Return of the Dragon-Devouring Assassin

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A searing pain shot through his body.

As the poison slowly spread, the feeling in his hands and feet faded away.

On top of that, the countless stab wounds across his body had left him bleeding heavily.

How had things come to this.

The answer lay inside the wooden box clutched in his hand.

'...The Dragon Jade.'

A spirit medicine retrieved from an ancient ruin, by order of the family.

What was it worth, that he had put his life on the line for it.

For a single spirit medicine, of all things.

"Ha ha......."

Feyr let out a hollow laugh.

A truly wretched situation, but there was nothing to be done.

It was the family's order—Beilhart's order.

Where had it all gone wrong.

Feyr began to retrace his memories for a moment.

***

Beilhart.

The sovereign of the south, called the greatest swordsmanship house on the continent.

A family of lofty renown. As an entity unto itself, in the age when dragons breathed and lived, it had slain countless dragons and earned the epithet Ryongsal-jiga—The House That Slays Dragons.

Feyr had been an orphan from the slums, but had been adopted and made a member of the family.

After that, his life changed completely.

Those who bore the name Beilhart had to uphold that responsibility, whoever they may be.

No matter how grueling the mission, he had only to quietly follow orders when given.

Even if he was nothing more than a disposable piece on a game board.

Feyr arrived at the rendezvous point with stumbling steps.

"......"

The first thing he saw was Beilhart's banner, emblazoned with a dragon and a sword.

Beneath it, a familiar face.

Grey hair and red eyes—the hallmarks of the direct bloodline. A man whose warrior's physique was, at a glance, utterly without flaw.

Zik Beilhart.

The legitimate heir of the family head, and the commander of the Ashen Wolf Knights—an order composed solely of the family's elite.

Zik regarded Feyr with emotionless eyes.

Feyr held out the wooden box.

"......I have returned from completing the mission."

Feyr opened the wooden box he had been holding to show its contents.

A tremendous energy instantly surged forth.

An energy reminiscent of that of a dragon—and at it, Zik's expressionless eyes went wide and round.

"Good work. Go and get some rest."

Short and sparse words.

How many times had he nearly died to obtain the Dragon Jade.

And all that greeted his return was a handful of words.

Even so, Feyr did not let it show.

A mere tool was not permitted to have feelings.

Just as he was handing over the wooden box,

"......Forever, that is."

The sword at Zik's hip vanished as it was drawn.

And then.

Shring!

Zik's sword was leveled at Feyr.

"......!"

Feyr instinctively dropped low, barely managing to dodge the sword.

"You played a clever trick."

Zik muttered, looking at his empty hand.

He had clearly struck at the neck the moment he received the Dragon Jade, but in that instant Feyr had evaded and even reclaimed the wooden box.

Even for a tool of the family, it was a truly uncanny feat.

At Zik's action, Feyr spoke in a tone of resignation.

"......Is it my turn?"

Zik said nothing in reply, simply adjusting his stance.

Understanding the situation, Feyr swiftly drew his sword.

"......Do you think I'll just roll over and die?"

Feyr's expression was rather calm.

It was the stillness that comes from a fury so great it warps back into composure.

Think coldly.

He had drawn his sword with bravado, but his body was already in the worst possible condition.

Feyr felt it instinctively.

'I cannot win.'

Under normal circumstances, Zik would not have been a match for Feyr.

But with his body broken from the previous mission, he would not have the strength to withstand Zik's blade.

Even so, he had to struggle.

If he was going to die anyway, he decided to put up a proper fight at least once.

With his mind made up, deep blue flames flickered to life across Feyr's body.

Aura.

The power used by warriors who wield Mana.

Feyr had already reached the realm of Master.

But Feyr was not the only one who was a Master.

Zik, who had been silently watching him, also kindled blue flames.

Fwooom!

The two, having drawn up their Auras, faced each other.

And simultaneously, they lunged at one another.

Claaang!

Feyr's final desperate struggle.

And yet, laughably, it was decided without even a few exchanges.

Feyr's defeat, as was inevitable.

With his injuries already severe, he had barely fought before he was brought to his knees.

Feyr coughed up black blood.

"Ugh-hack!"

His surroundings blurred.

The feeling across his entire body grew dull.

His teeth ground together.

He had submitted blindly in order to survive.

And yet, this was how it ended.

At Feyr's broken and battered state, Zik finally opened his mouth.

"When a game piece comes to know too much, this is what happens."

"......Ugh-hack! Piss off."

He had suspected he would be discarded someday.

But that it would be now.

'I have regrets.'

As the end of his life drew near, his past flashed before his eyes.

Since childhood, he had been raised by the family into a killing machine.

He had killed indiscriminately, and been soaked in blood and resentment alike.

Looking back, that was how it was.

But—had any of it been my will?

'No. I was nothing more than an old, rusted sword, used and thrown away.'

Ha. Thinking about it now, what a truly wretched life it had been.

Feyr closed his eyes.

And having made one final resolution, he opened his mouth toward Zik.

"I wonder......why you personally came all this way."

Feyr spit out a mouthful of bloody phlegm and continued speaking.

Zik—who was he?

Among the family, he was one of the preeminent top-tier combatants.

Would Zik to have personally made this trip to dispose of an injured Feyr?

The numbers did not add up.

Then there was only one answer.

The Dragon Jade.

It must be because its value was greater than anyone had imagined.

Grind.

At Feyr's words, Zik's expression twisted.

"......What are you trying to say."

Presently, Feyr broke into a sly smile and picked up the Dragon Jade.

Struck by a bad feeling, Zik's eyes went wide as he shouted.

"Wha—stop. What are you thinking."

Flustered, Zik extended his arm and began slowly closing in on Feyr.

As the distance narrowed, Feyr grinned and answered.

"What am I thinking...."

This.

"Don't!"

Feyr swallowed the Dragon Jade whole.

It was too late for Zik to stop him.

The Dragon Jade had already gone down past Feyr's throat.

In that instant.

"Urrk?!"

Together with a searing agony as though his innards were on fire, a maddening rage crashed over Feyr.

It was because the energy within the Dragon Jade had gone berserk inside his body.

Even through the agony and fury great enough to make him lose consciousness, a smile spread across Feyr's lips.

Because he had finally given the family the finger.

Seeing that smile, Zik's face twisted into something as hideous as a demon's.

"You little bastard!"

Schwick!

Accompanied by the slicing sound of muscle being severed, Feyr's vision was, for an instant, turned upside down.

'Ah.'

The sight of Zik swinging his sword, seen upside-down, meant......

'Right.'

My head has been taken off by Zik's sword.

The last thing I see is that bastard's face. How irritating.

Even if I swallowed the Dragon Jade now, it likely would not be a major blow to Beilhart.

But the only revenge available to me at my station was something like this.

For the life I had lived up to now, it was not a satisfying revenge.

In his fading consciousness, Feyr thought.

That he would surely remember this.

That he would be waiting in hell.

In that moment.

〈......Complete......the mis......sion......〉

A golden light flashed from Feyr's body.

***

"Haah!"

Feyr bolted upright.

He reached up to touch the neck that had been severed, but his neck was perfectly intact.

It was not only his neck.

'The other wounds are all healed too?'

The wounds he had sustained carrying out the mission, and the poison that had been coursing through his body—both had vanished without a trace.

It was truly strange.

'But more than that, where is this place?'

It was not only his physical condition that was strange.

Why on earth was he inside an animal cage?

And yet, it felt strangely familiar.

The musty smell, the wailing of people, the dark surroundings where not a single point of light properly entered.

Before long, Feyr was able to discern where this place was.

'......Hajir's slave market.'

Hajir—the empire's most notorious slum.

It was that place's slave market.

'But why am I here?'

It was strange.

Because this was where he had been as a child.

'Is it a dream?'

Or a vision of the past?

But for something like that, everything was far too vivid.

And besides.

These gaunt, meager hands and arms.

Even his build was small.

Looking himself over, it was a child's body.

No, to be precise....

'It's identical to my body as a child.'

Even the circumstances he found himself in were identical.

The time when, abandoned by his parents as a child, he had been captured by Hajir's slave traders and was about to be sold.

It was the exact same situation as then.

Feyr sat where he was and worked his mind to grasp the situation.

Before long, as unbelievable as it was, he arrived at a single conclusion.

'Don't tell me I've come back to the past?'

But did that make sense?

Did a power like that exist in the world?

Even the greatest archmage on the continent had sneered, saying the realm of time was a god's ability.

'......Could it be? Because of the Dragon Jade?'

Before dying, the only strange thing he had done was swallow the Dragon Jade.

It was a mystery heaped upon mystery, but given this situation, there was only one thing to suspect.

There was simply no other cause and effect he could make out.

Clatter!

Just then.

Suddenly, a plank door in one corner flew open with force.

"The goods you're looking for are right here."

"Mm."

A sly-looking man bowed and scraped as he entered, before a man wearing a robe.

Feyr was able to recognize that face clearly and recall.

The circumstances in which he currently found himself.

'This is when I was sold to Beilhart.'

The sly-looking man's name was Gram.

He was the slave trader who had picked up the abandoned Feyr and sold him off into slavery.

And the robed man behind him was a servant of House Beilhart.

The moment Feyr recognized the two of them, he ground his teeth without thinking.

'The bastards who made me live that dog of a life.'

Only now could he truly feel it.

That he had really returned to the past.

Gram said to the robed man.

"As you said, I've gathered twenty boys around the age of thirteen."

"Mm. Would it be alright if I have a look around."

"But of course. Please, look to your heart's content."

"Mm."

The servant began examining the children locked behind iron bars, one by one.

Before long, those footsteps stopped in front of Feyr.

"......"

Feyr stared at him with cold, piercing eyes.

Because of this man, he had spent an entire lifetime serving as the family's hound.

Recalling that hellish life, hostility surged up within him unbidden.

"They're in decent shape."

The servant who had been looking at Feyr scoffed.

"I'll head outside first, so load the slaves onto the cargo wagon out front."

"Yes! Understood."

The servant glanced at Feyr once more and walked out through the door.

......At this rate, it'll be the same as my past life all over again.

He would be dragged to Beilhart and raised as an assassin.

He would undergo indoctrination, and repeat a life of blind loyalty to the family.

But,

'Who said it's going to go that way?'

He had already lived through such a life once so he knew how meaningless loyalty to the family was.

He would be used up either way.

No matter how outstanding one's abilities were, if you weren't of the bloodline, you would be discarded.

And so Feyr swore to himself that he would have his revenge on Beilhart without fail.

That for the sake of that, he would do whatever it took.

'Going back to the family isn't something I relish......'

Still, it was likely right to go.

Because there were things that could only be obtained from the family.

And so, Feyr resolved to set foot in Beilhart once more.

But it would be different from his past life.

This time, in turn, he would be the one to put a leash around their necks.

One taste of folly was enough.

The discarded, rusted sword would become a blade sharper than anything else, and it would be brandished at their throats.

A second life.

'This time, I will live for revenge.'

A hatred like smoldering embers rose in Feyr's eyes.