Chapter 22

This was my first time riding on the back of an Agrix dragon.

“Oh.”

And that first experience was, embarrassingly, nothing short of fantastic.

I found myself marveling at Kazen’s ability — the way he moved his two pairs of wings so fluidly against the wind, flying at a speed that made every dragon I’d ridden before seem like it didn’t belong in the same conversation.

But the most striking difference, if I had to pick one, was the temperature.

Flying with a dragon usually comes with cold. The higher you climb, the colder and sharper the wind gets.

That was why cold-weather gear was essential for flying with a dragon. Even if it was sweltering midsummer on the ground, a bitter, freezing wind tore at you the entire flight once you were airborne.

But the Agrix breed carried the nickname “the living volcano.” Its true nature — stirring up changes in the air even from a distance — shone even brighter in flight.

“Warm, even without flight gear.”

I marveled at the air, warm as if it had carried the ground’s heat up with it. On top of that, Kazen seemed to be minding me, his rider — the moment I shifted even slightly, he adjusted his body to match.

“It’s a completely different league.”

To borrow an expression from my past life, it was the difference between driving a beat-up used car and climbing into the latest sports model. I was starting to think that after riding Kazen, I might never be able to fly on another dragon again.

“If I had to guess where the dragon steeds would go…”

Given how closely their habits resembled horses, there was a good chance they’d fled toward open pastureland.

I gave the reins a light tug and sent the signal, and Kazen climbed high into the sky. As our altitude rose, the terrain below came into clearer view.

“Hmm, hmm… Ah! There they are!”

I spotted shapes running in a pack far off across the plains and pressed lightly against Kazen’s side with my heel. Reading my intent at once, Kazen folded his wings and began dropping at speed.

A herd of dragon steeds came into view, cutting across the plain at a run. I hadn’t worked at the ducal house long enough to be certain every one of them belonged to it, but I could tell the one leading the pack did.

“That one’s the leader.”

The dragon steed leading the herd was one I recognized immediately. Bigger than the rest, with horns that gleamed sapphire-blue and faintly translucent — its appearance wasn’t something I could easily forget.

I pulled out the training whistle from my coat and blew it. The dragon steed leading the charge flicked its ears at the sound.

“Prrrrrrt.”

Spotting us closing in from above, it let out a sharp cry, warning the rest of the herd.

“Sorry, but you’re coming back with me.”

I know, going back to a place full of trainers who do nothing but bark orders without even feeding you properly feels like a raw deal. But if you all run off, I’m the one who ends up in trouble. And besides — what if some other dragon decides to eat you?

I smiled, watching the dragon steed snort roughly through its nose, wary and on guard. If I’d come alone, I’d have been at a loss. But I wasn’t alone.

The apprentice trainers of the Albarant ducal house were in a state of panic. Dragon steeds made up the vast majority of the dragons still left at the house.

They had a build and frame similar to horses, but their bodies were wrapped in scales instead of fur, with horns that branched out like a deer’s and sleek, agile tails — and an appetite that didn’t discriminate between foods. That was what a dragon steed was.

If they could be properly managed, a unit of dragon steeds was more useful than any cavalry. They fought with far more ferocity than trained war horses, yet still obeyed their rider’s commands well.

And now that same herd had broken loose, leaving the pens all but empty. With two-thirds of the stalls standing bare, the trainers sat slumped on the ground, utterly stricken.

“What do we do…”

Bruce looked just as close to tears as the rest of them. He wiped at the sweat dripping down his jaw and forced his voice to rise anyway.

“Once we’ve caught our breath, let’s go after them again!”

“Chase them how?! Dragon steeds run far faster than people!”

“So you’re just going to sit here with your hands folded?!”

“Even on horseback, the horses panic and bolt the moment we get close to them, so that’s impossible too. And even if we did find them, do you think they’d actually follow us?”

Bruce glared at the trainer who’d said nothing but the plain truth. But the mood had already spiraled, out of control, down into the pit.

Damn it…

Honestly, he was just as lost as the rest of them. Even if they found the dragon steeds, he had no idea how they’d actually bring them back.

“So what, we’re just supposed to sit here and do nothing? You want to die? If His Grace demands accountability for losing the dragon steeds, do you have any clear plan for how we’re going to make up for it?”

At that, the trainers froze stiff. None of them had an answer for that either. If anything, it was even more terrifying put that way.

“If you understand, then go find them, quickly—”

“B-Bruce!!”

A trainer came scrambling over toward the gathered group. He was the one who’d been sent to find Trainer Litia.

“What’s wrong?”

“Th-the dragon steeds…”

The trainer gasped out the words, chest heaving from running at full speed.

“The dragon steeds are back!”

At that, the trainers bolted outside on instinct. And there, before their eyes, was the herd of dragon steeds, with an Agrix dragon flying above them.

The one running out in front was a face they all recognized too. Blue horns, a huge build — the one that had firmly established itself as the leader among the ducal house’s dragon steeds.

And on the back of that dragon steed, someone was riding.

No reins, no saddle — just a firm grip on the mane, handling the dragon steed with practiced ease. It was Litia.

“…!!”

The leader was so vicious it wouldn’t let anyone but its own partner ride it. Watching Litia come racing in on its back was enough to leave the trainers thoroughly unable to process what they were seeing.

“Open the training yard gate!”

At Litia’s shout, several trainers scrambled to throw the gate open, and Litia rode the dragon steed straight through, charging into the training yard.

The moment the herd poured in after her in a rush, a shadow passed overhead as the Agrix dragon swooped away.

Litia patted the neck of the dragon steed as it snorted roughly and scraped at the ground with its forehoof, then slid off its back with a light, easy motion.

“Tr-Trainer Litia.”

One of the trainers approached hesitantly. Litia turned her head.

“Were any of you even thinking straight, or not?!”

Her furious shout made every trainer’s shoulders hunch on instinct.

“The most basic job of a trainer is managing their dragons! So where exactly is the trainer who lets their dragons escape — and not just one, but an entire herd of them!”

No one could answer. They’d failed at the most basic thing there was, and they didn’t even have an excuse to offer.

“Isn’t the loss from losing dragons something the ducal house has to bear? Just how were you planning to clean this up?”

“We— we were going to go out looking for the dragon steeds…”

“On foot? Chasing dragon steeds that run faster than horses and have far more stamina?”

She shook her head after asking, as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“…Do any of you have nothing to say for yourselves?”

She swept the trainers with a sharp look afterward. Unable to withstand that gaze, Bruce stepped forward.

“…Th-thank you. Trainer Litia.”

“Not that.”

He didn’t understand what she meant, and it left him baffled.

“Can you tell me something like this won’t happen again?”

At that, Bruce’s mouth clamped shut. Feeling himself shrink smaller and smaller under Litia’s cold, clear-eyed gaze, he dropped his head.

“…I have nothing to say.”

“Do you admit there was something wrong with the way you’ve been doing things?”

“Yes. We admit it.”

“Then are you willing to stop this pointless tug-of-war and actually work together?”

With the herd’s escape barely resolved, there wasn’t a single person left with the nerve to dig in their heels.

“We’ll listen carefully to whatever you have to teach us, Trainer.”

“…Good. That doesn’t mean I’m dismissing the effort the trainers here have put into this house up until now.”

Litia let out a short sigh before continuing.

“Respecting each other. That’s all it takes.”

Once she’d said that, she gave the trainers their instructions.

“For now, get the dragon steeds back into their pens. They’ve been running hard, so if you offer them treats, they should settle down and listen. I need to go look after the Agrix dragon…”

“Understood, Trainer.”

They answered with quick, lowered heads, then pulled out the treats they always carried in their pockets and began coaxing the dragon steeds, herding them gently back toward the pens.

Litia was stroking Kazen, who had landed nearby. But no one raised a complaint or a question about her actions anymore.

Litia was the one who’d brought back the dragon steeds that had escaped. They weren’t shameless enough to demand anything more from the person who’d cleaned up a mess that was their own fault to begin with.

If anything, they owed her their thanks. If things had gone badly, they might all have been fired — or, given the nature of what had happened at the ducal house, silenced for good. She’d saved them from that.

“There, there. I’m sorry.”

Kazen let out a discontented rumble, thumping his tail against the ground, his face plainly sulking.

The reason was obvious. He’d been in a foul mood from the moment she tried to ride the dragon steeds’ leader, and when she’d stopped him from attacking it, he’d gone and pouted like this.

“It was only for a moment. It’s over now. I’m not getting on their backs again.”

“Grrrrrrr!”

“There, there. You held it together even though you hated it. Aww, good boy.”

Coaxing him like a child, she rubbed his snout and cheek thoroughly, and only then did Kazen, who’d been snorting roughly through his nose, start to show signs of calming down.

Well, I’ll be.

She’d had all sorts of grand ideas about what an Agrix dragon would be like, but which trainer could have guessed it would turn out to be this quick to sulk and this jealous?

She fed Kazen a treat and made up her mind. Now that the apprentice trainers seemed willing to cooperate, she’d have to teach them properly so they stopped making a fuss over the other dragons. If she had to keep repeating this endless round of coaxing, she wouldn’t have any years left to live.