The Secret Code of Monsters.

Chapter 1198 Ch.1197 Dragon and Gold Rush

A touching story about a couple who finally ended their suffering.

But this does not prove who really lost or who really won at the gambling table.

Fino Mondes' father's back miraculously recovered, but this did not mean that he had defeated the dragon—for a creature with a long lifespan, what it wanted was not a boring victory, like a human defeating an ant.

Little Fino did not understand what He wanted.

'interesting. ’

He said.

He wants some 'interesting' stories, anecdotes, even if it's just about a person being eaten by a cow and then pulling out a piece of human intestine, leading to a series of unbelievable detective stories—that would be interesting.

Win or lose?

Winning and losing are things that humans, who can never afford to lose, care about. Their lives are too short, and their souls are unusually arrogant.

'so…'

So he dreamt for decades.

On a drowsy afternoon, the boy, who had just woken up on the hill, returned home to find his mother weeping with joy and…

The father sobbed like a woman.

He silently withdrew from the room.

This is a good ending.

Perhaps it's dull and boring, but it's an ending that everyone is happy to see.

So, what is your wish?

'I have no more wishes, Lord Ildor Sinther—you healed my father, corrected his mind and soul with magic, and even made my mother younger… I don't know how many years younger, my lord, when I wasn't even born yet.'

The dragon yawned.

When everything was perfect, He began to notice the boredom in 'Little Fino'.

He doesn't like dealing with boring creatures.

It seems this wonderful story should come to an end.

'A wish, mortal. After you leave, I need to take a nap for another ten years or so…'

The boy really had no more wishes—he couldn't very well wish for a rare military knife he'd seen in the newspaper, could he? Or…maybe?

Out-of-print storybooks?

A good friend who will never find you a chatterbox? A fun companion?
Or is he a loyal and devoted guard? The kind who will always stand by him?
How about a clockwork soldier?
After his father miraculously recovered and "unbelievably changed" (according to the neighbors), the boy's courage and madness receded like a tide.

He could think of no more wonderful and interesting things to say to the dragon.

'...Maybe you can make the villagers healthy forever?'

'Forever? Your short lifespan of a few decades?' The dragon had already lowered its head, and the scent of spring was fading from its nostrils.

He stepped into late winter before the boy.

'...Then let them live long lives! To love freely like their fathers and mothers when they were young, to love all the good things in life...to have all the time to love...' The boy gritted his teeth and made a seemingly 'impossible' wish—but it was not difficult for the dragon.

longevity.

'If they can do the second half of what they said, I'll agree to the first half... ha... yawn...'

The dragon blew out icicles, freezing a pale mirror on the ground.

The boy's gaze sharpened slightly.

The person in the mirror was a young man with a full beard, just like his father.

A young man holding a diary.

He sighed and placed the diary in a cast-iron box.

Locked.

“My grandfather left behind writings, and of course, a large part of his diary is filled with his dissatisfaction with the villagers—he was proclaiming the Dragon God’s blessings upon mortals, but back then, who would believe the words of a ‘madman’?”

Moreover, back then, the black crows…

The flames on the dining table grew smaller and smaller.

Across from the candle, the old mayor finally let his eyes overflow with longing and memories. "...until they began to live longer and longer. Some who wouldn't have made it through the winter gradually watched the second, third, and fourth winters."

A miracle finally happened.

Theodore spoke softly, "Doesn't that mean the existence of 'dragons'?"

He remained silent for a long time, afraid of interrupting the old town mayor's story.

The story of a scoundrel who eventually becomes a human being.

Let alone dragons, anyone would enjoy such a story—of course, whether the listener likes it or not is usually not something a drunken storyteller should consider, unless it's a novelist putting pen to paper.

These poor wretches racked their brains, desperately trying to squeeze their own flesh and blood into thin, crisp biscuits and give them to the person who chewed them, hoping to hear a "So crispy!"

Theodore shook his head inwardly.

Poor thing.

“Indeed…” the old mayor sighed, “Longevity, this should have proven the existence of the ‘dragon’…”

However, most things deteriorate over time.

Faith is no exception.

Dragon.

still…

The father of all things?

What is a dragon like? How many pastors and believers does it have? Does it teach people to dress smartly and gather in a luxurious sanctuary, filled with the aroma of champagne and fresh fruit, on a certain day of the week, to compare their wives, husbands, children, or businesses?
What is a dragon?
What a dragon is has become increasingly obscure over time—that's precisely how legends have taken shape.

But this also has an advantage.

“It prevented us from being…” the old mayor muttered, “from being targeted by that flock of black crows.”

Rupert turned his head away and quietly dabbed his moist eyes with his fingertip. When the conversation fell silent, she asked softly:

"...So, where did Ildoss's 'freedom' and 'laziness' come from?"

This is also Harida's question.

“I guess it has something to do with the very first generation,” Roland said, resting his chin on his hand, his two bright amber gems shimmering in the candlelight. “They were skeptical, but they did believe some of what Fino Mondes said. After all, Gael Mondes really stood up, didn’t she? Can a gambler’s transformation be attributed to the Church’s Book of Eden?”

The mayor glanced at Roland in surprise and nodded.

“You are absolutely right, sir. At first, it was just word of mouth, or some old people quietly altered the life trajectories of their descendants—the ‘unconventional’ ones left Ildossinser, while the conformists came here.”

"Gradually... no one had to tell anyone anymore; everyone just did it."

This is a simple question.

Just as some places only allow eating snake meat, or forbid joking (Roland considered that absolutely hellish). When a wave forms, those who cannot adapt to its turbulence will naturally leave—similarly, it will also attract adventurous waves.

The same was true of Ildossus later on.

It constantly attracts and influences those who come here, while simultaneously repelling those who don't fit in into a more 'real' world.

This place is like a giant plague nest.

The animals inside, however, did not believe they were infected with the plague.

in turn.

They found the outsiders strange.

—And so, with the passing of that first generation, some secrets were never known again.

It became a 'legend'.

of course.

Apart from the aged-looking middle-aged man in front of Roland.

“Personally, I’m delighted to hear such an interesting and moving story—it’s perhaps more important than most…” Roland paused slightly, “but I must spoil the mood and get back to our previous topic, Mr. Mondes, because some things are more important than an interesting story…”

The mayor knew what Roland wanted to ask.

He glanced at his daughter sitting at the end of the table, staring at her deep golden amber eyes for so long that he almost couldn't help but urge her on.

"I've always believed everything I read in that diary, sir, madam. A while ago, a group of 'gold prospectors' arrived, and everything changed..."

(End of this chapter)