Chapter – 22
As Lanken muttered to himself, he suddenly came up with an idea and changed his tone.
“Right, they’re an amazing person. So let’s just get married as we are. Let’s stake our claim before anyone else does.”
“I’ll definitely hunt down the dragon, so I can become a wonderful fiancée worthy of someone like Eola.”
“No, at that point, you’d already be an ex-fiancée.”
“Even if I’m an ex, I’d still be a fiancée.”
“No, once it’s over, being worthy or not doesn’t matter—it’s done.”
Even if they were broken off with, they would still be considered a former fiancée for a time—but then it wouldn’t really mean anything.
A “former fiancée” suitable for a man who is talented, kind, and seemingly has it all… it’s not a cool phrase at all. It’s almost humiliating.
“I don’t mind.”
“No, don’t say you’re fine with it.”
“Then, shall we quickly move on to the next plan, to live up to your trust, Eola?”
Viretta used the best tactic when a conversation hit a wall: ignore it and change the subject.
If you boldly shift the topic, Lanken would grumble but still come over, curious, to listen.
And today, with Eola also excited like a child about receiving a bundle of gifts, it was a particularly enjoyable moment for Viretta.
After all, a conversation is only fun when there’s an audience. Viretta spread out a map she had brought from the inn.
“I have a huge regret about our very first hunt.”
“Is it a deep guilt for hunting animals unnecessarily for sport or show?”
“You always offer a new perspective, Eola. It’s impressive—but wrong. My concern was what to do after hunting. Catching them alone doesn’t solve the problem.”
After catching prey, they had to transport it back to the village, skin it, butcher it, and worry about disposing of the rest.
Also, once the hunt was done, they had to leave the area quickly; otherwise, they risked being attacked by a herd or a predator.
“That’s right. We paid dearly for our ignorance.”
“Goodness, ignorance? It was just a slight lack of knowledge.”
Viretta recalled the bitter memory of hopping around in front of a giant rhinoceros and wasting time, which led the herd to chase them again.
A slight lack of knowledge can sometimes have fatal consequences, but it’s still only a slight flaw. Not a major mistake.
“Sharp observation. We should also think about what to do after the hunt. Sending the heads of the prey to the families at the engagement ceremony is something to reconsider too.”
“That was a good move. Both fathers would have been reassured.”
“Indeed. They would know the whereabouts of those we had formally declared war against.”
“Declared war? That’s news to me. We were just sending gifts. Engagement celebration gifts.”
Even though she was technically the fiancée.
“That’s not true. Traditionally, sending mercenaries the heads of beasts is a clear declaration of war. By chance, the gift and the head’s inscription align.”
“No matter how they align, it has no meaning.”
“The rhyme might interest you.”
“No, I’ve told you ‘no’ a hundred times already. Will you understand?”
“And I’ve never heard such a thing before!”
Viretta cried out in frustration, and Eola jumped in surprise.
“So, it wasn’t a declaration of war?”
“A declaration of war?! Against your father?! Well… thinking about it, it’s not impossible. But no, it wasn’t!”
“Exactly! That’s why you’re my fiancée!”
“Of course… I, Viretta, as your fiancée—or rather, what do you think I am, Eola?!”
Viretta quickly pulled herself together. No matter how sweet a compliment, she had to address it at least once.
Naturally thinking it was a declaration of war, cutting off the rhino’s head, being happy to accept a possible declaration…
She worried how far Eola’s image of her diverged from reality. What did Eola think Viretta Medlidge actually did?
“I think you’re independent, brave, and magnanimous.”
“Oh my, naturally… that’s true, but isn’t there a vast difference between being magnanimous and sending a declaration of war to your father?”
Her image of Viretta was good, but she couldn’t afford to be naive.
Eola’s puzzled expression grew wide as she tried to understand Viretta’s sharp words.
“Yet fathers, both in most legends and reality, are their children’s greatest rivals and obstacles, aren’t they?”
“Not wrong, but that sounds rather cold.”
It might seem like she was treating her father as a mere obstacle.
“Fathers often fail to recognize their children’s growth. For the sake of the family’s benefit, they might pressure someone like you, Viretta, into a loveless marriage. That’s the way of fathers.”
“You’ve become even harsher.”
“I suppose I narrated it objectively. I will reflect on that. Still, while loving their children and acting for their benefit, they remain formidable rivals. To truly become an adult, you must contend with your father.”
“So you mean to face him boldly. Eola, do you want to fight with your father?”
“Eh? Well… my father doesn’t really—”
The unfinished “doesn’t really…” seemed to mean, “Do I really need to fight with him?” But she refined it into a more polished expression rather than revealing her true thoughts.
“He isn’t a barrier great enough that you need to prepare yourself or overcome him.”
Eola’s words were clear, leaving no shadow of doubt.
“Oh, my father doesn’t really—”
Again, this “doesn’t really…” implied, “Is it really necessary to fight him?”
Viretta understood exactly what Eola meant.
It wasn’t that fighting her father was uncomfortable; it was that the barrier wasn’t significant enough to bother fighting at all.
“No matter if my father scolds or objects, it won’t change anything.”
“Ah, indeed. Viretta, you’ve already stepped beyond your father’s bounds.”
Lanken, standing a little apart, watched the two “rebellious children” with cool, detached eyes. Between themselves, warmth flowed, but if one listened to the content of their conversation, it was ruthless.
“So there’s no need for a declaration of war. Anyway, what’s done is done! Next time, don’t make decisions alone. Tell me everything in detail.”
“Thank you for your leniency. From now on, I’ll report immediately instead of deciding on my own.”
“Glad you understand. Now, back to the main topic—you need a way to transport the hunted prey to the village, without sending a declaration of war.”
“Oh, that’s easy. We can just use a cart, right?”
“In that case, we’ll need a cart suitable for the dragon. And we’ll also need to find draft animals capable of pulling it. If keeping the corpse intact isn’t necessary, we could use multiple carts and disassemble the dragon.”
Finally back on topic, Viretta’s words flowed freely. She sketched out the post-hunt plan, quickly scribbling on her opposite palm with her fingers, imagining the dragon’s fate.
Beside her, Lanken adjusted the heavy load he carried, wearing a mask of calm over his anxious face. This was familiar to him.
Viretta, who was at once reckless yet surprisingly thorough, always prepared for what came after achieving her goals. She thought about how to deal with the dragon even before it was caught.
Her planning might seem like baseless optimism, but it also reflected her seriousness, even in absurd strategies.
“We’ll also need to clear the transport route in advance. Pulling a large cart will attract toll disputes. If the dragon’s size makes it hard to pass through the city gates, we’ll need to place it outside the walls and prepare a tarp so it doesn’t get wet…”
Viretta, after weighing the details, brushed off the minor plans with a wave of her hand.
“…The point is, we need more people. Three of us can’t hunt a dragon alone!”
That was the key point. They had talked about hunting a dragon, but never about hunting it “with just the three of us.”
Viretta admired her own insight in spotting this gap, clasping her hands near her chest.
“That’s great. I wholeheartedly agree. Oh, gods, you’ve heard my prayers! Thank you!”
“But our attempts to gather people within Filian failed miserably.”
Ignoring Lanken, who had begun his prayers, Eola pouted with a look of pity.
