position to ask the other dragons for help. If Rod, her partner and the father of her child, were alive, things would be different... Furthermore, since that seat is vacant, there is no one left to exercise coercive power."

Minjun tilted his head. It felt awkward and strange. A dragon speaking so fluently.

"So, if you could please..."

Did a dragon need such language abilities?

No, they didn't.

The moment he decided that.

"...!"

The darkness Jenkinson had inhaled so far finally exerted its power. It took only an instant for the Ancient Dragon's eyes to blur over.

Minjun spoke.

"Now, come here."

Swish!

Bereft of reason, the Ancient Dragon lowered his body flat. His massive frame moved smoothly. He laid his elongated neck down in front of Minjun. Resting his head on the ground, he gently closed his eyes as if preparing for a comfortable sleep.

A defenseless nape.

Minjun reached out. The blood in his veins felt like it was boiling. This thirst had slowly created cracks within him, threatening to shatter his sanity to pieces. It was time to quench it. The prize was right in front of him. Craving dragon's blood and meat, ready to carve up the beast's body at any second, Minjun stretched out his hand.

Just then, a voice whispered from within him.

'Originally, there were no talking dragons in the world.'

Minjun knew the identity of the voice. It was his other half—the one he had negotiated with regarding the disposition of the Todds just moments ago. He retorted bluntly.

'Right, and why weren't there any? Because there was no need.'

'But they speak now, don't they? They've acquired sophisticated language skills that prove their cognitive abilities.'

'What are you trying to say?'

It was like pouring cold water on a roaring fire. Minjun tried his best to ignore the voice, but his counterpart did not bend their argument. The voice spoke with emphasis.

'Dragons have already gained sentience.'

'Yeah, a sentience that can be taken away far too easily.'

'And a sentience that's practically the same as what we gave back.'

'If sentience is considered an ability, it's an incredibly precarious one. We have the power to strip dragons of their sentience, to breed them, and to butcher them. We eat them because we have the ability to eat them, so what's the problem?'

The voice countered.

'They are already sentient beings.'

Minjun felt irritation surging up.

'Where exactly are you setting the standard for sentience? You're telling me I shouldn't eat them just because they have the ability to think? Because they possess enough sentience to converse with us? Then are you going to condemn a lion sinking its teeth into a water buffalo's neck, too? The intellectual level of those two creatures is virtually identical. It's things with similar sentience eating each other. Isn't that truly horrific?'

'That's just wordplay, and sophistry.'

'Is it perhaps for another reason? Then you should also condemn the Orcs for eating pigs. Are you going to stop the phenomenon of two genetically close species being divided into predator and prey due to differences in intelligence and ability? The intelligence gap between an Orc and a pig is practically comparable to the gap between a pig and a cockroach. If we keep lowering the bar like this, we'll have to look out for the survival rights of amoebas next.'

'Don't deflect with nonsensical logic just because you're displeased. You're angry right now. Simply because I'm stopping you from eating what you want to eat.'

'Because you keep trying to compromise.'

'Then how about this?' the voice presented a different argument.

'What?'

'You already swore an oath to yourself. That you wouldn't eat Jenkinson. And that you would find a reason why you shouldn't eat dragons from now on.'

'...'

Minjun realized why he was so incredibly angry.

It was because he had already made up his mind.

His head felt like it was going to explode from the urge to quench his thirst with dragon's blood, but he knew he had shackled himself.

The voice pressed on.

'The words of a noble one should not be treated so lightly. Even if it is a promise to yourself.'

'First you persuade me not to judge the superiority and inferiority of sentience, and now you urge me not to eat by putting forward the superiority of my status.'

'Is that so? Then how about this. Think back. What happened the last time you broke an oath? You swore you would never reveal the place where our kin sleep to anyone. But you broke it. Think about what happened as a result.'

'Damn it!'

In the end, Minjun had no choice but to admit defeat. It would have ended the same way even if he had ignored the nonsense the voice spouted, because a firm conviction was already coiled up inside his head. There was no need to invent any more excuses. The reason was already inside him.

He couldn't eat him.

At the very least, he couldn't eat Jenkinson.

He didn't yet have a clear plan on what to do with the Dragon Race in the future, because he hadn't yet found a reason not to eat all of them. But for now, he focused on the present. At the very least, he couldn't bite out Jenkinson's neck right here, right now.

"...So about that, could you help out a bit? To save Inais."

Jenkinson hadn't felt the gap in his consciousness.

Toward the Ancient Dragon who had regained his reason and was looking at him expectantly, Minjun replied in a slightly twisted tone.

"...Yeah, I'll help you."

The Ancient Dragon's face brightened.

"Ah! Thank you so much. As the price for this matter, I'll give you Talents..."

"I know the coordinates. I'll go alone."

The Ancient Dragon put on an incomprehensible expression.

"No, there's no need for that! It's a problem of the Dragon Race, so I should naturally go together..."

"If you get tangled up with the bastards over there, even you won't be safe. It'll just be a headache."

"What? Then are you saying... you already know what's going on over there?"

Instead of answering, Minjun fiddled with the Magic Tool in his hand.

Give him Talents?

"And I don't need any payment."

In that instant, Jenkinson roared.

"Who are you?!"

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