She definitely knew this was a possibility.
No tears fell and Arnold couldn’t hear any whimpering or sniffling.
“But would you like to meet him?”
“E… Eh?”
“Your master is… let’s say in an unfortunate situation that he can’t control.”
“Death…?”
Of course she would ask this. Arnold had said “he’s gone”, after all.
“You can put it that way.” He replied.
“How do you know what happened to him!?” Flora jumped up, causing violent waves to interrupt the once quiet and gentle pool of naturally-hot water, “Answer me!”
Flora yelled.
“Your intimidating glare might work on others but it won’t work on me.” Arnold stood up. He was a head and a half taller than Flora.
Flora subconsciously took a step back seeing his cold blue eyes. His body, riddled with deep scars both fresh and old, exuded pressure and power that no normal human could hope to achieve unless they face danger many times over and survived it.
“…Who the hell are you… Why do you know so many things? Are you even human!?” Flora then shot back at him a little weaker than before.
“I wouldn’t call myself human anymore…” Arnold looked at his reflection in the water. Dead blue eyes stared back at him. He could almost picture a demon and dragon taking both halves of his body, creating a disfigured something that defied all common sense.
“I might tell you someday. It’s something no one else knows and I plan on keeping it that way unless you’re someone I can actually trust. But you can always try beating it out of me. That’s how you do things, isn’t it Flora?”
He wasn’t being serious but he was being cautious about what she’ll do just in case. He didn’t have his sword right now so there was a low chance of him surviving against her. She had superior physical strength on her side while he had his agility and combat experience to his advantage. Also, his right arm being numb was a disadvantage at his side.
Flora’s hands fell to her waist. With her eyes staring hopelessly into the water, she asked quietly:
“Then… at least tell me where my master is… I won’t bother you anymore if you just tell me…”
“I won’t tell you.”
“WHY!? Why!?” Flora grabbed both his shoulders and screamed in his face. If he were any normal person then he would’ve passed out from the amount of killing intent she was releasing. Since there was no “Death Flag” announcement, he concluded that she wouldn’t actually mean to harm him in any way. Flora wasn’t a killing machine, after all.
Arnold replied calmly.
“You’ll disregard all reason and charge into the middle of your enemies and slaughter as many as you can thinking that will make them tell you what you want. Your only redeeming quality is your strength—if you exclude your beauty—but it can turn into your weakness that will get you killed down the line.” Arnold didn’t even flinch at Flora strengthening her grip on his shoulders, “I don’t know your master personally but considering how you look up to him, he must’ve been a wise and strong person. He would’ve wanted you to prepare yourself before even thinking of going to save him.”
Arnold put his hand on her cheek. Her glare slowly lots its ferocity.
“It doesn’t matter what I tell you now or what you’re telling yourself right now in your head, you’ll still end up doing the same thing. You will lose your life. Luke will lose his master. I’ll…” Arnold thought of how to say his next words, “…lose a very important friend.”
“Flora.”
“….”
“Look at me.”
She slowly looked up.
While staring into her deep honey brown eyes, he said clearly:
“I can help you save your master.”
“….” Her eyes shook.
“But I will also be the judge to determine that you are ready to face the challenges ahead.”
A sparkle swept over her honey-colored eyes like a shooting star as they widened wordlessly.
“Let’s leave the discussion at this. Just continue on with your life as you have until now. While not a strict requirement, you must continue on the journey to find a way to become one with your sword. That’s what your master wants. I’ll be watching you from afar in the meantime. When the time comes, I will come to you and we’ll save your master. Until then,” his finger tapped Flora’s chest—the same area where her slave mark used to be, “You belong to me.”
‘Hm, the way I said that was weird.’ He meant to say “you’ll be there when I need you too. No excuses.” but was caught up in the moment.
Flora lowered her head wordlessly again.
Arnold could see her ears turn red.
Bracing himself to be punched in the face for spouting bullshit again, he closed his eyes (he would be able to catch her punch anyway).
“If… If I’m to become yours…” Flora’s small voice reached his ears as he opened his eyes in mild surprise (at the punch that never came), “Don’t expect me to sleep with you.”
“An odd thing to say… but I understand.”
“I’ll be there when you need me—as your sword.”
Arnold nodded.
“If it comes down to it, I’ll lay down my life to save you.”
“What a dangerous thing to say. Are you prepared for something like that when you aren’t even ready to save your master?”
“If you’re the kind of person I think you are—”
“And what kind of person would that be?” he interrupted her.
“A man who can even make the gods kneel.”
This made Arnold knit his brows, unsure of what she meant but she didn’t elaborate to make him understand.
“If you’re that kind of person then there must be a way for you to bring me back to life. A way only you know of.”
◊◊
After their pledge (?) concluded, the two spend the rest of the evening silently drinking, with Flora consuming the most wine. Well, they had some small talk but nothing that was worth mentioning. Arnold wanted to ask her about her past and how she met her master but knew she wanted to avoid thinking about the topic. It was probably a topic she wanted to share if her master was also present.
Or maybe one day, the two of them can sit around a campfire and talk about her past.
Flora fell asleep soon after she drank two bottles on her own. Arnold was unsure if she just wanted to drown her worries in alcohol. Maybe this wouldn’t have happened if she wasn’t reminded of her master.
‘That bastard Oriel. He’s the reason for her ending up like this.’ If the two didn’t meet then she wouldn’t have acted like she did earlier. It was like he was seeing a whole other side of Flora. Flora became something of an emotionless soldier in the game if players chose not to complete her storyline.
Arnold will now to have to finish that storyline to get her as an ally for future quests (the Yorm and Hiisi Elder questlines specifically). He didn’t expect things to turn out this way but was glad it did.
He’ll set her quest aside for now. Ladiath and Elizabeth’s questline takes priority. The system seemed to have acknowledged this as well since Flora's quest didn't pop up.
…
The camp was silent by the time he got back and while the fires were still burning, there was no one around them. It appears everyone was sleeping (except for the recon team, though).
Arnold was carrying the snoozing Flora.
No one would believe him if he said that this sleeping beauty will one day become the strongest swordsman in existence, an existence that even terrified the demon lords.
Arnold had used the scrolls he bought from the skeleton merchant to cast a simple spell that dried both of them off. What a waste, he had thought when he used them but it couldn’t be helped. He never found other opportunities to use them. To him, First to Fourth-Rank spells were garbage. He was looking forward for the merchant’s second batch (he said that he’ll have better scrolls in stock, after all).
Arnold carried Flora over to her tent and laid her down on the sleeping bag. The tent was fairly large and looked expensive (not to mention very tidy) so this was definitely not something she bought since she was the kind of person who values functionality over appearance. Meaning she’d sleep on a simple straw bed over a sleeping bag.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
‘Hmm, this perfume. I’ve only smelled this coming from Anais… So, this is Anais’ tent.’
He only guessed this was her tent because it was the only one not occupied by someone, besides Sabrina’s of course.
Anais was probably sharing a tent with one of her friends.
Arnold managed to get Flora onto the sleeping bag.
When trying to leave the tent he felt her gripping his arm.
“Mmm…” She was still asleep while spread-eagle.
‘What the hell is with this grip strength… I pity this woman’s future husband. She might crush him to death in her sleep.’
While he could easily remove her hand, doing so will wake her up since he’d need to use a bit of force. An enraged, sleepy and drunk Flora is something he didn’t want to deal with.
While thinking so, he “reluctantly” laid next to her. Her beautiful face was right in front of his.
‘To think this woman can look this beautiful if she just stops shouting expletives whenever she opens her mouth…’ while having that comical thought, he slowly closed his eyes.
Arnold suddenly heard a whimper coming from Flora. He looked over and noticed her tears falling as her mouth trembled.
He could hear a faint “Master” in-between her sobs.
He stroked her head, letting his fingers run through her green hair. She drew her head closer.
Is she even asleep, he thought while looking at her peaceful sleeping expression.
Her tears had stopped flowing and he could hear her quiet breathing again.
It was nice to have company while he slept, a space previously occupied by Rafaela.
Rafaela’s face was all he could think off before he drifted off to sleep.
***
“We are once again graced by each other’s presence.” A sarcastically deep voice rang out in a deep abyss, inhabited only by low hums that almost resemble a church choir but that was just one’s mind playing tricks to make you feel less alone.
When in a constant never-ending cycle of isolation, one’s mind starts to adept to the conditions surrounding isolation. It begins replacing the sounds around you with voices to comfort you. You could be asleep in the middle of a vast forest where not even a cricket would be present and still hear a faint voice singing in a voice that you can’t make out. If you’re soothed by a mature woman’s gentle voice then that is what you will hear, which will bring a sense of calmness and warmth. If you’re soothed by a man’s powerful and deep voice then you will hear war cries and grunts in the dark abyss, bringing relief and making you feel safe.
Whichever voices the two souls facing each other needed the most, it didn’t matter since both are beings beyond comprehension. Even the voices meant to soothe one’s soul would be scared away by their might.
An equally deep voice answered the first voice: “You are a crafty pig, filthy demon. You have been watching the boy’s soul closely to detect any vulnerabilities, haven’t you? If I allowed you to stay out there any longer, you may have increased the blight inflicted upon his will and soul caused by your power.”
The demon the deep voice referred to was a titan easily measuring twenty meters in length with great horns that seemed sharp enough to pierce heaven itself, thick log-like arms brimming with overwhelming power and a sculpted body that humans usually associated with their gods. His eyes were reminiscent of a volcano that had been waiting 250 years to erupt.
“I suppose if you could do it before then you would again.” the other speaker was a larger figure with majestic wings that stretched four kilometers in total, a body that could stretch through the entire capital of Toril in the Eulia Empire, and a head that was twice the size of the demon. Both were titans by appearance but it there was an uncertainty over how powerful these two actually are.
Both were hailed as the strongest of their respective race and were certainly the strongest beings in existence, on a plane close to gods but had never confronted each other to claim the title of strongest.
Why would the strong need to claim such a title? After reaching the pinnacle of their species, they had lost interest in proving themselves to others. It would’ve really just ended up with them either destroying an entire continent (if not a world if they used their strongest attacks) which was unnecessary.
One was reluctant to use his full power in consideration for the mortals while the other was just reluctant to kill future slaves. If he becomes the true king then he will surely enslave all mortals, something that should not be allowed happen.
The dragon would make sure of it. He and his kin were hailed as the strongest and swore to the gods that they would protect humanity and become the gods of the mortal realms.
“By taking control of his body, you have further tainted his soul. That is something I will not overlook once I am reincarnated.”
“Reincarnated? You do not wish to use the boy’s body even though he is already dragonborn?” Ignoring the dragon’s blatant threat, the demon asked.
“While I yearn to smell fresh air again, I do not think the boy can handle my power. Until I find a way to condense my power into smaller fragments that I can control like the limbs of my body and the tips of my wings, I will not attempt to control his body.”
It was all consideration for the one whose body he had inhabited for 17 years. He had died 50 years ago in a battle against the "Six Swords Testament of the Theocracy" that had cost them both their lives. Naturally, the human was the first to perish, succumbing to the dragon's powerful magic. The dragon, having lived for nearly 200 000 years, was already in the "dying" stage of his species, weakening him which is why even a human could match him in power. At this stage, dragons are given the option to reincarnate—a blessing bestowed upon them by the Dragon God before his death.
Thinking back now, maybe reincarnating was his best option at the time instead of accepting his death and drifting through the void as a soul for 33 years.
‘What a fool I was for accepting that human’s challenge to test if he was truly the strongest human in existence.’
Well, it was over. One thing bothered the dragon though: why was that human still alive even though the dragon was certain that he perished?
‘The Theocracy is truly a nation that should not exist.’
He earnestly thought so. They managed to obtain a forbidden grimoire that allowed them to use forceful teleportation—an invasive magic of sorts—on another being (something current-day teleportation magic isn’t capable of). Maybe one of the spells inside that grimoire was a revival spell? But that wouldn’t make sense since the magic the dragon used was capable of destroying one’s soul completely. There would’ve been no way for him to retain his memories and remember that he was a faithful servant of the Theocracy.
Another possibility lingered in the back of his mind. Was the version of him that’s alive actually just undead? Perhaps the Theocracy implanted memories in him to make him a loyal servant again. His strength was something they couldn’t afford to lose so it wouldn’t be surprising if they went this far.
The dragon’s thoughts were interrupted by the demon.
“I am curious, Dragon. Do you like being reduced to only a soul bound to a mortal’s body?”
“…It is certainly not pleasant being inside such a small and weak body which does not live up to its true potential. But I have a feeling I won’t have to wait long to be free from this prison.” The dragon closed its mighty blue eyes.
It has only been 50 years since that faithful battle and 17 years since my soul ended up in this boy but feels like it’s been a century, he muttered something the demon couldn’t hear.
“Oh? Why is that?”
“You said it earlier, did you not? He is part dragon which means he has the potential to control the souls of his species, a power only dragonborn are gifted with. Dragonborn like the Taelith Family can absorb the souls of dragons to obtain their abilities. They can also give those souls to other dragons, like the Ancient Dragon, who the head of the household tamed decades ago, making it stronger the more souls it consumes.”
The Taelith were probably trying to turn the Ancient Dragon into a Lord.
'Kukuku, such a thing will never come to pass.' thought the dragon in amusement.
“You are hoping the boy can use his abilities to put your soul in another being?”
“Indeed. It does not matter if it’s a human or another dragon, male or female. I only wish to be free.” His power would awaken regardless but the new host for his body needs to be humanoid or a dragon.
“You are confident he can do it?”
“I am. He is part me, after all.”
A strange but very arrogant thing to say but this was coming from a being who once stepped in the boundaries of gods.
The demon folded its arms while staring up at the dragon.
“He was ordered to kill your kin and give its soul to another. What is your opinion on this?”
“I do not have one at all. If that is what it takes for him to learn [Soul Bending] then I will not stop him.”
“Why do you not just let him test this power on smaller species?”
“A dragon’s soul becomes more difficult to bend depending on which species you are targeting. Wild dragons are the weakest of our race. They are the mix between wyverns and ordinary dragons evident by the bizarre discolored stripes their species occasionally are born with. These dragons’ souls will be the easiest to control but are a far cry from what it takes to control Ancients and Lords.”
“Hmm.”
“If my other comrades knew about his ability and were in my position then they will understand why one of our own must die.”
“Suar’s soul will be misused by the one who requested it.”
Another Soul Bender but not a dragonborn, thought the dragon in disgust. Another one of the Progenitor’s puppets, perhaps. How else could he obtain such power?
“I do not care.” Alas, that was his honest opinion.
“You do not care what happens to the divine realm?”
“I would not say it is a threat meant to destroy the divine realm. I don’t think that personage would be able to do it even if he wanted to. It is merely a mother-and-son quarrel.”
This made the demon laugh.
“A quarrel that will result in the deaths of demigods! Ha ha ha ha ha!”
“It is so. But there is nothing I can do.”
The demigods dying won’t be the deciding factor of the divine realm perishing. Something like the World Tree dying out alongside the Mother of Nature, who connects all realms together, will be the divine realm’s downfall. Every living thing will succumb to the destruction of Ragnarok.
“You are uncaring of the gods. What would your father think if he found out his first son chooses the lives of mortals over gods?”
“I took a pledge to protect mortals, not gods.”
“I didn’t think the pledge meant abandoning the very gods who created you.” The demon cackled.
“I did not abandon them. I am merely choosing the weaker beings over the all-powerful.”
Must I repeat this every time, thought the dragon with a sigh.
“I see. Is this why you cannot stand demons? We seek to enslave mortals, after all.”
“No, your race must be purged regardless of your actions. You do not deserve to live. None of you do, even the kindest of demons.”
The demon merely cackled, “Well, we can be at each other’s throats all day but I need to observe the boy’s soul.” the demon levitated and cast his gaze over to a light coming from a certain distance—the manifestation of a soul.
“Oriel,” the dragon’s voice was filled with overwhelming pressure, “You will not escape your fate once I leave. You can run back to your world and become its king but I will destroy you if you set foot in the mortal world again.”
Arnold’s body wasn’t yet strong enough to withstand [Synchronization] which will allow communication between souls. That is how Oriel had been able to communicate with him before. But this was due to Arnold’s soul being corrupted by Oriel’s demon energy due to overuse of the factor.
If only I can establish communication…
He had hope that Arnold will be able to figure out on his own that he can remove the dragon soul inside his body. This will be made clear to him once—no, if he can defeat Suar and obtain his divine soul.
There was no certainty that Arnold can defeat a Lord.
“Kukuku.” The demon merely laughed, “Once I completely consume his body by enticing him to use my power once tragedy befalls him, you will be the first to perish, dragon.”
Ignoring the cold eyes being directed at him, Oriel flew towards the bright light in the distance.
The dragon looked at that light. It was half consumed by a dark and eerie shadow.
“You do not deserve to be the plaything of fate.” He thought while the boy’s face appeared in his mind, “No one does. I was a selfish being in my previous life because I commanded power that none could hope to match, not even the Demon King or the Archmage, thus I was uncaring to individual lives. I thought they should be grateful for salvation even at the expense of their livelihoods, loss of loved ones and even great injury afflicted upon them. To me, salvation was being alive no matter the suffering endured and the pain others experienced. Perhaps that was not the right mindset to have. Instead of trying to fight the manifestations of evil that threatened the human race, I should’ve sought out fate and challenged it. Only then could salvation truly be achieved.”
The dragon lowered its large head after it said those words to no one in particular. It sighed deeply and went to sleep once again, wishing that he could be free to truly strive to bring happiness to others using its power.
Did his death change him? He thought so.
And if that was the case then—
I’m glad we met, Justice.
With that thought in mind, he drifted into deep sleep once again.