The Foreigner on the Periphery

The Ancient Dragon Raymond Wong woke from a terrible nightmare.

He lay in his lair beneath a mansion that had been half-destroyed not long ago.

‘...What was I dreaming about?’

His energy was sapped, and his entire body felt heavy. The Elder Dragon soon gave up trying to recall the memory. This had been happening frequently lately. His joints ached, and his scales felt uncomfortably loose. It was a struggle to move a single finger.

“Lord Raymond.”

A voice called from outside the door; someone had noticed he was awake.

“Come in.”

The butler hesitantly showed his face. After being drenched in the rain of dragon blood their employer had scattered recently, most of the staff had called in sick. Those remaining to assist were almost entirely human.

Raymond looked just as unwell as the employees who couldn't come to work. In a bedroom scaled for a dragon's true form, the Lightning Dragon lay slumped in a coil. The secretary carefully reported.

“Tell him that I and all the dragons who support me agree with Jenkinson's opinion, and we will entrust him with our voting rights regarding the new schedule.”

A brief silence fell. The butler was flustered by Raymond's tone, which sounded as though he were reciting a rehearsed script, and appalled by the message itself.

“Um... I was just wondering if I misheard you...”

The Ancient Dragon snapped in anger. He was dead tired and completely drained of strength; having the man drag out the conversation only fueled his irritation.

“Don't make me say it twice. Get out!”

“Y-yes, sir!”

The butler retreated in terror. Normally, messages between Ancient Dragons were delivered personally, never entrusted to others. That held especially true for matters of such immense importance.

But Raymond truly lacked the strength to do so. He weakly lowered his head, resting it atop his coiled body.

Though neither the butler nor Raymond himself could see it, his life force was depleted to an un-dragon-like degree. It hovered precariously close to rock bottom.

It had diminished by a bizarrely massive amount during the short time he was asleep.

Furthermore, a portion of his memory right before he started dreaming had vanished, as if cleanly sliced away. The Ancient Dragon felt a brief flicker of confusion, but quickly forgot his curiosity.

He focused inward. His energy was failing, yet strangely, he wasn't hungry. It was a bizarre state—his stomach felt full, but his strength kept draining away.

He muttered to himself.

‘I can't hold on. I need to sleep again.’

The Ancient Dragon closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

Once again, he had a nightmare. Black fog swarmed from all directions, sharpening into blades that relentlessly stabbed into his body. Blood poured endlessly from the wounds, filling the lair until it formed a crimson lake.

Within the dream, the dragon screamed a silent scream.

*

The wind tore past. Searching for a stray dragon, he raced through the sky on Adkiel's back. The earth below flowed past like a rushing river. Not a single cloud marred the sky. The sunset-tinged forest rushed toward him at exhilarating speed before falling away behind them.

‘Where on earth is it?’

The identification tag embedded in the creature's body wasn't responding to the livestock management system. It was a chronic issue with products powered by magic batteries. Of all the times for the power to die, it had to be now.

Ultimately, he had to resort to primitive methods. While flying, he repeatedly cast tracking magic, blanketing the area in all directions to backtrack the creature's path. It was a tedious, repetitive task, and the magic consumption was immense. It would be nice if a single spell could cover the entire planet, but that was still purely the realm of fantasy.

‘I need to improve the identification tags. I should probably start by changing the material. The power supply method, too.’

While dedicating part of his consciousness to searching for the dragon, he simultaneously pondered the direction of the system's development.

‘Instead of embedding metallic foreign objects like we do now, it would be better to replace the tag itself with organic matter. Not just for basic tracking, but to verify the livestock's history. So the information updates automatically. That would make management much easier. For example...’

He soon devised the most suitable model.

‘Right, what if I just mix it into their blood? Rather than an identification tag... it would be an identification fluid. The power source could be replaced by the dragon's own life force. Then it would never turn off.’

It was a thought born out of frustration over the highly difficult task of finding a single dragon deep in the mountains, but the idea was gradually taking concrete shape.

Of course, it was still just an idea, and he lacked the technical skills to make it a reality. But he knew that all improvements started this way. It seemed like a thought worth developing further.

‘Hm?’

His musings on improving the livestock identification tags, which had occupied him for quite a while as he cut through the air, were momentarily cut short.

‘This direction...’

He refocused on his original goal of tracking the stray dragon. The path led to an unexpected location.

‘Wait, this guy...?’

He clicked his tongue.

‘There's nothing to eat around here. Why did it come this way?’

He double-checked, but there was no room for doubt. The dragon's trail led directly to the place where he had laid his late master to rest. It was an unimaginable destination.

“Seems to be roughly in this area.”

He reached down to scratch Adkiel's jaw and gave a direction.

“Let's land here first and search on foot.”

“Grrr!”

Growling in agreement, Adkiel lowered their altitude.

The sun was already setting when they departed, so the surroundings had grown quite dark. He dismounted the dragon and planted both feet on the ground.

“Where did you go, you rascal...”

He walked through the deep forest, searching alongside Adkiel. The Gold Dragon seemed thrilled to have a rare walk alone with its master. It dashed ahead and looked back to hurry him along, or conversely, let him take the lead while leisurely following behind, sniffing the surroundings. Several times, it rubbed its tail against his shoulder for attention.

“...!”

Suddenly, Adkiel stopped in its tracks. The atmosphere swirling in its eyes shifted in an instant.

“Grrrrrr!”

Even before the Gold Dragon glared at a specific spot and began to growl, he already knew what was there. Having grasped it beforehand, he had intentionally planned to detour around this area.

In front of them was something resembling a patch of ordinary weeds. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. But he and Adkiel were focused on what lay beneath it.

Finding the lost livestock was important, but now that he had seen it, he couldn't just pass by. He parted his lips. Magic flowed like heavy water.

Swoosh!

An invisible force raked the earth. A harsh noise echoed through the forest. Unseen claws tore into the ground, digging to a uniform depth before lifting the soil. Weed roots and clumps of dirt scattered into the sky. A few heavy rocks were also sent flying.

The earth's inner flesh was laid bare. Hiding in the soft soil was...

Squirm! Squirm!

“Krah!”

The dragon barked with hostile intent.

“Ugh.”

Unable to hide his disgust, he furrowed his brow.

The excavated ground resembled a snake pit. But the creatures writhing in tangles of thousands had long bodies covered in brown fur instead of scales. Accustomed to living in the dark, the creatures flailed in panic. This was due to the sunlight, which, despite it being dusk, hadn't completely lost its strength.

“So the Kavites had a burrow dug out in a place like this.”

It was too close to the pastures. Wandering dragons searching for food might accidentally disturb it and get bitten. He decided to clear it out before moving on.

The method would be the same as usual. They were weak to the cold, so he would rapid-freeze them and then shatter them. He aimed his hand. He intended to freeze the creatures frantically thrashing and coiled around each other like balls of yarn. Just like always.

There would be no pain in the process. They would freeze solid before they even noticed the drop in temperature.

‘Even if they are harmful beasts, you must not slaughter them cruelly. It's best to send them off as painlessly as possible. And... exterminating them completely out of convenience is something you must weigh very carefully.’

A nostalgic voice lingered in his ears.

From what he'd heard, when his master developed this ranch, he had been plagued by a creature called the Logras. They were flying beasts sporting transparent wings on their backs and sharp spines on their snouts. Due to the harm they caused the dragons, his master had hunted down and killed every last one of them. He had heard the story until his ears bled—about how that had collapsed the planet's ecological balance, causing them to suffer for quite some time.

Therefore, his master hadn't exterminated the next most harmful pests, the Kavites, and he was carrying on that will.

To him and the dragons, they were utterly useless creatures, but they were likely contributing something to the planet's overall ecosystem.

However, it was right to kill the ones near the pastures on sight.

With just one spell... all of them would pass on peacefully, without pain...

Crunch!

Despite repeating that to himself...

‘Huh?’

The moment he came to his senses, an even more sickening, raw stench pierced his nose. He cast his gaze downward. At some point, his foot had moved and was stomping on a clump of Kavites. Their long bodies had burst, spilling organs and soaking his shoes in bodily fluids.

“Kyaaaaah! Kyaaaaaah!”

Feeling threatened, the Kavites opened their snouts and attacked his leg. But they couldn't pierce his protective gear. Expressionless, he swung his hand. Following its trajectory, an invisible blade slashed the earth.

Thud!

The beasts were chopped to pieces and launched into the air. Even cut into five pieces, the creatures didn't die. They sloshed bodily fluids as they crawled along the ground, still alive.

And then he saw it. Much like protozoa, the severed pieces were showing signs of slowly regenerating. That fact thoroughly displeased him.

If they didn't die from being cut into five pieces...

Then he just had to mince them finer.

He couldn't understand what he was doing. No matter how much of a pest they were, there was no need to slaughter them so cruelly. Nevertheless, he couldn't suppress the pulsating urge. Peering into that emotion for a long moment, he was able to identify it a beat late.

Rage.

A boiling rage that he simply couldn't cool down or ignore.

It was different from usual. He didn't know the reason. He absolutely could not grant those miserable bastards a peaceful death. He wanted to torture them in the most brutal way possible. To inflict the most wretched agony their nervous systems would allow.

Whirrrrr!

Power spun in the empty air. It was a structure composed of tiny, rapidly swirling blades. He slowly lowered the hovering manifestation. The wild beasts still lunged at him tenaciously, but it was useless.

Grrrnd!

Thick chunks of flesh and clots of blood splattered everywhere. The magic-formed blender took the shape of a sphere. It rolled over the swarm of Kavites like a ball. Along its path, the Kavites were ground up and sprayed out.

He muttered.

“Not enough. It's still not enough.”

“More... more brutally.”

“Compared to what I... what we suffered, this is...”

“...?!”

Fwoosh!

A heat that felt like it would roast his cheeks.

His mind, which had fallen into a trance, snapped back to reality. He turned his head.

Adkiel was facing off against the Kavites. Dragons didn't naturally eat such disgusting creatures. But seeing Minjun's actions, it seemed to think it needed to help.

However, there were far, far too many beasts. Adkiel was panicking. It was so desperate that it even resorted to breathing fire, something its master strictly forbade.

‘That little...!’

His mind completely returned to normal. And he was startled by the scene unfolding before his eyes.

Many owners surgically removed the flame-emitting nodules inside a Fire Dragon's throat, but his master and he were opposed to such cruel, human-centric practices. Therefore, Adkiel could still breathe fire, but it usually suppressed the urge very well.

In a crisis like this, however, instinct raced ahead.

‘It could start a forest fire at this rate!’

A forest fire.

It was the worst disaster he could imagine as a dragon herder.

At that moment, a Kavite launched itself vigorously into the air. Aiming for the Fire Dragon's blind spot, it latched onto its nape, sinking its snout in. Adkiel's eyes bulged. The Kavite's body, which had been like a thin whip, instantly swelled up plumply. It was an astonishing speed.

“Kyararara!”

Screaming as if it were dying, Adkiel thrashed wildly and spewed fire in all directions. Before that fireworks show could burn the primeval forest to the ground, he reached out his hand.

Rip!

Adkiel lost a single scale. Alongside the screaming dragon, the Kavite that had bitten into its neck was torn to shreds. Thud! The pieces falling to the ground were mixed with bright red blood in addition to the creature's natural green fluids.

‘It sucked a lot of blood in such a short time!’

He felt extreme annoyance and anger. However, this anger was slightly different from what had been burning in his mind just a moment ago. If he had to measure it, this was anger anchored in the realm of reason. He barely managed to shake off the impulse to slowly slice the Kavites over a long period.

Ultimately, a few minutes later, he completely exterminated the Kavites.

There were no living pests left. Not even a squirming piece could be seen.

“Whimper!”

Tears welling in its large eyes, Adkiel approached. Whining that it was hurt, it presented its nape, asking him to take a look.

He clicked his tongue. What a crybaby.

He pulled some medicine from his subspace and applied it. And when he scratched its nape, it immediately began to purr happily, as if it had never been crying at all.

Gently pushing the creature aside for a moment, he cleaned up the remains of the Kavites and thought to himself.

‘Their aggression is gradually getting worse. Now, the moment they see a dragon, they go straight for its blood. Would it be better to just wipe them all out and drive them to extinction?’

If he'd been in his previous state of mind, he might have made that decision. But he had already regained his reason.

‘Let's leave that as a backup plan for now. However, it's clear they've reached a stage where I can no longer overlook them.’

The economic loss from the bloodsucking was negligible. However, his pride as a dragon herder was on the line. He could not tolerate some random wild beast coveting the blood of the livestock he raised.

And while it was fine now, it could spawn new problems if a long time passed.

He pulled a previously planned task from the drawer of his memory and turned it over in his mind.

‘Rather than committing genocide just because there's a problem, it would be better to eliminate the root cause of the problem.’

The best solution was to make it so those pests no longer had any need to target dragons.

Or to be exact, dragon blood.

‘What if I alter dragon blood so those Kavite bastards can't drink it?’

His thought expanded further.

‘No, not just the Kavites...’

Into something that no one... except his own kind, could consume.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!