As expected. I knew it would come to this.

The man who had followed Lucas to the lair hid behind a tree, watching.

It was none other than Aman Tinoah, an academy professor—though in truth, he was the Blue Dragon “Amarok Teridier,” wandering in play.

His very first “game” had ended in catastrophe. He hadn’t known the first thing about blending in with what he saw as mere vermin—humans—so the whole affair had ended with him burning an entire village to the ground.

Because of that, his father Hassel had punished him with a ten–year ban on leaving the lair.

But now, at the start of a new game, Aman felt as though he might burst from sheer delight—thanks to that small human boy he had stumbled across.

That adorable thing…!

Every day he had doggedly shadowed Lucas, observing his every move, until finally, at last, he was certain he had uncovered the boy’s true nature. The thought of prying open that cheeky little brat’s mind filled him with giddy excitement.

His breathing quickened, his nostrils flaring wide and narrow in an unsightly rhythm, but what did that matter?

…The Lord’s lair?

But when Aman realized where Lucas had led him—after following him here even under invisibility—confusion slammed into his skull.

The current Lord was his father, Hassel Teridier. And yet, this place was unmistakably the lair of the previous Lord, who had died over a decade ago: Ranos Albrante.

What in the world is this?!

In an instant, Aman’s eyes shifted from curious gleam to stunned shock.

Seeing Lucas loitering at the foot of the cliff where the old Lord’s lair had been, his mind swirled with countless thoughts.

What is he? He’s definitely human… isn’t he?

He struggled to shake off the disbelief.

But as he watched the boy wander at the cliff’s base, Aman recalled their first meeting.

That small gem he had found in Sitata. He had thought it merely human, but now—could it be something else?

The gods sometimes descend for sport… could he be a god?

Yet that idea collapsed quickly. He knew well enough the boy was the hard–won child of Count Sivier and Lady Blaine of House Rodrigo.

There was no trace of adoption, either. Lucas’s face was the perfect blend of the two, his parents’ blood plain in his features.

Of course, anyone could polymorph if they wished—but nothing in the boy’s aura suggested anything other than human.

If he were a dragon, Aman would have known instantly. Their kind could recognize each other by the faintest trace of aura.

But when Lucas finally laid his hand against a small stone jutting from the ground, Aman’s curiosity spiked, and he had no choice but to reveal himself.

Whatever the boy was doing here, it might not concern Aman—but this was a dragon’s lair. If Lucas accidentally triggered the barrier, his human life would be forfeit.

And if that happened, Aman’s delicious mystery would die with him.

“What are you doing here, young Lucas?”

At his voice, Lucas sprang up, spinning to face him.

“…Aman?”

“And what should I call you now? Who exactly are you?”

Though he had no clear answer, Aman’s heart thundered with exhilaration, his curiosity nearly bursting his chest.

This is just too entertaining!

Standing in human form before his old lair, Lucas felt a strange, indescribable weight in his chest.

He ran his hand along the rock wall, inhaling and exhaling several times.

To human eyes, it was nothing but stone. But beyond that wall lay his old home—the dragon’s lair where he had lived as Ranos Albrante.

Hidden inside the mountain, it had been perfectly natural for him to come and go in his past life. But the barrier woven with dragon tongue could never be broken by a mere human.

Even if someone knew the spell formula, without the words of dragons, it would remain forever sealed.

So Lucas lingered at the cliff’s base.

…The vault!

At last, a fleeting thought struck him, and he moved toward a small rock outcrop.

Unlike the great barrier around the lair, the personal vault he had crafted in his previous life might not be sealed with dragon tongue.

He carefully pressed his hand to the stone and focused his will.

He had layered the vault with concealment magic so that unless one knew the exact location, it could never be found.

He had been willing to bequeath the lair when he perished, but not the vault. That tiny greed was proving useful now.

“What are you doing here, young Lucas?”

Startled by the voice behind him, he leapt up, searching for the source.

“…Aman?”

“And what should I call you now? Who exactly are you?”

His heart pounded wildly at the sudden words.

“I–I’m Lucas Rodrigo!”

Damn it. Of all people, it had to be this lunatic lizard catching him in the act!

And ‘I’m Lucas Rodrigo!’? He wanted to smash his own stupid mouth in right then and there.

Why is this insane lizard here of all places?!

It was more than surprise—it was outright panic. He couldn’t think of a single way out.

The sly smile on Aman’s face made Lucas want to smash him right between the eyes, but there was no hope of defeating a dragon—not even after death and rebirth as a human.

“…”

“Ha! Of course I know that. But since when did our little Lucas, barely at the level of a first circle, advance so far? To the point of casually casting teleportation—a spell requiring at least the third circle?”

The same lizard who spoke down to him so familiarly at the academy was now addressing him with perfect formality.

“S–Scroll!!”

Out of the thousands of excuses that flashed through his mind, the least ridiculous one tumbled out in his panic.

“Ha ha, you mean to say you came here using a scroll? To this barren cliffside?”

“Y–Yes! That’s right. I used a scroll.”

“Hmm… is that so…?”

Even in five thousand years of dragon life, he had never felt so flustered. Pride was meaningless; all that mattered was surviving this encounter.

If this meddlesome lizard discovered his true identity, he could forget about living a quiet life.

If word reached dragons who bore him ill will, there was no telling what horrors they might unleash.

That realization made Lucas nod frantically.

“I—I found it!”

“Oh? And where, exactly?”

“W–Well…”

As Lucas faltered, Aman tilted his head with feigned innocence and pressed further.

“Magic scrolls are exceedingly rare. So where could you possibly have picked one up… and how did you know it was—”

“Without even knowing where it would take you, you just—rip!—tore the scroll and ended up here, is that it?”

Aman even mimed tearing a scroll in half as he stepped closer to Lucas.

He wasn’t stupid. Scrolls and teleportation shared the same nature, so even if he tried tracing it back, it would be impossible to say with certainty whether Lucas had used a scroll or true teleportation.

But since he had been tailing Lucas from the start, Aman knew perfectly well it had been teleportation, not a scroll.

So what should I do? Just let it slide?

This was too much fun. Never before in all his games had he felt such delight. Not when he tricked soldiers on the battlefield with every manner of ruse, not even when he’d stolen his father’s artifact and twisted time itself.

The pleasure this little human gave him left him drowning in the sweetest dilemma of all.

Taking another step closer, Aman tapped his temple with his finger, as though deep in thought.

“Hmmm~”

That wretched little brat!!!

Lucas nearly blasted him on the spot, mana already pooling at his fingertips.

“Hmmm~”

Switching hands as he pretended to think, Aman finally lowered his hand, bent down, and met Lucas’s eyes directly.

“Young Lucas. Next time you find such a scroll, bring it to me. You mustn’t come alone to such dangerous places. Understood?”

Lucas swallowed hard.

…He’s letting it go?

Aman’s face broke into a wide, crinkled smile.

“Well then, shall we head back?”

As soon as Lucas brushed his hand against Aman’s, the scenery shifted. They were back at the academy.

Once they arrived, Aman even waggled his fingers in a mocking little wave, playing the fool.

It made Lucas’s skin crawl.

Only after imagining a thousand times how he would one day snap that dragon’s neck clean off did his fury cool even slightly.

That slippery snake of a lizard… Who knows what he’s thinking. I’d better tread carefully for now.

There was no way he had actually believed Lucas’s pathetic excuse.

So what should I do next… how…

He mulled over the problem as he walked the corridor, until a dull ache spread across his temple.

After more than ten years of watching, he knew well enough that House Rodrigo was slowly sliding into poverty.

When they had first been driven out to Sitata, they hadn’t been completely destitute. But refusing to dismiss their old retainers out of loyalty had been their first mistake.

Their wages, the upkeep of the dilapidated estate, food, clothing—all of it demanded money.

And so, the family’s coffers had steadily drained away.

Now, with Lucas himself enrolled at the academy, the burden would only be heavier.

That was why he had chosen not to return home even for the break. He wanted, in his own way, to ease their troubles.

What a pitiful household…

When he entered his dormitory, he noticed a letter left at his door.

At least once or twice a week, letters came from House Rodrigo. The words were always similar, but the sincerity of his parents’ feelings was plain every time.

He opened it. As always, the contents were simple.

—We don’t know if you’re doing well. Now that the weather is softening, snow no longer falls in Sitata. The roads will soon no longer be slippery. How is it there? Is spring finding its way into our son’s heart too?

We miss you. –Mother—

A faint smile tugged at Lucas’s lips as he folded the letter.

“Hmph… Spring, really…”

The words that escaped his mouth were cold, but somehow, reading it eased the storm of tangled thoughts in his head.

Fine. No matter what that wretched hatchling says, I’ll see this life through properly.

Leaving the letter on his desk, Lucas stepped out, heading for the library.

Better to keep busy until he could find a proper training ground.

When he entered, Brandy was there to greet him warmly, as though waiting for him.

“Oh, Lucas!”

There was something especially bright about his expression today. Lucas answered with a faint smile.

“Yes. You look as though you’ve had some good news.”

“Heh heh, no, no. What joy could an old man like me possibly have?”

“Is that so.”

Brandy explained he had found the book Lucas had asked for earlier and led him to it.

As always, Lucas sat across from him, poring over the text. Then his eye caught on a slip of paper tucked between the pages.

What’s that…?

His gaze sharpened instantly, and Brandy quickly snatched the paper up, sliding it back between the books.

“It’s nothing.”

But Lucas’s expression grew darker.

It was definitely a spell related to curses. Even if Brandy had devoted his life to magical study, he was still only seventy. Unlike Lucas, who had lived five thousand years, the old man might not realize what he was holding.

The runes written there contained more than enough power to lead a person straight to ruin.

And just what kind of damned scrap of paper is that supposed to be?!