Chapter 75: Wonderful Age Gap
But following the High Priest’s line of thought, Misha quickly realized—
Indeed, for someone unaware of the inside story, the High Priest’s deduction was the reasonable one.
Apart from the Demon King, who else thought all day about making the gods unhappy?
He had inexplicably taken the blame for a huge disaster, yet he could only smile at the High Priest and reluctantly praise the High Priest’s guess as reasonable.
Not only him, but even the real culprit, the Hero, nodded along.
“Makes sense,” Lance agreed very much. “I will definitely make the Demon King suffer punishment.”
Misha: “…”
Damn it. At a time like this, he could only nod along with Lance.
Lance added, “I will get rid of the Demon King.”
High Priest: “…Mm.”
Misha: “…”
They fell into a strange silence again.
Since this crime was committed by the “Demon King,” and the Hero destined to eliminate the Demon King had already made a promise, then staying here… was completely pointless, wasn’t it?
This was the Hero’s duty to begin with. Strictly speaking, it had nothing to do with the High Priest. They only needed to fulfill their responsibility of assisting the Hero. In that case, the High Priest could return to the Royal Capital’s Church right now, and Misha and the Hero could leave the Elf Town immediately to continue their journey.
Hmm… Misha felt this matter seemed to have ended a bit abruptly.
He turned his head and looked at the Hero beside him with some bewilderment, asking, “Then we…”
Lance: “Let’s go.”
Misha: “…Just like that?”
Lance: “Let’s go back.”
Misha: “…”
“No need to stay here any longer,” Lance said. “Those who should return to the Church, hurry back to the Church.”
High Priest: “Uh…”
What the Hero said… really made sense.
The three walked out in silence again, but the High Priest and Misha still felt strange.
It was like they had meticulously planned a scheme and thought of many ways to catch the real culprit, only for all plans to inexplicably fall through in the end, leaving them to return resentfully.
Ismael had already sent knights to find Arlo. He re-entered the Holy Land and met the group halfway. Finding it a bit strange, he subconsciously asked, “Your Holiness, Lord Lance, why have you returned?”
Lance smiled slightly and said, “We already know the real culprit.”
Misha, who was forced to take the blame: “…”
Ismael couldn’t hide the excitement in his emotions and pursued, “Who is it?”
High Priest: “…The Demon King.”
Ismael didn’t doubt the High Priest’s judgment at all. He nodded affirmatively and said, “From the beginning, I felt it might be the Demon King.”
Misha: “…”
Ismael: “Then what should we do now?”
He seemed to have already come up with several plans in his mind, ready to attack the Demon King’s castle. Among these plans, even the worst one involved causing trouble outside the detestable Demon King’s castle. But the High Priest looked at him silently and said with a complex expression, “Return to the Royal Capital first.”
Ismael: “…”
Ismael was a bit bewildered.
“The gods have entrusted the mission of killing the Demon King to the Hero,” the High Priest said. “I believe in the Savior Hero’s ability.”
Ismael slowly turned his head to look at Lance standing aside.
Lance gave him a brilliant, unadorned smile.
Ismael: “…”
Misha felt his day had been like a dream.
In the middle of the night, he saw the Gate destroyed and learned the Hero’s true colors; in the morning, he met Ismael, Commander of the Royal Capital’s Knights Order, and became the Hero’s accomplice; at noon, the High Priest of the Church arrived personally to investigate the truth of the Gate’s destruction with them; and now—
The matter was inexplicably resolved.
The High Priest had already returned to the Royal Capital. Ismael was organizing the Knights Order to withdraw from here. He left some knights in the town to help find Arlo, but he himself didn’t seem to intend to stay longer—after all, for him, his mission by the Church and the High Priest’s side was far more important than staying in this small town.
Before leaving, he specifically sought out Lance and Misha to say goodbye.
“A few days ago, the Royal Capital received a letter from Prince Deventer,” Ismael said, seeming unable to suppress the gratitude in his heart, bowing slightly to Lance and Misha. “His Majesty will be very grateful to you.”
Misha: “…”
Good. If Ismael hadn’t mentioned it, Misha would have almost forgotten about Deventer.
“I look forward to seeing you in the Royal Capital,” Ismael thought for a moment and couldn’t help smiling again. “I will wait for you in the Royal Capital.”
Misha had to smile along with him. Just as he was about to respond politely, he suddenly noticed the silent Hero’s gaze.
Behind Ismael, Sylvia had transformed into his golden dragon form, lowering his slender neck slightly, his head resting gently behind Ismael. His beautiful vertical golden pupils shone brilliantly in the sunlight.
Misha: “…”
Why is he looking at the dragon again!!!
Ismael didn’t notice the Hero’s obsession with dragons. He just turned to Lance and said sincerely, “Lord Lance, after you arrive in the Royal Capital, I hope to have the opportunity to spar with you.”
Lance: “Mm…”
He stared at the dragon.
Ismael: “I heard from Samuel that you are an excellent swordsman.”
Lance: “Mm…”
He was still staring at the dragon.
Ismael: “I would very much like to experience your swordsmanship.”
Lance: “…”
He stared at the dragon, too lazy to even respond anymore.
Misha couldn’t stand it.
Not only because the Hero was too impolite, but also because the Hero’s gaze was too direct and intense.
He actually didn’t want to talk too much, but… but the Hero looked like he liked the dragon way too much.
Misha sighed softly and asked, “Commander Ismael, I have a question.”
Ismael nodded happily: “Please go ahead.”
Misha: “In the Royal Capital’s Knights Order, is there a team composed of dragon knights?”
Ismael smiled: “Of course.”
Misha: “Are the dragons they ride warriors from the Dragon Clan who came to the Kingdom?”
“We have an agreement with the Dragon Clan,” Ismael said. “Every year, many young dragons come to the Royal Capital for training.”
Misha nodded seriously.
Ismael: “There are also some knights who travel to the Dragon Clan personally. During the journey, they might meet a dragon compatible with them.”
Misha glanced at Lance.
Lance indeed withdrew his wandering attention from the golden dragon and was listening seriously to Ismael.
Misha asked, “What about you and Lord Sylvia?”
The golden dragon blinked his beautiful golden vertical pupils at Misha.
Ismael smiled too, saying, “I am a bit different.”
Misha: “Different?”
“Dragons live much longer than humans, and my family… has been Church Knights for generations,” Ismael scratched his head a bit awkwardly, using a term easier to understand. “It’s more like an inheritance.”
Misha looked at Sylvia with some surprise.
“He was my father’s dragon, and my grandfather’s dragon,” Ismael said. “And now, he is my closest comrade-in-arms.”
Misha hadn’t thought Sylvia was so old.
Having been the dragon for three generations, Sylvia must be at least a hundred years old, right? But this age only barely counted as entering youth in the Dragon Clan. He was just older compared to humans. Compared to the novice Demon King Misha…
Everyone present was indeed just a kid.
Ismael left.
Misha stood in place, watching the golden dragon and the Knights Order disappear, then turned around to look at the Hero beside him.
Ismael’s words just now made him suddenly understand something.
The Hero was just an ordinary human, looking to be only in his twenties.
And the Hero probably thought Misha was just an ordinary Divine Envoy, looking perhaps even younger than the Hero.
That was why the Hero fell for him.
Yes, the Hero thought this was just a normal romance between peers.
He definitely didn’t expect his crush to span hundreds of years! Who knows how many generations lay between them? Misha felt “grandfather-grandson romance” wasn’t enough to describe this relationship.
As long as he told the Hero this, Misha felt the Hero might give up.
Mm, it must be so.
Misha was very certain.
“So that’s how they get their dragons,” Lance was muttering in a low voice. “I really should go to the Dragon Clan first.”
Misha: “…”
Why is he still thinking about dragons?
Lance raised his eyes slightly to look at him and said seriously, “Thank you.”
Of course he could tell that Misha’s inexplicable questioning of Ismael later was because he noticed Lance’s overly eager gaze toward the golden dragon. So Misha asked Ismael on his behalf to let him know where exactly he could get a beautiful dragon.
Misha cleared his throat vigorously, trying to get the Hero’s attention.
Lance indeed focused his attention on him, asking somewhat doubtfully, “What’s wrong?”
Misha went straight to the point: “Did you notice Sylvia’s age?”
Lance: “Hmm?”
Misha: “Dragons are very long-lived. He’s at least a hundred years old.”
Lance: “That’s true.”
Misha: “But appearance-wise, he looks really young.”
Lance: “Mm, indeed.”
Misha took a deep breath and spoke the final truth.
“Actually, my age… doesn’t quite match my appearance either,” Misha tried to be cruel and ruthless. “The age of Divine Envoys cannot be judged by appearance.”
Lance: “Ah…”
Misha carefully watched Lance’s expression.
Lance looked surprised as expected, so Misha breathed a sigh of satisfaction, feeling his method finally had some effect.
But Lance’s surprise lasted only a brief moment. He quickly recovered and asked Misha with a hint of curiosity, “Then… how old are you?”
Misha: “Uh…”
The Hero’s reaction was a bit different from what he expected.
Lance: “Not just double digits, right?”
Misha: “…”
Why did he hear a faint hint of disdain in the Hero’s tone?
Misha sneered and said loudly, “Three digits.”
Lance: “Less than five or greater than five?”
Misha: “…Close to five!”
Lance: “…”
Misha tried to deal the final blow to the Hero: “You are just a fraction of my age!”
But Lance smiled at him.
“Just a fraction?” Lance curled his lips. “Isn’t that even better?”
Misha: “But I—”
“Forty or fifty years old is different from four or five hundred years old,” Lance looked like he was relieved, whispering, “Four or five hundred years old only gets better.”
Misha: “?”
Better? What’s better?
With such a huge age gap, what’s good about it?!
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