As I neared the completion of my incantation, a hazy image began to form in my mind. I could see Steel’s dragon form lying amidst a pile of treasure...

Meanwhile, after a good night's sleep at the kingdom's official inn, Barok woke up, ready to enjoy a hearty breakfast. Although being a bard could be tough, and the pay wasn’t great (otherwise, he wouldn’t have needed to steal a dragon’s coin), bards could stay at the kingdom’s inns for free, along with enjoying complimentary meals.

This village was much larger than the one Barok had visited before. It was only a day’s journey from a major town with a river port, so many merchants stopped here to rest, contributing to the village’s prosperity. Unlike most villages that depended on farming, this one thrived on trade.

The inn’s dining hall was bustling with people, and as soon as Barok entered, someone greeted him. “Hey, bard, what’s your name? Got any news?”

“Good sir,” Barok replied with his usual politeness, “my name is of little consequence, but you can call me Barok. I do have some news to share, but I’ll first report it to the village’s bishop and mayor. Later, it will be posted on the notice board at the village entrance. Or, you could hear me sing about it at the church between 3 and 4 p.m.”

One of Barok’s main duties was to spread news. Not only did he need to relay the kingdom’s decrees, but he also gathered information as he traveled. Upon returning to the capital, he would report to the Bard’s Guild and turn important news into songs to spread across the land.

The village Barok had previously visited, where Steel had destroyed the homes after the treasure theft, was a tiny one, with just over a hundred villagers and a few dozen homes. Though it was tragic that the village had been destroyed by an enraged dragon, the story could serve as a warning to others. In this relatively civilized kingdom, spreading such a cautionary tale was part of a bard’s duty.

“Alright, I’ll catch your performance this afternoon,” the man replied, losing interest.

Barok then approached the counter and said to the innkeeper, “One breakfast, please. Put it on the Bard’s Guild tab.”

Though the inn was officially affiliated with the kingdom, it was privately run by a man named Spark. Spark not only managed the inn but also acted as the bookkeeper and occasionally helped out as a server when things got busy.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Spark responded politely, “Please show me your guild card again, Mr. Barok.”

The previous night, when Barok had arrived near midnight, Spark had checked him in, so he knew Barok’s identity. But whenever a member of the Bard’s Guild charged a meal, they needed to present their guild card for proper bookkeeping. Once a month, the guild sent someone to settle the accounts with inns across the kingdom, so proper records were crucial.

Barok pulled a small wooden plaque from his bag, which had a silver badge attached to it. Below the badge was a unique number. This wasn’t just proof of his identity as a bard; it also indicated his rank. The lowest rank used an iron badge, while the highest were gold with gems. Barok’s silver badge showed he was a seasoned bard with notable achievements.

After registering the charge, Spark said, “Please take a seat, Mr. Barok. Your breakfast will be served shortly.”

Barok nodded, found an empty table, and sat down to wait for his meal. Before long, his breakfast was brought to him, and he began to eat.

Just as he was halfway through his meal, the lively dining hall suddenly fell silent. At the entrance stood a middle-aged man in a black robe, wearing a bishop’s hat. He was the village’s bishop, second only to the mayor in authority.

“Bishop...” the diners all stood up, showing their respect.

The bishop barely acknowledged them, giving only a slight nod before walking straight to the counter, where he asked Spark, “Did a bard from the kingdom stay here last night?”

After greeting the bishop, Spark quickly pointed to Barok. “He’s right there, eating his breakfast.”

The bishop looked over at Barok. Seeing that everyone had stood up to greet the bishop, Barok also stood beside his table. When he realized the bishop and Spark were pointing at him, he gave a polite bow to the bishop.

The bishop strode quickly over to Barok, gesturing for him not to stand on ceremony and sat directly across from him. He asked, "Are you the kingdom's bard? What's your name? I am Bishop Ken of this village."

Barok, with a respectful expression, replied, "Yes, honorable Bishop, you may call me Barok."

The bishop, his face serious, continued, "Which direction did you come from? The capital?"

"Indeed."

"Did you pass by a small village not far from here?"

"Yes."

"What happened to that village?" Upon hearing that Barok had passed through the village, the bishop suddenly seemed tense.

"...There are too many ears here. Could we discuss it somewhere more private?" Barok, noticing the bishop's reaction, thought to himself that the village might have some deep connection to him.

The bishop nodded and said, "Finish your meal first. I'll be at the church. Come find me there when you're done."

"As you wish, Bishop Ken." Barok bowed again, and the bishop rose and left.

---

Back in the cave.

The incantation lasted a full fifteen minutes. Just memorizing such a long spell took immense effort, and reciting it flawlessly was no easy task. However, as the most powerful sorcerer on the continent of Oran, this was still within my ability.

As I finished the spell, the scene in my mind grew clearer, as if it were happening right before my eyes. I saw Steel in his dragon form, fast asleep in front of me, lying amidst a pile of treasure with scattered coins covering his body like golden armor. Though his breathing was slow, his body subtly rose and fell with each breath.

The scene was utterly still, save for the sound of Steel's breathing. And that was as it should be—no one dared disturb a dragon during its slumber. Any animal would have sensed his presence and kept well away from the cave.

Then suddenly, I heard footsteps. Someone seemed to be approaching the cave entrance. I shifted my perspective toward the entrance, and just as I was about to see who it was, the scene abruptly cut off, turning into static.

Startled, I opened my eyes, my mind racing in confusion. What just happened? Did the retrocognition spell fail? How could that be?

(To be continued...)