"We'll formalize the agreement! An alliance is definitely in order! Mynoghra will lead! But first, let's establish ranking. We'll each put forward our strongest and show our resolve—of course, we're well aware you all possess overwhelming power. But we have to prove we're no pushovers, or the whole deal is off!"
Doban declared this with boisterous conviction.
Takuto watched the display with a hint of amusement. They had been rushing things the past few days. A bit of this kind of entertainment was permissible, perhaps even desirable.
You might call it a break. Haste makes waste, and no biological entity can run indefinitely without rest.
Even as a mock battle against a nation not currently at war, this could be framed as an exercise in combat tactics.
Having somewhat recovered from seasickness, Takuto received a telepathic note from Atou informing him that Mortar was feeling a bit reserved after the earlier exchange. Takuto responded by giving Doban a larger-than-usual nod.
"Hmm. A contest of strength, you say? The King... the King also sees no issue with that. So, what kind of warrior will the great, rugged men of the sea present?"
This was genuinely intriguing.
Sending any common dwarf warrior would be anticlimactic. Even if they had someone considered formidable among their own ranks, the caveat 'among dwarves' would still apply.
That would be underwhelming. Lacking both impact and genuine power.
"Heh heh heh, prepare to be amazed! Prepare to be stunned! Hey! It's your turn! Bring it out!"
But contrary to Takuto's expectations, it arrived right there.
*'Takuto. Something is approaching. I sense it.'*
*'Hmm... this aura. Some kind of monster? Doesn't seem aquatic, though. What is it?'*
Takuto and Atou exchanged silent telepathic remarks.
Atou used the hero's supernatural senses, Takuto used some unknown, enigmatic power...
Before long, with heavy, audible steps, it approached to a distance audible to everyone.
Takuto and the others turned their gaze toward the source, toward the massive staircase descending into the ship's interior, visible between the pillars just behind where the dwarves were seated.
"This is it! Our... ultimate fighting force!"
And then, exactly as the description 'oozing forth' might aptly convey, the dragon appeared before Takuto and his companions.
"Oh, a dragon."
"A dragon, you say?"
"This is quite surprising..."
Takuto, Atou, and Elder Mortar—each being astonished meant it was fair to say Mynoghra had given them quite a surprise.
That alone was enough to put Doban in high spirits. In contrast, Tonukapoli wore a somewhat exasperated expression, having a rough idea of what had caught Mynoghra off guard.
"How about that! This is our trump card!"
Takuto's attention turned to the dragon.
It was perhaps ten meters long, with reddish-brown scales and sharp claws. Its reptilian eyes glinted, and its massive wings seemed slightly small given its body's bulk.
Calling it 'orthodox' might come off as a bit cliché, but there it was—a dragon of the kind spoken of in various legends and games, undeniably real and present.
"Gugigigi."
The dragon laughed. It carried a tone of pride, an air of superiority as it savored the reactions of the astonished group.
It was clear proof of intelligence. The moment it looked at Takuto and Atou and showed a flicker of surprise, it demonstrated a keen understanding of their relative standing.
Despite that, its posture still proclaimed itself the apex—arrogant, proud, ferocious, and above all, powerful.
The very embodiment of the dragon as Takuto knew it had manifested before him.
Where his earlier seasickness had gone, he couldn't say, but now his eyes sparkled, his heart racing at the sight of this fantastical creature for the first time.
If this were the Great Cursed Realm, he would have leaped with joy. But here, they were in a foreign land, currently in the midst of negotiations.
Even Takuto, taken as he was, restrained his feelings and observed the situation.
Upon that, he cross-referenced his own knowledge and calmly steered the conversation to benefit Mynoghra.
"Mortar, what stage is this?"
Dragons had stages. Takuto clearly remembered Mortar mentioning this before.
Lower, middle, upper... and then transcendent ranks.
Of course, strength increased with each rank. By the time one reached the transcendent or even upper ranks, they became beings of legend and history, yet dragons remained a terror.
On this continent, it was said the holy nations had culled them all in the past, but during their heyday, they possessed power that could sometimes defeat even high-ranking holy knights or saintesses.
If true, they were utterly fascinating beings.
"This is a mid-rank dragon, my. How terrifying... It's been 120 years since I've seen one in person. They used to be somewhat numerous on this continent too, but they were all hunted down by Quolia."
"I see."
Old Mortar's exclamation-laden explanation subtly hinted at an import from another continent, which Takuto picked up on correctly, assembling disparate pieces of information in his mind at high speed.
The other continent, where information was still lacking. In the current situation, it wasn't worth serious effort, nor did he have the luxury to spare, but the revelation was shocking enough to make a little exploration seem worthwhile.
Still...
Dragons were quite powerful.
In Eternal Nations, "dragon" covered a vast spectrum, from beings no different from common lizards to powerful entities that could fell heroes.
In fact, there were dragon nations and even dragon heroes. NPCs could be dragons, and with luck, one might incorporate them into their own forces.
In that regard, Takuto was somewhat interested in these assets.
What level of military strength did they represent? How could they be deployed going forward? He suspected hidden assets, but what they'd brought out was unexpectedly interesting—unpredictable and impressive.
Of course, he let none of that show.
"A mid-rank, you say. If I recall correctly, they breathe fire and understand human language perfectly. Combat ability is equal to or slightly above a high-ranking holy knight. With proper equipment and integration into military operations, they'd be definitively superior."
"Hmm..."
Atou's words were appreciative, but the actual assessment was that integrating them into the army was a bit uncertain.
Based on Old Mortar's words and their demeanor, it was almost certain these were imports from another continent.
If that's the case, then the numbers are insufficient. Dragons are indeed powerful beings, each possessing strength equal to a Holy Knight.
But we have former Holy Knights who have switched sides to become Ira's knights, and we also have subordinates that Mynoghra can boast of.
Even if we provided equipment to them and integrated the dwarf units into our forces, without sufficient numbers, they would be a drop in the bucket as a fighting force.
If they were able to breed, their attitude would be quite different. Besides, the moment they arrived in the state, such signs or scents should have been lingering.
While they scored full marks for romance and potential, the honest assessment of their current status would generously place them at twenty to thirty points out of a hundred.
However, the dwarves did not seem to think so.
"Aha-ha-ha-ha! So even the King of Ruin didn't know we had dragons! How about it? A friendly spar between this guy and your warriors? You've brought someone along too, right?"
They were in excellent spirits. Led by Fleet Admiral Doban, the captains were all swaying their portly bodies as they laughed.
They seemed to be quite proud of their prize.
Watching them made it feel like they were straying further and further from the main point of the discussion.
It now seemed less about preserving the dwarves' pride and more about finding some way to impress Mynoghra.
Originally, this meeting was being held primarily to conclude an alliance for preparedness against the Northern Orthodox Continental Federation.
It was not for the excitement of a power struggle,nor to force Mynoghra to acknowledge them.
"They are getting a bit carried away. Should I educate them?"
"Atou."
"Ugh, my apologies, Lord Takuto."
To make matters worse, Atou's mood had begun to plummet.
She could not tolerate any insult to Mynoghra— or in this case, to Takuto— more than anything, and found the dwarves' arrogance utterly unforgivable.
A retainer who naturally believed that all living things should bow their heads before Takuto Ira was a very loyal and dependable presence,but she also had the problem of frequently verging on running out of control.
"You don't need to personally intervene. A dragon is far too trivial a target for Atou."
*"Takuto..."*
Of course, Takuto had changed from the old days and was now quick and seamless with follow-up telepathic communication.
Recently, Takuto had also been getting better day by day at handling Atou.
Takuto himself was aware of this, but it was a slight cause for concern—it wasn't entirely a good thing to become too skilled at this.
Atou was a precious existence to him. Rather than pulling the reins and moving her as he pleased, he preferred a relationship that was, in a sense, equal.
Of course, from the Dark Elves' perspective, they would be in trouble if Takuto didn't firmly control Atou, who tended to go on rampages...
No one spoke of this issue openly, but it was a matter where subtle differences in perspective and understanding arose depending on one's position.
That said, it was also a fact that thanks to Takuto firmly keeping Atou in check, the dwarves and the dragon here weren't getting skewered by tentacles.
Whether they knew this or not, the dwarves, high-spirited from having the dragon brought out, were drinking merrily, thinking their honor had been restored.
It was a defeat, but an honorable one. They had bowed their heads, but only after giving the other side a run for their money—this was the position they were aiming for.
Conversely, for Mynoghra, they had to emphasize dominance from an overwhelming position. There was the fact that, given their long-standing relationship with Fonkavun, they couldn't appear too compromising, and above all, a weak appearance did not suit the nation ruled by Takuto Ira.
*(Well, they certainly are laughing in high spirits. Without even knowing what the king has brought...)*
In any case, regardless of the earlier circumstances, the outcome was already practically decided.
Elder Mortar watched the dwarves with a gaze that was almost pitying.
He understood that they, too, had their pride as a race and as leaders, but he wished they would better comprehend the disparity in their respective military strength and power.
Conversely, he felt pride in how they had made the correct choice during that first audience with the king.
Because back then, they had immediately glimpsed even a fraction of the infinite knowledge, magic, and power the king concealed, and that was precisely why they could now stride forward toward a glorious future as citizens of Mynoghra.
That said, they would have to maintain friendly relations with the dwarves as well.
Regardless of how the current battle would end, if they were looking toward the future, they wanted to use this contact as a precious opportunity to deepen their exchange.
The king's policy, in truth, was by no means conciliatory or peaceful as his words suggested. Nor was it, however, one of current ruin or despair.
If that were the case, much like with Fonkavun, he would likely choose to maintain a surface-level amicable relationship so long as there was no open hostility...
(Still, that dragon...)
Mortar could see through a dragon's weaknesses at a glance.
Certainly, a mid-tier dragon was dangerous. Even Myynoghra, with its incomparably powerful subordinates, would suffer severe repercussions if it underestimated one.
And yet, the one Sutherland had produced this time presented a significant problem.
Whether or not they were aware of this problem, at the very least, the king to whom Elder Mortar pledged his loyalty seemed rather uninterested in that point.
"Hey now, you're gonna get hurt!"
"Guffaws!!"
"Doesn't he seem a bit dumb?"
While the dwarves were getting worked up, it was Atou who first voiced this sense of unease.
The dragon before them just didn't quite match the image of a dragon that most in Myynoghra had in mind.
It would be indelicate to put it this way, but it seemed to lack a certain dignity or something of that sort.
"They've probably indulged it quite thoroughly to ensure obedience. Look at that dragon's belly. For a proud wyrm, it is far too obese," Elder Mortar pointed out.
Several Dark Elves, including Atou, fixed their stares intently upon the dragon's belly.
And what do you know? The sense of something... extra, something superfluous, which had been overshadowed moments ago by the impact of it being a mid-tier dragon, now became apparent.
In short, that dragon's stomach was far too full of fat.
"Grk! RROOOOAAAARR!"
Perhaps realizing it was being stared at, the dragon shifted its stance to hide its belly and opened its mouth wide in a threatening display.
But even this movement felt somewhat sluggish, producing a sense of incongruity that almost called for comedic sound effects.
It was the dwarf fleet captains who finally noticed this sense of unease. For them too, a dragon was an unknown entity. Until now, they had accepted it as just another creature, but observing its sluggish movements sparked doubts.
"Hey, is that thing okay? We haven't overfed it, have we?"
"Nah, I reckon it's fine with a gut like that. Looks healthy enough."
"I just felt sorry for it starving, so I let it eat its fill."
"What about booze?"
"Course I gave it a drink! Wouldn't leave it out of the fun!"
"Then it's fine!"
Words that promised nothing was fine at all drifted over from the dwarves. A pet's health was the owner's responsibility. Whether a dragon truly fell into the 'pet' category was debatable, but that gut was certainly the dwarves' doing.
"Well, whatever. It should be good for a mock battle. We can't kill it, obviously! You get that, right? No killing. Give them a chance to look good, but still put in a decent effort yourselves."
"Guuugh..."
"Do it right, and you get double rations!"
"Gyagagaga!"
Doban whispered to the dragon. Instantly, the creature's refined face split into a delighted grin. It was clearly already scheming to perform well and secure its extra food. Honestly, if he wanted to settle things smoothly, playing along might have been the easier path. But this was Takuto—the kind of man who couldn't settle for that. Even if it was a mock battle, he didn't want anything resembling a fix. He wanted to demonstrate Mynoghra's true power. And, let's be honest, there was also the intention that a meal-less dragon might be better off in the long run. Takuto glanced toward Mortar, then made a small, beckoning gesture with his fingers behind his back. Even the dwarves, who had been cheerfully discussing the dragon's eating habits up until now, turned their attention, sensing something was about to happen.
"We have just the right hound in our camp. It's a good opportunity. Let's have a friendly contest of strength between beasts," Mortar said, voicing the king's words and fixing the dwarf and dragon with a provocative look.
"Hmm? Where is it?" The dragon snarled, angry at being called a beast, while Doban wondered where this supposed beast of Mynoghra's could be, seeing none in sight.
Mortar tapped his staff lightly on the ground.
"Ongyaaaargh!!"
In that instant, what appeared was truly a beast.
No... to call it a beast was an understatement. It was a grotesque monstrosity, as if a dog, cat, insect, bird, and infant had all been mashed together, materializing before them as if seeping into existence.
It stood about three to four meters tall.
It seemed somewhat small compared to the dragon, but the sheer pressure and terror radiating from its presence would be unbearable for most creatures.
This monster, one of Mynoghra's proud military assets, considered for deployment as a main force, this "abomination," existed right there.
"What a short life..."
"Sorry. We couldn't do anything."
"If only we'd fed it more..."
"Mom's gonna kill us..."
The dwarves were in a wake-like mood.
The trembling dragon, however, moved with surprising swiftness for its kind, immediately rolling onto its back and whimpering pitifully in a pose of surrender.
The contest had already been decided. It ended before it began, and was closer to a forfeit than anything else...
It was no longer a matter of dwarf dignity or pride.
"Abuu..."
"The Imperfect" turned its confused gaze upon him.
It was reacting to the sight of the dragon—displaying its bloated, fat belly and surrendering like a timid pet dog—with helpless confusion.
Despite the fact that it had cheerfully released its [Mimicry] because it thought its turn had come, the anticlimax was profound.
Not only that, but King Takuto had effectively told it, "Sorry, your turn is over, but could you please hide again?" leaving it with nothing to do.
"Abuu..."
With a sorrowful cry, "The Imperfect" shrank down and then vanished with a soft whoosh.
Normally, this would have been the moment for the dwarves to tremble in fear at Mynoghra's power—the ability to utilize such stealth technology and command such a colossal beast to its fullest.
But the sight of the pathetic dragon still on its back in surrender, and the lingering, unforgettable echo of "The Imperfect's" sad cry in their minds, had carried away any such atmosphere without a trace.
=Message===
Alliance formed with the following nation:
[Maritime Nation Sutherland]
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