*creak*

A random executive whose name I can't remember is pestering me.

"Raiz, are you sure we shouldn't evacuate?"

*creak*

"Haah. How do you propose we escape from a dragon?"

"It can't catch all of us, right?"

I roll my eyes.

*creak*

"We don't know that. All we know is, that dragon is strong enough to make half the—"

*creak*

"— executive team piss their pants simply by roaring. Yourself included, by the way."

*creak*

I point down at his wet pants before continuing.

"Do you want to make it angry by running off?"

*creak*

Maro concurs.

"I think Raiz has it right. You heard the most recent report, didn't you? It landed quietly, then—"

*creak*

"— kicked the railing off the balcony. It knows we're here. It's letting us know what'll happen if we don't stay here."

*creak*

Oh, that's a good point. I add to his thoughts.

"Exactly. Plus, it carried Yenim instead of eating her. If she's dead, it may intend on using her as a warning."

I hope those spells weren't a unique form of magic torture. The updated report said her screaming was... Eugh.

*creeeeeak*

The executive speaks in a juddering tone; he points at the ceiling while hunched over.

"But it's. Right. Up. Staiiiirs."

I'm growing annoyed with this so-called 'executive.' What kind of stupid counter was that? We all know it's upstairs.

*creak*

"Listen, it could've just broken that large window there—"

I point to the already very broken window. Oops.

*creak*

"— and then flooded the room with flame breath. It didn't, so let's handle this like mature adults, hmm?"

#THUD#

I startle at the loud sound, then ask for an update.

"Wha—? Recon, what's it doing now?"

I hear a raspy voice coming from another corner of the room.

"Reporting, Raiz. It kicked the bedroom's wall down and has entered the main hall. It's moving toward the stairway."

I look over. That guy's our Recon Team leader. I nod at him.

*creak*

Which means it's coming down here. It didn't enter from the ground floor, but the penthouse, as one would expect from a dragon. They always want to appear dominant.

"Has your team inspected the guard captain?"

*creak*

The man says something into a small blue inscription floating over his hand. Then, he waits.

*THRAK*

I presume that's the dragon jumping over the stairs and landing on the polished tile floor. Which, by the sound, it crushed.

So it's a big one. Ugh. As if a dragon possessing magic weren't already bad enough.

*thok*

Finally, the Recon Team leader looks back to me.

"Her armor is mangled and dented from our attacks. Her chestplate has a huge mark where the dragon gripped it to carry her. We believe—"

*thok*

"— it crushed the metal to cause that indent. However, she's alive and unconscious on the balcony. Should we finish her?"

*thok*

This dragon crushed plate armor so easily? Plus, she lived? What in the world are we dealing with?

"No. It rescued her for some reason; we need to see how this plays out. Be ready to use her as a hostage, but don't bank—"

*crrak*

"— on that. Threats may be viewed as an impingement upon its pride. If that happens, well. You know how dragons are."

*creak*

The man's face blanches; he swiftly and loudly yells 'NO' into the blue inscription. Then, he launches into a rapid-fire explanation. I can't hear him, but his actions are fairly self-evident.

*creak*

He finally drops his hand and looks back at me.

"Yessir. Your orders have been relayed."

"Raiz."

*creak*

"Pardon?"

"I don't do stuffy things like 'sir.' I'm Raiz and will remain Raiz once we've secured this city."

*creak*

"Ah, yes. Raiz."

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

I hear a sound like scratching come from the large doors which lead out into the main hallway.

*skerrxh*

I shift my attention to the doors. The other executives do, as well.

The door opens. One side.

*krrt*

Then the other.

*kreet*

I see only its huge legs and tail.

image [https://timjames.net/data/acd/images/019.png]

Damn, it's THAT big? Worse, I don't see a single scratch, despite it killing over three dozen trained fighters. They should've at least got its legs a few times.

I look closer at its neon orange scales. Never mind a scratch; they're not even scuffed.

My gaze shifts down.

Hmm. This thing's toes are thicker than my arm. I suppose its scales are stronger than normal.

It bends over, barely fits its shoulders through the large door frame, quietly edges forward, then stands tall inside the room. I'm left stunned as it did all of this without so much as denting the door frame.

It has extreme physical prowess. Wonderful. As if being a giant, heavily-armored spellslinger wasn't good enough.

Its claws grind on the floor a bit as it adjusts its body into a more looming pose.

*krrrt-kht*

We all look up at its oversized face, which is now perfectly positioned to stare down at us.

Good gods. What IS this thing?

It easily towers over everyone at a height of 5 or 6 meters. It's forced to kneel slightly even within the vaulted ceilings of our meeting room, so I can't exactly gauge its full height. Heck, I didn't think dragons could be this large.

It mostly possesses neon orange scales, and the fact they're orange is unusual enough, but... It has spots all over its body which are nothing but an empty black. They seem to suck away the world itself from my vision. It also has thick, powerful muscles; large even by a dragon's standards.

Dragon armor and spikes tend to concentrate around a dragon's chest and back like laminar plate armor, with spikes running down its arms and legs when they get older. This dragon's lacking spikes on its arms and legs, which doesn't make any sense unless it's young. Could such a huge dragon be... Young?

Yet, its armor also covers many surfaces that would otherwise only be covered in slightly thicker scales. Notably, its joints, neck, and... Well, this thing has armor in all the normal places too, but they're not just flat armored plates. Instead, it seems spikes are growing from between each of these armor layers. Though... It's somewhat hard to see due to all the empty blackness. That could be a trick of the light.

I notice that it has many smaller spikes on its tail, too. I've never seen that before.

Moreover, the largest row of spikes that runs from a dragon's head down to the tip of its tail are quite unusual. They're bigger, sharper, and more imposing than those found on a normal dragon. They curve downward like the teeth of a vicious carnivorous beast. They're more like tearing weapons than the usual dragon's defensive adornments.

Which is to say nothing of its enormous horns.

Its horns somehow drive fear into my body merely from my observations of their slightly serrated, blade-like shape. Dragon horns are always thin and sharp like a sword— but these somehow make 'terror' into an art form.

As if all that wasn't bad enough, its eyes possess blazing red irises and black slit-shaped pupils. They seem like two horrible suns trying to scorch away my mind.

Can this still be considered a dragon? I feel like I'm looking at an unsheathed weapon rather than a living creature.

Instead of continuing to examine the horrific monster, I turn my gaze back to my executive table.

Several executives, at least the ones not still passed out, have hidden their heads under their hands. I make a mental note that these may require cleanup, later.

We don't need people so weak-minded.

I look back at the... Dragon.

It's staring directly down at me. Ah! Now I see why they were cowering. No, scratch my earlier comment. I too want to hide.

However— I must greet it. I speak in a disarming tone.

"Hello, dragon. What can we do for you?"

It replies in an utterly terrifying voice.

"Pure Evil."

What? It doesn't look like a dragon, it doesn't act like a dragon, it doesn't sound like a dragon.

And... Did it just ask us to do 'pure evil' for it?

"I'm sorry, dragon. I don't understand?"

"My name, human. It's Pure Evil."

Ignoring the fact it sounds like it's claiming its name is too evil to be spoken aloud...

"Pure Evil, then. What can we do for you?"

It nods slightly.

Wait, is that actually its name? I'd say 'what the hell,' but that sort of exclamation might be misconstrued as a compliment. No, it probably would be. Should I? That seems risky.

It speaks before I can decide.

"I'd like for you all to take the guard captain as my surrogate. Aside from that, I have no other demands at the moment."

Hah?!

I barely manage to keep my face neutral, despite my immense surprise.

A surrogate, huh? It wants us to treat the guard captain with the same fear and respect we would give to itself. It's establishing a power dynamic, placing a pawn, then acting disinterested. These are some high-level political games. This dragon isn't just smart— it's scary smart. I'll bet most of our executives aren't aware of its intentions, being rather distracted by its terrifying visage.

I look over at Leario, who's currently eyeing me.

He taps the side of his white hat with his index finger. Yep, we're in agreement; this dragon is SHARP. I barely nod back.

I then look around the table... Until my gaze falls onto Maro. He has a nasty scowl on his face. Does he hate the guard captain so much that he'd scowl at this beast of a dragon? I look back up at the dragon.

It's currently looking at Maro.

Ah, shit.

The dragon raises its long arm and points at him.

"I've changed my mind. Dispose of that man."

It lowers its arm but glances around.

Maro complains like a petulant child with his hand caught in the candy jar.

"What? Why? What did I do?"

The dragon looks at him without fully turning its head.

"You killed your partners and fled while your captain was under attack. You, you are the vice-captain, yes?"

I again barely manage to not show my surprise.

How does it know Maro's RANK? Did we—

Maro swiftly cuts off my thoughts.

"You might not know, but that is the nature of war, Pure Evil."

The dragon squints ever so slightly and speaks with a tinge of displeasure.

Stop pissing it off, Maro.

"You think one with a name like 'Pure Evil' is unaware of the nature of war? Surely, you jest."

Oh, that was pretty darn good! I smirk at the dragon's rebuttal.

My little facial motion caught its attention; its line of sight darts to me so briefly that I almost didn't see it happen.

Woah.

Just how observant IS this thing? This is exactly why I was supposed to keep my expression neutral. Damn.

Maro replies.

"Then what did I do? If I must die, I want to know why."

The dragon tilts its head away from Maro. For a split second I imagine it using its flame breath.

Maro. Shut the hell up.

"You personally led the massacre of the entire guard you were in charge of, as well. Good job. You sound like a competent mole. But here's the problem: you didn't dare face your captain."

I furrow my brows.

Wait, huh? What's it saying now?

I look around. The other executives are confused too— including Leario. Hrm.

It continues speaking.

"The opposite of love is not hate; it's indifference. Killing for love or hate destroys you and makes you weak. Killing for your emotions torments those same emotions."

The dragon tilts its head toward Maro before continuing again.

"You could slaughter everyone else, because you didn't care. Seeing you run from her made me believe you felt something toward her. And I was right. When you scowled at me earlier? I determined your true feelings."

The dragon raises its body slightly, its head straightening. Its horns tear through the plaster ceiling.

*chr-ktch*

This time, it speaks with a strong tone of disdain.

"You aren't harboring love, but a very blind hatred. I know you still want to kill her. Yet— I have declared her as my surrogate, have I not? Therefore, foolish human. You must die for wanting to kill me."

My jaw drops.

I was wondering if this thing was a dragon. Now, I'm certain. This... Is Pure Evil.

It looks down at my slack-jawed face while ignoring the small chunks of plaster laying atop its head.

"Your thoughts, leader?"

I feel the blood drain completely from my face and neck.

HOW— HOW?! How does it know I'm the syndicate's leader?!

I'm not even at the table! Plus, the guard captain shouldn't know! So who told it?! It's not Maro, because—

I think back to my interaction with Leario, as well as the dragon noticing my smirk.

Oh, HELL no! That's all it needed to figure me out?!

I suddenly remember it was staring at me, specifically, almost from the moment it entered the room.

I feel all my hair stand on end. How much does this thing know?

I... Must respond very carefully. Maro dug his own grave; I'd better not dig mine.

"Pure Evil, what you say is true. Maro was picked to sell out the guards precisely because he hates the guard captain for familial reasons. He'll probably kill her."

Maro nearly growls with rage.

"YOU! How could you say that right now?!"

I turn my head to face him.

"If it figured you out to that degree—"

The dragon interjects.

"He."

Alright, the dragon is male. Fine, I suppose?

"— do you think I should protect you? Do you think I can? Remember, he's asking us to rid ourselves of you. He isn't doing so himself, even though he easily could. Which means this isn't about whether you survive. That's already been decided. It's now about whether we do."

Maro screams.

"YOU FUCKING COWARD!"

The dragon glares at Maro, then speaks in a low and imperious tone.

"My determination was based entirely upon your own cowardice, you utter fool."

He looks down at me again.

"Well?"

Ah, I didn't give the order. I turn to face Maro.

"Maro, you've been stripped of your rights as a lesser executive per my, Raiz's, veto authority."

Maro's staring at me with horror and disbelief on his face, but I must continue.

"You'll hence face summary execution for the high crime of—"

I almost choke.

"— offending Pure Evil."