Chapter 67: The Frost Dragon King
Sebas reached into his coat and produced a book.
Lucian's gaze landed on the cover, and his pupils contracted slightly.
The Aindra Travelogue.
He knew that binding. He knew that typeface. He knew the silhouette of distant mountains on the cover. He knew this book better than almost anything he owned.
Because he had written it himself.
It was the product of wrapping his past life's ideas in the packaging of travel memoir, carefully, layer by careful layer. The mountains on the cover had been sketched from his own draft.
The corners of the spine were slightly curved. The pages showed the worn quality of something that had been read through more than once. This was not a prop someone had grabbed to fill a scene.
"My lady came across Mr. Lucian's work after arriving in the kingdom." Sebas's voice was composed and respectful, both hands holding the book upright, with the care of someone presenting a valued piece of a collection. "She read it with great interest."
Lucian's thoughts stopped for half a second.
Solution?
Read his book?
That Nazarick battle maid, the malevolent creature with a karma rating of negative four hundred, had been reading The Aindra Travelogue.
He tried to construct the image.
Solution at a window. Sunlight falling across those fine features. Slender fingers turning a page. Those eyes moving steadily over line after line of text. Pausing at something that struck her as insightful. Closing the book and gazing thoughtfully into the middle distance.
The image collapsed like a soap bubble. His mind simply could not maintain it.
No.
Lucian shook his head firmly, internally.
That slime was not a reader. Solution Epsilon's interest in humans almost certainly extended no further than the sounds they made at the end, and the sensation of flesh dissolving slowly inside her. A book written by a human would probably register to her roughly the same as something that had been left on the prey.
This was Sebas looking for a way into the topic.
The entire internal analysis completed in roughly the time it took to blink. His expression didn't change. He let his eyes widen just slightly, with the right measure of surprise and modesty.
"Miss Solution has read my book? I'm genuinely... I don't quite know what to say. That's far more than I deserve."
Sebas gave a slight nod and continued. "After reading your work, my lady found herself very curious about the dragons Mr. Lucian mentions in his travels."
Lucian's heart skipped half a beat.
"Unfortunately, my own knowledge on the subject is quite limited."
A faint note of apology entered Sebas's voice. Those pale grey eyes dropped slightly, as though he were genuinely embarrassed by the gap in his knowledge.
"I wonder if Mr. Lucian might be able to walk me through what he knows, so I can satisfy my lady's curiosity."
The sitting room was quiet for a moment.
Outside, the rain continued. Water traced winding paths down the windowpane and smeared the street beyond into soft, indistinct shapes.
The rain filled the silence, fine and steady, like something gently tapping at the edges of a conversation, nudging it forward.
Lucian held his modest expression, but deep behind it his thoughts were moving fast.
Good.
No changes to the plan.
He had been close to abandoning the original approach entirely. He still didn't know why Ainz's attention had initially landed on Martial Arts rather than the fragment, but if Nazarick was back to asking about dragons, that could only mean one thing.
The True Dragon King armor fragment had done exactly what it was placed there to do.
The frame job had held.
The internal elation was considerable. His face showed a small, careful hesitation.
There was a principle at work here, one Lucian understood well: intelligence that comes too easily is intelligence that gets questioned. He needed to play this out properly.
He needed to give Sebas something to work for.
At the same time, he needed to be careful about calibration. If Nazarick decided Sebas was too soft a route and switched to harder methods, that would be a different kind of problem.
"If it would help, I could put together a summary of what circulates in the kingdom about dragons." Lucian said it easily, the tone of someone helping a friend with something that required no particular effort.
Sebas's brow moved slightly.
"What circulates." He repeated the word, and something passed through those pale grey eyes. "That is to say, Mr. Lucian has access to information about dragons that doesn't circulate?"
A note of urgency had entered Sebas's voice.
Very faint. Undetectable to most people. But Lucian had been waiting for exactly this.
He let a brief silence pass. His brow furrowed slightly. His lips pressed together, as though he were working through a difficult decision.
"There is something, yes." His voice had a note of reluctance in it. "But..."
He left it there.
Outside, the rain intensified. Water struck the glass in a quickening rhythm, as though the weather itself were pressing the conversation to continue.
Sebas waited. He simply sat where he was, composed and patient, giving the silence all the time it needed.
Lucian finally spoke.
"Mr. Sebas may not be aware." His voice had slowed, taking on a frankness that suggested genuine confidence. "Straightforwardly speaking, if it's general dragon intelligence you need, I can provide that right now."
He paused, as though choosing his next words carefully.
"For instance: the king of the frost dragon clan in the Azerlisia Mountains. I can give you that information here and now. I would think it would be more than enough to satisfy Miss Solution's curiosity."
Something lit in Sebas's gaze.
Lucian noted it and continued.
"The only thing I would mention is that..." A slight hesitation entered his voice. "The frost dragon king is formidable in its own right, but compared to the presence Mr. Sebas gives off, I suspect it would fall somewhat short."
And with that, he pushed the White Dragon King forward onto the board without a moment of regret.
The king of the frost dragon clan, the dragon that had claimed the old dwarven royal city in the Azerlisia Mountains as its own. Olsdek Heliriael. Having grown to the rank of Ancient Dragon, Level 1, it was also known by the title of White Dragon King.
It had accumulated wealth beyond counting and considered itself the absolute sovereign of the Azerlisia range.
In Lucian's estimation, it was bait.
By disclosing the frost dragon king's information now, he was doing two things at once: establishing the weight of what he held, and providing a foundation of verifiable truth for whatever came next. Nazarick would need only a basic check to confirm that the White Dragon King's location, habits, and estimated strength were all exactly as described.
And that confirmation would become the strongest possible endorsement for the information that followed.
You needed enough weight in the bait to attract the right-sized fish. Even if the bait itself was not entirely what it appeared to be.
Of course, if Ainz happened to feel like making a trip out to the Azerlisia range and dealing with the White Dragon King in person...
Lucian could only offer a silent, private apology in that direction.
That arrogant, hoarding dragon would never know it had been nothing more than a piece on a board, placed to be spent.
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