Chapter 188: Mother of Fire (4)
“Everyone please welcome… Lady Navardose.”
Katir spoke. There wasn’t an immediate burst of cheers. In the silence that lasted for a long time, a murmur began to spread.
“I-Is she really the Mother of Fire? Really?”
“No way, it’s a lie… The principal must be playing a prank.”
“But, the magic circle from earlier was too great for it to not be true!”
The students couldn’t believe the fact that she was Navardose herself. However, Katir’s words were too bold to be a lie. Though those who reign over the world often become the subject of jokes, it was usually confined to private settings.
Above all, they remembered the massive dragon’s head that had torn through the magic circle and appeared. The mana storm that seemed capable of sweeping away even souls. The woman who was gazing at the chaotic central square opened her mouth.
【I am Navardose. It’s nice to meet you all.】
“……!”
At that moment, doubts vanished from people’s hearts. It was a voice that mortal vocal cords could never produce.
Silence fell once again. However, it was a silence inflated like a balloon on the brink of bursting. Before long, the eruption of cheers shook Philleon.
****
“Well then, let me introduce you to the seniors who will be closest to you at the academy.”
“Woah! Welcome, freshmen!”
“If you’re in the martial arts department, please join the armored combat club!”
The entrance ceremony proceeded smoothly. Once the students realized that there was no hostility from Navardose, they quickly regained their characteristic innocence.
Despite the unforeseen event, Katir managed to handle the situation and lead the event. Of course, whenever there was a moment of relaxation, he would glance at Navardose and inquire about her well-being.
“You’ve endured quite a journey from Adren to here. Are you feeling comfortable in your seat?”
The principal of Philleon Academy seemed more like a friendly restaurant server than anything else. Well, who wouldn’t act that way in front of the Mother of Fire? Navardose nodded.
【It’s okay. Don’t worry and please proceed.】
Expressing his gratitude, Katir returned to the podium. A speech followed, somewhat cliché but generally acceptable in content. Meanwhile, Ronan continued to stare at Navardose. The fact that she had disappeared and reappeared briefly bothered him.
‘Something must have happened.’
Though subtle, signs of fatigue were evident. There were faint scratches on the surface of the horns growing on either side of her head, not visible the night before.
Most importantly, Itargand’s worried gaze towards Navardose hinted that something was amiss. It seemed somehow related to the ‘attacks’ she mentioned the night before.
‘Is there some entity or force opposing Navardose? Who could it be?’
He pondered, but no answers came. Eventually deciding to ask later, Ronan glanced slightly downward from her face. Despite seeing her several times, he couldn’t help but mutter in awe.
“…I wish I had a dragon mom too.”
“Hmm? What did you just say?”
“Nothing.”
Ronan shook his head, his gaze fixed on Navardose’s chest. Even though she was wrapped in a robe, her curves seemed extraordinary.
‘Itargand, you damn bastard.’
Navirose and Marya were impressive enough, but she was on a whole different level, beyond his ability to articulate. Perhaps it was the gap resulting from differences in their races. Maybe they were developed for holding flames.
If the person sitting next to him hadn’t been the Emperor ruling the Empire, he would have risen from his seat and given a standing ovation. If her dress had been any more revealing, even standing would have been difficult. Then, the Emperor, who had been stroking his chin, spoke up.
“Yeah. I find myself admiring him every time I see her.”
The Emperor murmured, sounding deeply empathetic. His brief glance demanded implicit agreement. It was evident that he and Ronan were looking at the same thing.
‘This old man is quite something.’
Ronan chuckled dryly. Both of them nodded approvingly at each other before turning their gaze back to Navardose. Ronan spoke up.
“Of course, I was referring to the size of her mana.”
“Of course. I can’t imagine anything else.”
“Anything else? For example?”
“…Oh, look over there. It seems we’re nearing the end, what else could be planned.”
The Emperor, subtly ignoring Ronan’s words, extended his index finger, pointing towards Katir. Indeed, something big seemed to be brewing.
“Enough with the dull speeches… Let’s move on to what everyone is expecting, shall we?”
The students cheered. They seemed to anticipate something big. As Katir gestured, the entire central square began to tremble and shift. The ground rose and sank repeatedly until the once flat central square was transformed into a massive circular arena. Katir spoke.
“Now, let’s proceed with the Philleon Academy tradition of ‘simple greetings.’ All the freshmen and sophomores from the martial arts department, please come forward.”
Ten students from each group stepped forward. They lined up facing each other in the center of the arena. Itargand stood at the far left of the freshman lineup. Ronan raised an eyebrow.
“Oh. Is he the top student?”
“I heard that handsome young man is Navardose’s son, is that correct?”
“That’s right. He shouldn’t have any problem.”
Ronan nodded. Itargand had enrolled in Philleon through the same procedures as other freshmen, undergoing entrance exams and interviews.
He transformed his polymorphic form to appear younger and used the alias “Ir”. Ronan couldn’t understand why he had made such a fuss last night when everyone would end up calling him that anyways.
Nevertheless, Itargand’s background was kept completely secret, so most people didn’t know that he was both a Red Dragon and the son of Navardose. However, he garnered some attention for being the top student in the martial arts department and for his handsome appearance.
His noble platinum hair fluttered in the wind, exuding elegance that rivaled Shullifen and Elizabeth. Murmurs could be heard from the audience scattered throughout the stands.
“Isn’t he the one who pulled out those wings before? Or his younger brother, perhaps?”
“I don’t know. He’s handsome, though.”
“I heard he single-handedly defeated a test magical knight. Where did such a monster come from…?”
The evaluations were generally excellent. Each time such praise was uttered, Navardose’s lips curled slightly upwards. Seeing her occasionally look at Ronan with enthusiasm, he had to subtly convey his admiration for having such a remarkable son by periodically forcing an awkward smile.
Suddenly, memories from three years ago flashed through his mind. He had stood in that same spot, facing ten opponents simultaneously, to reassure his worried sister. The thought of sitting where Itargand was sitting now brought back quite a bit of nostalgia.
‘I hope he does well.’
Ronan glanced down at Itargand. His usually arrogant and confident demeanor seemed somewhat different today, with his face stiffened. Tension was evident even here.
“I have a bad feeling about this…”
It wasn’t difficult to guess the reason. Navardose was staring at Itargand with sparkling eyes, seemingly unconcerned about the crowd around them. If it weren’t for the gathering of people, she would probably have cheered for her son with both hands clasped to her mouth.
‘Damn. It’s burdensome.’
Ronan clicked his tongue. If he were in Itargand’s place, he would probably throw up right there from nervousness. Then, everyone except Itargand and one sophomore descended from the arena. It seemed the sparring partners had been decided.
The representative of the sophomore class was a young man who appeared extremely disobedient. With jet-black hair and just a single sword in hand, he strongly reminded Ronan of his past self. A sense of inexplicable unease washed over him as he observed the scene.
‘He really looks like he doesn’t listen to anyone… No, I shouldn’t be prejudiced.’
Ronan shook his head to dispel his biases.
‘Yeah, I’m not Lynn. I shouldn’t judge people based on their appearance.’
As he was contemplating this, suddenly, the young man spat on the ground and pointed his sword at Itargand.
“Haha, you’re the top freshman? You just look so-so!”
“That’s right.”
“It seems like there’s something remarkable about you. Just by looking at your face, you look as fragile as a dandelion.”
‘Ah, damn it.’
For a moment, Ronan’s face stiffened. The Emperor sitting beside him took a sharp breath. The sound of Aselle coughing vigorously, as if choked on water, echoed from the sidelines.
“Cough! Cough!”
Without needing to be prompted, everyone turned to Navardose. The Mother of Fire gazed at her son with an unchanged expression, still looking calm. Her brow seemed slightly furrowed, but she seemed okay for now.
Provoking a dragon wasn’t a bright idea. As Ronan prayed silently for him to stop, the young man continued.
“My name is Tyber Patizan! Didn’t your mother teach you it’s polite to state your name before a duel?”
Ronan gritted his teeth. Itargand, upon hearing the word “mother,” furrowed his brow.
“…Ir.”
“Ir! I don’t know who gave you that name, but it sounds weird.”
The idiot named Tyber chuckled as he twirled his sword around. Katir looked at Navardose with an expression that seemed like he was about to burst into tears at any moment.
“Do you know this, Ir? The last time a freshman defeated a senior in the martial arts department’s simple greetings was in the 787th batch. It was when the senior who I respect the most, senior Ronan, defeated ten opponents at the same time.”
“So what’s your point?”
“Don’t expect such a miracle to happen to you. Principal, commence the match!”
Tyber shouted at Katir, turning to him. Whatever his intentions, thanks to his bold provocation, the atmosphere in the arena was now heated.
“…All right then. Let’s begin the first greeting.”
Katir opened his mouth as he closed his eyes tightly. Bang! At the same time, Tyber’s figure shot forward. Cheers erupted from various parts of the stands. Even to Ronan’s eyes, it was quite a sharp charge.
‘He had a reason for confidence.’
For a moment, his reckless behavior seemed to be forgotten in the face of his excellent skills. It was clearly the result of countless efforts piled on the rock of talent.
But unfortunately, his opponent wasn’t so favorable. Just as Tyber reached Ir’s sight, he launched his attack. Watching quietly, Ir lightly swung the sword he held. Baang! Tyber was sent flying and crashed into the opposite wall of the arena.
“Graagh!”
A spiderweb-shaped crack appeared at the point of Tyber’s impact. It was a sight reminiscent of the Festival of Swords. Ir glared at him and growled softly.
“Daring to disrespect my mother.”
“Now, hold on a moment!”
Tyber, who hadn’t fainted despite the impact, shouted in a frightened voice. He was pinned against the wall, unable to move. Ir raised his sword towards the empty air without a care for what others might say. Quaaaaang! Flames surged along the blade, pouring onto the ground.
“Aaaah! Spare me!!”
Tyber screamed in terror. The flames of a Red Dragon, capable of incinerating everything, were bearing down on him. Ronan stood up abruptly.
“That idiot!”
Finally, the feared situation unfolded. It seemed like all the warnings about controlling his power went unheeded. Ronan, enhanced by mana to enhance his agility, leaped like a spring. Thud! Landing in front of Tyber, he shouted in an irritated voice.
“Bend down!”
“Se-senior Ronan?!”
Ronan drew his sword. The crimson Lamancha, glowing like blood, emerged. As he concentrated, time seemed to stretch out. In a world where even the heartbeat seemed to freeze, only Ronan and his sword moved as they should. Hundreds of white lines were drawn above the wave of flames.
“That’s…!”
“M-Mother of Fire?”
At that moment, Navardose stood up. The pupils that had imitated humans narrowed vertically.
The sense of deja vu that had been haunting her since the previous night finally surfaced. Looking at him now, his face resembled that being so closely, so why hadn’t she recognized him immediately? A mesmerizing voice escaped her lips as they parted.
“I see. Is that child his son?”
