A GOD, A DRAGON AND A BOY
Beneath a small, rundown house stood a spanning garden of flowers and ponds. Fenced off roughly, it emitted life of its own, drawing scenery akin to those in fantastic paintings. Currently, throughout the garden, laughter of children chimed like choir, with occasional dog’s bark breaking up the rhythm. Leaning against a thick pole where the garden bordered the house was a woman in her early twenties, dressed commonly and ordinarily, a red cloth wrapped around her silky hair, tying it backwards.
She gazed at the fourteen kids before her in silence, her lips curled up in a gentle and caring smile. Much like these kids, Ruela grew up without her parents – or any family to speak of, really. Abandoned at the doorsteps of a Church, she never knew true kinship. The only reason she ever trained to become Magus was exactly for this reason – to found an orphanage where children like her would be able to grow up as all children should.
A moment later, she heard a faint chime of a bell, causing her expression to distort and a sigh to escape her lips. Turning around, she walked back into a rundown house as the floor beneath creaked. When she reached the other end, she saw two familiar faces – a youth slightly younger than her, donning beautiful garments, and an elderly man wearing full plate armor.
“Lord Quasac, how can I help you?” Ruela asked as politely as she could.
“Did you consider my offer?” the youth asked, his expression that of indifference.
“I’m afraid I cannot sell you this place,” Ruela said. “Children would have nowhere else to live.”
“So? They’re just filthy commoners,” the youth scoffed. “Whether they live or die, who cares? My offer wasn’t in regards of you selling this place or not, but of price.”
“… s-still,” Ruela squeezed the words politely, corners of her eyes twitching. “There are many free plots of land, my Lord. If you wish, I can even help you--”
“Are you deaf, woman?!” the youth screamed out, his voice cracking halfway through. “The only reason I’m even bothering to ask is because I respect your Master! However, respect can only go so far if you keep pissing in my face!! My offer of ten thousand Mana Stones just went down to Five Thousand!! Every sentence you speak that’s not ‘I will sell it’ will reduce that number further!!” Ruela stared emptily at the youth before her; this was the third time he came here. Were he to promise to build something useful, Ruela would perhaps even try to relocate the orphanage. However, he just wants another warehouse to store his treasures in.
“…” she remained silent for a moment, glancing between the armored man and the youth.
“Don’t get any ideas,” the armored man said in a hoarse voice. “Respect your life.”
“… I will not sell this place,” Ruela said in the end. “And, the same way you ‘politely’ asked me, I’ll do the same: never bother us again. That is all.”
“… your stubbornness will cost you your life, lass,” the youth snorted coldly as he turned around and left. “Think later whether the talentless, parentless scum were worth it.”
With that threat, both the youth and the armored man left. Ruela sighed softly, shaking her head; she knew that, the next time he comes here, it won’t be just a single armored guard. Although they wouldn’t dare do anything to her personally – considering who her Master was and how powerful she was – this place, and the children, were another story entirely. If Ruela were to retaliate, they’d have a reason enough to confine her.
Knowing that he’d be back soon, Ruela quickly sent a messenger to her Master and all the friends she believed were nearby, imploring them to help her. With that taken care of, she put all children to sleep with gentle Magic and locked them into the basement of the small house, stepping outside shortly afterwards and sitting down cross-legged in front of the doors, waiting.
The street was lined with similar houses left and right, but all were empty at the moment, as though they knew something was about to happen. Ruela didn’t blame them; after all, the only people who lived here were commoners. Which of them would dare to even utter a word to a Lord, let alone raise arms against him?
As sun slowly neared the end of its cascade down the horizon, Ruela heard faint gallops of hooves and sounds of footsteps approaching. Looking right, down toward the end of the street, she saw a small-sized army. Inspecting it closely with her Magic, she counted nearly five hundred people. Sighing, she finally got up onto her feet and stepped out, facing them directly, not an ounce of fear on her face.
The small army paused several dozen step away from her, at its helm the same youth, grinning toward her. She stood opposite of nearly five hundred armed men, yet she didn’t even hold a weapon. Even though a Magus, everyone here was fairly certain she’s the most ordinary type, as she wasn’t out in the world, training and adventuring.
“Last chance,” the youth said coldly. “Take those children and leave. I promise I won’t harm either you or them.”
“…” ignoring the youth, Ruela took a deep breath and moved Mana throughout her body, coating it in gentle stream which emitted light, blue sheen. Seeing this, the men across from her quickly entered separate formations and faced her, as the youth slowly mingled back toward the end of the convoy. A mere battle shout later, and two sides dove toward one another.
* * *
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Staring at the endless stream of darkness, Ruela couldn’t help but feel a certain dread. Stork was already going almost all-out in an attempt to harm the beast, yet it seems all his efforts were in vain. Not only that, but it also appeared as though the Dragon was getting stronger and stronger as the time passed by.
Glancing around the battlefield, she realized nobody was able to come and help them; Sorth was forced to completely transform, yet still looked to be losing. Hylana was currently heavily injured and being helped by Grath. All others were tangled in their own battles. And, although she couldn’t see that far up, she was certain that High Fathers were battling their own foes.
Shaking her head lightly, she focused back onto supporting Stork. As he focused solely on offense, he left a lot of blind spots in his stances. His flanks and rear were constantly besieged by shadows, and it was up to Ruela to repel them. What worried her the most, though, was that the Dragon – since the very beginning – only used a single type of the attack. Was he unable to use anything else at the moment? Or was he just holding back, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike back at full?
As she repelled yet another wave of shadows, she noticed that the gigantic body composed solely of edgeless darkness moved backwards, as the two suns suddenly vanished within. The darkness thumped, as though it turned into a living and beating heart, as parts of it bulged like bubbles. Realizing that something was amiss, Ruela quickly grabbed Stork’s coat and pulled him backwards as she took further up the sky.
Feeling indescribable presence beneath her, she glanced back as her heart stopped for a moment. The bulged parts exploded into devouring mass, taking up to the sky. Shapes of darkness numbered in millions, some as small as insects, and some as large as mountains. They spread far and wide as they tried to encircle them, causing space itself to lock away. Dread washed over Ruela, as Stork suddenly came to a halt, pulling her with him.
“What’s wrong?! We have to escape!!” Ruela exclaimed.
“Escape? To hell with that,” Stork spat out a mouthful of blood. “We have to break through.”
“Huh?!”
“This is a feint,” Stork said. “He definitely didn’t recover enough to use this attack normally. He’s just trying to buy enough time, which means I was pressuring him enough he felt threatened.”
“And if you’re wrong?”
“Then we die,” Stork said plainly, brandishing his greatsword tightly. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid of death, Ruela?”
“… well, we definitely can’t escape anymore,” Ruela said, sighing. “Besides, situation of others doesn’t look that good. We need to hasten our part of the job.”
“Well said,” Stork said, grinning. “Now, let’s beat back this shitty darkness already. It’s starting to piss me off.”
Meanwhile, further up the sky, Lynne was currently witnessing a phenomena that can only be classified as a worldly catastrophe. Enshrouded in darkness, bolts of azure lightning blinked in and out of existence, coiling around the short, old man like serpents. Hundreds, thousands, millions… numbers reaching the point where it ceased to matter.
Inhaling deeply, he grabbed onto the shaft of the scythe tightly as he straightened his back. Feeling the heat pierce the soles of his feet, he grinned for a moment before both sides erupted with power.
Lightnings crashed down toward the gigantic body of a Dragon – and Lynne himself – like pouring rain. Some as thin as needles, some as thick as tree’s trunk. At the same time, Dragon’s body turned aglow in crimson, flames erupting like volcanoes as they doused the surrounding darkness in light. It rained azure and crimson throughout the sky, causing explosions powerful enough to bury an entire city down to the last pebble.
Just as a massive lightning bolt was about to strike Lynne, his body blurred for a moment before turning into shadows, moving backwards and materializing on Dragon’s back. The bolt bounced off the Dragon’s neck and back into the sky, exploding further up. Cold sweat broke out of Lynne’s forehead; if that hit him, he would have died.
Gritting his teeth, he let go of the scythe as it materialized above him, crying out like a song of the ten thousand dying children. Gathering the stray flames of the Dragon, the scythe was quickly wreathed in crimson; by Lynne’s will, the crimson flames were devoured and filtered out, turning completely white.
“Linger~” Lynne mumbled, paying close attention to lightning bolts aimed at him. “Skyfire Reaping – Devour.”
For the past five months, he underwent excruciating training under the Dragon’s watch. During it, he had modified most of the stances and techniques of Empyrean Scything to suit him better – one of which was the first technique he ever learned.
Cutting through the space itself, scythe downed and clashed against hundreds of bolts, corroding them away as its flames slowly waned. The Dragon whipped its wings and moved, continuously spitting out flames in massive streams, as the old man danced with lightning, invisible to a naked eye. Bolts poured down onto the scythe, continuously weakening it. As the last spark of white flames surrounding it vanished, the scythe cried out and created a massive gravitational field around it, pulling all flames and lightning bolts toward it and devouring them en masse.
“Oi, you think you can battle this bastard?!” Lynne asked inside his mind.
“You scared?” the familiar, childlike voice replied.
“Of course I am, moron!! One hit, and I’m dead! And in case you didn’t notice, there’s literally millions of bolts trying to kill me!! Besides, you don’t have to defeat him, just keep him busy until I clean things up down below and get reinforcements.”
“Alright, alright,” the child replied as Lynne’s body glowed crimson for a moment, spitting out blood afterwards into a massive shape. “I can promise you ten minutes at most. Although we’re both Gods technically, it’s like an Empyrean Child trying to battle Divine Magus.”
“Holy shit you’re weak.”
“When compared to him, at least. Alright, go. I’ll cover for you.”
“I owe you one.”
“You owe me plenty.”
Nodding silently, Lynne waited for an opportunity; it came the moment Sanguine God’s body was completed. Deep scarlet, it stood massive – yet still seemed like an ant when compared to Dragon flying below. Lynne quickly turned his body into a shadow and dove down the Dragon’s side, free falling quickly as explosions above him continued to erupt and send space into massive turmoil, opening vortexes left and right, causing its very fabric to splinter. Well, my Dragon Riding days are over, Lynne thought, smiling bitterly mid-air. Let’s survive first, though. I wonder how Y’se is doing…