At least try to mind your image, you dragon.
Even if you're not going to turn fully human, could you at least take on a half-dragon form before saying things like that?
Look at you now. How am I supposed to respond?
And there are two people right beside me watching every move I make.
Nolan's lips curved slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes.
He enjoyed talking to someone this interesting. At the very least, it kept things from becoming dull.
With complete ease, he leaned back and let his body rest against the broad, solid dragon's back as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"We can talk about that later. What interests me more is this—why are you so fascinated by the power inside me?"
He raised an eyebrow, a half-smile playing on his lips as he looked at Lansseax.
Lansseax let out a soft laugh. Her deep, beautiful eyes shone with curiosity.
"Because it's special. Go on, tell me more. It really is fascinating."
To her, whether the power was tied to some god wasn't the important part. What mattered was that it intrigued her.
Since ancient times, humans had longed for the strength of dragons. The Ancient Dragons never stopped them. Instead, they guided and made use of that longing.
Over time, this gave rise to Dragon Communion, which hunted sinners and transformed humans through Dragon Hearts, and later to the Ancient Dragon Faith, which allowed mortals to wield the lightning of the Ancient Dragons.
Both were remarkable creations.
Yet now there was someone who needed neither Dragon Heart nor faith in the Ancient Dragons, and still commanded a power akin to theirs—perhaps even greater.
That was something dragons could not ignore.
"You could name your price," Lansseax continued with an easy smile, her gray-white wings beating steadily through the air. "As long as you're willing to tell me more, I'm more than happy to offer something of equal value."
"There's nothing else to tell," Nolan replied flatly. "I've already said everything there is to say."
He wasn't the type to lose his head over a pretty face, much less reveal his secrets just because someone looked good.
Lansseax's smile didn't fade. Her wings cut through the wind with quick, powerful strokes.
"In that case, I suppose I'll just have to keep watching you. I'll figure it out myself, slowly."
Nolan shot her a lazy glance.
"Suit yourself. How much you can discover depends entirely on your own ability."
...
Time passed quietly. Before they realized it, the third night had arrived.
The Haligtree—Elphael, the holy city second only to Leyndell in splendor.
As warriors marched one after another to the battlefield, the once-bustling city had grown cold and empty.
Two people, one dragon, and a Demigod's avatar walked through the deserted streets.
Grand buildings still lined the roads, magnificent and imposing, yet not a single civilian lingered. Only patrolling soldiers moved through the city at intervals.
Even the Dragon Lady, who was usually curious about anything new, found nothing here to hold her interest.
Nolan clearly knew this route by heart. He moved lightly through winding streets, climbed flight after flight of stairs, and finally entered the hollow interior of a massive branch.
Once inside, he looked around carefully, scanning left and right as though afraid of missing even the smallest clue.
So simple.
Lansseax, long accustomed to the gilded estates of royalty and nobility, found the plainness surprising.
In her imagination, the residence of an Empyrean should have been lavish—rare furnishings, countless attendants, priceless works of art everywhere.
Marika had never understood the meaning of frugality.
No one stopped them along the way. Only at the entrance to the Empyrean's quarters did several Haligtree Knights check their identities.
When they recognized two Golden Needle Knights and a Cleanrot Knight who closely resembled Her Highness Malenia, they respectfully allowed them inside.
The three entered and searched the rooms, but the result was disappointing.
Neither the brilliant Empyrean nor the Saintess Nolan had always kept in his thoughts was here.
The guards' calm expressions suggested there had been no invasion.
So where had the Saintess gone?
While the others were still puzzled, Malenia walked slowly to Trina's large bed and sat down.
"Perhaps… at the roots."
She mimicked the thoughtful gesture her brother and sister often used, gently holding her chin as she spoke.
"Brother once sought to replace the Erdtree with the Haligtree, to ascend as a god through his own Order. He said that before Nolan became Lord, he wanted to make one final attempt."
That reminded Nolan.
Miquella had embedded himself within the Haligtree, only to later be dug out by Mohg.
If Miquella had already been controlling Mohg, things would not have turned out that way. It would have been pointless. Which meant he truly hadn't known Mohg was coming.
He would have to ask Trina directly.
Since this wouldn't be interfering with the Saintess's plans, Nolan grinned.
"My decision this time…" He licked his lips. "Looks like it was the right one."
After searching to no avail, he led them deeper toward the roots.
Other than Trina, no one knew this tree better than he and Malenia.
It was from these very roots that the gentle Empyrean had once found the Promised Consort.
According to legend, within the roots there had once burned a faint but stubborn little flame, like a lone star flickering in the night sky.
Then, with a soft crack, the flame suddenly changed—transforming into a delicate infant.
Like an angel descending from the heavens, it drifted gently into the Saintess's warm palms.
That was Trina's bedtime-story version, of course. Slightly embellished. The angel part was entirely her imagination.
According to a certain Valkyrie who preferred to remain unnamed, the Saintess had actually stumbled and fallen while holding the baby because she hadn't been watching her step.
But the facts remained.
That infant was Nolan.
And that was how he first met Trina.