Chapter 36

Resh the violet dragon cast out her senses, sensing for any drain in the ambient mana field. There were many in this land of fat and plenty. She flew over most of the dungeonless cores, sensing the taint within them. The same taint that had driven the core in her lair to shatter and release its poison.

The recklessness of the humans knew no bounds, but she had vented most of her frustration for their mismanagement of the Core network on her way into this new land. She was further afield than she had ever gone before, so far from where she had hatched, and what she found here disgusted her.

Low level cores dotted the landscape, but she was not interested in establishing a new lair in such a weak environment only have it shatter after a few short years. She required a Core which would last for decades, if not centuries, for her new lair.

She had gotten hopeful as she sensed the handful of pure cores, ones with less taint. But her hopes had been dashed, the things were weak and pathetic. In the distance, to the west and slightly to the north, she sensed a powerful draw on mana, and that was the direction in which she was headed.

She knew not the human names for the landmarks she passed. She cared not for them either. While the stones bestowed her with the same gift of language as it did humans, she was not of a mind to communicate with them. Not beyond that which her actions said for themselves. She was displeased, and three times along the path to the powerful stone that she sensed she paused to let her displeasure be known.

Three villages paid for the sins of past controllers.

Finally, she passed into the mountains. The core stone which she had already selected for her new lair awaited.

Resh the violet dragon entered Tilluth Valley.

~~~~~~

Ponders-the-moon was basking in sunlight when the dragon arrived. He had just eaten a rabbit and was satiated, content with his mastery of the valley that he claimed as his dominion. Of the three Flame-lynxes that had spawned before the dungeon had formed, he was the strongest and the most dominant. He had staked his territory, and he would not be driven from it.

Until he heard the dragon cry, and the shadow passed over the sun, casting his world in shadow for but a second. Looking to the sky, Ponders-the-moon saw something greater than himself.

The dragon was mighty, giving off a terrible aura that he could sense despite the vast distance between them. Ponders-the-moon stopped basking in sunlight and entered stealth, erasing its presence to the highest degree that he was capable of. He slinked off to his lair to wait.

If the dragon passed by, he would emerge and reestablish his claim to his territory.

If not? Well, there were other valleys to claim as his own.

Ones without dragons in them.

~~~~~

Lubald was the first to hear the cry of the dragon. That was unsurprising, given that he was almost level fifty thanks to the time he had spent in the new dungeon. While the militia had been gaining on his heels ever since most of them had unlocked their classes, he remained the most powerful force in the valley.

But he knew the moment he heard that cry that fact was no longer true.

He bolt upright form his chair in the inn, knocking the table over. The innkeeper shouted at him, but Lubald ignored the man as his mind raced.

Fetch Harvold, Lubald signed to the room, which was staring at him like he had gone mad. There is not much time! We must flee to the dungeon, it is the only place that is safe. The danger will not fit through the entrance.

“What madness has gotten into you, Lubald?” one of the other patrons asked. “What danger? Is it the lynxes? They’ve barely been sighted in the last few months, let alone--”

Big threat. Flies. Do not know damn sign for it. Breathes fire. Giant lizard. Burns village. Hide or die. I must go, Lubald signed, and he ran from the room.

With his mouth, he was streaming curses. It didn’t do him much good because he still lacked the ability to make words thanks to the injury he’d suffered slaying the maneating Flame-lynx several months ago. He had regained his strength since then, and become even stronger in the dungeon that had formed in his lands.

Strong enough to deal with a dragon? Not even close.

But perhaps strong enough to protect the people of his village.

He had been sent here by the king to be the village’s protector, and while he’d been a drunken fool at the start, he’d be damned if they’d burry him with that impression as their only memory of him.

He broke the door of his house in his haste to get inside. The house had been designed for low level Commoners, not high level Warriors. He heard another cry from the far off dragon. This time it was nearly close enough that a Commoner could hear it; he hoped that the other Class holders in the village might have picked up on it this time.

Throwing his armor on as quickly as he could, he grabbed his bow. Not the one that he had brought to the village, but the far superior one that he had recently found in a treasure chest on the thirtieth floor of the Dungeon.

He didn’t know what the material it was made from. It was ornate, with a swirling cloud-like decorations that Lubald didn’t particularly care for decorating the recurve. It looked like metal but felt like bone, and its draw was such that no commoner could string it. Harvold, a level twenty warrior, would have a difficult time doing that.

For Lubald, it was a task of but a second.

If only he had arrows which could match its quality, but no. He had to make do with the jagged gutripper arrows that he’d been using to hunt the Flame-lynxes. Hopefully the serrated broad-heads would be enough to at least distract the oncoming disaster.

His armor was boiled Fire-Toad leather. He hadn’t found anything superior in the dungeon yet, although several of the militiamen had come across fine pieces inside the treasure chests, but nothing that Lubald was willing to purchase off of them. Nothing matched the quality of the crafted armor that he already had, although the beast that the leather was harvested from had only been level twenty.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

If only there were a craftsman in the village capable of dealing with the materials of the high level monsters deeper in the dungeon, perhaps he could commission a replacement suitable for his advancement, but that was a lamentation for another time. He must make do with what he had.

He emerged from the Weaver family’s old house armed for battle, and expecting that it would be his last.

Harvold hailed him, rushing over. Now the second highest leveled Class-holder in the village, Harvold was a Warrior and he moved with a grace which he had been lacking as a commoner. Being able to infuse Stamina into his movements meant that he could reach speeds which made him a blur to the eyes of the Commoners and Villagers of the village, and he employed that speed now upon seeing Lubald equipped for battle.

“What is it, Lubald?” Harvold demanded. “What’s spooked you?”

Approaching danger. Evacuate to the dungeon. Only place that’s safe. Lubald signed.

“What sort of danger?” Harvold demanded. “Is it the Lynxes? I don’t--”

Another cry of the dragon, this one close enough for Harvold’s to hear. The man went pale as he realized that the village was about to be razed, and there was nothing he could do to prevent it.

Evacuate the villagers, Lubald signed again, somewhat relieved to know that the threat was known to another, despite his inability to communicate it.

“Right, of course. What about you? Will you help?”

Bait, Lubald signed back. My turn.

Harvold was silent for a moment as Lubald blurred to even his senses, vanishing into the distance. Harvold had once held a very low opinion of the Lord of Tilluth Valley. In the moment of this crisis, he was forced to reevaluate.

“Yes, My Lord,” Harvold whispered. Then, shouting at the top of his lungs, infusing his voice with Stamina to turn it into a Battle Shout loud enough to be heard, he cried out “There is a Dragon incoming! Evacuate into the dungeon! Abandon everything that’s less valuable than your lives! Militia, gather up and spread word to the outlying farms, they need to --”

Lubald knew whence the dragon was coming. Moving at top speed, he was over the horizon from the village, but still he gasped when his fears were confirmed. The dragon was flying directly for Tilluth village.

Drawing an arrow, he dashed forward. He activated Enhance Arrow III, his infusing the weapon with as much Stamina as it would take. The projectile glowed with the power it contained, and when Lubald released it, the recoil was enough to drive him back half a step.

His aim was true, and the arrow pierced the dragon on the left wing, flying straight through the sinuous membrane. It did almost no damage to the beast, but it got the dragon’s attention. The winged catastrophe let out another bellow, one that could be heard throughout the valley.

It was a cry of the sort that reverberated in one’s ribs. Even the deaf would feel it.

Lubald drew another arrow, aiming for something more vital than a wing. He once more infused it with his Stamina, pushing the limit of what his skill allowed. The dragon curved as it sought out the one who had insulted it with such a puny attack. Lubald fired again, making his presence known as the arrow lodged itself deep into the dragon’s left thigh.

He cursed to himself as he drew a third arrow. The dragon screamed in outrage at this second injury, but seeing the source, it honed in on the insulting little creature. Lubald fired a third arrow, but it was consumed in the flame of the monster’s breath.

Lubald Dashed out of the way of the oncoming flame as the dragon passed over head, using all of the speed that his high Dexterity gave him and enhancing his movements further by burning Stamina.

He fired three more arrows as the dragon banked, each infused with as much Stamina as he could manage. Two of the arrows struck the target, the third flew wide. Lubald cursed with words that didn’t escape his lips.

He knew he couldn’t win this battle. He could only stall to give the villagers time to evacuate.

He turned and fled into the orchard nearby, hiding behind a fat Worthmus tree as the dragon flew overhead. The fire of its breath nearly incinerated the tree and burnt Lubald’s eyebrows off as he hid in the shadow of the trunk.

He rolled out and fired another two arrows at the passing dragon. It roared in outrage as one of the arrows pierced it’s tail, the other flying wide again. Lubald waited to make certain that the beast was banking for another pass, then Dashed off into the distance.

He was moving as fast as he could. If his opponent was less than a dragon, he’d be worried about losing them. He knew that the monstrous lizard was on his tail, however, and he desperately sought cover from the flame. He could run twice as fast as a horse, properly motivated, but he knew that the dragon would overtake him eventually.

He passed a road, and he saw a villager standing there in confusion. Lubald cursed; he didn’t have time to deal with this!

Flee! He signed. Get into the dungeon!

The villager looked at him in confusion. “Lord Lubald? What is happening? What is making that sound?”

The dragon came into sight, and the villager screamed in panic.

Go that way! Lubald shouted at the man, and the man went that way. Lubald turned and drew his bow, aiming for the oncoming murder-beast, letting fly as soon as it came into range.

It made no difference. Though the arrow struck true, hitting the dragon on the flank, the dragon still selected the weaker target to deal with first.

The fire incinerated the poor man in an instance. He barely had time to scream.

The death of the villager right before his eyes enraged Lubald to a degree he hadn’t thought possible. That man owed him money! Now Lubald would never collect!

He drew another arrow and infused it, surpassing his previous limit as his emotions pushed the limits of his Empower Arrow III ability to the next level. He could feel the resonance in his soul as it rose to level IV. This time, when the arrow struck the dragon, it lodged itself fully in the beast, the Stamina stored within the projectile adding to its penetration power and inflicting internal damage to the dragon.

However, the dragon was robust. A lesser beast might have been torn apart by such an attack. To the dragon, it was as damaging as sitting on a pin.

Still it roared in outrage, turning once more to pursue Lubald. Lubald fled.

The villagers needed time to evacuate. Either into the dungeon, or into the hills nearby, it mattered little either way.

Lubald dashed through the hills, barely avoiding the dragon’s breath as it flew past him time and again. He distracted it for as long as he could, occasionally firing shots at it to keep it enraged. Finally, when he was down to twenty Stamina, he knew that his limit was approaching. It was time to get to safety himself.

He hoped that he had given the village enough time to get to safety, but although he had put himself in great danger, he wasn’t quite willing to die for the sake of protecting Tilluth Village. He had mostly circled the village, a vague plan in mind.

He blurred as he burned the rest of his stamina fleeing the dragon. He reached the dungeon entrance just as the dragon landed behind him.

He dashed through the archway, hiding behind the pillar. The dragonflame followed him, but he was sheltered by the heat-resistant Dungeon Stone.

The dragon snapped at the entrance, but its head was too fat to get inside. It crashed its skull against the archway, but the Dungeon Stone was stubborn and did not give way. The monster unleashed its fiery breath once more, but Lubald remained safe.

He hid where he was for an hour, until finally the dragon gave up.

Lubald collapsed as he realized that he was truly safe. He rested a moment, recovering a few points of Stamina, before heading deeper into the Dungeon.

He found Harvold waiting for him at the stairs to floor two.

“My Lord,” Harvold said, and Lubald realized that it was the first time since he’d first arrived that the militiaman had referred to him by his title. “We’ve established a camp on the second floor. The entire village is accounted for, but only a third of the people from the nearby farms.”

They’re on their own. Lubald signed. Hopefully they flee to Tuksan, or into the hills. We’re fortunate that Tilluth has so many cows, that should keep them safe as the beast hunts the easy prey.

“As you say, My Lord,” Harvold agreed. “Come, let the wise woman see to your burns.”

Lubald allowed himself to be led deeper into the dungeon by Harvold. When he reached the second floor, he was surprised to find a waiting crowd. The villagers of Tilluth village began chanting his name.

He stood there, stupefied for a moment. It wasn’t until that moment that the absurdity of the situation finally sank in to him.

Was he a hero?