Dragon of the Fantasy World - Legend of Creating Dragons 8 - Tatsuhiko Tanaka's Action Novel

Author: Yoshiaki Tanaka
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-11-01
Features: Chapter 1: Farewell, Summer Light
On October 1st in northern England, golden autumn light bathes the land. Vaporized crystals descend silently onto the earth, while the leaves of plants play yellow, red, and deep brown notes as they begin to quietly slide into the gray scale of winter. The temperature here is about six degrees Celsius lower than in Tokyo, Japan, and the sun doesn't set until nine o'clock at night. The long afternoons pass slowly in dry, cool air. The clouds in the sky change color and shape instantly, as if playing with the wind. In this northern island country, winter brings only six hours of daylight each day, and the preceding seasons are filled with excitement completely different from spring. There is no such thing as "long, scorching summers" in this country. In terms of latitude, London is about 900 kilometers north of Sapporo, Japan. From London, traveling northwest about 400 kilometers, between the lake areas and the hill of Croswell, lies the Dranforde Manor. The manor spans a hill about three kilometers in diameter, with an old mansion built in the early 18th century and a new one from the mid-20th century standing shoulder to shoulder, separated by low rows of. The south-facing lawn gradually slopes downward, connecting to a pond about 200 meters in diameter.
A young man named Lamb Clark Milon (abbreviated as L.C.M.) is walking on the lawn. Though dressed in formal attire, his hair is messy, and the breath he exhales is filled with the smell of alcohol. That day, he had just sworn to his new wife to love each other forever.
"Truly a peaceful scene. When the world perishes, this place will probably still maintain such a peaceful scene and take its last breath." His tone was sarcastic yet devoid of passion. Lamb Clark murmured in an abnormal voice and thened his mouth corner again.
"The more those who can only dream of marriage envy it, the more they desire it. Alas, power, wealth, and fame are all the same." He stopped walking and looked around. From the lawn to the sunken courtyard, about eighty or more white, block-like tables were arranged, with chairs placed around them, and a grand garden party was in full swing. The chess pieces scattered on the green chessboard were chatting and laughing, their voices carried away by the wind. A group of aristocratic ladies—yes, that's not an exaggeration. Two thousand six hundred and sixty elites from forty countries attended Lamb Clark's wedding. To accommodate them, all eighteen hotels in the lake area were booked. Politicians, financiers, diplomats, lawyers, journalists, painters, writers, poets, screenwriters, actors, singers, composers—they all turned a blind eye to the turmoil brewing around the world and gathered here to celebrate. Of course, there were also those who drove their own helicopters from distant Los Angeles across the Atlantic to Manchester.
The minister officiating the wedding was also invited from London. In London, the extreme right-wing group's xenophobia was escalating in fierce conflicts with immigrants from various Asian and African countries, and the Home Secretary had already applied to the Prime Minister for a declaration of a state of emergency. However, the repercussions of that situation had not yet reached Dranforde Manor.
Lamb Clark held a glass of Scottish whiskey, wandering...