95

Clank

Hamel turned the key in his hand.

Then the door leading down to the basement beneath the study opened.

It was a door they had never forced open before because of the risk of an explosion.

The key he had taken from David fit perfectly into the keyhole.

“Will it be all right?”

Daniel looked at Hamel with a worried expression.

The others said nothing; their faces betrayed unease.

There was Ono, arms folded, and Lena, gazing intently at Hamel.

And even Antonio, hands clasped in prayer.

At Hamel’s single request for help, they would descend into the basement without hesitation.

But.

“I’ll be fine. This is my family’s matter.”

Hamel nodded and brushed off their concerns.

The path down into the dark basement flickered with torchlight.

It felt as if he were entering the maw of a living beast.

Hamel had long pondered the nature of this secret basement beneath the study.

What on earth was here that made David try to open it, and his father determined to guard it?

The answer lay before him now.

‘Whatever it is, it’s a matter of our family.’

Whatever it was, he had no intention of keeping it from his companions.

He simply did not want to subject them to possible danger because of his family’s affairs.

“…It can’t be helped. Be careful.”

“Yes.”

Hamel silently nodded at Daniel’s anxious voice.

The others did not hold him back; they only urged him to be careful.

“…”

Hamel felt a ticklish warmth at their worried send-off.

This feeling, one he had felt often lately, always lent him strength.

Thanks to it, Hamel could steel himself once more.

He resolved to return, no matter what lay ahead.

Thud

As he stepped forward, his footsteps echoed down the corridor.

It felt like walking through a cave.

Where would this path lead him?

Hamel slowly drew his sword and held a lantern in his other hand.

Whatever came, he didn’t mind.

Hamel was not afraid.

He trusted how much he had grown stronger.

He trusted the companions who would guard the mansion.

There was not an ounce of hesitation in his stride.

Thud thud

The basement descended deep, very deep.

How far down that slanted path had he gone?

Another door blocked his way.

This time it was a stone door without a handle.

After a brief pause, Hamel saw a familiar groove carved into its center.

The emblem of the family: the fawn-lily motif.

“Signet ring…”

Hamel took the ring off his hand and fitted it into the groove.

The ring clicked perfectly into place.

Rumble

At once the stone door slid aside and a corridor revealed itself.

But unlike before, the corridor was not long.

This was, in the first place…

‘Hallway?’

It did not take long for him to realize the source of the déjà vu.

This corridor resembled the hallways of the Haidern mansion.

A marble floor and oak-paneled walls.

Even the white wallpaper and decorations.

It was slightly different now, but the scenery felt familiar to Hamel.

‘Yes, this is…’

It resembled the mansion of his childhood even more.

Hamel stepped cautiously onto that hallway.

At the end of the corridor.

A door came into view.

A faint light leaked from the closed door, and through the crack came a sound like breathing.

The slither of scales like a snake and multicolored, rasping breaths.

Hamel was seized by a strange sensation.

The déjà vu swelled beyond control.

It felt like drifting through a dream.

Hamel stumbled forward along the corridor in a daze.

A vision of a child running ahead of him seemed almost within reach.

A child with silver hair and blue eyes.

Holding a storybook in his hands.

It was a scene he had seen countless times.

On nights of nightmares, Hamel would invariably shout words the running child could not hear.

Faster.

Hurry.

Go and save your mother from the monster.

“…”

He knew.

Even if he did, the child could not save his mother from the monster.

He could not run any faster.

Fragments of a past gone by and regrets that could not be reclaimed.

Because that child was himself.

The vision vanished.

Hamel caught up with the child and, as on that day, simply turned the doorknob and pushed.

Creak

The wooden door swung open without resistance.

And inside the room.

“…”

‘It’ was there.

Rustle

White scales rippled like waves.

Dozens of tendrils hung like hair, and the single remaining wing dangled as nothing but bone and veins.

A serpentine lower body was coiled atop the bed.

“Ah.”

Hamel let out a short breath.

Was this also an extension of the dream?

The day seven years ago was being replayed before his eyes.

The hallway, identical to the mansion’s, led to his mother’s room, perfectly matching his memories.

Every ornament, every book.

Hamel wondered if he had lost his mind.

He had believed he had walked into the mansion’s basement.

Had he in fact returned to the past?

But Hamel, standing like a stone, instinctively gathered information.

There were clearly differences from the past he remembered.

Mildewed air.

Damp drafts and a cool temperature.

This was definitely the mansion’s basement.

And…

Above all, unlike his memory, his mother’s bloodstained clothes were gone.

That was the biggest difference from the past.

Which meant.

Gnash

Hamel unconsciously clenched his jaw and ground his teeth.

Rustle

Perhaps having noticed him, the creature turned its torso, shook its tendrils, and cocked its head.

How long had he been searching.

For years he had hunted every demon he could find for the slightest trace.

Especially any monster related to snakes or tentacles.

He had finally found it.

He did not know why the monster would hide in such a basement.

There was no reason for Hamel to hesitate.

Hamel threw the lantern to the floor and gripped his sword with both hands.

‘Finally, revenge for my dead mother…’

It was then.

Thump

A strange sensation wrapped around Hamel’s body.

A paradoxical feeling, both hot and cold.

It was an energy felt in his heart.

Hamel already knew too well what that energy was.

Dragon.

His heart, already half turned into a Dragonheart, was responding.

It was responding to another new byproduct of a dragon.

There was only one meaning to that.

“…”

That the creature before him was also part dragon.

‘Half-dragon… no, perhaps closer to a dragonian like me.’

Judging by its size, that seemed likely.

It was only slightly larger than a person.

Hamel felt something amiss.

How on that day had the creature managed to enter the bedroom without a sound?

Why was it trapped in this mansion’s basement?

And why…

Did it feel familiar because of something to do with the creature?

The creature continued to stare at Hamel, shaking its tendrils listlessly.

It gave off no sense of hostility, not even danger.

For a moment, however, it shifted, turned its body, and focused intently on something.

“…Ha.”

With his fervor deflated, Hamel slowly lowered his sword and walked into the room.

Killing the creature did not look particularly difficult.

So there was no need to rush.

Hamel rationalized the inexplicable discomfort and looked around the room.

What caught his eye was a single book.

A book placed on his mother’s dressing table.

Being something he had no memory of, it stood out easily.

Hamel picked it up and flipped through the pages.

“This is…”

Hamel was momentarily speechless.

It was a familiar handwriting.

[October 8, 1815]

Mia is with child. A blessing.

I held her and wept for a long time.

She swept her hand over my hair and smiled brightly.

My light.

Today I will hold the most splendid feast.

It was my father’s diary, Dennis Gilmore’s.

So he had known of this place after all.

Hamel began to turn the pages with trembling hands.

Somehow, he suppressed the urge to flee that had been rising within him.

---

[June 15, 1816]

When the child in her womb stopped moving, I summoned a priest.

The priest shook his head.

Mia fainted.

[June 16, 1816]

A day passed.

No one speaks.

The mansion is steeped in an atmosphere like a graveyard.

Strangers I had never seen before visited the mansion today.

They claimed to know a way to save the child.

Suspicious people.

Where did they hear the news in just a day?

Those who introduced themselves as mages from the Mage Tower handed over something in a flask.

They said it was a potion made from dragon’s blood.

I wanted to turn them away, but my wife was different.

She drank the potion without giving me a chance to stop her.

There was no way the child could be revived.

But I worry about my wife.

I hope nothing happens to her…

[June 18, 1816]

The child has come back to life!

The cleric praised it as a miracle of God.

But Mia and I know it was not a divine miracle.

She simply wept with joy, but I could not.

[March 3, 1818]

Two years have passed since the child’s birth.

The child is healthy.

Today he wandered near the study all day looking for me.

He is a lovely child.

However…

Mia collapsed today.

It was a sickness I had never seen.

Only then did I understand the cause of my unease.

[April 8, 1820]

Mia’s madness has worsened slightly.

I cannot watch her stifle cries and endure the pain.

Today I descended to the basement again to continue my research.

Dragonian transformation.

It is the name of the ailment she suffers from.

An incurable disease.

I will never accept it.

No matter what, I will find a way to restore her.

[December 25, 1825]

It’s all over.

There is no hope.

The only way to restore Mia is to obtain a dragon’s heart.

Lately I have been afraid to look at Hamel.

Because I find it hard to hide the hatred in my eyes toward that child.

I loathe that child.

But I cannot treat the child who resembles her harshly.

…Yes, I cannot give up.

I will cling to it to the end; even if dragons do not exist in this world, their byproducts do.

I cannot give up like this.

Like this…

[August 8, 1828]

My wife has little time left.

The cycles of madness grew shorter and the pain only intensified.

She spends most of her time drugged and asleep, except when with Hamel.

Today she spoke to me.

She said she had no regrets.

For being with Hamel.

She said she was glad she bore that child.

She worried whether she would be all right until Hamel’s birthday in a week.

I comforted my wife as one would soothe a crying child.

[August 14, 1828]

…

…

In the end, my wife did not live to see Hamel’s birthday.

Today she transformed into a monster.

I had heard dragonions go mad from their fits or die from the pain, but I had never seen anything like this.

Clumsily, she had become like a half-dragon.

Did her strong will to live produce this result?

Or was it because the dragon’s blood was split between her and the child?

I cannot know.

But hope arose.

I had been given more time.

Time…

…How many more times must I repeat this?

…Honestly, this burden is only weighing me down.

…

The one fortunate thing is that only Hamel has seen her like this.

I was the one who first rushed in when I heard Hamel’s scream.

I left the collapsed Hamel and took my wife to the family’s hidden basement.

This place would be safe.

I could not tell Hamel the truth.

This was a burden no child should bear.

[December 8, 1828]

Today that child Hamel left the family.

…I felt ashamed, but I was relieved.

At the thought that I would no longer have to face that child.

I cannot bear the disgust I feel toward myself for thinking that.

There is only one way out of this hell.

Restore her.

If I could do that… I might see Hamel again.

We could return to the happy family we once were.

Yes.

Of course.

There will be no need to write this diary any longer.

They say Hamel went to the order.

Will he fare well?

I hope so.

Thunk

Hamel closed the book.

The diary ended there.

Hamel staggered precariously as if he might collapse at any moment.

Pale as blotting paper, Hamel lifted his head with trembling eyes.

On the bed.

What lay before him was not the monster.

Someone who had sacrificed everything for him…

His mother.