# Chapter 38: Everyone Loves Children
Northern Empire, Three Mountains City, Imperial Capital.
The royal guards of the Imperial Morlai Palace had witnessed Nostradamus, the Empire's Chief Archmage, enter the royal study for several hours before walking out with a grave expression. The look on his face appeared deeply worried, as if he had learned of some unfavorable news.
But shortly after, he shook his head, let out a relieved chuckle, and then teleported away, destination unknown.
At first, the guards didn't think much of it. After all, the Archmage had been the Imperial Emperor's tutor during his youth and early manhood, had once assisted the Emperor in defeating other princes to seize the imperial throne, and had served as a military strategist to crush the Orc army. The relationship between the two was inherently close—Nostradamus could even enter and exit the palace without needing to request permission, simply walking straight in. Although his expression was somewhat off this time, it was still within normal bounds.
They initially assumed this was just an ordinary meeting between teacher and student. After all, the Emperor had only recently annihilated the Orc Royal Court, so it was only natural for these two great figures to catch up.
But in truth, while this explanation was largely correct, there were still some minor differences.
Year 832 of the Falling Stars Era, July 23rd. After several days of contemplation, analysis, and research, a secret directive was transmitted through various channels to all of the Empire's high-ranking officials and top-tier combat forces.
The author of this directive was none other than Israel Diamond, His Majesty the Imperial Emperor.
The Southern Fortress Cluster, the Northwestern Twin Duchies, the Northern Mountain Passes, the Northern Lands, and the Eastern Frontier Coast—thanks to the convenience of magic, everyone received this directive before long. All regions of the Empire except the center began to take action.
Some furrowed their brows, some grew anxious, a portion dismissed it as unimportant, and many more began intensive preparations for war according to the directive's instructions.
The military, which had been immersed in joy over the annihilation of the Orcs, now found itself busy once again. Of course, this was under the guise of drills and routine training, but anyone could sniff out something amiss—no matter how much they called it an exercise, the tension of impending war could not be erased.
Moreover, the administrative departments that had already relaxed also began collecting grain and fortifying defenses. Most of these fortifications were not ordinary but specially constructed anti-air raid shelters. The lower-ranking soldiers might not notice, but many high-ranking officers could see at a glance that these defenses were not aimed at ordinary civilized races but seemed designed to guard against flying beasts.
For instance, dragons!
In the Morlai Palace, within the royal study, the Imperial Emperor was personally placing an Orc skull on the corner of his desk. This skull bore no ornamentation—even the scars and cracks on it had not been repaired. Yet even so, it was the most precious collectible on this desk, bar none.
Because this was the skull of the last Great Khan of the Orcs. Barring any accidents, this would be the greatest achievement of His Majesty the Emperor's life.
Purely from an emotional standpoint, Israel naturally wanted to believe what Nostradamus had said earlier.
He was particularly interested in Joshua's account of the dragon clan's attack. This Imperial Emperor naturally had his own channels to investigate and analyze such matters. One must understand that dragon-beast attacks on villages occurred everywhere, not just in the Northern Lands. If one didn't pay attention, they might simply dismiss it as a remnant issue of the Black Tide. But if one thought in other directions, it was indeed very suspicious.
Even though he came from a military background and his path to the throne was not peaceful, Israel could not sit idly by while dragon-beasts caused widespread panic and devoured his nation's people. He was not so cold-blooded as to allow that.
For this reason, despite lacking concrete evidence, he issued orders to prepare defenses and a secret directive to investigate the current situation of the Five-Colored Dragon Clan.
And in the Northern Lands' Moldavia.
The tale of the Lord slaying dragons was slowly spreading.
This was perfectly normal. After all, no one had ordered a gag order or concealment. Everyone had seen Joshua riding Black, walking on a trail of flames, charging out of the city toward the north. A few people spread the word, and soon the entire city knew.
Whether at the local Mercenary Guild or the gathering places of foreign Adventurers, whether in taverns or on Willow Street, there were always people who, after drinking, swore they had seen several massive dragon heads displayed in the Lord's Mansion hall, proving the Lord's dragon-slaying deeds.
If Joshua heard this, he would probably just laugh it off. These bragging Adventurers weren't entirely wrong—but the dragon heads displayed in the Lord's Mansion were those of the Black Erosion Dragon and the Ice Fang Dragon, not the White Dragon from this recent hunt.
And in the northern part of the city, a scholar's family welcomed two new members.
Edward, nearly seventy years old, had some gray at his temples. Wearing alchemical spectacles, he stood at the door with his maid, looking at the two somewhat nervous children before him. His gray pupils radiated a sense of affection.
The boy and girl before him shared the same platinum-blonde hair. The girl had a long ponytail, while the boy, like his father, wore a hunter's short braid bound with a headband. Their eyes were the gray pupils common to Northerners, clearly showing pure Northern bloodlines.
"Ivan, Amira, don't be afraid."
Taking a step forward, the old man gathered both children into his arms. His voice was filled with compassion as he gently comforted these poor children who had lost their parents not long ago: "Children, Grandpa's home... is your new home now."
In truth, Edward was not the father of the hunter Andre, but his younger uncle. However, back in the day, he didn't want to stay home and become a hunter, which led to conflict with his family. He then ran away from home, following a dragon-drawn caravan to the Imperial Capital to make his way.
Ten years later, he returned with his learning, becoming a teacher and scholar in the Northern Lands. But due to the earlier conflicts, he rarely contacted his family. He only went back a few times when his parents and eldest brother passed away. This younger brother's relationship with his eldest brother was naturally not very good—quite distant. But now, no matter what conflicts existed, they had become insignificant under the weight of time and death. Having no descendants of his own, when Edward learned that his eldest brother's son and wife had both died in a dragon-beast attack, he felt as if the sky had collapsed and nearly fainted.
Even for commoners, the continuation of bloodline was extremely important. Struck by such a heavy blow, even his steady temperament could not bear it. Fortunately, his maid later found out that in that village where almost everyone had died, two children had miraculously survived—and they happened to be the descendants of the hunter Andre. Between great sorrow and great joy, this scholar immediately sent people to find his eldest brother's last descendants and brought them to the main city.
Being embraced by this old man who claimed to be his grandfather, Ivan was still a bit nervous. But a child's unique intuition told him that this old man harbored no ill will toward him or his sister—only genuine joy and affection. So his tense body gradually relaxed, and even the sadness settled in his heart began to surge up.
But then, he held back the tears that wanted to flow. Instead, he shook his head and spoke softly in a young but firm voice: "I won't forget."
"...Won't forget what?"
Edward was startled. He hadn't quite heard clearly.
Ivan exchanged a glance with his sister Amira, then took a deep breath and said: "I will never forget those monsters!"
Those monsters! Those dragons!
They had destroyed the village where he had lived since childhood, killed his loving parents, and burned everything in his memories to ashes... Although the terrifying aura still made him tremble just recalling it, he would never forget the enemies of his life!
Even hearing that the local young Lord had already gone to the dragon's nest and succeeded in slaying dragons did not diminish his hatred one bit.
Dragons—such creatures should not exist in this world!
Meeting the gaze of this young child, hearing Ivan's resolute words, Edward was silent for a moment. Then he revealed a joyful smile, laughing louder and louder until he was roaring with laughter.
"Excellent!"
After laughing, he voiced his loud approval. The old man's eyes shone with the same light as the boy's. He heavily patted the boy's shoulder and said in a firm tone: "It's wonderful that you haven't developed a shadow over dragons because of this tragedy! The blood of hunters always flows in our family's veins. Even in death, one should not fear their prey!"
Hatred might only breed new hatred, but hatred was also the greatest driving force. As a scholar, Edward naturally understood this principle.
But he was certainly not someone who preached letting go of hatred. As a pure-blooded Northerner, even after studying in the Imperial Capital for ten years, he couldn't change the stubborn temper in his bones—if someone hit you, hit them back; if you bleed, make the enemy bleed too; even if you die, take those bastards down to hell with you!
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! If dragons killed your parents, then make dragon-slaying your life's work. For Northerners, this was the most normal logic imaginable.
"I... I think so too!"
The little girl beside him, Amira, also clenched her small fists. She spoke in an equally firm voice: "I'm the same as my brother! If it's about killing those monsters, I want to go too!"
"Excellent! You're both good children!"
Amid Ivan and Amira's soft exclamations, Edward laughed heartily. Then, excitedly, he scooped them both up in his arms: "Even if Grandpa has to spend every last coin of savings, I'll make sure you get the best education! Ouch!"
Crack!
His movement suddenly froze: "My back..."
The maid beside him skillfully came forward, set the two children down, then lifted the old man who had thrown out his back, carrying him on her shoulder back to his room. Under the maid's call, the boy and girl followed her steps dazedly into the house.
Night gradually fell, and lamplight lit up in this small house. The once-quiet scholar's home now echoed with the sounds of children's activities. The aroma of food filled the air, and everyone had found their own purpose.
And in a small village somewhere in the Western Mountains.
A golden-haired Paladin, wielding a warhammer and clad in blood-stained white armor adorned with the seven holy emblems of the Seven Gods—though only the emblem of the God of Life was glowing—silently dragged a massive dragon-beast whose head had been crushed out of the forest, arriving before the anxiously waiting villagers.
"Alright, you're safe now. This is the last frenzied dragon-beast."
Beside this Paladin was a towering pile of dragon-beast corpses, numbering in the dozens. Tossing the corpse in his hand onto the pile, the Paladin clapped his hands and said in a flat voice: "But although the surrounding monsters have all been wiped out by me, you must not let your guard down. Evil forces are spreading. I think you'd be better off relocating closer to a larger city. It would be safer."
His voice was somewhat muffled due to his helmet: "If you stay in the mountains, next time I might not be here."
"You're right, Sir Knight. We're already preparing our things."
The leading village elder quickly nodded. He bowed gratefully, then pulled a pouch from his bosom, offering it with both hands, and said respectfully: "This is for you, sir..."
"I need no reward."
Before the other could finish, the Paladin reached out and pushed the pouch away, refusing the gesture. His muffled voice came from behind the helmet, calm and steady: "Helping humanity is the Church's purpose. Instead of giving money to me, it's better to buy more clothes for the children. You should also prepare some weapons to defend yourselves."
"Sigh... you knights never accept rewards, completely different from those Lords. We want to show our gratitude but can't find a way..."
After several attempts, all refused, the old man sighed helplessly and tucked the pouch back into his bosom. He looked as if he wanted to say more, but at that moment, a somewhat nervous little girl sneaked out from behind the village elder. Before the elder could react, she ran up to the Paladin.
"Knight Uncle, this is for you."
She held out a wooden amulet.
In her slightly dirty little hands, she offered an amulet. Though it looked somewhat crude, the carving marks showed it had been made with great care.
The Knight was silent for a moment. Then, from within his helmet came a short, muffled sound—it seemed to be a laugh.
Next, he knelt on one knee, taking the amulet from the girl's hands. Placing one hand on her head, a voice that finally carried some warmth emerged from behind the helmet: "Thank you, child. Your blessing is my motivation."
"This is the best reward."
After solemnly hanging the amulet on his wrist, the Paladin turned decisively and departed amid the villagers' thanks.
The Paladin Loranda's journey, caused by getting lost, continued.
(To be continued.)