Muriel rested her chin on her hand, gazing out over the amphitheater with a smile that hid a malevolent intent toward those within the secret organization. Yet, in her mind, she was brewing another plan, one that involved dealing with the impostor pretending to be Fumiko. Muriel remembered her true name well, but she had given her a nickname: Dacia, the Pretender. It was just a playful thought, but as a dragon, Muriel would never allow a mere insect to offend her so easily.
"Where could that woman be? Or did I crush her so hard they had to bury her? No matter, I'll find her eventually," Muriel mused to herself as she remained in her thoughtful pose. Eventually, she let her hand drop and turned to head back into the house.
"Time to wash up. Looking like this is just unsightly."
Muriel walked into the bathroom, and as she did, her clothes transformed into a black liquid that slid off her body. She bent down slightly to turn on the faucet, letting the water fill the tub until it was deep enough for her to bathe. While she waited for the water to rise, she let herself drift into her thoughts.
"Would Fumiko want me to do this? To kill that woman just to satisfy my desires?" Muriel pondered, questioning what Fumiko might think of her actions. It was as if she were trying to convince herself not to go through with this plan.
"But if I don't act and let her go, how can I even call myself a dragon anymore?"
“No, it's more than just being a dragon."
"A demon lord."
Muriel weighed the thoughts in her mind for a while, contemplating her next move. If Fumiko were here, she would undoubtedly try to stop Muriel. Yet, Muriel's pride wouldn't allow her to let an insect mock her by taking the form of her only friend. When she snapped out of her thoughts, she noticed that the water had almost filled the tub. She quickly turned off the faucet and slipped into the bath, sinking into the warm water.
Muriel spent a considerable time soaking in the bath, her mind still occupied with only a few things, but she couldn't stop thinking about them. After thoroughly washing her smooth, pale skin, she finally rose from the tub and drained the water. Once she was dressed, she walked to the front door of her house, pausing to stare at it for a moment before opening it and stepping outside.
"Dacia. Where could that woman be now? The hospital, perhaps? Hmm... I don't even know the way. Should I ask the guards for directions now?" Muriel mused as she wandered aimlessly down the street near her house, which was near the amphitheater. She continued until she found herself standing in front of a bakery. Without much thought, she decided to go inside.
As soon as Muriel stepped in, she was greeted by the enticing aroma of fresh butter that filled the entire shop. The freshly baked bread was neatly displayed in glass cases under the counter, not only that, cakes, pies, tarts, and other assortment of small, palm-size pastries had their own glass cases displaying them, and even though Muriel was a dragon who preferred meat, the smell of the breads were too tempting to resist. She immediately felt the urge to spend some money on the bakery's offerings, but before she could, the shop's owner approached her.
"Welcome! What can I get for you, miss?" A sturdy, stocky, and rather short bearded dwarf climbed onto a small stool behind the glass counter to greet her. Muriel caught the distinct scent of the dwarf, a blend of fresh butter and newly baked bread, unmistakable to her keen senses.
"Oh? A dwarf? I never expected to see one of your kind selling bread like this. It explains why the glass counter looks so beautifully crafted," Muriel remarked to the shop owner. She felt a slight sense of relief that, for once, she didn't have to look up at someone while talking. As she glanced over the large loaves of bread in the display, she quickly spotted one that was a golden yellow, emitting a mouthwatering aroma as if it had just come out of the oven moments before she entered.
"I'll take that one," she said, pointing at the loaf.
The dwarf who owned the shop glanced at Muriel for a moment too. To him, she appeared to be nothing more than a young girl with long black hair covering both of her ears, dressed like someone of high status. But deep down, he felt that there was something more to her than just an ordinary human, though he couldn't quite place what it was.
"Aye miss, I get that a lot. This loaf will be one silver coin," the dwarf smiled, taking out the loaf and putting it in a paper bag before sliding it back to her.
"Thanks. Oh, by the way, there's something I'd like to ask you," Muriel replied, taking a silver coin out from her skirt pocket and placing it on the glass counter.
"What is it, miss?" the dwarf asked.
"I was just curious, for the adventurers or competitors in that arena, where do they go if they get injured?" Muriel inquired.
"Oh, well, for the competitors, if they’re badly hurt, there’s a small hospital just across the street from here. You just need to walk around the arena, and you’ll get there. As for the adventurers, they have their own infirmary at the Adventurers' Guild," the dwarf explained, pointing a finger outside the shop, seemingly gesturing to the other side of the arena.
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"It seems today's morning matches were a total mess. I heard a rumor that one of the competitors looked like a corpse by the end of it," he added.
"Oh, is that so? Well, if they’re not dead yet, good. I’ll make sure to pay them a visit myself soon enough," Muriel responded with a slight grin, taking the paper bag with the loaf inside and making her way out of the shop.
"Wait, miss. Are you human? Those golden eyes of yours." the dwarf asked Muriel, his curiosity compelling him to speak up.
“Fwu” Muriel, who had been smiling, let out a short sigh. "Not exactly. But the fact that you could tell just by looking at this human form of mine. That’s what I’d expect from a dwarf. We and your kind can see through each other with just a glance, huh?"
"Are you... a dragon?" the dwarf asked, his gaze fixed on Muriel. He wasn’t sure what she would do next, but he feared that if he did anything to displease her now, she might reduce his shop to ashes. That and his mighty war axe is haft the room away.
"Correct, I am a dragon. A black dragon, to be precise. But don't worry, I’m not here to cause any trouble, just to buy some bread," Muriel said, turning back to look at the dwarf. She smiled faintly, revealing unusually sharp fangs. Her golden eyes gleamed like gold, causing the dwarf to nearly fall off his small stool in fear.
"See you around. If I ever crave more bread, I'll come back to your shop. The smell is quite irresistible," Muriel waved slowly and then walked out of the shop.
"Syra be merciful, almost wet meself." the dwarf muttered, finally feeling relieved. He slowly climbed down from his small stool, clutching his chest as his heart raced, nearly skipping a beat.
Not long after, Muriel crossed from the dwarf’s bakery to a small hospital designated for the combat tournament participants. She walked in with the bread she had bought and asked the nurses until she found out which room Dacia was resting in. Muriel headed straight to that room, but deep inside, she was still debating with herself whether to let Dacia go or make her pay for impersonating Fumiko.
Upon entering, Muriel saw Dacia’s condition, wrapped in bandages all over her body as if she were a corpse waiting to be placed in a coffin. Both her arms were braced up to heal her broken bones, and her legs were elevated on a small stand on the bed. Dacia was sitting up instead of lying down, and her eyes and mouth had recovered enough to function after receiving healing magic, so it was clear she wasn't on her deathbed, but her recovery was still far from complete. Near the bed was a small end table with a chair beside it.
When Dacia saw Muriel slowly open the door and enter the room with a slight smirk, showing her sharp teeth, fear overtook her. She let out a frightened whimper as Muriel approached her. But her fear gradually turned into confusion when she caught the scent of fresh-baked bread in the paper bag Muriel carried.
"Shh... shh... There's no need to cry. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long before standing here beside you," Muriel said as she stood over and looked down at Dacia’s pitiful condition.
"It’s surprising, really. Even after I left you in this state, you’re still not dead,” Muriel’s smile faded as she placed the paper bag containing the bread on the end table beside the bed.
“Why…” Dacia croaked out slowly, using whatever strength she had to turn her head toward Muriel, who was now pulling up a chair to sit beside the bed.
“Because the one you were pretending to be wouldn’t want me to tear you apart limb from limb for merely mimicking her face,” Muriel replied immediately, her gaze fixed on Dacia with disdain, though, at this moment, she harbored no immediate ill intentions toward her. Muriel fell silent for a moment before speaking again.
"Sorry, I got a bit carried away with you. Honestly, I meant to kill you back then," Muriel admitted, her voice calm but unapologetic.
"And you call that 'getting carried away'?" Dacia's voice was faint, barely a whisper, but Muriel's sharp ears caught every word.
"I'm not going to apologize. I'd gladly do it again, except, Fumiko probably wouldn’t want me to,” Muriel replied, looking down at Dacia with a hard, unfeeling tone. There was not a single trace of regret in her voice.
“Fumiko, the person I was impersonating. Who is she to you?” Dacia's weak voice came out again, filled with curiosity. She wondered why Muriel had reacted so violently just because she took on that particular form.
“A friend,” Muriel answered.
"My only friend. The one thing I could never replace. And you, you pretended to be her. For a human like you, it might be hard to understand, but for someone like me, who’s lived so much longer than any of you, it’s… impossible to describe the feeling.” Muriel began with a trace of true hatred in her voice but it was gone not long after, her voice now filled instead with sorrow.
Dacia stared ahead, feeling a pang of guilt for what she had done. In the arena, no trick was too extreme; Dacia believed that. But she wasn’t sure if Muriel saw it the same way. Dacia acted out of a desire to win the fight, but Muriel responded because she felt like her only friend had been stolen from her. Dacia sat in silence, lost in her thoughts, before slowly, painfully turning to look at Muriel again.
“What was the purpose of all this then? You didn't enter the competition just because you could. You didn't do it for fame. So what was it for?”
“For my little sister,” Muriel met Dacia’s gaze. It was probably the first time that Muriel answered so sincerely to a stranger in a long while.
"I never really understood people with families. Ah, ow," Dacia winced and smiled slightly as she slowly turned her head back. Her neck still ached from Muriel’s chokehold earlier that morning.
"Whatever the case, I just came to make sure you're not dead. If you try something like that again, I really will kill you, with glee," Muriel warned as she stood up from the chair, pointing to the paper bag with the loaf of bread on the table beside the bed.
"And I brought you a bread."
"What are you, an old lady? Bringing bread to a sick person," Dacia quipped, making a slightly scornful face at Muriel’s gesture.
"Believe it or not, I'm older than I look," Muriel replied.
She looked down at Dacia one last time before leaving the room, closing the door behind her. Dacia was left alone, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the room, making her stomach growl. But with both of her arms shattered, she was helpless to reach for the food herself.
"If only she hadn't crushed my arms to pieces…"
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