Chapter 41

Gennadi often imagined a future where he lived together with Aethlyn.

He would spend every bit of money he had saved to build a cozy cabin somewhere secluded and peaceful, where no one would ever disturb them. There, he would live with Aethlyn—hunting, fishing, watching her read beneath the trees like she used to. And when the sun began to set…

Unsurprisingly, his fantasies always ended the same way: with sex.

Sex with Aethlyn.

One vulgar, obscene thought after another—desires too indecent to dwell on beneath the bright sun—would spiral endlessly through his mind.

He imagined holding Aethlyn, supporting himself on his elbows over her, or taking her from behind. He imagined bringing her to climax again and again. Then, after leaving her completely exhausted, he imagined cradling her in his arms and whispering words of love into her ear. Whether they were gazing out at the falling snow or embracing each other by a stream, that was how he wanted to love her.

By the time those fantasies finally ran their course, his rough hand had already finished knotting¹ and ejaculation, and the burning heat of his rut had subsided enough to become bearable.

The fuel for those fantasies was a photograph Gennadi had clipped from a newspaper years ago.

Several years earlier, he had found a newspaper at a newsstand near his post and bought it almost as if he were possessed. The front page featured a special article on that year’s graduates of the Magic Academy.

The article was titled “The Mages of Tomorrow.”

The very first thing Gennadi noticed was the photograph tucked away in one corner.

Aethlyn.

Even in black and white, her bright eyes, beautiful hair, and the gentle curve of her lips shone unmistakably.

There was no room for doubt.

It was Aethlyn.

As if confirming his certainty, a small caption beneath the photograph read:

Aethlyn Wintercrown (22), selected as the top scholarship student of the 287th Academy class, said in an interview with our paper, “I want to become a mage who dedicates herself to society without bringing shame to my grandfather or my father.”

At first, he couldn’t believe it.

He couldn’t believe he was really looking at Aethlyn.

But no matter how many times he looked, it was her.

Those unwavering eyes.

That elegant neck.

The beautifully upturned corners of her eyes.

He had stared at the photograph for a long time, thinking to himself that Aethlyn was still living through the same passage of time as he was.

Even if they now lived in completely different worlds.

“…”

Returning to reality, Gennadi found himself thinking…

Wasn’t all of this his fault in the end?

The Aethlyn born from his own imagination looked at him with a clear, tranquil expression and spoke.

“So you finally got what you wanted. Now I’m here with you, stuck in the mud.”

When Gennadi remained silent, the phantom asked again.

“Are you satisfied?”

A crooked smile spread across Gennadi’s lips.

He bared his fangs as he laughed.

Satisfied?

It was an emotion he had never once felt in his entire life.

But at least…

“…It’s not the worst.”

Yeah.

In the end, what Gennadi had felt was never love.

It had been something far more selfish and pathetic.

Obsession.

Lust.

The moment he fully admitted that to himself, he felt strangely relieved.

The thoughts that had consumed him scattered in an instant, and the phantom that resembled Aethlyn disappeared.

Gennadi bent farther over her, shielding Aethlyn from the falling snow.

If this really was the end…

…then at least he didn’t want her to be cold.

“{Pitiful.}”

A hoarse voice whispered to him as he hunched over.

“{Pitiful… truly pitiful. Poor little beast, wandering through the snow.}”

Gennadi ignored the strange voice beside him.

Probably just an auditory hallucination before death.

But the voice refused to stop.

“{Well now! Look at this brat! You barge into someone else’s territory without so much as a word, and now you’re going to ignore me too?}”

The oddly out-of-place accusation finally made Gennadi lift his gaze.

And the moment he did…

He realized that an enormous serpent was coiled only a few steps in front of him.

“…Hah.”

Gennadi clicked his tongue.

The serpent immediately slammed its long, smooth tail against the ground.

Every impact made the earth around them seem to tremble.

“{And now you’re clicking your tongue at me? Such disrespect!}”

“A magical beast?”

“{Good grief. Now you’re insulting me too? You mammalian brute…}”

The serpent trembled as though genuinely dumbfounded.

Despite its expressionless face, its irritation was unmistakable.

Rather than being surprised—he no longer had the strength for that—Gennadi calmly assessed the situation.

‘*Not a magical beast… though I have no idea how it’s speaking to me.*’

Besides, if it were a serpent-type magical beast, it should already have gone into hibernation by now.

Keeping his face expressionless, Gennadi studied his opponent.

Whatever the creature was…

If it threatened Aethlyn…

He would kill it.

Not that he expected killing it would save either himself or Aethlyn.

The three of them would all die here.

Gennadi simply refused to let anyone steal Aethlyn’s final moments.

After grumbling to itself for quite some time, the serpent finally sighed in lament.

“{How disgraceful. The werewolves have truly forgotten all proper conduct. If the Dragon knew, they would be heartbroken.}”

“The Dragon? Don’t tell me… the Golden Dragon?”

“{Exactly! The great Dragon your people serve! Just because the Dragon stepped away for a little while doesn’t mean you should behave with such appalling manners!}”

The serpent continued rambling, complaining without end.

“{Instead of showing proper respect and bowing before me, the Marquis of the Frontier, you suddenly called me a magical beast. Honestly! I know your kind has short lifespans, but still… your standards are low. Incredibly low.}”

Gennadi stared blankly as the serpent grumbled to itself.

Just like the Red Knight, this thing certainly talked a lot.

He was reminded of the seven monsters said to have served the Golden Dragon.

One of them…

Apophis.

Hadn’t it been described as taking the form of a giant serpent?

‘…I was under the impression they’d all been killed by mages.’

The serpent in particular was famous for having been cut into six pieces by the Black Knight of the Barbaros Imperial Army.

Still, this wasn’t the time to question whether old legends were true.

‘At least… it doesn’t seem like it’s going to attack.’

For the moment, Gennadi felt relieved that this creature—whether it was a magical beast or some other kind of monster—didn’t appear hostile toward him.

A faint spark of hope began to rekindle.

He spoke in a hoarse voice.

“I’m sorry. I acted rudely out of ignorance.”

Seeing him adopt a respectful attitude, the serpent’s anger gradually subsided.

It gave an awkward little cough before tightening its coils.

“{Well… fine. Just mind your manners from now on. Consider yourself lucky I’m overlooking it because you’re in such a miserable state.}”

“Thank you.”

“{…}”

“…”

Silence settled between them.

Apophis muttered under its breath.

“{Hmph. You’re not even going to ask me for help?}”

At that moment, a glimmer returned to Gennadi’s eyes.

Without missing the opportunity, he seized it.

“If I ask… will you help us?”

“{Hah! You insolent mutt!}”

Before the serpent could launch into another lengthy complaint, Gennadi spoke first.

“Thank you for helping us.”

“{Who said I was going to help you?!}”

“Please help us.”

“{You rude, furry beast.}”

While hurling every crude insult it could think of at werewolves and mammals in general, the serpent slithered closer to the two of them.

“{Though… now that I think about it, you wolves have always been terrible with words. The Dragon always saw that as ‘pure-hearted’ and looked upon it favorably…}”

Apophis let out a long sigh.

“{Then again… compared to those two-faced humans, you’re far better. Much better.}”

As the great serpent rolled its vertically slit pupils back and forth, mumbling about memories of the distant past, Gennadi’s strength rapidly faded away.

Perhaps it was because relief had finally come after finding a way to save Aethlyn.

Or perhaps he had simply been forcing himself onward by clinging to the thought of his mate.

Either way, his consciousness sank uncontrollably, as though it were being swallowed by a bottomless abyss.

The strength gradually left his wide-open eyes.

His vision darkened.

Somewhere in his fading consciousness, he thought he heard the serpent mutter,

“{Wait… did you bring this Esta woman here as food? …No, good grief. You’ve marked her as your mate. And there, of all places. What kind of lunatic werewolf have I run into…?}”

Yeah.

She’s my mate.

So please…

Save her.

Please.

And with that, he lost consciousness.

Twelve years earlier.

“Hmm… I have no idea what to call you.”

Aethlyn wrote one name after another in the dirt with a stick, only to erase them moments later.

She had already lost count of how many she’d gone through.

“Your fur’s dark, so… Dark… Hmm, that doesn’t sound right. Fenrir’s too wolf-like.”

She drew lines through both “Dark” and “Fenrir.”

The next name she wrote was “Peritas.”

It was the name of the dog once owned by a great mage-general who had distinguished himself during the ancient war against the Kingdom of Willem.

“That’s way too old-fashioned.”

No one had objected, yet Aethlyn shook her head almost immediately.

A line was soon drawn through “Peritas” as well.

Yawn.

While Aethlyn continued pondering names, the dog beside her stretched its jaws wide in a huge yawn.

Its fearsome white fangs glittered in the morning sunlight, a sharp contrast to its gentle temperament.

“Maybe a normal human name would work.”

A tiny crease of concentration formed between Aethlyn’s neat brows.

“James?”

“Whine.”

The sound carried unmistakable dissatisfaction.

Aethlyn turned toward the dog.

“What? You didn’t seem to mind before. Don’t you like the name James?”

“Whiiine.”

Its tail drooped.

Its ears drooped.

Anyone could tell it hated the suggestion.

‘*It’s not like it actually understands what I’m saying…*’

But for some reason, Aethlyn suddenly felt like teasing it.

A mischievous smile spread across her face.