I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon

[Filian Eastern Mine Dragon Hunt Journal, Day 17

Current party: Five members

(*Main organizer) Viretta Medlit – Second daughter of the Medlit family, a born hunter

Iola, son of Jin – A noble-born student from the Mercenary City

Moslin – A violent battle mage known as the "Flashing Blade of the Rose War"

Ranken – A loyal bodyguard and friend who has completed the Blood Oath

Saffron – A slave resisting fate and society's chains. A butcher who has slaughtered dragons

Source of funds: (Viretta's allowance and a portion of Medlit family assets appropriated)

Patronage from Count Beckdales

<Progress>

1. Planning phase

2. Secured initial funds

3. Departure

4. Trial hunt

5. Hired a mage

6. Visited local lords and requested road use permits

7. Secured additional funds

8. Secured a local guide familiar with the area’s geography and economy

9. Studied hunting targets

10. First hunting attempt (Failed)

11. Plan revision

12. Procured equipment and weapons

13. Second hunting attempt]

Iola's hands moved quickly as he wrote in his familiar hunting journal. It had been 16 days since they left the Medlit mansion. About a fortnight since their engagement.

So many things had already unfolded in such a short time. He added a few more lines to the notebook, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

[*Day 16 morning.

When morning came, the dragon flew down to drink water. Apparently, it can’t last long without drinking.

The dragon sits on all fours by the lake, lowering its body to drink. Its long neck seems like it could reach the water, but it lowers its entire body instead, which is characteristic of it.

When the dragon drinks by the lake, surprisingly, many small creatures appear. The size difference is vast, but they seem to judge it’s safe, as the dragon doesn’t harm them.

There’s a risk of being trampled when the dragon moves, but they seem willing to take that risk. To avoid such danger, they don’t approach too closely.

The dragon’s back, where it was struck by lightning, is still not healed. The internal damage doesn’t seem significant, but the skin remains damaged.

It may not be a scar but rather a burn mark. Further observation is necessary.

Despite being struck by Moslin’s most powerful lightning spell, there seems to be no major issue. However, lightning spells vary in potency depending on distance and terrain, so that needs further investigation. I would like to know what level of lightning magic causes skin damage.

Due to recent personal developments, there’s been a slight complication with my relationship with Viretta.

We aren’t focusing on the dragon at the moment, but I suspect it’s just a temporary issue. I’m sure she’ll come through with some brilliant insight soon.

After breakfast, we plan to depart for the village where the dragon’s nest is located. It flew in the same direction yesterday and seems to return the same way. It appears to fly directly from the nest to the lake without wasting time.

It seems that hunting too small a prey is difficult for a hunting prodigy, as I couldn’t catch any fish this morning. I used my knowledge from my mercenary days to make a fishing net and caught some fish.

Viretta made grilled fish for us. It lacked seasoning, but it was still tasty.]

Iola closed the journal and stood up. Viretta, growing quickly in the morning sunlight, was already packing up to leave.

"Let’s go quickly. Ranken will be worried."

"Yes, although we did say goodbye, seeing the dragon take the box away in front of him will probably worry him."

Being flown off while holding a box in the dragon’s claws is generally not considered a standard greeting.

To put it into words, it would seem more like a "last will before being killed by a dragon."

However, the two of them, having survived the ordeal, were somewhat lacking in urgency.

They left with a light-hearted response, saying, "If it’s just the two of us, I bet there’ll be chaos. Heh heh."

"Ranken will cause a huge accident if left alone."

"Ranken? He always speaks so reasonably and calmly."

"He may seem that way, but if left alone, he’s likely to blow something up. It’s only been a day, so if we return now, everything should be fine."

Iola nodded, agreeing.

While he admired their deep concern for each other, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of envy at their consideration for Ranken.

To worry about Ranken first after both had nearly died from being trapped in the box and carried off by the dragon—after all they’d been through, it wasn’t easy to overcome the bond they shared.

Iola sighed, hiding the envy in his heart, and slipped the notebook into his jacket.

But Iola’s thoughts were somewhat naïve. Viretta was genuinely worried about Ranken causing a major accident.

At that very moment, Ranken was indeed causing a bombshell of a problem.

"Ranken, please, think again. You’re a reasonable man, right...?"

"Ugh, ugh, I have no choice. If we hold the memorial service, Viretta will be the one to die..."

Saffron, drenched in cold sweat, tried to stop Ranken. But her words had no effect on him as he teared up.

He hunched his shoulders like a hamster, tears welling up in his eyes.

While it would decrease his charm for a rugged man to act like this, the youthful, sharp-faced Ranken stirred sympathy when he appeared this despondent.

Even Saffron, the slave, couldn’t help but feel some sympathy, but her natural temperament could not let him off the hook for ruining everything.

Saffron gritted her teeth and grabbed Ranken by the pants leg, pleading with him.

"No, this thought is terribly flawed! The memorial service and survival have nothing to do with each other!"

"Viretta wanted the memorial service. If we hold it, she’ll never get another chance."

"Cough, cough... Do you even realize what you’re saying? Even a slave knows better than this. Are you saying we’re all going to cross over together and follow Viretta to the afterlife...?"

"She’ll be lonely, Saffron. Iola’s here, but she said they’re calling off the engagement, so she’ll be lonely."

At the mention of the afterlife, clear tears fell from Ranken’s eyes.

His pitiful expression tugged at the heartstrings. The surrounding women and older men were all trying to comfort Ranken.

"Cough, cough... Get a grip, this is not what matters right now."

"It’s to stop the memorial for Viretta."

"No, really... are you betraying me like this...?"

Saffron buried her head in her hands and lay down flat on the ground.

Saffron was on the verge of losing her mind.

All the plans had come from Viretta’s mouth, so she believed Viretta was the alpha and omega of the party.

Even though Iola had shown the power to knock down a count in their first meeting, he was just a little rough around the edges.

Moslin was an odd old woman who only became peculiar when combat started.

Ranken, on the other hand, always acted as the voice of reason. That’s why she had completely let her guard down around him.

But to her surprise, the biggest troublemaker turned out to be Ranken.

"But we haven’t found the body yet..."

The problem was that Ranken had planned to sabotage the memorial service by attacking it.

Saffron found everything about this plan completely nonsensical.

It had only been a day since Viretta disappeared. The desire to hold on to hope and continue searching for her was completely valid.

But if the Medlit family suddenly announced they were holding a memorial without conducting any search, it was only natural for Saffron to be angry at their premature resignation.

Though she understood his feelings, logically and emotionally, it was hard to justify his methods.

"I understand. But your methods are... very, very wrong."

However, when it came to enlisting a royal soldier from a neighboring kingdom to disrupt the memorial service, that’s when things changed.

If he had already recruited them, she wanted to push him off the cliff at the mine and go tumbling down herself.

The entire idea of "appealing to the sympathy of a passing royal, then attacking the memorial with her soldiers to ruin the service for the lady they served" made no sense at all.

How could he have done this in just one day?

By what means?

And who exactly was this royal?

Any reasonable person would never do something like this.

But Ranken, without any malice, was simply doing it out of concern for Viretta.

"Hey, slave. If you’re not going to join us, then just get out of the way. I’ve made up my mind to support this guy."

A fierce-looking red-haired woman kicked Saffron out of the way and hooked her arm around Ranken’s shoulder.

Kicked forcefully to the ground, Saffron glared up at the royal mercenary Ranken had recruited.

Her support for Ranken made the situation escalate.

"Waiting for the lady who went off to hunt dragons—now that’s a romantic idea. But if she’s really dead, you should come work for me."

The woman grabbed Ranken’s chin and turned his face towards her. She bared her teeth and eyed him like a predator.

"Viretta’s not dead."

Ranken mumbled gloomily, slouching his shoulders. The woman, who claimed to be a princess, burst into laughter.

"Ha, ha, you’ve got some spirit. I like that. I’m not usually the type to like men, but you...?"

Honestly, Saffron was skeptical about the woman’s claim to be a princess.

While she did carry herself with the aura of someone important, with a knight and a large flag, she gave off more of a bandit vibe than a royal one.

"Until you feel better, I’ll stay with you. When you’re okay, come to me. Dogl is a good country, and I’m a great master."

She had the boldness of a warrior, drinking from a jar of liquor as if it were a heroic feat.

‘Her quality is really terrible.’

Saffron realized why the seemingly talentless Ranken was part of this party.

It was clear this man had been destined to attract only the worst kind of women.