I’m an Immigration Officer!

The plan had gone awry.
“L-Lord Hunter, what do we do now?”
At the terrified soldier’s words, Kaban Vladovich quickly worked his mind.

The most important things in a hunt were adaptability and preparation.
I gathered everything I could.
From weapons to supplies.

He had meticulously prepared everything to hunt the monster known as a dragon.
But now, with two of the most critical components missing, it was obvious the magic scroll Hathanthila had provided would barely achieve half its intended effect.
But it has to be now.

Kaban grit his teeth and spoke.
“…We push ahead.”
“Lord Hunter!? Y-You mean you’re going like this—”

“Damn it, you see that? The cave entrance over there!”
Grabbing the panicked soldier by the collar, he pointed to the upper part of the volcano.
A gaping cave mouth lay wide open.

“For decades, that place was sealed off with its tail. But now, it’s just openly exposed without a single obstacle. That’s proof the creature’s completely let its guard down!”
He remembered seeing traces of fire spirits lingering halfway up the mountain.
It was highly likely the dragon was so overjoyed by visitors that it had grown careless.

Kaban shouted, frustration and urgency mixing in his voice.
“Days like this don’t come easily! It’s our only chance to enter the beast’s nest without a scratch!”
Just as one couldn’t predict natural disasters, the dragon’s whims were equally beyond prediction.
In other words, now was the perfect opportunity to walk straight into its heart.

The Red Dragon, likely entertaining the fire spirits, probably didn’t even know they were right below.
“If we miss this, there’s no guarantee we’ll get another shot! Got it!?”
“B-But what about the mind control!? That was the whole point of this hunt!”

“That…”
For the first time, Kaban was at a loss for words.
Subduing and killing were entirely different challenges.

Killing something was easy. One just had to thoughtlessly, thoroughly carve apart its flesh and body.
But subduing… that was far more difficult.
To restrain a raging being without harming it could only be achieved under overwhelmingly favorable conditions.

And if the target was a dragon? Without blood magic and artifacts, it was nearly impossible.
Everything else didn’t matter. A hunt never went perfectly to plan anyway.
But this—this had to go to plan.

Kaban’s face twisted in frustration as he cursed under his breath.
“Goddamn it…!!”
At this rate, subjugation was impossible.

The only option left would be to kill it.
And then it happened—
FWOOOSH— WHOOSH!!

Suddenly, a massive blaze erupted from the mouth of the cave.
It wasn’t molten lava—just pure, overwhelming fire.
And moments later—

THUD… THUD…
With heavy footsteps, a shadow loomed over the dragon hunting expedition.
“Mnatshil…!”

The volcano’s ancient master had revealed herself.
Though time had gnawed at her, her crimson body, like the setting sun moments before dusk, stood proud atop the cliff.
“H-Hiiiek!!”

“It’s the volcano’s master! The volcano’s master has appeared!”
The soldiers began trembling all over, panic taking hold.
Kaban barked his orders without hesitation.

“Get down! Don’t move a damn muscle! We can’t let it spot us now!”
The moment the command fell, the soldiers flattened themselves to the ground.
Kaban, too, hid behind a rock.

Of all times… for it to show up now…
The timing couldn’t be worse.
The moment he realized the plan was ruined, the volcano’s master appeared.

“It’s like fate itself is standing in my way.”
With that bitter thought, he glared up at the commanding figure of the Red Dragon on the cliff.
“…Huh?”

But something was off.
Next to Mnatshil stood three other beings.
“…”

He pulled a telescope from his coat.
The first thing he noticed were two towering pillars of fire burning beside the dragon.
“Fire spirits…”

As expected, the dragon had let her guard down because of the fire spirits.
But in the dragon’s forelimb… she was cradling something.
“…What is that?”

He adjusted the telescope’s focus.
An enormous, oval-shaped object.
Its surface was studded with crimson spots, like a Red Dragon’s scales.

Kaban Vladovich’s eyes widened.
“No way…”
In his obsession with the hunt and domination, he had forgotten one critical fact.

“Mnatshil… laid an heir…!!!”
All living things had an end, and before that end, they instinctively left behind something to carry on their will.
Dragons were no exception.

A shiver ran down his spine.
Beyond the thrill of the hunt, an intense excitement wrapped around Kaban’s entire body.
I see it.

A new path.
The operation wasn’t a failure after all.
“We revise the plan.”

“Sir? What do you mean?”
Gripping the spear forged from a dragon’s claw, he declared:
“We abandon mind control! Mnatshil’s worthless now. She was going to die of old age anyway. Even if we tamed her, she wouldn’t last a century.”

One by one, the soldiers began lifting their heads, previously buried under the dragon’s oppressive presence.
“But instead…”
Meeting each of their gazes, Kaban raised the spear high.

“We’ll dominate that egg.”
Something even more terrifying than brainwashing.
Turning a dragon into human property from the moment it hatches.

“We begin the operation now. We’ll be the ones to usher in the Age of Man!”
 
****

Meanwhile, the upper slopes of the active volcano—
Three beings stood side by side at the cliff’s edge, having stepped outside for some fresh air, as the spirits inside the cave complained about the stuffy atmosphere.
“The more I hear, the more curious I become.”

Mnatshil opened her jaws wide in amusement, then closed them again.
For hours, she had listened to the stories of the spirits who had roamed the entire world.
Recalling one particularly fascinating tale, she spoke:

“Where did you say that human lives again?”
[The Cross-Line Kingdom, central Urakaras Mountains. That’s the sixth time I’ve said it! Getting old made you deaf too!]
“Ah, forgive me. Such a peculiar name—it makes me want to hear it again.”

She bared her teeth in a grin.
Cross-Line.
The literal meeting place of lines.

And those lines represented races.
Humans, Elves, Werewolves, Quarter-Kraken, Dwarves, Golems… even the inferior blood of the Yongin, kin to her own.
“A nation founded by humans, yet filled with every creature imaginable… I’ve never heard of such a thing in my long life.”

Still stroking the heir she hadn’t yet named, Mnatshil murmured softly.
“And this… Bureau Chief, what did you say his name was?”
[Nathan Kell. I don’t know the meaning of the name.]

“Right. Nathan Kell…”
An awkward name for a dragon’s tongue.
She shifted her gaze down the mountain.

Toward the small village nestled where the volcano’s base ended.
“Humans… those pitiful creatures have always looked up at us with nothing but envy.”
She, too, had her fair share of experiences with humans.

But they were always the same—calling her a “monster” or “volcano master,” worshiping her… or sneaking into her nest to steal treasure.
They sang of destruction—as if it were their only language.
As if they were the rightful masters of the world, humans cast out those who weren’t like them and tried to rule over everything.

“But to think there’d be a human so admirable—one trying to live as just another part of this world.”
If the fire spirit’s words were true, then this Bureau Chief was truly an odd one.
To think he spoke the languages of other races fluently, lowered himself, and elevated his counterparts.

It was… new.
“What kind of being is this Nathan Kell, and what short little life has he lived, I wonder.”
A pure curiosity stirred within her.

The absence of mana meant one didn’t belong to this world.
And yet this man could supposedly speak every language of the world, and even pacified the rage of the fire spirits.
Such a thing was new even to her, after a thousand years of life.

Mnatshil fell into brief thought, then spoke softly.
“If there’s a being with no language barrier at all… perhaps… I could converse with him too.”
Right now, they were speaking in the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) language of spirits. But there was one language Mnatshil hadn’t used in a very long time.

The language of dragons.
A tongue where even the words themselves carried power.
She was far too old and weakened to utter it recklessly now. But in the days when dragons ruled the skies, those words could even bend the laws of the world itself. Could a human possibly wield such a tongue?

The fire spirit nodded.
[It’s possible. Though I doubt that frail human body could withstand it.]
“We’ll see soon enough. So—what does he look like? Let me at least hear his appearance.”

[Well…]
The spirit poured its utmost effort into describing Nathan’s features—at least based on how spirits perceived aesthetics.
Listening intently, Mnatshil eventually nodded.

“Hmm. In that case…”
Raising a single claw, she began scratching at the stone floor, sketching with ease.
In no time at all, a remarkably well-drawn portrait took shape.

Baring her teeth in satisfaction, she asked:
“So, does he look like this?”
[Humans don’t have tails.]

“…Ahem.”
She scratched at the floor again.
Scratch, scratch…

“There, how about now? I believe I’ve drawn him fairly close to your description.”
[Human males have flat chests. That’s a female.]
“How in the blazes would I know! These mammals are far too complicated for my liking.”

Mnatshil scowled deeply, then let out a short burst of flame onto the floor.
“Bah, forget it.”
The Red Dragon plopped down at the cliff’s edge with a heavy thud.

She couldn’t shake the growing curiosity toward this human—one who had managed to spark such intrigue within her.
But that didn’t mean she could just go seeking him out.
This beloved egg needed to remain in the volcano.

It had to absorb the untarnished, pure flame that saturated this place.
For her to abandon that precious opportunity just to meet this Nathan Kell would be foolish.
“Couldn’t we simply bring this Nathan Kell here? If I offer sufficient compensation, surely he’d come, don’t you think?”

[If you wish, we can bring up the suggestion.]
“Truly? In that case, I’ll personally offer prime charcoal—free—for the next four winters!”
And at that moment—

…Twitch.
A sensation brushed the tip of her tail.
An unfamiliar vibration.

“…Seems I’ve left the cave entrance unattended for too long.”
With a quick gesture from Mnatshil, the fire spirits’ expressions tensed as their flames swelled even larger.
Fwoooosh…

The cave interior brightened instantly.
“I only invited these spirits today. Who dares set foot in my nest?”
Her gaze pierced the shadows beside the entrance.

A reply came.
“Oh, master of the volcano.”
A most typical human stepped forth from the darkness.

But… he was different from any human she’d encountered before.
Clad in armor made from dragon scales.
Holding a spear carved from dragon claws.

Mnatshil exhaled a long, tired sigh.
“Ah… one of those who builds achievements from my kin’s corpses. How dreadfully cliché.”
No matter how many new, unique beings emerged in this world, equally trite, shallow ones always appeared as well.

“I’m being devoured by time as it is. If you value your life, wait. Soon you’ll have your chance to claim my flesh.”
Mnatshil lazily flicked her wings in annoyance.
These kinds… they never change, no matter how many ages pass.

She desired only one thing.
For this egg to hatch, for it to grow into the new master of the volcano, to live as a true dragon.
If she could witness that with her own eyes, she didn’t care how the world treated her after death.

“You’ve lost your worth, old dragon.”
But the insignificant human only sneered, shaking his head.
“No one cares about a dying myth anymore. What I want…”

Kaban slowly raised his spear—pointing not at Mnatshil, but a little lower.
Between her forelimbs.
Following the spear’s line, the dragon’s eyes fell there.

A shiver ran across her scales as if they all stood on end.
“…is your heir.”
The spear pointed directly at Mnatshil’s egg.

Her wings flared open as she roared in fury.
“You wretch!!!”
At the same time, the human shouted.

“Now! Fire!”
“W-What!?”
Creaaaak— THWACK!

Beneath the very cliff where she stood, a camouflaged ballista fired a massive steel bolt.
Shreeeek— THUNK!
The bolt sailed upward—impaling the aged dragon’s right wing.

A scream of agony burst forth.
Impossible.
A mere steel bolt damaging a dragon?

But Mnatshil realized immediately how this impossible feat occurred.
“Mithril!?”
The arrowhead, forged from the only metal capable of piercing dragon scales, gleamed red with her blood.

At the same moment, Kaban gripped his spear and roared.
“The hunt begins!”