As they ventured further north, delving deeper into the dense forest, Richard’s keen eyes spotted three drakes sprawled on the ground, their massive forms motionless except for the slow rise and fall of their breaths. Their scaled hides gleamed faintly under streaks of sunlight piercing the canopy, and their tails twitched idly, brushing against the forest floor.
Raising his hand, Richard signaled for the group to stop. “Drakes up ahead,” he said quietly, his tone calm but firm.
The group halted, following his gaze. The tension was mild—these weren’t the kind of monsters to put Richard on edge—but it was enough to keep everyone alert. Richard assessed the drakes for a moment before glancing back at the party. “I’ll handle this. Stay here,” he instructed, his voice steady, as though he were talking about swatting a fly rather than dealing with dangerous beasts.
The villagers shifted their focus entirely to Richard, their gazes filled with a mix of skepticism and anticipation. Could he really handle the monsters on his own? Their whispers hushed as they watched him reach into his pouch, extracting three bullets with practiced ease.
Richard loaded the bullets into his gun with a calm precision, the faint click of the mechanism cutting through the forest’s quiet. His movements were steady, almost casual, as though this were just another day for him. The weight of the villagers’ eyes didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest.
Richard raised his gun, his movements fluid and deliberate. With a steady hand, he took aim at the nearest drake. The silence of the forest shattered as the gun fired with a sharp bang.
The bullet struck true, and within moments, frost began to spread from the impact point. Ice crystals crept rapidly across the drake’s body, encasing it entirely in a shimmering, frozen prison.
Without hesitation, Richard shifted his aim to the second drake. Another shot rang out, and the second creature met the same fate. The villagers watched in stunned silence as the icy casing enveloped the beast, freezing it solid in an instant.
The forest seemed to hold its breath, the tension melting into awe as Richard’s precise strikes subdued two of the monstrous threats with ease.
The third drake stirred, its reptilian eyes snapping open as the echo of the gunshot roused it from its slumber. Its head swiveled toward the source of the sound, locking onto Richard’s party with a predatory gleam. With a guttural growl, it rose to its feet and charged, its massive claws digging into the earth as it propelled itself forward with terrifying speed.
Richard raised his gun, ready to neutralize the threat, but Zafir stepped forward, holding up a hand. “Please wait!” he called out, urgency in his voice.
Richard’s eyes narrowed, but he held his fire. “Why?” he asked, not lowering his weapon.
“Let me handle it,” Zafir said, his tone resolute. “I want to see how I fare against it.”
Richard hesitated, his calculating gaze weighing Zafir’s determination. After a moment, he gave a short nod. “Go ahead. Don’t get yourself killed,” he said, lowering his gun.
Zafir stepped forward, his face exposed and resolute, as he prepared to confront the charging beast. The drake roared, its razor-sharp teeth glinting menacingly as it closed the distance. The villagers watched in a mix of terror and anticipation, unsure of what to expect from the determined figure stepping into the fray.
Zafir's heart pounded as he sprinted forward, claws gleaming in the faint light filtering through the forest canopy. "Khalid, Elder, I will get stronger for you both!" he vowed silently, his thoughts a steady rhythm matching his stride.
The drake snarled, lowering its massive head as it barreled toward him, each step shaking the ground beneath its bulk. Its fiery eyes locked onto its prey, but Zafir's resolve never wavered. With a sharp inhale, he leaped into action, his claws slicing through the air as he aimed for the drake's vulnerable spots.
The drake's roar echoed through the forest, shaking leaves from the trees as it charged at Zafir, claws tearing into the earth. Zafir dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the beast's snapping jaws. His claws glowed faintly as he slashed at the drake's side, leaving shallow marks against its tough scales.
The drake whipped its tail around in retaliation, catching Zafir off guard. The blow sent him skidding across the dirt. He gritted his teeth, rising to his feet. “You’re not going to win this,” he growled, his claws elongating as he rushed in again.
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Zafir leaped at the drake’s exposed neck, claws aiming for a critical strike. The drake twisted its body, swatting him mid-air with a foreleg. Zafir crashed to the ground, groaning as pain shot through his ribs.
His claws dug into the dirt as he coughed, his breaths coming in short, uneven gasps. He clenched his teeth against the pain, but it wasn't just the physical agony that weighed on him.
“Is this all I’m capable of?” The thought echoed bitterly in his mind, dragging him into a spiral of self-doubt. The sting of failure was almost worse than the throbbing in his chest.
"Zafir!" Milli shouted, stepping forward, but Richard raised a hand to stop her.
"Let him fight," Richard said calmly, though his eyes remained locked on the battle.
The drake loomed over Zafir, its jaws opening wide to finish him off. Zafir rolled away just in time, narrowly avoiding being crushed. He countered with a desperate swipe of his claws, this time digging deeper into the beast’s hide, but it wasn’t enough to stop the drake's relentless assault.
His heart pounded in his chest as he dodged another swipe of the drake's powerful tail. Sweat dripped down his brow, mixing with the dirt and blood that clung to his skin. His mind raced as he fought to keep up with the drake’s ferocity.
“I MUST defeat this drake!” The thought roared in his mind, louder than the beast’s snarls. “I MUST! For them... for myself!”
Zafir panted heavily, his stance faltering as frustration and fatigue weighed him down. The drake lunged again, its massive tail swinging low and sweeping Zafir’s legs out from under him. He hit the ground hard, coughing as the wind was knocked from his lungs.
“Zafir, enough!” Richard’s voice rang out.
Zafir looked up as Richard tossed something through the air—a gleaming sword that spun end over end before landing with a sharp thunk into the dirt near Zafir's hand.
“Use the sword,” Richard commanded, his voice calm but firm.
Zafir hesitated for a moment, staring at the blade. His claws flexed instinctively, a symbol of his pride, his heritage. But as the drake roared again, closing in for the kill, Zafir gritted his teeth and grabbed the sword.
The moment his fingers wrapped around the hilt, a surge of energy coursed through him. The blade felt balanced, almost as if it were an extension of his own body. He stood, adjusting his grip, and faced the drake once more.
The drake charged, jaws snapping, but Zafir was ready. With a swift step to the side, he dodged its attack and slashed at its leg. The sword bit deep, drawing a spray of dark blood and a roar of pain from the beast.
Zafir pressed the advantage, weaving around the drake's clumsy swipes and tail swings. The blade gleamed as he carved precise strikes into its vulnerable spots—the joints of its legs, the softer underside of its tail.
Finally, the drake reared back, preparing to slam down with its full weight. Zafir seized the opening, dashing under its neck and driving the sword upward with all his strength. The blade pierced through scales and muscle, striking deep into the drake’s throat.
The beast let out a final, choking roar before collapsing to the ground. Its body twitched once, then lay still.
Breathing heavily, Zafir pulled the sword free and stepped back, his chest heaving. He looked at the blade, then back at Richard, who met his gaze with a satisfied nod.
“You did well,” Richard said simply, turning and walking back toward the rest of the group.
Zafir watched him for a moment before looking down at the fallen drake. “Khalid, Elder... I’ll get stronger. I swear it.”
“Erm… this sword…” Zafir muttered, holding the blade up as he turned toward Richard, his tone filled with curiosity and surprise.
Richard glanced at him briefly, his expression as indifferent as ever. “Keep it,” he said, already shifting his attention elsewhere. “I picked it up from Meng Jin Village. At least it came in handy.”
Zafir ran his clawed fingers along the blade’s edge, and his eyes widened slightly. Despite its worn appearance—the dull finish, the chipped hilt—its edge was sharp. Memories of their brief stops during their travels flashed in his mind: Richard sharpening a blade by the fire, his movements deliberate and precise.
“This… you sharpened this,” Zafir realized aloud, his voice filled with awe.
Richard didn’t turn back, continuing to walk toward the others. “Figured it’d be useful,” he said casually.
Zafir tightened his grip on the sword, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar warmth. It wasn’t just a simple weapon. Richard, despite his distant demeanor, had prepared it, knowing it might be needed.
“Thank you,” Zafir said softly, his tone carrying a depth of gratitude.
Though Richard didn’t respond, Zafir knew the gesture meant more than words. Holding the blade with renewed determination, Zafir looked at the sword’s sharp edge and made a silent promise: I won’t let your effort go to waste.
“You did good!” Milli exclaimed, running up to Zafir with a bright smile, her hand patting his back enthusiastically.
Zafir flinched at first, surprised by the sudden gesture, but then he let out a small, awkward chuckle. “T-thank you…” he stammered, his voice quieter than usual.
Her genuine words stirred something unfamiliar within him—a warm feeling that contrasted with the cold indifference he had grown used to back in his village. There, praise often felt hollow, a formality rather than heartfelt acknowledgment. But this… this felt real.
Zafir lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers directly as a faint smile tugged at his lips. For the first time in a long while, he felt truly seen—not as a monster or an outcast, but as someone capable.
“Let’s keep this up,” Milli added, her voice steady with optimism. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Zafir nodded firmly, gripping the sword in his hand, feeling its weight and significance. “I’ll do my best,” he murmured, his resolve growing stronger.
“Let’s move on,” Richard said firmly, his voice steady as he glanced ahead. He tightened his grip on Regina’s hand, gently guiding her forward. “No time to waste.”
“I’m coming!” Zafir called out, his voice carrying a hint of urgency. He adjusted the worn sword at his side before breaking into a brisk run to catch up with the group. Despite the exhaustion tugging at his body, there was a newfound lightness in his step.
As he reached the others, Zafir fell into stride beside them, a quiet determination etched on his face. The forest around them whispered with the rustling of leaves, but the tension from the earlier fight still hung faintly in the air. None of them spoke further; the urgency of their journey demanded their focus.
The villagers trailed behind the group, maintaining a respectful distance, their wary eyes fixed on the adventurers who had just proven their mettle. Murmurs of relief and cautious hope rippled among them. It was clear now that these were not just wandering mercenaries boasting empty promises—they were capable, their strength evident in the felled drakes.
Though still hesitant, the villagers walked with a newfound sense of security. Each step forward felt less burdened by fear, their glances darting less frequently toward the shadowy forest around them. They stayed close enough to remain in the adventurers' protective radius, yet far enough to avoid overstepping boundaries.
Quiet gratitude lingered in their expressions, though none dared speak it aloud just yet. For now, they clung to the belief that the path ahead might finally lead to safety.