SWNOVELXO 25
It was the first weekend after entering the academy.
Adrian Heather strolled leisurely through the forest surrounding the academy. The forest was serene, teeming with a variety of flora and fauna. While there was no way to know how the plants reacted to his presence, the animals instinctively sensed that Adrian was not an ordinary human. The weak, the fragile, and the wounded gravitated to him easily. In contrast, those that were strong, resilient, and full of vitality kept a wary distance from the dragon, driven by pure instinct.
The academy’s forest was home to many small animals.
Even as Adrian walked with an air of indifference, a few rabbits would occasionally nuzzle their soft fur against his feet. Of course, the dragon never stopped walking for their sake, nor did he kneel down to pet them.
After walking a while with a few animals following behind, Adrian took a moment alone by the lakeside, drinking in the stillness as he drank the water. It was a perfectly peaceful moment.
After taking a slow walk around the afternoon forest, Adrian was passing through the central garden of the academy when he noticed something. At the far end of the path, opposite the dormitories, one building still had its lights brightly on.
Who would still have the lights on during the weekend?
Without realizing it, Adrian’s steps naturally drifted in that direction.
Upon closer inspection, the building with the lights on turned out to be the training hall.
When he pushed open the massive double doors of the hall and stepped inside, a wave of heat brushed across his face. Unsurprisingly, the one using the training facility was Mikhail. The prince was exhaling in harsh bursts, his chest rising and falling dramatically with each labored breath.
Thud, thud—
The sound of Adrian’s footsteps echoed loudly across the vast hall as he walked further in.
“You’re working hard.”
Mikhail lay sprawled at the center of the training hall, utterly spent. He was still struggling to catch his breath and didn’t respond to Adrian’s voice.
Adrian bent his knees and looked into the prince’s face. Mikhail was inhaling with his entire body, gulping in air like a man drowning in fatigue.
The Gold Dragon stared silently at the strands of bright silver hair splayed messily across the polished floor.
Perhaps the love of the sword really was a destiny tied to that bloodline.
Adrian’s elegantly shaped lips parted, and without thinking, he voiced a question.
“I’ve been wondering. You’re not planning on becoming a Sword Master so you can seize the throne or start a war, are you?”
At the strange question, Mikhail—still lying on the floor—immediately furrowed his brow.
“…Why the hell would you ask something like that?”
His reply was curt and sharp.
Adrian stretched out his fingers and continued, speaking as he stepped a little closer to the prince, who was still catching his breath on the floor.
“It’s a fair question. You already have power, after all.”
Mikhail, showing a hint of curiosity about where Adrian was going with this, remained silent and let him continue.
“Your looks are already exceptional. At this point, there’s no real reason—or person—who’d oppose a marriage. And when it comes to wealth, the royal treasury of Rustavaran is known for its solid footing. Even so, I’ve got to say—it’s impressive that you push yourself like this every single day.”
It’s just… unusual, Adrian murmured to himself as he looked at the prince.
Becoming a Sword Master wasn’t usually the end goal.
People pursued that path for tremendous wealth, glory, or perhaps love and success. Every human Adrian had ever known had done so for reasons like those.
But the prince? He already had all of that.
He was someone who could obtain anything he wanted without ever reaching the level of a Sword Master. And the rest of Rustavaran’s royals and nobles shared Adrian’s exact thoughts.
“…What if I told you I wanted to become a Sword Master to start a war?”
Mikhail let out a cold, sharp laugh.
Adrian met his crimson gaze without flinching. It was exactly the same shade as Carlo’s.
Hmm… The dragon’s golden eyes narrowed slightly.
“…”
“Even if I did, what would you do about it?”
“Well… I wasn’t asking because I planned to do anything.”
Whether humans waged war or not, it didn’t concern the dragons.
Just as Adrian turned to leave, no longer having anything to say, the prince’s blunt voice rang out behind him.
“I’m doing it just because I think I can.”
Adrian turned his head at the words, catching the low tone in the prince’s voice.
“Do I need a reason for that?”
Adrian’s eyes swept over the prince lying on the training hall floor.
Even if Mikhail had an extraordinary talent for the sword, becoming a Sword Master was… quite literally, on a whole different level. And a human who reached too far above their own ability often met with disappointment—or ruin.
Having seen more than enough of those kinds of people, the dragon offered a bit of advice to the young human.
“Look at the Headmaster. Some things just can’t be achieved through hard work alone.”
Mikhail gave a derisive snort at that.
“What the hell do you know? And what if it can be achieved through hard work?”
Adrian snapped out of his thoughts at Mikhail’s sharp reply.
He’d momentarily forgotten—he wasn’t talking to some representative of humanity.
He was talking to a seventeen-year-old boy.
He’d aimed that piece of advice at the wrong person.
“…Right. I must’ve sounded like I was picking a fight with someone who’s just working hard. My bad. I’ll head back to my room.”
“Stop right there.”
Still lying on the floor, Mikhail grabbed the wooden practice sword with one hand and spoke through clenched teeth, glaring at Adrian’s back.
“Hey!”
But Adrian didn’t stop at the call of a human so much younger than himself.
That was when it happened—smack!
Adrian lifted his arm swiftly, snatching the wooden sword clean out of the air as it came slicing toward him.
Hmph.
The Gold Dragon let out a quiet grunt, clearly unimpressed.
“Where the hell did you learn to draw your sword the moment words don’t work?”
Adrian casually turned, about to flick the wooden blade out of Mikhail’s hand—
But the moment he turned, the prince’s striking face was suddenly right in front of his.
Mikhail had grabbed Adrian by the collar and yanked him toward him.
The dragon didn’t resist—he allowed himself to be pulled in.
Truth be told, Adrian wasn’t particularly skilled at dealing with children. And at times, his words only poured more oil onto the fire of someone else’s anger.
The two young men locked eyes, staring straight at one another.
Then, the Gold Dragon’s lips parted.
“…Have you had dinner? Want to go to the dining hall together?”
As if his fury had instantly evaporated, Mikhail let go of Adrian’s collar with a dull thump.
“Mind your own business.”
Adrian patted down the spot on his uniform where he’d been grabbed. Mikhail had pulled so hard, the fabric was wrinkled beyond salvation.
“We’re roommates. Kind of hard not to care, you know?”
Watching Adrian respond with that nonchalant tone, Mikhail let out a short hah, clicking his tongue in disbelief.
What a bizarre guy.
He’d only ever seen commoners bowing and scraping before royalty, but this one—this guy was something else entirely. So fresh, he almost wanted to chop him up and toss him in a salad.
“Get out.”
Mikhail pointed toward the door with his index finger, spitting out the words like he was chewing them.
Adrian smirked, stretching his lips wide in a silent scoff before turning casually on his heel.
Seriously. All he had to do was say no—what the hell was that reaction?
***
Carlo de Inehart sat on a golden throne.
One arm rested on the armrest, his head tilted slightly in its direction.
His throne stood at the top of a staircase so tall, it was impossible to count the number of steps.
“Are you there?”
“…”
His voice echoed clearly through the empty audience chamber of the royal palace.
“Luce. You’re right there, aren’t you?”
The dragon didn’t answer his murmured call.
Only his golden eyes gleamed faintly from the shadows behind the throne.
Carlo curled the corner of his lips in quiet satisfaction.
“Yes. Keep watching from there. This is all thanks to you, after all.”
The Gold Dragon stood silently in the darkness, looking down at the heap of dead humans bleeding out at the foot of the throne.
Only his radiant golden eyes glowed within the shadows that cloaked his body.
“I’ve decided on the name for our kingdom, Luce.”
Carlo lowered his gaze, running his hand smoothly over the surface of his throne, forged entirely of gold.
“Rustavaran.”
He bent down at the base of the throne and picked up a sword.
It was soaked in human blood—each movement sent thick droplets trailing across the floor.
They matched the rivulets of blood still dripping from the countless corpses strewn beneath the throne.
“We’re going to build an unshakably powerful nation. Rustavaran will be the strongest kingdom on the entire continent.”
We? Who’s “we”?
But the Gold Dragon gave no voice to the thought. He remained silent.