The Indifferent Guardian

As soon as Ailen, the tiny human, finished his introduction, the dragon’s fleeting amusement vanished, replaced by a heavy, familiar boredom. This fickle and impatient dragon had already jumped to his own conclusions.

There wasn’t much a high-ranking human would ask of a dragon. They always wanted the same things: for a Great Being to satisfy their mundane greeds. Their desires were rarely altruistic; they were almost exclusively selfish.

‘It’s incredibly offensive.’

Kaiern didn’t know about other dragons, but he loathed such humans. Unless there was a long-standing friendship, humans who had only just met him tended to act as if he owed them a miracle. Judging that Ailen’s visit was no different, Kaiern decided to spare the boy’s life only because he had provided a moment of entertainment.

“I have two favors to ask of you.”

At Ailen’s words, Kaiern’s expression shifted to one of “here we go again,” lamenting the predictable greed of man.

‘And not just one, but two? How gluttonous.’

Just as the offended dragon was considering rescinding his mercy, the tiny human spoke again.

“Please protect a certain person.”

Kaiern stared back with a dull, indifferent gaze. Despite the species gap, the waves of displeasure radiating from the dragon were palpable, so Ailen hurriedly added:

“That person is the son of your dear friend!”

[Hmm?]

At that shout, Kaiern’s apathy vanished. He lowered his regally perched head, bringing it so close that the wind from his movement nearly knocked Ailen over. Ailen had to grab the dragon’s snout to steady himself. Two massive, golden eyes locked onto him.

Before Ailen could explain further, Kaiern spoke.

[Are you that child?]

“Che—wait, what?”

[No, you aren’t. You don’t look like him at all. You don’t look like that man, and you don’t look like the priestess girl. Come to think of it, you do smell like that man… but why do you also smell like me?]

“No, wait a sec—”

[Wait, why are you a Crown Prince? Was that man an Emperor? No, that can’t be right.]

Ailen realized Kaiern was confused. As the dragon spiraled into a muttered monologue of “How strange, how very strange,” Ailen shouted to reclaim his attention.

“Kaiern! The person you need to protect isn’t me! It’s someone else!”

The muttering stopped. Kaiern narrowed his eyes, his piercing gaze making Ailen shiver.

[Then who are you? Why did you come to speak for the boy instead of him coming himself? And tell me why you smell like me.]

Ailen took a breath to steady his racing heart and organize his thoughts.

“As I said, I am Ailen, the Crown Prince of the Empire. The boy, Chase, couldn’t come because of certain circumstances. And… I’m not sure how to explain the smell, but…”

He worried this might turn the dragon against him, but honesty was the only way forward.

“It’s likely because I drank your poison, Kaiern.”

God, I said it. Ailen squeezed his fists tight. He couldn’t hide it; losing the dragon’s trust now would be fatal.

‘He really is massive.’

The body that had looked huge while coiled up was gargantuan now that he was alert. The legends of dragons being as large as mountains weren’t exaggerations. When Ailen realized that the “shove” that had woken him was actually just a light snort from the dragon’s nostrils, he felt a fresh wave of awe.

Yet, strangely, he felt no fear. Was it because he knew this dragon wasn’t a senseless killer? Or was it the faint Divine Blood in his veins? Whatever the reason, his heart remained calm. He felt a flush of embarrassment remembering he had addressed this 5,000-year-old ancient as “Excuse me.”

‘He’s basically a very, very large elder.’

His pride as a Crown Prince—a descendant of gods who bowed to no one but the Emperor and Empress—had initially balked at using honorifics for a “beast.” But the part of him that had lived 38 years in a world where age commanded respect quickly won out. The Prince’s stubbornness snapped like a dry twig in the face of such overwhelming existence.

He sat quietly, waiting for Kaiern to finish processing the information.

[…You drank my poison?]

Kaiern asked again, as if the concept was physically impossible. Ailen nodded. The dragon hummed, sifting through his long memory.

[I did give my poison to that man once. Did it pass to the young priestess?]

If that were the case, the mixture of his scent and the father’s scent made sense.

[But why? If you drank that poison, it means the priestess judged you to be the boy’s enemy. Is that not so?]

The dragon’s eyes were void of emotion. There was no hostility, only a clinical curiosity. It felt chillingly inhuman.

‘I suppose it’s silly to look for “humanity” in a dragon.’

He had the intellect to converse, but did he lack emotion? If Ailen were in his position—seeing someone wounded by a weapon he had given to a friend—he would be wary. But Kaiern seemed utterly indifferent to the moral weight of it.

Ailen decided to tell the whole story: from Dalia leaving the Great Forest to her death in the Empire. Much of the early parts were guesswork based on the original novel’s lore, but the core truth remained.

“…And so, she chose death. In exchange, I promised to cover her sins and take responsibility for her son, Chase.”

Kaiern remained silent. He just looked down with those vacant, golden eyes. Ailen grew anxious. Why wasn’t he saying anything? He hadn’t reacted when Ailen admitted to bullying Chase, nor when he explained how Dalia used the poison.

“I took Chase in and intended to protect him until he could live a normal life as an adult. But everything went wrong when the White Dragon’s priestesses showed up.”

Still no interest. Ailen felt a wave of “existential fatigue,” but he was the one in need, so he pressed on.

“They claim Chase is the subject of a prophecy—that he will destroy the world. That is why I am here in the Great Forest, standing before you.”

[I see.]

Ailen felt a surge of relief at the response. He was about to ask Kaiern to safeguard Chase and tell the White Dragon to retract the prophecy when the dragon spoke again.

[So your request is for me to protect the boy.]

“Yes. And also—”

[Where is he?]

“In the White Dragon’s village. But there’s something else—”

[What is it?]

“We have to correct the White Dragon’s prophecy. So that—”

[Is there a need for that?]

“Pardon?”

[I’m saying there is no need to correct the prophecy.]

Ailen stared up, mouth agape. Kaiern still looked utterly bored.

[I am here. Who would dare lay a finger on the boy while I am present?]

It was a statement of absolute, draconic arrogance. Ailen was momentarily speechless. Kaiern was right; if a dragon protected him, Chase would be safe.

‘Safe, yes… but if the prophecy isn’t corrected, what kind of life will Chase have?’

He would be feared and shunned. The title of “World Destroyer” would follow him like a shadow. People would judge him before they ever met him. He would be isolated from everyone except Kaiern.

‘Wait… how is that any different from the original novel?’

In the book, Kaiern was Chase’s only companion, his only ally, his only source of understanding.

‘…No, I was wrong.’

Kaiern wasn’t a companion. He wasn’t even an ally. The original novel was written from Chase’s perspective, so everything was filtered through Chase’s desperate hope.

Looking at the dragon now, Ailen realized the truth. To Kaiern, this wasn’t about love or friendship.

‘He’s just a bystander.’