Chapter 221

Dragon (2)

A dragon’s head on a human body. Her long tail remained, and her skin was covered in scales.

This was the reality of a dragon’s polymorph.

So much for peerless beauties and handsome men. She had merely transformed into a human "shape."

If I had to classify her by race, she looked something like a lizardman.

But there was something I didn’t understand.

According to Cain, most of the heroes from the Age of Dragons had actually been dragons enjoying themselves among humans.

Yet anyone could tell at a glance that Banir was a dragon. Her appearance was far removed from that of an ordinary human.

Even demons merely had blue skin and black sclera; their overall appearance was still close to human.

—You look as though you do not understand.

"...A little. Cain told me that most of the heroes from the Age of Dragons were polymorphed dragons. I assumed you would look more human."

—It is possible. But it is troublesome.

"Troublesome?"

—Do you know how much effort is required to polymorph properly? You must account for every individual detail, beginning with the skin, hair, fingers, toes, and so forth.

That made sense.

It was essentially full-body cosmetic surgery.

Just imagining having to calculate every individual detail made my head hurt.

"Then you transformed more carefully when you lived outside?"

—Indeed. I had a reason to do so.

"What reason?"

—Recreation was easier when I was beautiful or handsome.

What an incredibly realistic reason.

I was still disappointed, though.

Still, conversing with her was easier now that she had taken a humanoid form. The lizard head would take some getting used to, but I could manage.

"Then you originally came from outside the forest, Lady Banir?"

—Indeed.

"If you don’t mind me asking, how old are you...?"

—At least three thousand, I imagine. I was born near the end of the Age of Dragons. I have not begun aging yet, so I cannot be six thousand.

"...What is the approximate lifespan of a dragon?"

—There have been very few cases of dragons dying naturally.

What kind of vague answer was that?

Still, I could understand.

Many people stopped stating their exact age once they got older and simply said what year they had been born.

Keeping track of one’s age every year was genuinely bothersome. Her reasoning was probably similar.

’She must have an incredible amount of experience.’

That was precisely why I had asked her age.

Even though dragons were the most powerful race on the surface, the Forest of Four Seasons was dangerous.

If there were places that even dragons found dangerous, I absolutely needed to know about them.

"Are there any regions I should avoid at all costs? Places where even dragons would find it difficult to survive?"

—It appears you still harbor hope of escaping. You would be better off giving up.

"If I do nothing, I’ll accomplish nothing. But if I try something, then something might come of it."

It was far better than doing nothing.

More importantly, I had a reliable ally.

Thanks to that, I might be able to glimpse at least a possibility of escape.

Perhaps because that thought had occurred to me, I asked Banir something else I had been wondering about.

"Ah, and do you know about the gallery?"

—The gallery? You mean the invaders’ power?

Surprisingly, even Banir, a being from the Age of Myth, knew about the gallery.

However, it seemed she couldn’t access it herself. If she could, she wouldn’t have answered as though she had merely heard about it.

’She can use magic in here, but she can’t access the gallery?’

Perhaps the gods had taken measures to prevent it when they drove the dragons into the Forest of Four Seasons.

Even El Dorado had been turned upside down by unexpected truths. The myths could be even worse.

This might turn into one of those stories common in fiction where it was revealed that the gods had actually been complete bastards all along.

"You can’t use the gallery, can you?"

—Not in this place.

"I can."

—Hmm?

When I told her that I could access the gallery, Banir looked puzzled.

Her expression seemed to say, Even I, a dragon, cannot use it. How can you?

She looked me up and down before turning toward Ludwig.

—Can you access the gallery as well?

Ludwig shook his head.

Forget accessing the gallery—he could barely even use mana.

He had only managed to survive thanks to the Mithricon sword.

—How peculiar.

"I find it peculiar too."

—Hmm... Cough. Cough.

Banir appeared to think for a moment, then began coughing.

Come to think of it, she had said the poison was still inside her body.

Keeping her here for too long would only be a nuisance. It would be best to extract only the most valuable information.

—In any case, you may regard the gallery as one of the invaders’ powers. It was also the greatest reason we lost the war.

"The reason you lost?"

—They could communicate as though they stood directly beside one another, ignoring spatial distances of thousands of kilometers. We were defeated by the overwhelming organizational strength they built upon that ability.

[Ah, I know about that. The connection between the Holy Sword and this body works on a similar principle.]

Cain added an explanation from the side.

His words helped me understand where the gallery had originated.

Of course, that didn’t change the fact that many things remained shrouded in mystery.

"Did the gods perhaps provoke you first, or...?"

—No. We did things that warranted our expulsion.

"You did?"

—Whenever we had the chance, we robbed humans of their wealth or killed them. We certainly deserved to be driven out.

[There is a reason legends claim that dragon lairs are filled with mountains of gold and treasure.]

Anyway.

Whatever the reason, finding a way to escape mattered far more to me than stories from the Age of Myth.

I could argue with the gods or do whatever else I wanted after getting outside.

In here, survival took precedence over everything else. I didn’t even have the luxury of worrying about ancient history.

"Returning to the main subject, are there any places I must never enter?"

—Everywhere will be dangerous by your standards. This forest is the third-safest region available.

"...There are places safer than this?"

That was something else I was learning for the first time.

I had assumed this was the safest place.

One might argue that Banir was judging things by a dragon’s standards, but that actually made her assessment more objective.

There were regions dangerous even to dragons, the most powerful creatures on the surface. One of them had even invaded her lair a few days ago.

—There is a region with a warm climate throughout the year. The insects are somewhat large, but it is otherwise a decent place.

"...The insects are ’somewhat’ large?"

—Approximately the size of one of my claws.

"You mean one of your claws in your original form, right?"

—Is that not obvious?

That alone would make the place extremely dangerous for us.

What a horrifying region.

The Forest of Four Seasons had distinct seasons, so its insects were relatively small.

But the place Banir had mentioned...

I shouldn’t even think about it.

If I had started there, I might have survived by eating insects.

Or the insects might have eaten me.

"Then please tell me which regions I must never enter."

—There will be many by your standards, but never set foot in the land blanketed in green. It would not be an exaggeration to call it cursed.

"The green land?"

—The moment you set foot there, the bones and flesh throughout your body will gradually separate. Very slowly, at that.

—Even your skin will lose the ability to regenerate and slowly slough away. You will die as though afflicted by a plague.

Wasn’t that radiation exposure?

Why was there a radioactive zone in the middle of a forest?

Whatever the case, I would never set foot there.

Radioactive zones usually had horrific mutants crawling around as well.

Banir also mentioned a volcanic region, a region of darkness, the ocean, and several others.

I had seen some of them across the river, but not all.

"So technically speaking, we’re currently in the middle of the forest, right?"

—More or less.

"And an entrance and exit are usually one and the same?"

—Correct.

"Then couldn’t we leave through the place Ludwig entered?"

I felt Ludwig’s gaze from beside me. At the same time, Cain translated my question for him.

If most entrances and exits were the same, couldn’t we simply leave through the place Ludwig had entered?

I was internally berating myself for failing to think of something so simple when—

—Hmph.

Banir scoffed as though my suggestion were utterly ridiculous.

Her derisive expression seemed to say, Do you think I never considered that?

It irritated me for a moment, but she must have had a reason.

—It would be wonderful if the solution were truly that simple. How long have you lived here?

"A little less than a month."

—As you said, the door itself always remains fixed in place. The problem is that while the door remains still, everything around it constantly changes.

Banir then pointed toward the sky.

I looked in the direction she indicated.

The sun was slowly rising.

—Even here, the sun rises from a different direction every day. Do you understand what that means?

—I see that you do. This place contains dozens of distinct regions, and at fixed intervals, they become tangled together at random. Their locations, directions, terrain, and countless other factors must all be considered.

"...What are the chances of finding that door?"

—According to my calculations...

Banir folded her arms and began calculating.

Was mental arithmetic difficult even for a dragon capable of performing dozens of calculations simultaneously?

Or was the probability so absurdly low that calculating it simply took a long time?

After a tense wait, Banir finally nodded, apparently having completed her calculations.

—Judging solely by probability, approximately 0.00000002 percent. And that is a generous estimate.

"That’s generous?"

—The human body is exceptionally fragile. I have heard that you are highly susceptible to disease. If I account for that as well, the probability would be dozens of times lower.

"..."

It was a truly despair-inducing figure.

The odds were almost comparable to winning the lottery.

Perhaps they were even worse.

And if that was already a generous estimate, the realistic odds would be far more abysmal.

However—

"...That’s a relief."

—What did you say?

"That means it isn’t zero."

It merely approached zero. I took comfort in the fact that it wasn’t actually zero.

Whatever the odds, a possibility still existed.

Who knew? Perhaps I would win the lottery.

Some people had won the lottery more than once, so there was no law saying I couldn’t do the same.

"Opportunity comes to those who try. If I gradually reduce the uncertainty, the probability will eventually approach one instead of zero."

Banir stared at me as though she couldn’t understand me.

Her expression openly asked whether I had lost my mind.

But I was serious.

"Besides, I’m not alone. There must be a way to increase the probability significantly."

—...If that is what you believe, I will not stop you. However, I hope you will not push yourself too far.

"Thank you for worrying about me."

It actually put my mind at ease to have Banir explain things so clearly.

At the very least, I had confirmed that an "end" existed.

I didn’t care whether it took years or even decades, as long as I could eventually reach that end.

—Cough. Cough. It seems I should leave soon. Is there anything else you wish to ask before I go?

"Something else... Ah! Come to think of it..."

I had seen something before.

It happened when I recited one of the Heavenly Demon’s mnemonic verses and underwent an experience resembling astral projection.

While soaring freely through the sky, I had spotted an enormous tree.

I had originally planned to head toward it, but one task after another had piled up, preventing me from doing so.

"Do you know about an enormous tree? One that towers far above everything around it?"

—It would be best not to go there.

"Why?"

—Because it emits an excessive amount of mana. It is one of the reasons beings from outside this place cannot use mana, excluding those born and raised here.

"What exactly is it?"

Banir seemed to choose her words carefully before answering.

—The invaders called it the World Tree.

"The World Tree...?"

—Indeed. It releases tremendously powerful mana, exerting immense pressure upon everything around it. As it happens, there is something identical here.

Banir pointed somewhere with one finger.

The rest of us turned our heads in that direction.

There stood the sapling given to me by Let’sGrowTrees, slowly but steadily growing.

—...No. Wait.

Banir belatedly seemed to realize what she was looking at. The moment she recognized the sapling, she recoiled in horror.

—W-Why is that here?

She immediately approached the sapling.

Fwoooooosh!

Then she fired a blast of dragon breath from her mouth.

Was she really allowed to do that?

The sight left me utterly bewildered.

If Let’sGrowTrees had witnessed this, wouldn’t they have fainted from shock?

Banir didn’t care. She gazed contentedly at the thoroughly incinerated sapling.

—That was close. What a wicked tree.

"...Is it because of the mana pressure?"

—That too, but it also turns its surroundings into a wasteland. It greedily devours all nearby nutrients like a pig.

So this was why people hated elves.

They didn’t despise tree planting for no reason.

Still, anyone capable of giving away a World Tree sapling must hold an extraordinarily high position.

Either that, or planting World Tree saplings was something encouraged on a national level.

’I’ll ask about it later.’

In any case, I postponed my plans to visit the World Tree.

Banir said I could go there if I wanted, but warned me to remain cautious.

—Then, before I leave... I should give you a gift.

"A gift?"

—You will be raising my child in my place. Should I not provide you with something appropriate?

If that was the reason, I had no intention of refusing.

A gift from a dragon.

What could she possibly give me?

It would almost certainly be something extraordinary.

Yes, something extraordinary.

—Urk.

"...?"

—Uuuurgh.

Banir tilted her head upward, and her throat began convulsing.

The sight filled me with unease.

Unfortunately, my fears became reality.

Bleurgh!

Thud! Thud! Roll...

Banir spat out an orb almost the size of a soccer ball.

It wasn’t an egg, but an inner core that shimmered with every color of the rainbow.

An inner core completely drenched in dragon saliva.

—Eat it.

For once, I couldn’t help glaring at Banir.

I wore the same expression I would have made after being served fish-head curry.