The sounds of sharp steel broke the silence as the twelve knights in gray drew their swords. They had not planned to use them other than to scare the local farmers, but the sudden appearance of this stranger in red gave them few options, and drawing their weapons seemed the least cowardly. Though the villagers would classify these twelve as knights, they were still nothing compared to the stranger in red.

In fact, he fit the title of knight leagues more, and the twelve in gray were little more than lowlife thugs in comparison. His elaborate plate armor was covering his whole body, and if it weren't for the scratches and a few small dents, one would be forgiven for thinking it was only a showpiece. In the center of the breastplate was a golden crest depicting the head of a dragon, and the helmet had a dragon's two horns protruding outwards and back in a menacing display. The stranger's magnificent armor was not even comparable to the thugs' shabby gray gambesons and muddy cloth trousers.

This was without a doubt the gifted champion of the dragon god, one of the few gifted champions living in the kingdom. His sword sheathed, he was slowly walking up to the twelve. Their expression of uncertainty and deliberation spoke for them: They knew who he was, and they knew they would likely not leave this village alive. Yet still, one of them mustered the courage to speak out to him. Perhaps to confirm that his worst fears were about to come true, or perhaps with the microscopically slim chance they could talk their way out, the thug assumed a leadership position and shouted:

"You there! Warrior! What brings you to our village so fully armed?"

The red champion stopped, looking at them through his helmet. Though the man could not see them, he could feel the champion's eyes on him like daggers, prodding his morale with heavy thrusts. The fact that the armored dragon reacted to his words caused his legs to start shaking. Nevertheless, he tried to hide a gulp and continued.

"A s-stranger walks up to us unannounced wearing all armor. S-sounds like we should b-be prepared to defend ourselves."

The champion stood still, not giving the leader the satisfaction of an answer. Behind the thugs, village farmers had been cowering together in fear. However, when they had noticed the champion, their morale had flipped, and now they seemed hopeful. That is, until one of the twelve, bald and with an ugly tattoo on his head, turned back and looked at them. The self-assumed leader continued as the champion still refused to answer.

"W-well you seem like a respectable fellow. I guess you were just pa-passing through looking for some food or s-shelter?"

He knew by this point his performance was anything but convincing to the champion, but he had dug himself too deep to stop. At this point, the champion seemed to be waiting for him to continue speaking, though the leader didn’t know why. Could it be he was weary of all his friends? Afraid they would start using the farmers as shields, giving him little chance to save them?

No. The leader had heard stories about the red dragon, and none of them painted him as a ‘savior of the innocent’. He was likely just toying with them, having his fun, and seeing what they would say to try to save their skins. That fact annoyed the leader slightly, and he looked back up at the one in red. Trying to claim some authority over the village he and his friends had captured, he spoke up.

"I'm s-s-sorry but there ain't any room for s-strangers in this town. I-i-if you want a w-warm welcome, there’s a b-bigger one to the e-east that has a t-t-tavern you can st-stay at."

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His fears betrayed him, his words stumbling out of his mouth forming sentences that wouldn’t even convince a child. Again the champion didn't answer. He just stood perfectly still, staring at the thugs. If it weren't for those daggers the leader felt stabbing at his psyche, he could almost believe that the champion had turned to stone. With one final push, he tried to end the conversation.

"W-well I h-hope you find it. It's not t-t-too far away. B-be seeing you."

Hastily, the leader turned his back in a signal that their conversation was over, and the other eleven followed suit. However, when he started walking the other way, he finally heard the champion's voice answering.

"Pathetic…"

That was the one word that came from behind him. Compared to the shaky voice of the thug, it was menacing enough to send cold shivers down his back. Looking at his men, they had all turned back, so the leader followed. The suit of armor had unsheathed his silver blade. It was placed with the tip into the ground, his hands resting on it. Compared to the steel blades the twelve carried, the sword of this red dragon was immaculate.

"I thought you would at least threaten me with killing these people your men have been harassing, but not even that?"

The sheer disappointment in the champion’s voice caused the thugs’ faces to turn from unease to terror. They now understood the value this legendary figure had placed on these villagers, which meant they could not use them as a bargaining chip now. The champion folded his hands together as if he was speaking to children who had just misbehaved and needed a stern talking to.

"Judging by your expressions, you all probably know who I am, but allow me to introduce myself."

He lifted his sword and struck a pose, pointing the sword towards them.

"I am Archon, gifted champion of the Dragon God, and your final opponent before death!"

At the mention of his name, the golden crest in his armor seemed to glow, and with it, his sword turned from silver to a glowing red shade. It was as if the metal was heating itself up. However, the shape never changed, nor did it seem like the blade was softening or liquifying.

At the champion's declaration, the eleven thugs behind the leader started running away, dropping or throwing their swords to the ground in the process. Some of them stumbled and struggled, and one of them even lost his footing and fell to the muddy ground. The leader, however, was completely frozen in shock, and the grip on his sword only tightened. This reaction seemed to slightly please the red dragon.

"You are just going to stand there and wait? Good, then I'll start with your friends."

His red sword glowed even brighter as he readied himself like a cat ready to chase the mice fleeing from him. The blade caught fire, and then he vanished.

No, not vanished. He had charged after the fleeing thugs and was moving too quickly for the leader to see. Still frozen he could do nothing, but he heard a few clean slices that silenced the screaming men running, followed by a short pause, and then a few thuds, like bags of potatoes hitting the ground.

Some seconds passed and there was no sound, and the leader was still frozen, looking at where the suit of armor had stood before its charge. Even the scared noises of the villagers were no longer heard, not even the wind. The only thing the leader heard, was the steady beat of his own heart. Was it over? Would the red champion spare his life? He said he would start with the others, but was there a chance he had changed his mind about the one remaining? As soon as those thoughts entered the leader's mind, he suddenly felt something hot rapidly approaching his neck. He didn't have time to react before a flaming blade touched his skin, and without stopping, sliced all the way through. His head, along with his body, fell to the ground.