I, Viretta, Am Going to Hunt a Dragon

Chapter 44

 
Debating intelligence over simple two-digit arithmetic is one thing, but taking joy in such a debate? That’s plain foolishness.
A quiet sigh escaped Ranken’s lips.

"Indeed, your intelligence seems entirely normal. However..."
While Viretta’s quick grasp of money matters suggested she wasn’t unintelligent, her frequent boasting and over-the-top ambition often gave the impression otherwise.
Still, factoring everything in, she was likely of average intellect. Saffron, purchased and brought along, wasn’t dealing with an outright fool.

"Your intelligence is normal, so why have you completely lost your mind?"
This realization plunged Saffron into despair.
If they had functioning intelligence and judgment, why were they hunting a dragon? With this group? Why?

Even with his limited worldview as a born-and-raised slave, Saffron couldn’t fathom the logic.
"You still don’t understand, Saffron. The dragon has descended upon the mines, causing the Medleidge family great financial loss. Naturally, this loss must be resolved, leading to a partnership with a family of considerable—"
"Exactly! But why are you two staking your lives on something like this? Explain it to me in terms even a lowly slave could understand. Surely, you, who are so much greater, aren’t as blind as I must be!"

"To summarize, Iola is writing a thesis, and I’m fighting for a future with someone I love," Viretta said with a grin.
"A future where you’re chewed up and swallowed by a dragon, no doubt? Forgive my bluntness, but that’s the only outcome this pitiful slave can foresee…"
Saffron’s words were steeped in passive aggression as he lashed out at Viretta with each syllable.

His dark energy radiated through the carriage, making even Ranken uncomfortable as he sat up on the driver’s seat.
"Let me ask, why write a thesis about dragons in the first place? Does failing to do so mean someone’s coming to kill you? Even a lowly slave values his life; are noble-borns different?"
"The pursuit of knowledge is a path that demands the risk of one’s life," Iola answered smoothly, entirely unaffected by Saffron’s jabs.

Viretta and Iola, impervious to passive aggression, continued the conversation as if Saffron had been earnest.
Saffron’s shadowed face twisted in frustration.
"Oh, so sacrificing a few lives for the sake of your studies is perfectly acceptable? How noble, truly noble."
"While noble status is irrelevant to my studies, I appreciate the compliment."

"Of course, of course. My insignificant slave’s life… perfectly fine to grind beneath a dragon’s molars, I suppose."
"I’ll be the first to be ground up, so you don’t need to worry."
"Ah, what a relief. I’ll sleep soundly dreaming of being chewed up by dragon fangs tonight."

"Such passion, dreaming even of dragons. Viretta, your eye for talent is impeccable."
With a pleasant smile, Iola delivered what sounded like heartfelt praise, while Viretta, standing behind him, smugly puffed out her chest as if basking in his validation.
Their impenetrable optimism sank Saffron completely.

The most difficult opponents are those with whom you simply cannot communicate.
Though they seemed to be speaking the same language, the conversation spiraled into a nightmare of disconnection.
Saffron’s futile attempts to reason spiraled into endless, fruitless exchanges.

Defeated, Saffron collapsed onto the floor, emitting a thick aura of despair.
"Damn it… I’m doomed… heh, heheh…"
"Welcome to hell, rookie," Ranken quipped from the driver’s seat, tossing a word of “encouragement” to the rolling newcomer behind him.

Having endured Viretta’s antics for eight years, Ranken seemed well-equipped to impart wisdom to the hapless Saffron.
Unlike Saffron, who still clung to futile resistance, Ranken had long since resigned himself to the absurdity of dragon hunting. Watching the bickering duo behind him, a question arose in his mind.
"Come to think of it, Iola, why did you choose to write a thesis on dragons?"

"Their massive economic and cultural impact on our society is disproportionate to the scarcity of research on them. Also, their strength makes them inherently fascinating."
"No, I mean something more basic. The academy has loads of departments. You’re good at just about everything, so why did you pick natural sciences? Does it even make money?"
"It doesn’t, not at all."

Iola’s response was as crisp and clear as ever. Ranken narrowed his eyes skeptically.
"Then why bother?"
"Money is neither here nor there for me. Rather than working to amass wealth, I wish to place a single stone on the tower of knowledge with my own hands."

"Hah! Spoken like someone who can afford to say such lofty things. A slave like me, struggling just to survive each day, couldn’t possibly relate."
Iola’s boundless optimism collided head-on with Saffron’s ferocious cynicism, creating a strangely satisfying balance.
It was almost like watching an intricately choreographed duel: no matter how sharp the strikes, neither landed a hit, the blades slicing through empty air.

Finding the dynamic oddly entertaining, Ranken awarded a point to both Viretta for her uncanny knack for picking people and Saffron for his persistent defiance.
"So, Iola, did you come to Filian to study natural sciences?"
"No, originally I was a double major in cultural studies and mathematics. Filian’s philosophy and math programs are superior to others."

"Given your background in a bloody family, wouldn’t you have been better suited for the knight’s department?"
From the floor, where he lay like a mud-covered rag, Saffron muttered another sarcastic remark.
For someone heading into dragon territory, his relentless resistance and criticism made him surprisingly well-suited for the task. Though he valued his life enough to complain, he seemed entirely willing to throw it away in practice.

"The knight’s department was useless to me. I’d already fulfilled the graduation requirements upon admission."
"I… I see."
Both Saffron and Viretta jolted slightly at this revelation.

Graduation requirements for the knight’s department included completing four years of coursework and achieving a physique above average or martial skills equivalent to a Centurion—a commander capable of leading a hundred soldiers.
Centurion-level skill generally required defeating at least two other Centurions in battle, a feat rarely achieved in modern times.
Yet Iola claimed to have met these requirements effortlessly.

"Besides, war is boring. I have no interest in pursuing it."
The sheer casualness with which he dismissed the topic of war sent chills down both Viretta and Saffron’s spines.
Though Iola’s demeanor was gentle and unassuming, a dangerous aura loomed behind his kind smile.

Brushing aside the conversation on warfare, Iola continued.
"Studying was enjoyable. It didn’t take me long to complete the core curriculum for cultural studies and mathematics. However, as I began my thesis, I realized my chosen topic required a deeper understanding of Filian’s laws."
"Ah, I see," Viretta chimed in, though she hardly understood what he meant.

"Culture is deeply intertwined with law and economics, so I decided to study law and accounting as well."
"Wow. That’s impressive."
Viretta nodded along vacantly, unable to follow the connections. Thankfully, Iola’s tendency to interpret her responses positively made him a convenient and lovable companion.

"However, even after studying law and accounting, I found gaps in my understanding when drafting my thesis. That led me to physics."
"I… see."
By this point, Viretta was growing visibly pale.

Already juggling five majors, Iola now revealed he had added physics to the mix.
"And while studying physics, I developed an interest in geology. Then came zoology."
"Finally!"

"Yes, finally. So after completing natural sciences, I decided to focus my thesis on dragons."
"……"
Seven majors.

Iola, at 23 years old, had not only studied seven demanding subjects but had brought five of them to the verge of completion.
For most, a single major required four grueling years.
"You’re incredibly talented, Iola."

Viretta’s gaze darkened slightly as she reassessed her fiancé.
Arms crossed, she scrutinized Iola from head to toe.
"Flawless in both intellect and physical prowess. A perfect family background and impeccable character. Truly…"

"An ideal husband," Ranken interjected.
"A reason to break off the engagement," Viretta muttered under her breath, closing her eyes in resignation.
Despite liking his personality, his capabilities were overwhelming. Marrying a man like him would leave her feeling utterly redundant.

However, Viretta’s logic was difficult for most to grasp.
Still baffled, Saffron crawled toward the driver’s seat, whispering in Ranken’s ear.
"Did I miss something? Did her affection drop because she thinks, *‘I’m not good enough for him…’? Please tell me this isn’t some third-rate melodrama."

Though Saffron’s voice was low, everyone in the carriage could hear him. Yet only a few took him seriously.
"Eh, I don’t get it either, but that’s just how Viretta is."
"Unbelievable. If she’s so intent on ruining her life, she might as well marry me instead."

Saffron’s bitter remark hung in the air, spreading an awkward tension through the carriage.
"……"
"……"

"……"
A peculiar sense of unease settled over the group.