The tavern was nearly full of half-drunken men. The stench of hard work, alcohol, and smoke lingered in the air as a permanent aroma. This tavern was nameless because it didn't need that adornment above the door. It was the only establishment brave enough to reside outside the Ela Desert. Men toiled in the hot sand of Ela for God's Dust all day. This tavern was a place to refuel, refresh, and drink away your earnings in these unhallowed walls.

Usually, the patrons filled the tavern with boisterous laughter, but this dusk, a heavy silence filled the walls, starkly contrasting with the usual joviality. The heavy mood of the patrons, thick with cynicism and regrets, hung in the air like a storm cloud. The murmurs of discontent swelled and ebbed among the tables, a precursor to the eruption that was to come.

One man, overcome with the spirits sloshing in his gut, stood up to brandish his nearly empty pitcher of booze.

"Fuck!" He roared. The man almost fell back on his butt as he then let loose a torrent of emotions wrapped up in pained jumbled words.

The other patrons ignored him as his seatmates tried to get him to sit down.

The drunk man struggled until he was free of his friends, but before he could yell again, amber liquid rained into his pitcher from above.

He looked up and met the lone black eye of a man whose cloak cast long shadows over his face. The shadows momentarily let up on his face as he pulled away from pouring. A black eye patch on his other eye worried the drunken man.

"You look like you need more to drink." The man's accented rasp made the drunken man wary. He wasn't alone in that regard. The Habrinon accent set off raw nerves in every other man present. Whether they knew it or not, they shifted in their seats, and some turned to face the Habrin man rather than have their back to him.

Habrin men were notorious for their blood lust, savagery, and fighting skills. Liqueur only oiled them up during their killing sprees.

"You can't step into Ela, so why are you here?" The drunken man with a free refill said.

"Why can't I?" The other man with the Habrinon accent said.

"Because they shut it down. No one can go in with the silver menace at the helm. That Beyza fed the curses with some damn magic. No one can dig for God's Dust...if you're a spy for Emperor Kaan, go tell him that." A different man said. He had several scars on his body that bore the heavy weight of his labor.

Another man, with the weight of his woes, said, "We're not late on delivery because we want to be. Half of our force has died due to the damned desert and that bitch."

"Silver menace?" The man with an eyepatch said; there was a twang of humor in his voice.

Many disgruntled voices and shuffling of feet almost swallowed up his question as ire distracted the drunks from the Habrin man.

"Something bit me!" A man shouted as he drew his blade and stabbed at the floor in a drunken fury.

"Me too!" Another man said.

The man with an eyepatch sighed, and his black eye looked at the dirty ground for the perpetrator.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

"Acuzio!" He shouted, and something large and black scurried over to him.

Various sharp and blunt objects were thrown at the shiny beast. It managed to dodge or withstand anything hurled at it by unstoppingly darting forward.

"What is that thing?" A man said at the dog-sized lizard. "It burned the floor!"

It was a little late for most men with alcohol-colored orbs to notice, but each step Acuzio had taken scorched the floor. The shuffling of air fanned the wisps of flames as men dispersed. Several small fires broke out and quickly ate up the wooden tables and floor.

The cause of the chaos was chewing on suspiciously wet meat as it watched the fear create mayhem.

"You couldn't help but cause trouble." The man with an eyepatch said as he joined the beast in watching the drunk men struggle to put out the flames.

"I needed extra seasoning for my meal, Red," Acuzio said with his impossibly deep timbre.

"Well, finish up. We need to enter Ela and catch up with Merin." Red said. He had heard whispers and rumors as he had taken the long trip to reach her. His trials with the Phoenix God had swallowed up decades. Red hadn't had time to unpack his strenuous torture when the cantankerous God ditched him in Ceren. That was when Red discovered only months had passed since his departure from his original world.

The world had changed in his absence.

Habrin was in the middle of a war as it battled the countries trying to regain their independence.

His father had executed Akkad officially, but Red suspected darker methods of elimination for his half-brother. The Habrin soldiers supported his theory because they retained their magic even with the cessation of God's Dust.

The royal blood pulsing through every Rutilus was rich in dormant magic, even with the curse muting their innate magic. It's the only reason the Emperor told Red to stop murdering his brothers. There was no way the man cared for his sons enough to want them to live. But Emperor Kaan wishes to profit from their deaths.

A prince was a tremendous contingency plan for their father to sacrifice.

Luckily, Merin did as Red knew she would and dipped when Mordecai whisked Acuzio and himself away. Their daughter Alev would empower the Emperor more than Red's rotten brothers could, thanks to Merin's unique bloodline.

"Hold up."

Several men had sobered up due to the chaos and stood in Red's path as he tried to leave the tavern.

"He's the master of that beast! He's trying to kill us!" Another man shouted.

The vengeful, bitter eyes of over two dozen men turned on Red.

Red curled his lip as he felt their fury shift towards his person. "I'll only warn you once. Leave me alone." Red said as he used his free eye to stare down every man within his peripheral.

It was then that he noticed that Acuzio had slipped away in the chaos. He was several feet away now, munching on meat and watching him with bright eyes.

Red internally swore at the prick dragon, who wasn't much better than Mordecai. Both of them were barely varying agents of chaos.

"He should be taught a lesson."

Those words perked up Red's ears, and he let out a long sigh as he heard it repeated by several other men.

He would have to greet Merin with the scent of iron yet again.

Red didn't bother dodging the first strike from the brave man who attacked first. Instead, he watched and waited to see all of his attackers.

When the blade was about to pierce his flesh, he finally lifted a hand carelessly and, like a magnet, attached every warm-bodied man to each other. They looked like one of the strange creatures he'd met during his journeys. The only difference was that the eyes lay between the wriggling mass of limbs, not on heads.

"I warned you," Red said with a hoarse voice. His mouth was dry as his bloodlust for murder controlled his actions. And he knew without a doubt that under his eye patch, his eye glowed red.

The sky had darkened further before Acuzio and Red emerged from the broken tavern. Aside from the owner and barmaids, no soul was left in the once-stuffed establishment. The remaining poor souls were huddled under tables.

Red inhaled the crisp fresh air. He was pleased that the heavy scent of blood was finally free from his nostrils. He could finally calm down with it no longer teasing him into yearning.

"You didn't have to clean up everything," Acuzio said with a grumble. "You could have left some meat for me."

Red shot the dragon a look, "It was the least I could do for the workers. Blood is a hassle to clean." He said.

"Liar. You enjoy absorption." Acuzio said.

Red ignored the dragon and hopped on his camel that was waiting for him. He needed to cross the desert with no more delays. Red knew that trouble followed Acuzio, so that plan would likely fail. But he had to try. He had a lot to make up for with his absence.