Chapter 14: Unexpected Visitors
Silence filled the Moonlit Tea Room.
Near the doorway, the servant stood with her head lowered, her fingers trembling slightly.
"A... dragon?" Fenrir repeated.
"Y-Yes, Young Master."
Silence returned.
Fenrir didn't know much about the hidden world yet, but judging from everyone's expressions, something big was happening.
He looked at Sebastian.
"Is that... bad?"
The old butler slowly turned toward him.
"Bad?"
He looked as though he had suddenly aged ten years.
"Young Master Fenrir, dragons do not simply visit people."
"...Oh."
"They especially do not visit complete strangers."
"...Oh."
"And they most certainly do not wait outside politely asking for an audience."
"...That sounds serious."
"It is."
The Master, however, appeared thoughtful.
A dragon.
Interesting.
Dragons rarely involved themselves in matters outside their own affairs. They were proud, ancient creatures who preferred isolation to unnecessary interaction.
For one to personally come here...
That was unusual.
Very unusual.
Beside Fenrir, Lady Seraphina's expression had grown slightly colder.
A dragon had come to see him?
For some reason, she didn't like that thought.
Not one bit.
The Master finally looked toward the servant.
"How many guests are there?"
"Five, Master."
"And they all wish to meet him?"
"Yes."
The old man sighed.
"Bring them in."
The servant bowed.
"As you wish."
She quickly left.
An awkward silence settled over the room.
Fenrir looked around.
"Am I missing something?"
"Quite a lot," Sebastian replied.
"Can someone explain?"
The Master smiled.
"You'll understand soon enough."
Fenrir's eye twitched.
He was starting to hate that sentence.
A few moments later—
The doors opened.
The first guest entered.
He was a tall man dressed in a black suit.
He possessed pale skin, crimson eyes, and an elegant aura that immediately marked him as a vampire.
His gaze swept across the room before stopping on Fenrir.
A flicker of surprise appeared in his eyes.
Then he smiled.
He bowed.
"I greet the Young Sovereign."
Fenrir blinked.
"...Hello?"
Before he could say anything else, another figure entered.
She was a beautiful woman with long white hair and golden eyes.
Two fox ears rested atop her head, and behind her swayed nine fluffy tails.
A fox spirit.
The moment she saw Fenrir, she froze.
Her eyes widened.
"So the rumors were true…"
Then she lowered her head.
"I greet the Young Sovereign."
Fenrir slowly turned toward the Master.
The old man calmly sipped his tea.
Completely unhelpful.
Then came three more figures.
Three dwarves.
All of them looked ancient.
Long beards.
Broad shoulders.
Powerful builds.
The moment they saw Fenrir—
They stopped.
Then—
THUD!
All three dropped onto one knee.
"We greet the Young Sovereign!"
Fenrir nearly jumped from his seat.
"What is happening?!"
No one answered.
Then—
The atmosphere changed.
A heavy pressure suddenly filled the room.
Another figure entered.
She was breathtakingly beautiful.
Long crimson hair flowed down her back like liquid fire.
Amber eyes glowed like molten gold.
Two small, curved horns peeked from her hair.
She wore a simple red dress.
Yet the moment she stepped into the room, the temperature seemed to change.
Even the air itself felt heavier.
Instinct screamed at Fenrir.
This woman...
She was dangerous.
Far more dangerous than anyone else who had entered.
She stopped.
Her amber eyes settled upon him.
Silence.
Then—
She smiled.
A warm, beautiful smile.
And bowed.
"I greet the Young Sovereign."
Dead silence.
Even Fenrir could feel the tension.
The Master slowly placed his teacup on the table.
"So."
His silver eyes watched her calmly.
"The Dragon Clan has finally made its move."
The woman smiled softly.
"I merely came to confirm a rumor."
"And?"
Her gaze returned to Fenrir.
"It appears the rumors were true."
Fenrir raised his hand.
"Can someone please explain what exactly is going on?"
The dragon woman blinked.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"You know absolutely nothing?"
"Pretty much."
She stared at him.
Then—
She laughed.
A soft, melodic laugh.
"Interesting."
Very interesting.
A supposed Sovereign who knew absolutely nothing.
Fate truly had a strange sense of humor.
She slowly approached him.
Then stopped directly in front of him.
Their eyes met.
For a brief moment—
She frowned.
She thought she had sensed something.
A presence.
Ancient.
Vast.
Then it vanished.
As though it had never existed.
A shiver ran down her spine.
Impossible.
Even she couldn't explain why her instincts had reacted so strongly.
She unconsciously took a small step backward.
Nobody noticed.
Nobody except the Master.
His silver eyes narrowed slightly.
Did she sense something?
Interesting.
Very interesting.
Meanwhile, Fenrir looked completely confused.
"Did I say something wrong?"
The dragon woman stared at him for several seconds.
Then her smile returned.
"No."
She sat down gracefully.
"You are simply... full of surprises."
Fenrir had absolutely no idea what that meant.
Lately, people kept saying strange things around him.
The Master suddenly spoke.
"Since our guests have arrived, introductions are in order."
Everyone looked toward him.
He gestured toward the vampire.
"This gentleman is Lord Adrian Nightshade."
The vampire bowed elegantly.
"A representative of the Night Court."
Adrian smiled at Fenrir.
"It is a pleasure to meet you."
The Master then looked toward the fox spirit.
"This young lady is Lady Yuna."
The fox spirit smiled.
"An envoy of the Moon Fox Clan."
She bowed.
"I've wanted to meet you."
Fenrir wasn't sure how to respond to that.
The old man then gestured toward the dwarves.
"These three are master smiths from the Ironforge Clan."
The oldest stepped forward.
"I am Borin Ironforge."
The second nodded.
"Durin Ironforge."
The third smiled.
"And I am Thrain Ironforge."
Fenrir blinked.
"...Your parents weren't very creative, were they?"
Silence.
The three dwarves looked deeply offended.
A snort escaped Seraphina.
Even the Master coughed.
"Moving on."
Finally, he looked toward the dragon woman.
"This young lady is Elena Drakaris."
She inclined her head.
"One of the remaining members of the Dragon Clan."
Silence followed.
Even speaking those words carried weight.
Dragons were incredibly rare.
Their scales, blood, bones, and hearts were treasures beyond imagination, capable of creating legendary artifacts, medicines, and weapons.
For thousands of years, countless races had hunted them out of greed and ambition.
That was one of the reasons their numbers had become so few.
Yet despite their declining population—
No one dared underestimate them.
They remained one of the most dangerous races in existence.
Their natural affinity for draconic runes and the ancient draconic language allowed some dragons to perform feats that other races required centuries to achieve.
A talented dragon could even influence reality itself on a small scale from birth.
Only a few possessed such gifts.
But those who did...
Were terrifying.
Elena looked back at Fenrir.
Her smile deepened.
"You are far more interesting than I expected."
Fenrir sighed.
That sentence again.
Deep within his soul—
Something ancient stirred.
Then became silent once more.
Outside the Moonlit Tea Room—
The hidden world had already begun to move.