Like A Ruler

When I woke up, I was alone in the lodging. Only the pillow Sia had slept on was left. Lying alone in that bed, I felt as though everything that had happened yesterday had been a dream.

From now on I would have to wait out a whole week to see Sia again. Yesterday I’d even thought, for a moment, that a week wasn’t so bad, that I could hold out through one on phone calls alone. But now that I was the one actually doing the waiting, I couldn’t think that way at all. Sure, we could keep in touch, but how could that ever compare to seeing her in person?

I gave my face a quick wash and came out into the living room. Only last night it had been a little cluttered; now it was neatly tidied, and on the dining table sat a sandwich, a carton of milk, and a letter.

I picked up the letter first.

“Hi, Oppa. I’m writing this at Grandpa’s lair right now. I wanted to write it beside the bed where you’re sleeping, but if I did, there’s no telling what might happen to you. It’s a pretty funny situation, isn’t it?”

I gave a bitter smile.

“How lovely it would have been to wrap up this happy day and fall asleep beside you. That’s what I kept thinking. I thought that if I could, I’d get to have good dreams.”

For no good reason, I felt guilty. Guilty that Sia wasn’t beside me, and that I was the only one having good dreams. Had she had happy dreams too, sleeping alone?

“What if I’d had a good dream, woken up clear-headed, and watched the morning sun come through the window with you? That’s what I kept thinking.”

“Oh, right. I should have written this part first. You see the sandwich in front of you? I made it myself. Don’t skip breakfast — I really want you to eat it.”

I’d never bothered with breakfast, and Sia had always nagged me about it, so I picked up the sandwich and took a bite the moment I read that line. It tasted exactly like the ones she used to make for me.

“Call me once you’ve read all of this, Oppa. I love you.”

Time flew, and before I knew it the hour I’d arranged with Sia’s grandfather had come. I stayed on the phone with Sia right up until the appointed time, then used the ring he’d given me to move to the lair in Taebaek.

Whoa.

It wasn’t my first visit, but I still couldn’t get used to it. The sheer scale of the lair, the atmosphere of the place… Without much exaggeration, it was like stepping onto another planet.

Sia’s grandfather welcomed me warmly the moment I arrived.

“Come on in. Nothing out of the ordinary lately?”
“No. Have you been well too, sir?”
“Thanks to you, very well.”

Trading light greetings, he led me to the reception room, which, oddly enough, had the feel of a hanok¹. As I looked around, fascinated, Rokan remarked, sounding rather pleased with himself.

“I had occasion to visit a hanok a while back, and I liked how serene it felt, so I had this place done up the same way.”
“It’s more hanok than most real hanok. You have remarkable taste, sir.”

With Sia gone, things might well have turned awkward, but thanks to the small talk it was less awkward than I’d expected.

“Thank you. And, Minjun.”
“Yes?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you didn’t call me ‘sir’. I’d like you to use my name.”
“You mean… Lord Rokan?”

Honestly, it felt awkward to me. Being a dragon, he might think nothing of a thing like this, but… calling the grandfather of the woman I was going to marry by his bare name? As a Korean through and through, I couldn’t help balking.

“That’s right. It’s more comfortable for me. Being addressed as a grandfather by anyone other than Shasha still feels strange.”
“Yes, Lord Rokan.”

Still, if that was what made him comfortable, I’d have to go along with it.

“Then let’s get to the main business.”
“Yes.”

With even the question of what to call him settled, we got down to business.

“Shasha told me. You drew out the power of a Dragon Bone Sword, did you?”

When I’d talked with Sia on the phone last night, she’d mentioned going to her grandfather’s lair, so she must have told him there.

“Yes.”
“Take your sword out.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Rokan pulled a wooden sword out of subspace.

“I need to see it for myself.”

Which meant I’d be crossing swords with Rokan.

But.

Is this really all right…?

To be honest, it felt a little strange. Crossing blades with Rokan was nothing odd in itself, but the sword I had to draw was a Dragon Bone Sword, and Rokan was a dragon. In his position, I’d have found it extremely uncomfortable. Then again, he was the one who’d told me to draw it…

“But… are you all right with this?”
“All right with what? Don’t tell me you’re about to say something insolent.”
“No. As you know, Lord Rokan, what this sword is made of…”
“Ah, that. If that’s all it is, never mind. You humans might see it that way, but to us it’s nothing.”

I’d be swinging a sword made from the bones of his own kind, of all things, and it didn’t stir him in the slightest.

“Every so often one of our clan turns up with a hobby of shaving down his own bones to make a sword, so there’s no need to mind it.”
“…”

Shaving down his own bones to make a sword, he’d said. I couldn’t wrap my head around that, but it wasn’t what mattered right now.

“So. Draw your sword, and quickly.”

In the end I did as he said, pulling the Dragon Bone Sword out of subspace and gripping it. The instant I took hold of it, Rokan used magic, and the scenery changed at once. We stood in a wide field somewhere I didn’t recognize.

“Swing that sword the way you showed Shasha. I’ll do nothing but block.”

Rokan beckoned me in, telling me to hurry up and start.

“Nothing but block?”
“This isn’t a spar — why would I attack? Enough talk, just swing.”

That scraped at my pride for a moment, but my opponent was a dragon, and a former Dragon Lord on top of that. Given the difference in weight class, this was surely only right.

“Then, here I come.”

I carefully steadied my breath, gripped the sword, and launched myself forward with all my strength.

For this moment at least, forget that he’s Sia’s grandfather, forget that I’m being tested.
Just swing the sword the way I did at the training ground.

Drilling that into myself, I swung with everything I had the instant the distance closed.

Before meeting Minjun, Rokan had talked with his granddaughter for a long time.

Both of them had once believed they would never have the chance to meet, so a great deal had piled up to talk about, and they talked warmly for hours. Along the way her past life came up naturally, and so did Minjun.

A human who drew out the power of a Dragon Bone Sword.
He didn’t simply draw it out. I’m not sure this is the right way to put it, but—
It was as though it wasn’t a human but a dragon, swinging its own foreleg.

When his granddaughter put it that way, Rokan felt a fresh jolt of shock. He too had seen humans draw out a Dragon Bone Sword’s power and achieve great things with it, but never once one who gave off that kind of impression. He had wondered whether she was exaggerating as Minjun’s lover, but he knew she wasn’t that sort of person, or rather, that sort of dragon.

If our Shasha is right about this.
There’s no way I can keep my expectations down.

Part of it was protecting his granddaughter’s love, but in one corner of his heart, quite apart from that, Rokan also wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. In that frame of mind, he knocked Minjun’s sword aside.

…Not so sure about this.

For a start, he felt he understood what his granddaughter had meant. The boy certainly used a sword differently from other Dragon Bone Sword users. But that was all. Beyond that, nothing particularly special showed itself.

Having lightly knocked the blade away, he waited for Minjun’s sword to come again. The second and third strikes followed at once, one rising from below, the next cutting down toward the lower left. He could feel the boy trying to vary his line of attack, perhaps having judged the first exchange short on impact.

“It still isn’t coming through to me.”

Even that fell short of his expectations. Granted, they had traded only three exchanges, but he had expected bolder, sharper attacks, and he couldn’t shake the sense that something was lacking.

“With potential like that, it makes no sense that this is all you can show me.”

At those words, Minjun’s brow twitched for the briefest instant.

“I’ll keep going until you see what you want to see.”
“Of course you will.”

Minjun swung again, and once again Rokan’s blade blocked his lightly, without fail. That was fine; it had never been a spar to begin with. Ten blows passed that way, then twenty, and still Rokan’s expression didn’t change.

“With no more than this, you will never handle our clan’s power in full.”
“…”
“At this level you might make a name for yourself as a famous Hunter one day. You’d be able to use our clan’s power, if only a part of it. You’d pick up a decent share of wealth and fame too. But that isn’t your goal, is it?”

Rokan judged that a turning point was about due. Either he gave the boy a strong shock, or he found the reason his potential wasn’t coming into full bloom.

Minjun, meanwhile, was frowning and dragging in ragged breaths.

So damn galling.

His anger was aimed not at Rokan but at himself. If he never managed to handle a dragon’s power in full, the restrictions on seeing Sia would never go away, and that could not be allowed. He had to overturn Rokan’s assessment of him. Overturn it, and force Rokan to admit that at this rate there was at least some hope.

“That can’t… happen.”
“Indeed. It can’t. I’ve no wish to see our granddaughter grieving either.”
“What do I have to do to satisfy you, sir?”
“Come at me with everything you have.”
“…Sorry?”

He’d expected something grand, but Rokan’s answer was unexpectedly simple.

“As you are now, you’re swinging that sword timidly. There’s no question of it.”
“…! That isn’t true! I’m giving it my—”
“It isn’t a question of effort. You’re too aware that you’re facing a dragon, Shasha’s grandfather.”

He tried to deny it, but Rokan had spoken the truth. However often Minjun told himself to swing boldly, it was never going to happen. This was a different thing entirely from facing lizardmen or the Wood Golems at the training ground, and unnoticed, caution and tension clung to his blade.

“Dominate.”

At that one word, a shiver ran through Minjun’s whole body.

“A dragon is a being born with domination in its blood. If you do not dominate, there is no point.”

Domination.

Minjun had sensed it instinctively too. A dragon was one who reigned, so he had to swing the sword with the mind of one who dominates. But what about now? He had been thinking of giving it his best, yet he had not swung with any thought of domination.

How could he dare, before an ancient dragon? How could he dare, before Sia’s grandfather?

“Try thinking of dominating me — and beyond that, of dominating every dragon there is.”

No matter who the opponent was, he had to think of dominating them. No, more than that: he had to draw out the dragon’s power believing that dominating them was only natural. That was exactly the point Rokan was driving at.

“I’ll do that.”

The corner of Minjun’s mouth lifted. For this moment at least, he would swing the blade like some wild brute of a ruler. He would cast off the thought that he was still a nothing D-Rank Hunter and go in believing that even an ancient dragon, one who could toy with mere Rankers, lay dominated under his heel.

Minjun took hold of the sword again. He moved fast but didn’t rush, pouring a dogged obsession with domination into the blade while keeping the swing composed.

“Hraaaaaah—!”

With a roar close to a scream, Minjun drove home the strike he had staked everything on. The result was the same this time too. The attack was blocked, and the wooden sword showed no change.

But Minjun swung one more time.

And there was a crack in Rokan’s wooden sword. Small, but there.

The moment he saw that crack, Rokan’s eyes…

“Hm. So you’re not a complete fool after all.”

…at last began to color with satisfaction.