The Dragon’s Temple and the Accidental Accomplice

Louis’s note flew up from Cedric’s hand. This time, it took the shape of a bird rather than a butterfly. Flapping its wings more vigorously than the fluttering butterfly had, the note soared toward Pisa Tecon’s bookshelf and pecked at the spine of a book with its paper beak.

Immediately, a sharp shattering sound echoed, like glass breaking. Vibrations rippled toward us, and soon several overlapping circles were drawn upon the floor of the principal’s office. Centered around where Cedric and I stood, ancient scripts flickered intermittently into existence accompanied by a crackling noise. We were standing at the very heart of a massive magic circle.

Starting from the outermost lines of the circles, the floor began to split. The tiles twisted haphazardly—left, then right—descending deeper as they reached the center. I worried for a moment that the ground beneath my feet would suddenly give way, but the floor vanished everywhere except for a single small platform in the dead center of the room, just large enough for a person to stand comfortably.

Strictly speaking, it was a fragment of the floor floating in mid-air. I peered down into the abyss below; it was so deep and dark that the end was nowhere in sight. The sheer depth was enough to make one’s head spin. By all appearances, it seemed we had to jump. The upper walls of the shaft were smooth and looked like they would cause a slide, but further down, the rough rock face was exposed. If I used the walls to brace myself and slow my descent, I could reach the bottom without injury.

Of course, with a mage by my side who could perform levitation magic with his eyes closed, there was no need for me to go scrambling down a dark hole. I looked at Cedric, wordlessly asking what he was doing, only for him to wrap both arms around my shoulders.

“…What are you doing?”

“Mmm… acrophobia.”

“Acropho—”

I was speechless at such nonsense. A guy with a fear of heights stood on a floor he knew was about to collapse? I suppose when a person is faced with something truly absurd, all they can do is laugh. I let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh. Cedric leaned his head in until his face almost brushed my forearm, drooping his eyebrows in a pitiable, sad expression.

“If I go down alone and get scared… what if I fall?”

I think it’d be fine if you just fell… My heart wanted to ignore him and snap, “What do you want me to do about it?” But I couldn’t. I looked down into the pitch-black void. The traps down there were made by a mage. Breaking them might be possible without Cedric, but I needed him to buy enough time to actually retrieve the holy relic and get out.

“What do you want me to do?”

At my words, Cedric overlapped his hands behind my neck and pulled me closer. As I gave him a faint smile, a shallow dimple appeared on his cheek.

“Hold me.”

In the end, unable to ignore his request, I wrapped my arm around his waist. To jump down while carrying a guy significantly taller than me, I had to support him behind his knees and carry him fully in my arms.

A “princess carry” between two men. Of all things… I never imagined I would voluntarily carry a man—and one of the original novel’s leads, at that—so effortlessly. I felt like I was being swindled right before my eyes, unable to shake the feeling that I’d been conned.

The descent wasn’t difficult. When you’ve spent years tumbling through mountains, climbing cliffs with your bare hands is a common occurrence. Compared to going up, going down was much easier.

Whenever I paused to check the path and find a foothold, Cedric tightened his grip around my neck. Soon, small lights like fireflies drifted up. Thanks to them, even as we fell at high speeds, I could distinguish the colors of the rocks forming the walls. With the guesswork removed, our descent gained momentum.

Fear of heights, my foot. I scoffed internally. The Cedric Klein who claimed he was too terrified to even use magic was being carried with total serenity, not trembling in the least. His face was so brazenly calm it made me want to mess with him out of spite.

“I thought you were scared?”

“I am…”

Cedric replied in a small voice, leaning his head against my chest. Thanks to the lights, his downcast lashes cast long shadows on his pale cheeks. If I looked closely, I could see the corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. He seemed quite pleased that things were going exactly his way. I snorted at his demure response.

No matter how deep the precipice seemed, it was ultimately only the height of a few stories. Before long, the bottom drew near. I bent my knees and landed lightly, then set down the clinging Cedric. Even after his feet touched the floor, his arms remained wrapped around the back of my neck, so I had to personally peel them off.

Cedric grumbled in a sullen voice.

“Why put something important in such a shallow place…”

I ignored him and surveyed the surroundings. The path down had been rough, exposing the raw geological layers, but the area we had arrived in felt like a massive temple.

The ivory-colored floor was polished so flawlessly that no seams were visible, and massive pillars supported a high ceiling. Flanking the long, wide path were channels, but instead of water, they were filled with an opaque, silver-gray substance that looked like liquid metal.

I asked Cedric to extinguish the lights. The small sparks sputtered out. However, even with the artificial light gone, the interior remained bright.

Looking up, I saw ripples of light shimmering from the ceiling. The light moved near the high ceiling as if it were alive, possessing a quality that felt almost hypnotic. It looked like a cluster of tiny creatures moving in unison, or like fabric fluttering in the breeze. It even resembled sunlight leaking through cracks. Given how deep we were, it couldn’t possibly be real sunlight; it had to be an illusion.

If the purpose of this design was to overwhelm the viewer with a sense of divinity, it was a success. Even without a single intricate carving, the interior felt like a grand temple. After the initial awe at the craftsmanship, the question followed: who made this, and why?

Until we descended, I had assumed the lower level was also Pisa Tecon’s creation. But it wasn’t. Though it was in good condition—likely protected by magic—the architecture carried a weight of time that was hard to put into words. This wasn’t a recently built structure.

The style was ancient. This specific design—massive, unadorned pillars supporting a vast ceiling, with paintings of uniform size joined together like giant tiles—was something usually only found in the Imperial Palace. It meant this dated back to the ancient, mythological eras.

Was it built to house the holy relic? If so, how long had the relic been here?

Sensing my attention was elsewhere, Cedric, who had been pestering me at my side, spoke up casually.

“I guess they modeled it after the Dragon’s Temple.”

“The Dragon’s… Temple?”

I frowned, chewing over his words. Unfortunately, because I had spent the last five years obsessing solely over the sword, my knowledge was stuck at the level of whatever I had frantically crammed into my head in my early teens.

When I asked for clarification, he pointed a finger toward the ceiling.

“Yeah… the Temple of Gala.”

Where he pointed, a man holding a spear reached out, though it was difficult to make out the form since it was carved from stone of the same color. The light emanating from the ceiling shone behind him like a halo. I studied the ceiling carefully and soon realized his identity. A god who appeared with light, cleaving the sky amidst the clouds. It was the Sky God, Gala.

“Bohendemer?”

The Empire had no official state religion, but there was a faith that was treated as such. First was Yakap, the Sun God, a familiar figure from the Empire’s founding myth. The Solar Festival honoring Yakap was held alongside the Emperor’s birthday, so his influence went without saying.

Second was Gala, the King of Gods.

As one of the seven children of the ‘Beginning,’ Gala was called the ‘Ruler of All Gods,’ presiding over agriculture, judgment, weather, and anything else considered “good.” Consequently, even in an age where many gods’ names had been forgotten, Gala remained deeply significant. He wasn’t the most “popular” god, but he was one of the most important. The Empire respected Gala enough to treat his High Priest with the same status as a Marquis.

The Bohendemer Temple was the supreme temple of Gala. It wasn’t a place frequented by the masses, but it was a site of immense historical importance. For this place to have a presence that Cedric would compare to the ‘Dragon’s Temple,’ it had to be at that level.

“Yeah.”

Skreeeeeee!

As Cedric was explaining the unique features of the Bohendemer Temple, a sharp, high-pitched screech echoed from somewhere. The sound, like a beast’s cry, seemed to come from far away at first, but it closed the distance in an instant.

My sword swung toward the approaching threat faster than my mind could identify it.

Kyah!

As I slashed through the thing coming at us with incredible speed, the split creature slammed into the floor. Its fluttering wings were pitch black and oversized for its body. About the size of a crow, it had a bird’s beak, but its wings were strangely membranous, like a bat’s. The severed surface was merely black and no blood flowed, suggesting it wasn’t a living creature but a magical construct.

I was momentarily flustered by the sudden ambush, but it wasn’t something I couldn’t handle. However, what happened next made me doubt my eyes. Even after being split in two, the creature groaned as if it weren’t quite dead, and new wings sprouted from the body. The wings, initially fragile as if newly born, quickly grew firm like the originals, and soon, two birds took flight with a frantic beating of wings.