Moonrithyll gazed into the distance, her eyes sweeping over the village with undisguised disgust.
Such peace should never have belonged to those people.
"The dungeon is merely where they imprison 'sinners.' Strictly speaking, this is where the jars are made."
Moonrithyll continued explaining, her gaze growing deeper.
"See the ones carrying knives? They chop the sinners into minced meat."
"And the ones with whips are responsible for preparing the offerings that purify the sinners."
Those offerings, to put it plainly, were Numen. In the eyes of the Hornsent, the Numen were kind, and that kindness could cleanse sin.
To the Hornsent, the Numen were indispensable tools for making jars. But they were still nothing more than tools.
As objects, the lives of the Numen were precious. Yet breaking those objects was also inevitable, because only then could their value be brought out.
What an object ought to possess most of all was value.
At that moment, Trina felt the cruelty and helplessness of this world more deeply than ever.
"This village is actually right behind your lines, and you've just left it here all this time?"
Trina's eyes widened as she stared in disbelief at the enormous jars piled high throughout the village.
"To be precise, this village lies between the territory of the Flying Dragons and the Nox. The area under Messmer's control only extends as far as these ruins."
As Moonrithyll spoke, she pointed toward the broken, ruined surroundings. Collapsed houses and twisted stone pillars stood all around them.
"And there's a Cursed Swordsman in this village. A practitioner who failed to become a god. In other words, an expert."
"We once sent a small squad here, but they were wiped out to the last man, so we left them alone for the time being."
Moonrithyll said, "By the way, do you know the origin legend of the Horned Warriors?"
Trina paused slightly, then nodded thoughtfully.
"You mean the story where the Divine Bird Warriors saw the Divine Beasts in the sky?"
"Exactly. Then you should also know that these people have a strange longing and reverence for life in the heavens."
Moonrithyll shrugged, a faint trace of disdain appearing on her face.
So they could fly. What was so impressive about that? Her queen could turn into the moon. Did she go around showing off about it?
Then she curled her lip and continued,
"These fools are ignorant, and they don't understand the relationship between Flying Dragons and Ancient Dragons, so they get along rather well with Flying Dragons."
In simple terms, these barbarians made themselves seem humble and insignificant before the Flying Dragons.
Through their worship, the Flying Dragons gradually regained the sense of superiority they had once held as rulers, and so they were willing to grant them a little mercy.
It was like the tour guide in The Mummy with his flexible faiths. You act as my lackey, and I give you gold.
The Hornsent let the Flying Dragons become "rulers" again, and the "gold" was the protection the Flying Dragons provided.
From the perspective of their species, Flying Dragons were nothing special. But who could blame them, when one of their kind had produced a savage dragon bold enough to challenge Placidusax for the throne?
The existence of that "Mad Dragon" had greatly raised the status and influence of Flying Dragons in the Land of Shadow.
In the Lands Between, they kept their heads down. But once they came to this little place called the Land of Shadow, they struck out with full force, seeing everyone else as ants crawling on the ground.
"Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. The undisputed Lord among the Flying Dragons, the 'Mad Dragon' Bayle, is on Jagged Peak!"
Moonrithyll's expression turned solemn. Her voice seemed to carry an invisible pressure, making the soldiers around them tense at once.
"This Mad Dragon is no ordinary Flying Dragon. It once tore two heads from the Ancient Dragon King by force!"
Moonrithyll paused briefly, her gaze sweeping over everyone's faces before she continued,
"So don't underestimate it just because it's a Flying Dragon. Countless dragon-slaying warriors have challenged that Lord of Flying Dragons."
"In the end, all they left behind were hills of bones. These days, it's hard to find a proper dragon slayer anywhere in the Land of Shadow."
Nolan, standing nearby, remained silent. Then the corners of his mouth lifted slightly, forming the faintest hint of a smile.
He murmured softly, "Lord..."
The simple word carried no reverence for the Mad Dragon Bayle. Instead, there was a faint, rising excitement hidden within it.
Beside him, Trina could not help shivering. She instinctively hugged her Lord tighter and said softly, "That feels so scary."
"If that Mad Dragon still hasn't abandoned its ambition to become Lord, then I'll be the one to break it," Nolan said plainly.
Hearing this, Moonrithyll could not help turning her head and studying the young man before her with a strange look.
To be honest, even now, she still had no idea just how strong this young man truly was. She only knew that he was very, very strong.
Since he had already been recognized by the princess, the Empyrean, and the goddess together as a candidate for Lord, then he must surely possess the power to contend for the throne.
In that case, the confidence he showed was only natural.
What Lord would ever think himself inferior to another? If he lost in spirit before the battle even began, then what would be the point of fighting?
"Aren't you afraid of running into a Flying Dragon on the way to Bonny Village?"
Trina looked thoughtfully up at the sky. The Lord of Flying Dragons sounded dangerous, and she did not particularly want Nolan taking that risk.
After all, Bayle's opponent, the Ancient Dragon King Placidusax, was far too famous. He had once been Elden Lord.
Back when Godfrey led his armies across the Lands Between, he had never crossed blades with Placidusax.
Because of that, many people had criticized his eventual rise to Lord, and some even believed he was unworthy of his station in martial virtue.
"Bayle has always remained hidden on Jagged Peak and has never taken even half a step outside. As for the other Flying Dragons, there's no need to worry about them."
Moonrithyll waved her hand dismissively as she explained.
The smaller Flying Dragons could not even withstand the knights' throwing spears.
And among the Flying Dragons of the Land of Shadow, the only truly famous one was Bayle.
As they spoke, Moonrithyll, who had been walking in front, stopped and turned slightly, tilting her head in indication.
While everyone had been talking, Moonrithyll suddenly came to a halt.
She turned her body a little, tilted her head playfully, and raised a hand to signal them.
Nolan and Trina, who were following behind her, both turned to look.
At some point, the soldiers surrounding them had already taken out thick, sturdy ropes.
From the look of it, these soldiers clearly had no intention of descending through the underground passage behind them.
"Do you need tools to help you down too?"
Moonrithyll teased. The cliff was less than a hundred meters high. For a champion like her, jumping down from this height was nothing.
"No need. Actually, I should be asking you. Do you need help?"
Nolan shook his head and walked to the front.