Sound in The dining room trickled to nothing. D left with a casual 'goodbye', he hadn't heard about Silva being a vampire. Or even her name. Or that her staff had a name. After his guard dropped, his confidence in the situation and will to continue decayed in it's entirety. By the time Silva had stopped talking, he had forgotten that she had revealed that she and now deceased Guan Yi were the cause of the budding roving bands of assassins, the poisoned inn, and the army D burnt to nothing.

He wandered out of the dining room, saying his goodbyes and mulling over new worries. Is Juno okay? Thanks to the main issue being taken care of, there was another that floated into it's place. But that didn't change the good news that he was a confirmed Lord now, and without another fight too.

It felt like a weight floated off of him when Silva said "You're confirmed for lord already!" There was some talk of the war, but Silva put a stop to it, insisting D needed rest. Although D didn't realize it, as soon as she mentioned it, he acknowledged it.

Taps against the stone rang out with his steps. It's a garden. The sun's shining, his skin feels warm, and the assassination faucet was now off. D turned the spigot off with his actions today. Even if it didn't go how he wanted, it went well enough. Now, time to enjoy the peace. He could get some real sleep ton-

D felt a blade cut into his neck.

"Do you have any sense of danger? This may not be enemy territory, but-" complained Bisha.

D's switch flipped. Oh, look, it's the Lord of Whocaresistan. I'm afraid you've caught me in a bad mood, madam.

D turned and grabbed the curved sword out of Bisha's hand, her face twisting in pain as his vice grip overpowered her hold on the handle. She clasped her hands in pain and shock at the force of his movement. Although D held the edge with a clasped hand, it didn't even cut his skin. D stared into Bisha's eyes, waving the curved blade he held. She's cute but- this isn't the time to give in to cuteness!

D waved the handle in Bisha's face menacingly, then with a swoop of his free arm put it around her shoulders.

"Wha-?!"

D guided the struggling Bisha to sit down on a nearby garden bench.

"Let's talk, shall we?" D said.

Bisha struggled against D's arm a little more before realizing the extent of his strength. It was more like pushing against a rock than another human.

"Chimera's are this strong? No wonder Dwiffking wanted you wiped out!"

"Look, it's not nice to judge on appearances or circumstances of birth. I'll have you know I was human a couple of months ago," D informed her. Nicely.

"I won't attack you again. Get your arm off me. And give me my sword back."

D pulled his arm off Bisha, leveled the curved sword in front of him and grabbed the other half of the edge. Both hands clasped on the blade, D gripped a dent into the metal and twisted. The sword snapped, and he tossed away both pieces with an upset look on his face. D leaned back, crossing a leg over his knee, and stared forward into the garden. He ignored Bisha entirely.

"My sword!" Bisha gasped. D didn't watch as she writhed in agony, staring at the distant pieces of metal. "Do you unde-"

"Let's talk," D repeated interrupting her. His voice was monotone. That was about as threatening as he felt like being under the circumstances. Juno was waiting.

D saw her contorted face about to complain and continued.

"It's been a rough day. You ever been speared through the heart? Ice Spear? It's cold. It's ice cold! I'll have you know I really should have died! Screw your sword! You know what I care about, Bisha? Quiet. I've got a maid, a catgirl maid, and I don't know if she's okay. Screw your war, screw politics!" D whined. He didn't even take a look at Bisha's face. D got mad at himself, stopping to re-evaluate his behavior. This isn't mature at all. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead.

"Leave, or I'm going to shadowflame you," D said.

Bisha stood and left, anger on her face and a small tear as she reverently collected her sword pieces. D caught a sight her crouching over her sword, a mournful look on her face as he walked away.

Bisha started crying, alone in the garden, she screwed her eyes tight and balled her fists- unfortunately around the edges the broken blade pieces.

She rolled around on the ground in pain, cursing D as she grit her teeth.

Marscione, the royal capital headed by the ever drunk Lord Marscione is full of tributaries and hilly islands. You could even call it more of a countryside surrounded by thick rivers with half submarine half boats dotting the waters. See, Marscione has rivers with small dark forms sliding in them. If you were to stand by the edge and look down, fully aware that there was no railing to save you, and looked down into the depths, you might recoil in horror at the sea creature's shadow.

D, intent on heading back to the inn, had gotten lost. He left the map Laplas had slid under the door at the inn to him somewhere not in his clothing. There was several minutes of upset patting and rechecking his pockets, and his resolution became he left it at the Lord's mansion.

"I'm not going back there! I don't want to go back! Let it end! Let this day end!"

D groaned with his hands on his head, leaning towards the sky.

"Juno..." D grumbled. D kicked the ground, cracking the pavement and willfully ignoring the screams of the nearby townspeople. 

He plodded back, trying to find the way. It's unfortunate, but he had already walked away quite angrily from his encounter with Bisha, so he was lost. Without any signs to guide him, he approached an apple seller for help.

"Oh, Marscione's mansion? Sorry, no idea," the apple seller said. 

D made his way into the street, frowning as he did. 

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"That apple seller was unnecessarily... fit?" D said.

It was strange to him that it would be that way. Well, I suppose, he began thinking, if you carry huge apple tins all day...

D glumly sat by the river. Big enough to be called a small sea or lake, he could see hilly islands in the distance connected by a web of bridges.

"I'm just resting, just resting," he mumbled. 

His appearance wasn't that strange, but the thought of having to catch another stranger's attention again wore him out. He was already at his limits from that encounter with Bit- I mean Bisha and Silva making a fool out of him in front of the Lords. But hey, at least it's over right? D tried to comfort himself like that. Even in his own city, Locos, he didn't know the inhabitants that well. Maybe when he gets back he should-

He remembered Afgar and the magic sword he gave him, the one Lord Ros almost stole his body with. Because of that, he remembered that Afgar referred him to another Dwiff in the royal capital to check out his bulletblade.

"I don't want to do it... I want to get out of this damn city as soon as possible," D complained with a heavy sigh. He flexed his wings out, not caring that he might be seen as he headed toward the river to rest for a moment.

D sat cross-legged on the river bank and switched open the handle, looking at the soul counter. It rose again. He clicked it closed, putting his hand on his cheek and resting his elbow on his thigh. Juno came first. Saten had it. Saten probably had it. No, Saten definitely saved her. D tapped his finger on his cheek.

D looked out over the water, the sunset red and yellow sparkling off into his eyes.

"Should I fly here? In the city? Nah, that would make them panic, for sure," D sighed.

He frowned.

"Then again, I might as well throw caution to the wind..."

At that moment, a giant horn pierced the sea's surface. Nine feet long, a bulbous head with pinprick eyes stared at him. D froze, looking into the eyes of the beast, his eyes traveling up the horn for a moment. The horn submerged into the water, leaving D only with the impression of-

"what the-?"

D got up and walked away from the sea. His sweat mottled his face as he did, heading towards anywhere away from the sea of Marscione.

"I could totally rip that narwhal in half... I just don't want to..."

D lied to himself out loud.

At that point, he heard a splash and roar of a torrent of water. D turned, and nine-foot horn plunged straight through him all the way until his chest met the bulbous head at the hilt of the horn. A massive black shape writhed in front of him, flippers extending out of its form like a massive black turd strewn across the riverbank to get to D. Although the beast was perhaps several tons of flesh D's immense dragon strength allowed him to not even budge from the spot. The result, a nine-foot horn straight through D's chest with him holding his ground out of reaction alone to the force of the impact.

Strangely, although he was pierced, it didn't hurt. As D's mind clicked his senses back in order, he saw his newly repaired shirt ripped again. This time, no blood, no pain.

"Huh. Is that... a narwhal?"

That was about all D could process from the sudden attack from the seaborne creature. That he could even talk with several tons of narwhal writhing on the riverbank with the super long horn through him was a testament to his impossible strength. Strength that had grown from his dragon adaptability during the throne room fight.

D smacked the narwhal like a fly in the next instant. The horn cracked off, and the narwhal's face deformed from a bulb into a concave as it's body began to float like it was ascending to heaven. Then, it did ascend to the heavens. D squinted his eyes, tracking the speck of the narwhal, trying to see where it would land.  To his surprise, it didn't come into view again. 

D looked at his hand and flexed it, feeling the strength, surprised he could even pull something like that off. He examined the broke off narwhal horn in his chest and gingerly pushed it through his body in disgust. The narwhal horn popped out the other end, the hole healing by itself with unprecedented speed. D frowned, turning to the broken narwhal horn lying on the riverbank behind him, looking to the sky, and back to his chest. 

"Dragon adaptability is too insane..." 

The thought occurred to him when he read the manual that there should be a limit. Didn't seem that was the case. D touched his chest, then flung his hand away and picked up the narwhal horn in joy swinging it about and humming as he resolved to return to the inn at any cost.

"Maybe I can fly, then? It was a lot harder with lower strength, but if I'm at this level now..." D wondered.

D shouldered the narwhal horn like a spear and ambled into town, a grin on his face. D made it to the nearest building, a stone building with an ample waterfront property. He threw the narwhal horn to a battlement at the top, it pierced through halfway and sat there, waiting for him. D began to climb. There were no handholds to be found, the stone bricks placed without even a hair's width between them. D's fingers scraped into the stone pulling his body upwards without the aid of his feet.

He reached the top by marring the stone walls with pockmarks. D looked out over the city, grabbing the narwhal horn and freeing it easily from the stone battlement. D spread his dragon wings and jumped. He flapped a few times with more strength than before, catching the wind and balanced himself. A touch of movement of this wing to the right, a touch of moving this wing to the left, he learned as he went, nervously putting both hands on the narwhal horn for comfort. D soared over the town of Marscione, enjoying the new freedom in the sky as he searched for the inn.

Rumors spread about there being a narwhal that grew wings. That was cleared up later. It was just the new chimera Lord of Locos flying with a narwhal horn.