- Prologue
'Be strong.''
That was her mother's last will and testament.
Passed on to her when she was left alone.
She wasn't happy about being given such a gift, and she had no idea of how to become stronger.
That was three years ago. Three years had passed, and now she was running through the forest.
It took perseverance to run through the forest, and it required good sense and skill.
If you didn't have either of those things, you'd have no choice but to keep running and get all torn up. She gasped, almost as if something had hold of her throat. She was only supposed to go in search of mushrooms in the forest, so she'd worn a green open-collared shirt and shorts that made her look rather defenseless. This had turned out to be a mistake. Her shins were already covered in blood, scratched up from the undergrowth, and several tree branches had pierced her shoes, some of them breaking through the skin of her feet. The midsummer forest was full of grass and stale air, and every breath she took made her gag. The juices from the crushed grass gushed up and glistened in the summer sunlight that shone through the trees.
She was a girl who hadn't reached high school yet, as far as you could tell, and although she wasn't accustomed to the forest itself, she felt a unique draw to the wilderness from growing up in a remote farming village. Although her arms and legs were still a rather childish length, she had a simple look, built more like a farm horse than a race horse. Of course, whether someone disliked that or not probably came down to taste. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, now damp with sweat. She kept running, her brown eyes fixed straight ahead. Then at that moment — her leg got tangled up. However—
(I can't stop—)
It wasn't that she didn't want to stop. Her severe heart palpitations had been conveying that her body was at its limit for a while now. Her eyelids were swollen and she felt drowsy. If possible, she'd fall right where she was.
(I can't stop—)
She repeated to herself. She didn't have to look back, she could still hear the footsteps that had been chasing her for awhile. They were the unusually tall boys who always huddled together at the corner of the village — and now they were chasing after her. When she walked out of the village, they were behind her before she knew it. When she started to run, they ran after her—
She didn't know what would happen if they caught up with her, but she was instinctively aware of the dangers of a situation in which three men chased after a girl. They never even said 'wait' or 'stop.' Yet, they didn't give up the chase, either.
Somewhere in the corner of her mind, a calmer part of her knew perfectly well — that even if she kept running, they would eventually catch up to her. If they caught up, she'd have to be strong, or she'd be dead.
I have to run — I know that — But —
(No more—)
She screamed in her mind.
Her legs thought that she'd keep running, but suddenly her body hit the ground. She realized that she'd fallen, just as her face was painfully struck by a tree root. She rolled, trying to get up, the forest spinning around her.
In the moment that she'd fallen, she thought she'd caught a glimpse of the man chasing her, and wondered now what direction he was in. A fierce feeling of disgust ran through her body, but now that she'd stopped, her fatigued muscles would no longer move. Her lungs trembled. She was in so much pain.
(You have to get up—)
She muttered fearfully in the depths of her throat, she managed to get her elbows on the ground — but she still couldn't do it.
(You have to run—)
Dragging her body, she tried to move — but she couldn't even do that—
At that moment, she was grabbed by the ankle.
"............!"
She turned around and saw one of the boys, right there. She instinctively slashed the boy's face with the nails of her right hand. The fingertips gouged his acne covered skin with unusual force. However, the pain also ran through her fingertips. Her fingernails had broken.
The boy stretched his arm out with little care. He grabbed the collar on the back of her shirt, almost like riding a horse. She could hear the sound of the shirt's buttons popping off.
"Mother...!"
She bit the boy's arm, letting out a scream that later seemed almost monotonous. With a high pitched yelp, he withdrew the arm. She tried to escape, but in the end, she couldn't get out from under her opponent's weight.
Her vision blurred with tears — She looked up and saw that the other two boys had caught up with them. They were looking down at her, gasping for breath. She could see the boy straddling her like a horse, throwing a tantrum from the pain as he rose his fist to hit her—
'Be Strong.'
An empty sermon that she could now only hear in the distance. The voice of her dead mother.
'Because you're going to have to live on your own now—'
(I can't!)
She screamed back in fear. The raised fist loomed in the middle of her vision. There was nothing she could do to escape from it—
Even so, she lifted her head to try to avoid it — and then her vision went black.
She felt no pain. She just closed her eyes to the momentary collision, and her consciousness blinked out for the last time as the back of her raised head struck the ground. Her head tingled helplessly, numb. She didn't hear the screams of the boys. As her cracked skull bled uncontrollably, she stopped breathing, and as she did, her body convulsed.
She didn't think that much time had passed when she awoke.
"..........?"
A dull ache surged through her head. She got up and touched her hair — Her head, face, and clothes were soaked in blood. The boys were gone. She was lying alone in the forest.
Crack—
She heard the sound of the grass crunching behind her. Startled, she turned around. There — as if dividing the forest in two, a huge shadow loomed over her.
In that moment, the girl thought that it was a god.
The black fur shined glossy and beautiful. The smooth curves of its silhouette struck the girl as feminine.
It was, in fact, a beast. A huge wolf with jet-black fur that must've been three or four meters high at its head — a figure so majestic that it would fascinate anyone who looked upon it, no matter who they were. The twin green eyes solemnly locked everything in their gaze.
The girl knew the name of the beast.
"Deep Dragon!"
In the last unexplored region of the continent — that is, this forest — one of the dragon races lived in the vast sea of trees, which occupied 20% of the continent of Kiesalhima...
| What is thine name? |
The question suddenly echoed in her head. As she looked up, she saw the dragon staring at her. Without knowing why, she answered immediately.
"F—Fiena. From Solician — Village..."
The dragon continued without regard.
| Thou art dead. |
"Huh......?"
Fiena asked. However, the dragon continued without concern.
| But, I resurrected thee— |
"You ... You helped me?"
Fiena cried, holding down her blood-soaked collar with her hand.
|
We art a race of warriors... We exist to protect this continent. For that purpose, I hath saved thee — and I shalt also kill thee |
"Uh... I, I thank you, then—"
She thought about giving her thanks more enthusiastically, yet she felt like she almost didn't want to, so she swallowed the words. The dragon continued slowly.
|
I cannot explain, thine simple mind — it would not understand... Thou must only know... there is a price to be paid for saving lives. |
"............"
|
I need thee. It is now thine duty to be my eyes and my ears. I cannot give thee much time, so understand quickly... |
Fiena didn't understand. But the dragon said nothing more, and quickly spun its huge bulk around.
The dragon slowly walked away, boasting its elegant appearance. As it pushed its way through the sunlit foliage, rather than the warrior dragon of legend she felt that it looked more like a grim reaper, marching without the sound of a single footstep. Even as the jet-black wolf disappeared from sight, Fiena kept her gaze transfixed on the direction that it had left.
Table of Contents
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| (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) |
Priestess of the Forest Deep Dragon Orphen's Imprisonment Fiena's Request MacDougall's Secret Rapid Slaughter |