I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon

"Since then, I’ve developed a habit of exaggerating even the smallest things. I wasn’t good at anything, so I couldn’t get any attention. But when I did, how wonderful it was."

The Medlit mansion, filled with luxurious furniture and art pieces.

Viretta’s father, Cadelon Medlit, sat in his armchair, finishing up his description of his daughter to his in-law.

Having repeated this story dozens of times, Cadelon had now practically memorized the way he told the first exaggeration, and surprisingly, Monaine listened seriously.

"To think she caught a wolf at the age of nine, she’s quite a talented young lady. If you raise a child like that well, she could become a fine warrior."

"No, my friend. I appreciate your kind words, but what strength did Viretta have? She probably just chased away a large wild dog or something like that."

It was nice to hear compliments about his daughter, but Cadelon was wary of inflating expectations too much.

When you pay a high price for something, you naturally expect it to be worth the price.

Cadelon, keen on keeping Viretta's worth in check, carefully tried to manage the image of his daughter.

While Viretta was precious to him, the truth was she had many troublesome aspects, and his in-law was a rough mercenary who even beat his own children.

If Cadelon had hoped too much and been disappointed, things might have turned awkward, especially if Monaine had gotten upset and drawn a sword, calling him a fraud.

He had to keep expectations just right—not too high, not too low.

Cadelon took a sip of tea while desperately trying to adjust Viretta’s value in Monaine's eyes.

"Still, at that age, protecting the princess and standing up to the wild dog was brave. I was worried you’d call her a liar, but it turns out she’s a more promising talent than expected."

However, Monaine found the exaggeration story surprisingly endearing.

Monaine, who had become the leader of the Dusk Mercenaries with nothing but skill, and had married the second daughter of a noble family, was particularly sensitive to martial abilities.

He praised Viretta’s character, stating that her bravery was much like his own son's, though the two were headed for very different paths.

"She has a loyalty and boldness that my son lacks. I hope my grandson inherits his father’s skills and his mother’s character."

"No, no. Please don’t get ahead of yourself. It’s just a tall tale, really."

The more Monaine showed admiration, the more anxious Cadelon became.

In his eyes, Viretta's essence was about 150 degrees removed from that of a warrior.

No matter how much she tried, she would never come close to being a warrior.

She wasn't a passive child, but Viretta’s bravery was a very different kind of bravery from what Monaine envisioned.

In Cadelon’s mind, the difference was as clear as that between a soldier and a sportsman.

Realizing his words were having the opposite effect, Cadelon bit his cup.

The sharp sound caught Monaine’s attention, and he raised his eyebrows.

It was not anger, but deep thought, and yet it was intimidating. Cadelon swallowed nervously and cautiously observed Monaine's expression.

It was awkward to praise his daughter so highly, but equally awkward to chastise her for her exaggerations.

"Um, my friend, why so suddenly…"

"I know of a princess with red hair, close in age to Viretta."

Monaine, who had been frowning, suddenly thought of a princess that matched Viretta's description.

His furrowed brow was not from anger, but from recalling the princess who might fit the description.

Rather than asking, "What? A princess?" Cadelon chose to wait for Monaine to speak further.

"There’s Princess Sephia from the Dogl Kingdom near Sahra. She’s about the same age as Iola and has red hair. We call it blood-red, not rose-like red."

"The Dogl Kingdom doesn’t have a princess close to Viretta’s age. Their princess is about ten years older and has brown hair. And the princesses of Sahra are the same."

Cadelon quickly added, countering Monaine’s guess. He was relentless, pushing further than Viretta’s narrative.

Thinking that perhaps a princess from a far-off land might have visited, Cadelon even checked countries farther than Sahra.

Yet, there was no sign of a red-haired young princess.

"It couldn’t have been her. Princess Sephia only became a princess recently."

"...?"

At this, even Cadelon was taken aback.

How could someone close in age to Viretta only recently become a princess? Could such a thing happen?

"You wouldn’t have found her if you searched ten years ago. Back then, Lord Randall, the rightful heir of Dogl, was exiled with his daughter due to his uncle’s scheme."

"Wait, what?"

"It’s a common tale. His uncle seized the throne, and four years ago, Randall, who had built his strength, staged a rebellion and reclaimed the throne."

An older mercenary behind Monaine chuckled and interjected into the conversation.

"We had a hard time with that one."

"Haha, I remember. Iola worked hard, but after that, he went to study abroad in Phillian—no, never mind."

The "never mind" came as Cadelon broke the handle of his teacup, and he laughed awkwardly, noticing Monaine's tension.

"Anyway, Princess Sephia is Lord Randall's only daughter. Even when her father couldn’t take the throne, she must have thought of herself as a princess."

She was the daughter of the rightful heir to the throne but had been exiled due to unfortunate circumstances.

For someone like that to call themselves a princess was only natural.

While an adult might hide their true identity, a nine-year-old might naively announce it to the world.

Age, status, red hair, and exile.

Princess Sephia from the Dogl Kingdom fit every condition Viretta had described.

Cadelon’s eyes twitched.

Could it be? Could Viretta's story actually be true after all these years?

It had been dismissed as exaggeration for over fourteen years, with no one ever believing it.

"This princess might not be the one Viretta is talking about. It’s only the hair color and age that match."

Monaine seemed to want to make clear that he wasn’t fully convinced, leaning back into his armchair and laughing.

He took a big gulp of tea, still holding the broken teacup, as Cadelon anxiously tried to read his expression.

With Monaine’s casual conclusion, Cadelon’s own internal storm subsided slightly.

Nothing had changed.

Back then, he had still hoped that, in some far-off land, there might be a red-haired princess, and yet, he didn’t believe Viretta had actually saved her.

"Haha, right. It’s a bit of a fanciful story, isn't it?"

Fighting a wolf at the age of nine to save a princess? That just didn’t make sense.

But, if such a princess existed, maybe she had been saved from a dog or a cat. It could become a cute memory, even if Viretta didn’t save her life.

"Still, I would like to meet her with Viretta next time."

Cadelon said this with a relaxed smile, his gaze full of skepticism, not believing a word of Viretta’s exaggeration.