Barbarian's Adventure in a Fantasy World-Chapter 223: Ignisia the Elder Dragon (2)

A shiver ran through Ketal’s body, a ripple of anticipation he could not contain. Finally, the chance to wield Myst was within his grasp.

He had dreamed of this moment—hungered for it with every fiber of his being. The Wandering Merchant turned to their equipment, working swiftly and efficiently. In the blink of an eye, the dragon’s corpse vanished as if it had never existed.

“We’ll use the Dragon Heart to prepare what’s needed... Once it’s finished, I’ll deliver it to you myself,” the Merchant explained.

“How long will it take?” Ketal asked them, trying to keep the hope in his voice from sounding too desperate. “Would a week be enough?”

“A week...?” The Merchant sounded as if they couldn’t believe what they were hearing. “It’ll take ten years...”

The hopeful gleam in Ketal’s eyes froze in place.

“Ten years?” Ketal barely managed to get the words out, almost choking on disbelief.

“Of course. Did you think letting your body wield Myst would be that easy? Besides, the Dragon Heart isn’t something I can simply manipulate. Without this quest, I wouldn’t have gotten my hands on such a rare material at all...”

It was clear that the reward was no ordinary prize, and the process itself would be arduous, even for the Wandering Merchant. If not for this quest, not even the Merchant could have obtained the Dragon Heart, let alone create a catalyst from it.

“And with your... unusual qualities, ten years is the bare minimum. It could take several decades, depending on how things go...,” the Merchant continued.

Ketal felt the impact like a physical blow. The news was a punch to the gut, stealing the wind from his sails.

“That can’t be...,” Ketal muttered.

The Wandering Merchant regarded him, a note of dry confusion in their voice. “Why are you so upset? Time hardly matters for someone like you...”

“Well, that’s true, I suppose.” Ketal tried to hide his disappointment. In truth, his life stretched ahead in a near-endless span; he had all the time in the world. However, he had let himself hope—hope that he could seize the reward immediately. The sense of loss was unexpectedly heavy.

Ignisia, the Elder Dragon, watched him in silence. She had said little, but her crimson eyes lingered on Ketal’s slumped posture.

After a moment’s contemplation, Ignisia spoke up. “Would you like me to help?”

“Hmm?” Ketal turned to her, his disappointment momentarily forgotten.

“What was that...?” the Merchant asked, caught off guard.

“If I’m understanding correctly, you’re planning to use the Dragon Heart to make a catalyst for handling Myst, right?” Ignisia said. “If that’s the case, I can help. I’m sure I could finish it within a week.”

Ignisia was suggesting that she could create a catalyst powerful enough for Ketal to wield Myst. It was an act of alchemy, an undertaking only the greatest mages or beings could attempt. The Merchant, for all their power, did not use magic themselves; their devices and ingenuity allowed them to achieve similar results, but there were limits to what could be done with artifacts alone.

However, Ignisia was an Elder Dragon, a creature whose very existence was steeped in magic. If she lent her strength, the creation process would not simply be faster; it would be on a different scale entirely.

“What do you think?” she asked, turning to the Merchant.

“It’s fine by me... Are you sure you’re alright with that?” Merchant said, turning their gaze onto Ketal.

“Of course!” Ketal replied immediately, his voice brimming with eagerness. “You’d be helping me, Ignisia?”

“I may have been playing around, but I did attack you seriously. Let’s call this my apology.” Ignisia gave a crooked smile, running her fingers through her hair in embarrassment. But then, her gaze sharpened, and her voice turned a shade more serious. “That’s not the only reason. I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?”

Ignisia nodded. “While the catalyst is being made, about a week, give or take, would you be willing to stay at my lair?”

“Of course I would,” Ketal replied, not missing a beat.

The prospect of wielding Myst was enticing enough, but the chance to stay in an Elder Dragon’s lair? That was the kind of opportunity one only dreamed of. He had no idea what Ignisia’s motives were, but he certainly saw no reason to refuse.

“Then it’s settled. Is that alright with you?” Ignisia asked the Merchant.

“Understood... In that case, I’ll handle cleaning up here. Once everything’s ready, I’ll come find you...”

“Great. Let’s go to the lair together,” Ignisia said, her tone lightening.

“Absolutely,” Ketal answered, grinning. “Though, if you’re planning on teleporting us, that might not work on me.”

“No, that’s fine,” Ignisia said. “I’ll just fold space instead. Now, follow me.”

With the power of the Dragon Tongue, Ignisia snapped her fingers. The world rippled, and both she and Ketal disappeared.

The Wandering Merchant stood alone in the aftermath, silent and motionless. After a long moment, a sigh slipped from behind the mask. “What a day...”

Outwardly, the Merchant maintained an air of composure, as if Ignisia and Ketal’s battle had been no great matter. However, beneath that mask, there was only frustration and hidden anxiety.

Their robe fluttered, and a handful of broken devices clattered to the ground from within its folds.

These were not ordinary tools, but protective devices—artifacts that bordered on absolute defense. In all the centuries the Wandering Merchant had wandered, they had never once failed. Yet now, more than ten of these devices were ruined beyond repair. They were so thoroughly destroyed, not even the Merchant could salvage a single piece.

“All it took was a single blow to ruin them all...,” the Merchant muttered.

During the fight, when Ketal had made a move to attack Ignisia in earnest, the Merchant had stepped in, intervening to block the blow. They had done their best to make it seem like a simple act, but the truth was, the defenses hadn’t stood a chance. The devices had shattered under the strain of Ketal’s attack.

“That monster...”

The Wandering Merchant was a being that had existed since the dawn of time, knowledgeable beyond imagining. Their understanding reached even into the Demon Realms. After all, the Merchant and the Demon Realms shared the same root, in some mysterious way. That was why this situation bothered them so much.

“Why is he still just human...?” The Merchant muttered the question to themselves, confusion and a hint of awe coloring their voice.

***

“This is it,” Ignisia announced.

Ketal looked around, his breath catching as he took in his surroundings. He was inside the lair of an Elder Dragon. Unlike the garish, ostentatious den of the previous dragon, Ignisia’s lair was the very picture of refined luxury. There was elegance in every detail—subtle, understated, but impossible to miss.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Ignisia invited.

“I won’t refuse such hospitality,” Ketal replied. He stretched out on a plush sofa, sinking into the cushions. He had never sat on anything so soft in his life.

“So, why did you invite me here?” he asked her.

“It’s nothing much,” Ignisia said, draping herself across the sofa opposite. She spoke with the easy relaxation of someone at home. “I was just curious about something. You’re the barbarian from the White Snowfield, aren’t you?”

Her question was direct, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

Ketal didn’t try to evade the truth. “That’s right.”

“I thought so...” Ignisia nodded. She’d been nearly certain, given the gray hair and the titanic strength. She wasn’t naive enough to miss such obvious signs. Still, hearing Ketal confirm it left her with a strange, almost nostalgic feeling.

“I knew the barrier had opened, but I never expected to see one of you so soon,” she said quietly.

“I could say the same. I never expected to stand before an Elder Dragon, let alone the architect of the Mage Tower.”

“To hear that from the legendary Ashen-haired Barbarian himself... That’s quite the compliment.” She flashed a wry smile. “I have so many questions I want to ask you. Would you mind?”

“Not at all,” Ketal replied with a small nod. “The feeling is mutual, actually.”

Ketal’s mind drifted back to a conversation he’d had with Arkemis. Long ago, there had been a clash between gods and the Demon Realms, a cataclysm so ancient it was scarcely more than myth. However, there were no records of anything from the Demon Realms emerging into the world after that. Arkemis herself admitted she didn’t fully understand it.

It was a secret lost to history, a mystery buried so deep that even legends could not uncover it.

“Perhaps the dragons know something,” Arkemis had suggested. “Some of the Elder Dragons have been around since before the ancient emperor’s legend. Maybe they remember...”

And now, Ketal found himself face to face with just such a dragon.

***

Ignisia waved her hand, and two glass goblets materialized out of thin air, appearing before them. As soon as the glasses settled onto the table, a fragrant, golden liquor filled each to the brim.

“Cheers,” Ignisia said, lifting her glass.

“My thanks.” Ketal took his own glass, inhaling the aroma before taking a sip. The taste was exquisite, rich and layered. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the flavor.

“This is truly remarkable,” he said.

Ignisia smiled as she swirled her glass. “It’s a vintage that was crafted by a true master two thousand years ago. He only made a handful each year, less than a dozen bottles. This is one of the rarest drinks in the world.”

“A two-thousand-year-old vintage... I’m honored.”

The atmosphere lightened, and Ketal allowed himself to smile in earnest.

“It seems we both have questions for each other,” he said. “Would you mind if I go first?”

Ignisia shrugged. “I suppose it’s only fair, given how I acted before. Ask anything you like.”

“You called yourself an Elder Dragon. That must mean you’ve lived for centuries, if not longer.”

“That’s right,” she replied.

Of all dragons, only a few survived long enough to earn the title of elder. Ignisia was among that rare breed.

“Then... were you alive during the age of the ancient emperor’s legend?”

Ignisia’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Ah... Is that what you wanted to know?”

She understood the weight of his question immediately.

“The continent was in chaos then. It was a matter of great concern for us. In the end, it all came to nothing, but yes, I was there to witness it,” she continued.

So she had lived even before the age of legends. Ketal thought. He couldn’t help but marvel at her long lifespan. How old could she possibly be?

He smiled, satisfied that he would be able to learn so much from her.

“You probably guessed, but I’m one of those you call the Demon Realm’s beings. I lived in the White Snowfield,” he confessed.

“I thought so.”

She had been almost certain, but to hear it from Ketal himself was still astonishing. A being out of legend was standing before her in the flesh.

Ignisia regarded him with a new kind of respect.

“And from what I’ve heard, the Demon Realm beings are considered enemies of the world. Is that true?” Ketal asked her.

“It is,” Ignisia answered without hesitation.

“I see. Then, just how far does that enmity extend?” Ketal asked another question.

“To everything,” Ignisia said simply. “The continent, the world, humans, elves, dwarves, gods, and even demons.”

Literally—there were no exceptions. Not just the material world, but the Spirit Realm, Hell, even the divine. The Demon Realm’s beings were the enemies of the world itself.

“So we’re even lower than the demons,” Ketal muttered as he grimaced.

“In practice, yes.”

“Why?” he asked her.

It was true that most beings from the Demon Realm harbored little affection for the outside world—examples like Nano and the Deep Sea apes made that clear. Even so, that alone didn’t seem enough to justify such absolute hostility.

Ignisia shook her head. “I couldn’t tell you, even if you asked. It’s an absolute truth, something that’s existed since before I was born. Demon Realm beings cannot be assimilated or coexist with the world.”

It was a law of nature, older than history itself.

“That’s why I’m so surprised. I never expected to have a conversation like this with one of you. I was always told it was impossible to speak with your kind,” she continued.

Ketal did not deny it. She wasn’t wrong. Communication was possible in a literal sense. The monsters of the White Snowfield, and even Nano, could talk. However, that didn’t mean they could be reasoned with.

Nano, for example, sought to replace all things with itself. It didn’t understand rejection, and had no desire to. Even when conversation was possible, true dialogue was not. The monsters of the White Snowfield were not much different. They could speak, but they had no interest in conversation. In that sense, Ignisia’s understanding was correct.

“But here I am, talking with you,” Ketal said.

That was the problem. He was an irregularity, a being who shouldn’t exist. He could converse with Ignisia, reason with her, and understand her. That alone set him apart from every other being of the Demon Realms.

“That’s why I’m so perplexed,” Ignisia admitted. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.”

She studied him, as if searching for something that would explain it.

“As far as I know, the only one who’s ever managed to communicate with the world is the Wandering Merchant. Or am I wrong?” she said.

“Huh?” Ketal raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Is the Wandering Merchant one of the Demon Realm’s beings?”

Ignisia had mentioned the Merchant in the same breath as the Demon Realm. However, the Merchant was not trapped in any one place. They traveled the world freely.

“They aren’t a Demon Realm being, but their roots are similar,” Ignisia explained.

“Similar roots?”

“The reason we call you all beings of the Demon Realm is because you’re trapped there. The term refers more to the space than to the individuals. Those who never leave, and destroy any outsider who approaches—the place became known as the Demon Realm, and so its inhabitants became known by that name as well.”

However, there was another word, one even older, that referred to the true denizens of that realm—not just the location, but the ancient, immortal beings who called it home. It was a term so old that only the oldest dragons remembered it.

Ignisia looked Ketal in the eyes, and her voice dropped to a whisper, “Long ago, the beings of the Demon Realm were called... the Oldest Ones.”