We arrived at the mansion of Viscount Hægsted and followed Ranvalt and Sieghart into the grand residence.
As we passed through the entrance hall, we encountered a maid. However, she seemed distracted, as though her mind was elsewhere. Even though we greeted her, she appeared unsettled. Perhaps it was due to the news of the dragon’s attack.
Walking down a corridor lined with large windows, we were led to a spacious drawing room. In the center was an ornate table adorned with a vase of blooming flowers. Several luxurious sofas were arranged around it. The polished windows were framed by grand red curtains, paintings adorned the walls, and intricate patterns were drawn on the ceiling.
Sitting on the sofa directly ahead were the Viscount and Viscountess Hægsted.
“Welcome back, you two,” the Viscount greeted them warmly, smiling at his sons after a long time apart.
“We have returned, Father, Mother,” Ranvalt said, bowing his head. Sieghart followed suit with his own greeting.
“It has been a while. I hope the two of you have been well,” Sieghart said politely.
“We are much the same as always. But more importantly, Sieghart, we have been worried about your illness. Seeing you in good health brings us great relief,” the Viscountess replied.
Sieghart responded with a wry smile to his mother’s words.
Interrupting the calm conversation, Ranvalt spoke in a firm tone.
“Father, we came after hearing reports of a mid-tier Blizzard Dragon appearing. What is the current situation?”
“At present, Rainerio is leading the subjugation force,” the Viscount replied. “And those two behind you—who are they?”
Rainerio was their elder brother’s name and was apparently the one responsible for the region’s defense.
“Allow me to introduce them,” Ranvalt began. “This lady here is Iriya , a skilled mage who has kindly stepped in for Baraha. It was thanks to her potion that Sieghart’s illness was cured.”
“My name is Iriya ,” she introduced herself, bowing slowly. “Though my abilities are modest, I hope to be of assistance and have accompanied them here for that purpose.”
It had been a while since Iriya faced nobles like this, and she felt quite nervous.
The Viscount scrutinized her with a probing gaze. It was clear he was Sieghart’s father, as his demeanor reminded her of Sieghart’s initial coldness.
“Hmm, I do not recall ever seeing this woman before. She is not from the royal court, nor do I recognize her as belonging to any noble family. Who is she?”
“Well… she is a commoner…” Sieghart answered hesitantly, clearly uncomfortable.
The Viscount scoffed, letting out a derisive laugh.
This aspect of him was completely unlike Sieghart. The younger man had never looked down on others for being commoners.
“So, have you all been fooled by a common woman? Do you truly believe someone like her could replace the esteemed Court Mage Baraha in protecting this defensive city? That so-called potion was likely purchased from somewhere, and now she will probably demand funds for research and materials to make more. It’s a common scam.”
The Viscount theatrically placed a hand to his forehead in exaggerated disappointment. Rather than feeling anger or sadness, Iriya felt an unexpected calm wash over her.
At one point, such words might have filled her with fear or anxiety. But now, after hearing Beryal’s thoughts and forming bonds with Sieghart and the others, she was resolute. This would not discourage her.
As Beryal showed signs of irritation, Iriya quietly smiled and shook her head. He looked surprised, as if he had expected her to appear more vulnerable and uncertain.
“She is not such a person! Moreover, she is a mage recognized by Baraha!”
“Father, you are speaking too harshly about the savior of my life! Please take back your words!”
The two of them spoke up in my defense, which made me very happy. Warmth welled up from deep within my chest.
“You would defy me for the sake of such a woman…!?”
“That’s not all! It was also these individuals who saved Irene. They are people to whom our family owes a great debt. We must not treat them with disrespect!”
“Sieghart, you would say such a thing to your father…?”
Just as the Viscount was about to continue, there came the sound of hurried footsteps, and the door burst open roughly.
“This is serious! The Blizzard Dragon is approaching the mansion!”
It was likely one of the guards, a man in his forties clad in armor, who spoke rapidly.
The Viscount and Viscountess widened their eyes in shock, their faces turning pale.
“Do you know its current location?”
Ranvalt calmly asked the reporting soldier.
“Lord Ranvalt , you’ve returned… It seems to be approaching from the north. Lord Rainerio has been injured, and the dragon has escaped him.”
“What?! Rainerio… injured…?”
The Viscount was left speechless, unable to utter another word.
A dragon is coming. Just those words. Somehow, the situation felt absurd, almost comedic.
What had I been so afraid of until now…? It felt as if I had suddenly awakened.
“You spoke so grandly earlier, and yet the Viscount of Hægsted panics over a mere mid-tier dragon…! That dignified figure you showed just moments ago now seems utterly ridiculous.”
When I spoke with deliberate sarcasm, all eyes in the room turned toward me.
Beryal looked momentarily puzzled but quickly returned to his usual confident smirk.
I could no longer allow myself to lose to nobles, not anymore.
After all, I am the contractor of the King of Hell!
“Let us go, Lord Beryal. There is no point in discussing matters further with the people here.”
“Ha… hahaha! Indeed, quite so! Utterly amusing! You’ve grown bold, young lady. Now you see, even nobles are nothing more than insignificant beings! You have no need to fear them!”
With the sharp, satisfying sound of his boots, Beryal strode elegantly to the large window and flung it open. He cast a lofty gaze toward the Viscount and Viscountess.
“You would fight alongside me, but even that is unnecessary! Whatever you desire shall be fulfilled. Dragons, humans—they will all become sacrifices for me!”
Hearing those words, the Viscount and Viscountess turned even paler, as though only now realizing that he was not human.
“Oh, the Blizzard Dragon. There’s no need even to go out and meet it.”
The dragon appeared on the other side of the trees, just before the mountain. It was quite a large specimen.
As I approached the window, the Viscount, Viscountess, and soldiers shrank away toward the door, letting out faint screams.
Ranvalt and Sieghart, though concerned about their parents’ reactions, remained silent and simply watched.
“What will you do? Shall I make it my prey?”
“…I’ll take the first move, if you don’t mind,” I answered with a smile after a moment of thought.
Beryal smiled contentedly.
“Oceans, become a frozen continent. Land, turn into a silver plate. Bitter yet sweet poison, frigid miasma, traverse the treetops of the coniferous forest and arrive from the eternal night of endless frost.”
As the chant began, a cold wind blew, and the air grew sharp and tense.
The dragon was still some distance away, so I chanted slowly and carefully.
“…To think you’d deliberately respond with water-based magic. How provocative you are today.”
“Bestow an icy bed upon the white night and grant eternal slumber. World, sink into silence! Blanc Froid Ténèbres!”
A glowing white boundary was drawn around the Blizzard Dragon, marking the spell’s effective range. Though it was an area attack, I narrowed the scope as much as possible, yet it was still wide.
Within the range, a freezing mist spread, blinding the view, while the dragon’s piercing cries echoed for some time.
“An aggressive mist of absolute zero and potent poison… Even I would not escape unscathed from that.”
When the mist cleared, the Blizzard Dragon lay poisoned, parts of its body frozen white, gasping for breath.
This was the strongest water-element spell I currently knew.
“At least finish it off,” I said.
“The Blizzard Dragon… is frozen…”
“I’ve never seen or heard of magic like this…”
The Viscount and Viscountess clung to the soldier, trembling as they hid behind him.
“As expected, a mage whom even Baraha sought guidance from…”
“…Sought guidance…!?”
At Ranvalt ’s murmured words, the Viscount and Viscountess showed even greater shock.
“So, what shall we do with these insolent fools? Speak, my contractor, and tell me your will!”
Beryal placed a hand on his chest, drawing one leg back in an exaggeratedly formal bow.
Such an elaborate way to intimidate. Though he never bows to me otherwise, Beryal knows all too well how to instill fear.
Still, there’s no need to frighten them any further.
“Enough of your theatrics. Let’s go home.”
“…How dull,” he replied.
“Iriya … Miss,” Ranvalt called hesitantly. I turned toward him and, making sure the Viscount and Viscountess wouldn’t see, gave him a small wave with a smile as if to say, “It’s fine.”
Then I cast a flight spell and soared out through the window.
