Varen fell asleep like he had fainted once he’d been petted to his satisfaction. His breath still whistled hot, the fever clinging to him.
I sat down beside him and stared at his sleeping form. Even though he was right in front of me, I couldn’t shake the anxiety he brought.
The old man approached without a sound.
“Let’s go inside. You need to fill your stomach too.”
Now that he mentioned it, I was going on nearly three days of barely eating. So much had happened that I’d forgotten hunger entirely—until he said it, and my stomach thundered like a storm.
Hugging my empty belly, I looked around. Varen in deep sleep, Ella tearing at grass in complete bliss, Rami hunting crickets.
It was peaceful, but I still felt uneasy about leaving them alone.
“Humans can’t see this place. So rest easy.”
“...Humans are the scariest thing here.”
Being told I was safe from the most dangerous existence finally pushed me to my feet. I stroked Varen’s forehead once more and followed the old man.
The inside of the cabin was more pleasant than I’d expected. Some kind of magic had made it twice as spacious as it looked outside.
A large wooden table sat in the center; to the right was a bed. Kallen lay there, also deep asleep.
I hurried over and placed my fingers beneath her nose, confirming she was breathing comfortably. Only then did relief sink in, and I let out a long breath.
Suddenly, I realized I had too many kids to look after. It felt like being the head of a huge family.
The old man set a plate of warm soup and bread on the table. The smell hit me so hard it made my ribs ache with hunger.
“This is all the food fit for a human.”
“This is a feast. Thank you for the meal.”
I sat immediately and devoured the soup. The moment it touched my tongue, tears stung my eyes. A broth with no solids tasted better than a high-end restaurant.
When I finished the last piece of bread, the old man waved his fingers over a brass cup. Cold water filled the empty vessel.
As soon as the hunger faded, a savage thirst struck. I didn’t even have time to marvel at the magic.
I gulped down the water. Thinking back, when I’d jumped into the ravine, I’d been so focused on the injured kids that I hadn’t even taken a sip myself.
The life-giving cold ran down my cracked throat, waking every cell in my body.
“Puha! Wow... I finally feel alive.”
“You must care for your own body. If the guardian collapses, what will the baby dragon do?”
He put playful emphasis on ‘guardian’ and ‘baby.’ I gave a weak laugh.
“True. I have to stay sturdy if I’m going to feed the kids.”
“Hahaha, I understand that feeling. I have many young ones to look after myself.”
A large window sat in one wall of the cabin. When the old man whistled, a blue bird flew in through the open frame.
It was about the size of a child’s fist, wings fluttering furiously. It circled above his head, then landed daintily on his shoulder. The sight was so magical I couldn’t help but gasp.
“The forest is full of killing intent. Likely humans searching for the dragon.”
I looked between him and the blue bird with wide eyes. It wasn’t surprising—it was exactly what I’d expected.
The old man chuckled at my reaction and stroked the bird’s chest with his fingertip.
“He’s the one who brings me news. I call him ‘Serif.’”
A blue bird that brought news.
It reminded me of an old cartoon—where a blue lark was the only friend of a princess trapped in a castle. It was beautiful.
“Chirp chirp! Chyaek!”
This one looked like a blue sparrow no matter how I squinted. Still.
“Hi, Serif. I’m Ceryl. Our names sound similar, huh? Nice to meet you.”
“Chyaaaek! Chirp chirp!!”
His deep, raspy cry didn’t match his cute round body at all. If you closed your eyes, he sounded more like a crow than a sparrow.
After delivering his report, Serif flew back out the window. The sky was already turning to sunset. His loud cries echoed as he vanished.
“...He’s very healthy. Tiny thing’s built like a general.”
“Don’t judge by appearance. Same with your dragon.”
Fair. I never expected a house-sized dragon to faint every other day like a frail newborn.
The old man hummed a tune and flicked his fingers toward the kitchen. Water droplets floated in from nowhere, carrying an old tin.
When he opened it, it was full of fragrant tea leaves. He filled brass cups with hot water and scattered a few leaves. Two steaming cups appeared instantly.
He handed me one with a gentle smile. The warm heat melted my tired body and mind.
“How did you come here?”
By ‘here,’ the spirit probably didn’t mean the cabin. And he wouldn’t care how Ceryl Aylos ended up in the monster management facility.
Tapping my fingertip against the cup, I finally answered.
“I didn’t come by myself.”
“Hmm. If not by yourself, then someone summoned you?”
“I’m not sure. I just woke up one day, and I was in this world.”
Pure truth, no more no less. The spirit’s brow rose with interest.
He stroked his beard again, eyes wandering, then asked a longer, more pointed question.
“You already knew what I was. How did you know?”
There was no way around it—I had to reveal I was a transmigrant.
I’d told Varen not to ask, but I owed the spirit my honesty. I decided to tell him plainly.
“I read a book about this place in the world I lived in before.”
I couldn’t exactly say this world was the setting of a novel—he might take offense—so I rounded it off gently.
“Oh? A book. What kind?”
“Well... something like a history book?”
“Fascinating. A record of this world’s history exists in another world.”
A small prick of guilt hit me, but technically it wasn’t a lie.
If you really thought about it, Prince of Fire: Heir of the Dragon Slayer was practically the history of the Kingdom of Alberian.
The spirit stared at me with an unreadable expression. When I didn’t look away, he tilted his head with interest.
“And how is it, seeing a world you only read about?”
“It’s amazing. Everything I imagined is right in front of me.”
“Does it differ much from what you imagined?”
“Almost the same. Oh—if I had to pick a difference, the dragons are way more magnificent than I expected.”
I shrugged and sipped the warm tea. The spirit laughed loudly every time I said a sentence.
“Yes, dragons are far grander in person.”
“The word ‘grand’ isn’t enough. Dragons are the most perfect creations made by the gods.”
“Ha ha, are they?”
“Absolutely. Majestic, beautiful, elegant. And they’re cute, too. Especially Varen—he’s ridiculously handsome even among dragons. Not that I’ve seen any others yet, but anyway...”
“......”
“Should I stop?”
The spirit slowly averted his eyes. I wanted «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» to brag even more about my kid, but I decided to wrap it up there.
The magically heated tea didn’t cool even over time. The warm tea, the cozy room, the frequent hearty laughs—
Everything around me put me at ease. It was the first sense of relief I’d felt since arriving in this world.
Maybe that’s why—before I knew it, the worries I’d kept buried for so long slipped out.
“I didn’t finish reading the book. I don’t know how this world ends.”
The spirit burst into booming laughter, even slapping his thigh.
“What a shame. If you’d read to the end, you could’ve become Alberian’s great prophet.”
“Sir, by any chance—”
“Sorry, but I don’t have the ability to see the future.”
Of course. No matter how wise he seemed, he was still only a character in the story.
The spirit’s eyes gleamed with interest. He leaned forward, shoulders toward me.
“But I know the past you don’t. From the moment this world was born.”
The novel began with war. Human armies burning down a mountain.
Good for catching a reader’s attention—when I was outside the story.
But since I was living in this world, learning the past couldn’t hurt.
“Please tell me. The past I don’t know.”
“It’ll be a dull tale.”
“I think I’ll be free tonight.”
The spirit emptied his cup and looked out the window. His clear eyes gazed toward a time long gone.
“Long ago, the world didn’t reek of blood like this. Nature was abundant, and humans were pure.”
The simple beginning felt like a peaceful fairy tale.
Before the kingdom was founded, Alberian Island spent the whole year bathed in warm sunlight. The sea around it served as a perfect natural fortress against outsiders.
In summer, gentle rains deepened the greenery. Trees bore fruit in clusters, and the soil yielded grain.
Nature provided abundance, and humans knew gratitude.
“In those days, I didn’t even need to cast a line—fish came up to me on their own. And humans brought me delicious breads and fruits in return.”
From the way he phrased it, the small offering I’d left for the red salmon must’ve been the first one he’d received in ages.
The spirit paused to reminisce, then smiled bitterly.
“I gave plenty—more than enough for full bellies. But one day, towns sprang up. Then markets. And my river changed as well.”
Markets are where goods are exchanged. Money is assigned value. And that means wealth is born.
“Humans began dumping poison into the river. The fish downstream all died. It was the work of humans upstream—done to monopolize the fish.”
