Episode 24 – Survival IV
When the thick steak on the sizzling iron plate was placed before him, Nada cut into it with his knife as if to break through the heavy atmosphere hanging over them. His table manners were, frankly, nothing to praise. He held his fork in a reverse grip, and the way he used his knife was clumsy at best.
But every time the blade sank into the meat, juices spilled out and hissed as they evaporated on the hot plate, filling the air with an appetite-stirring sizzle. The savory aroma of garlic drifted up as well. Nada’s mouth was already overflowing with drool.
It had been a long time since he’d had a proper feast.
And this time, it was a feast after completing a dungeon expedition.
His body craved meat down to his very bones.
He brought it to his mouth and, despite the size of the piece, stuffed it whole. He chewed noisily.
It was tough. But the more he chewed, the more the juices burst from the steak, mixing together with the red wine sauce.
As expected, it was delicious.
Silently, moving only his mouth, Nada savored the familiar taste of this restaurant’s cooking for the first time in what felt like ages.
While everyone, Nada included, was absorbed in enjoying their steak, Corvo—who had only taken a small bite—opened his mouth.
“—So, Nada. Why did you try to cut the dragon’s heart at that moment?”
That moment.
It was probably when everyone except him was fighting the “insect.”
In the middle of everyone struggling desperately against that thing, Nada—without any memory of doing so himself—had somehow aimed straight for the dragon’s heart.
“…Who knows.”
“What do you mean, who knows?!! Huh!?”
As expected, the first to react strongly to Nada’s answer was Bramia.
He slammed the knife and fork he’d been holding onto the table, stood up, and leaned forward, glaring at Nada.
“I don’t remember it.”
Nada brought another piece of steak to his mouth and spoke while chewing.
Even with Bramia’s killing intent bearing down on him, Nada’s expression didn’t change at all.
“Don’t play dumb with us!!”
“Indeed. Then, Nada-dono, from what point do you recall events?”
Amarelo, seated next to Bramia, pressed a hand on his shoulder and eased him back into his seat as he asked.
“The first thing I remember… let me think. Probably the moment my crescent blade was already stabbed into what I assumed was the dragon’s heart.”
“…I see.”
“But even that’s hazy. I remember very little of what happened in that moment.”
“Then what do you remember?” Serena asked.
Only then was Nada finally able to look back on that version of himself.
He stopped chewing, thought slowly, and then said:
“…Warmth. As if I were being held by someone. And at the same time, the killing intent toward the dragon. I wasn’t ‘normal.’ If I had been ‘normal’—I wouldn’t have tried to cut the dragon’s heart in a situation like that.”
“…And what situation was that?” Serena pressed.
Nada spoke with a bitter, self-mocking tone.
“While drowning in blood, I put even more strength into the crescent blade already buried in the dragon’s heart. I didn’t try to protect my own life, I forgot about all of you, and I didn’t even think about the insect I’d been fighting just moments before. There was only one thing—pure killing intent toward the dragon, driving me to force that crescent blade deeper while drowning.”
Bramia listened to Nada’s words, yet still couldn’t accept them.
Not because he thought Nada was lying. Every word that came from Nada’s mouth was exhausted, worn out, and carried the weight of truth.
But even so, he simply couldn’t understand why an adventurer would try to kill the dragon under such conditions.
“That’s everything?” Serena asked again.
“Yeah. Once I drove the crescent blade in, I drowned, and the consciousness I’d barely been clinging to just… slipped away. After that, I’ve got no clue what happened to the dragon’s heart.”
No one contradicted Nada’s words.
But no one affirmed them either.
Even Corvo—who had spent years at Larva Academy as an adventurer and had met countless others of every kind—could not understand Nada’s actions… or rather, the instinct that had driven them.
It wasn’t rationality—he had fought the monster with nothing but a wild, animalistic consciousness.
When Bramia imagined what Nada must have looked like in that moment, he could only see a beast.
And not just any beast.
A beast starved for blood.
It was not the behavior of an adventurer—of a human being.
“…Then, where did you wake up next, Nada-senpai?”
The one who asked, clearly intrigued by Nada’s story, was Clarisse. Her voice bounced with interest, almost happily.
Naturally, the other six besides Nada already had the information about his return from the dungeon. If he had returned alone, on his own two feet, then Clarisse assumed he must have regained consciousness somewhere along the way.
A dungeon had complex pathways—it wasn’t the kind of place one could escape from in a half-conscious state.
“In a big… room—”
Nada then began explaining where he woke up and what the situation had been.
When the six heard that in front of him had been the dragon’s corpse, along with a gigantic Calvaon too large to carry back, their eyes lit up for an instant. But when Nada said that he hadn’t been carrying any such treasure when he left the dungeon and had left them behind, all six showed visible disappointment.
Serena, unable to give up on it, asked Nada for the location, but when he followed with, “…I can tell you, but the path has already collapsed from internal shifts,” the blow was too much, and she hung her head in dejection.
After that, Nada finished recounting how he made his way out of the dungeon.
“—That’s all.”
Even after Nada concluded, the six did not react.
The content of the story amounted to: there was valuable treasure, but it couldn’t be brought back. Nothing more. They hadn’t discovered a new route in the dungeon, nor any new ecological insight into the dragon.
“Nada, is there no falsehood in what you’ve said?”
Corvo asked, as if voicing the collective intent of the six, seeking confirmation.
A brief back-and-forth between Corvo and Nada followed.
“There’s none—”
“Then let me ask: is there anything else you’re hiding?”
“You already know I walked out of the dungeon half-naked, don’t you?”
“In the chamber where you encountered the dragon’s corpse, there truly was nothing else?”
“Who knows? Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t. I didn’t search every corner—and I didn’t have the strength to either—”
“I see. So you aren’t hiding that path either?”
“Yeah. If you want, I can even lead you there. Though I’m sure it’ll waste a few hours. Still, if it’s your request, Corvo, I don’t mind—”
“Well, that’s how it is. Do any of you have anything you want to ask Nada?”
Corvo looked to the other five, but no one answered.
Like Corvo, the five had already asked what they needed. From the fragments of Nada’s account, they could roughly piece together the events they hadn’t seen while being swallowed by that torrent of blood. Emotionally, some were far from satisfied with Nada, but in the first place, these seven were not a party.
They were merely adventurers who happened to encounter each other inside the dragon’s body and fought together temporarily.
Even if someone had betrayed the group midway, resenting it would be unreasonable.
And in fact, there were those who, even without acting on it, had expected betrayal when push came to shove—and some who openly stated as much.
It just so happened that this time, it had been Nada.
And even that hadn’t been deliberate—only the result of his own adventurous instincts and decision-making.
“If there are no further questions, then let’s move on. The next topic is—‘this.’”
Corvo pulled out two Calvaons from the bag he had placed nearby.
They were shaped so that the two pieces formed a single sphere—apparently broken in half.
But this wasn’t the Calvaon Corvo had bought as fuel.
“This came from the ‘insect’ we defeated. We haven’t exchanged it yet. Honestly, I gathered you all here less to talk about Nada’s actions, and more to decide what to do with this thing—”
It was the first time Nada had seen that Calvaon.
Of course—it made sense.
He hadn’t seen the moment the “insect” died.
There was no way he could have seen that beautiful, glossy black Calvaon.
“Each of us has belonged to a party at some point, and the way dungeon spoils like Calvaon are divided probably differs for each of us—”
Corvo’s point was sound.
A common use for Calvaon was simply equal distribution among all party members. Of course, depending on the contract, those with exceptionally useful skills or abilities might receive a slightly higher share.
Other parties would give out only a small portion to members and pool the rest to fund equipment. Some based distribution on performance during that dungeon run. The form varied widely.
“Of course, we weren’t a ‘party.’ Therefore, the one who should receive this Calvaon is Bramia, who discovered it first—”
Corvo glanced at Bramia.
Bramia gave him a small nod.
“But that wouldn’t be fair. Bramia feels the same. So I thought about how to divide it… and I’ve decided—these seven will split the total value of this Calvaon evenly.”
“Evenly… you say?”
Amarelo sounded surprised by Corvo’s unexpected proposal.
“Yeah. I considered splits based on performance or lost equipment, but none of them sat right. After all, we weren’t a proper contracted party. So I chose the option with the least room for lingering resentment. Well? Anyone got complaints?”
Corvo grinned boldly.
“In that case, I have one question,” Serena said. She, too, found Corvo’s idea acceptable—but there was something she had to ask.
“What is it?”
“Who will handle the upper-level report, the exchange of the Calvaon, the paperwork, and so on?”
“Oh, that. I’ll handle it for you. I’ve heard everyone’s account here, and I’m probably the best negotiator out of us anyway. Besides, I was your temporary leader, I’m also your senior, and right now I don’t belong to any party—I’m basically free. Something like that… I’ll do it unpaid. Any other questions?”
Corvo looked around at the six again.
No one raised an objection.
Not Bramia, who had found the Calvaon.
Not Serena, who had suffered the worst injuries.
Not Dan, who had probably worked the hardest with his Gift.
Not Amarelo, who had delivered the finishing blow to the “insect.”
Not Clarisse, who created the opening to kill it.
Not Nada, who killed the dragon.
Corvo, pleased that no disagreement surfaced, spoke again.
“Good. Then enjoy the feast tonight. Order whatever food and drinks you want. Don’t worry about the bill—I’m paying. Seems I have a bit of money to spare, so I can treat you to this much—”
And the moment Corvo said that, the heavy atmosphere surrounding the seven dissolved, and the real celebration began.
They each ordered food and drinks as they pleased, freely switching seats and chatting.
Even if tensions had risen a little earlier, they had all fought for their lives together inside the dragon’s body—something far more dangerous than their usual adventures. Bonds that normally wouldn’t have formed had at least grown a little.
At first, they talked about their journey inside the dragon, but as time passed, the conversation shifted to each person’s party, then to their current adventures.
Nada drank a lot, but he wasn’t weak enough to get drunk from it, so he answered questions calmly. Many wanted to hear about his exploits during his Aghiya days or the recent battle with a gargoyle—his track record was impressive. Of course, Corvo and Bramia were among those asking.
After several hours, the feast of the seven came to an end.
Though temporary, they had fought as a party unlike the ones they usually belonged to, and each carried a special feeling from the experience. When the seven stood together outside the tavern, they exchanged farewells and headed off in different directions.
Among them were those whose paths would likely never cross again—but they were adventurers.
They had experienced countless such meetings and partings.
And so, without regret, each of them could treasure this adventure—completed without losing a single person—as a good memory.
—However, just a few dozen seconds later, two shadows crossed paths again.
In the nearby plaza.
“—Hey, did I keep you waiting?”
One of them was Corvo.
Perhaps from all the drinking, his cheeks were faintly flushed.
“No, not at all, Corvo-senpai—”
The other was—Clarisse.
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