—Night’s Mansion, Nyctoph Realm—
“And how did you do that?”
“Did what?” Bloom glanced at Night’s face with her eyebrows raised high.
The maid handed Bloom a bag made with scraps of fabric, crude stitches visible on the surface and tens of mismatched colours.
Bloom took the bag and peeked into it. It contained some freshly made bread, a potato dressing and a fermented chilli paste. “You didn’t have to prepare for this.”
The maid smiled, her eyes lit up with genuine affection. “You’re our guest, and as a member of this household, it's my duty to make sure that you can leave comfortably. It's a shame that because of circumstances I haven't done enough, I would like to otherwise.”
Bloom’s eyes softened as she tucked the bag under her arm with care. “Hmm…That's some dedication you have for your work. I will be back, I promise. Not from the backdoor, through those gates, like a proper guest. You can feed me to your heart’s content.”
The maid’s eyes opened wide, and she fiddled with her thumbs, trying to hide her blush with her hair. She uttered a single word, her tone smoldered to a mutter. “Okay.”
Night separated the two females with his hand and dragged his maid behind him. “Hey! I think I asked you about something earlier. And why will you be back? Isn't it enough fun already?”
“About that…” Bloom glanced at the wall behind Night. Sitting atop a shelf was the smiling figure of Paranoidiesis, her red irises shining. “It's a secret.”
“What the? You saw my Dragon Arts just yesterday. You can't tell?” Night folded his arms and clicked his tongue.
Bloom cocked her eyebrow and snickered. “Look at you getting cheeky, huh? No. I’m not trading any secrets anymore.”
“But…”
“It's not a secret worth dying for.”
The conversation died. An awkward silence took over. Bloom stared at him, firm in her stance, and Night stared back. The maid craned her neck and looked at both of their faces in worry. She slowly lifted her hand and dusted the dirt off Night’s shoulder. Night turned his head to her, who pleaded with her hands folded. “Please Lord, just stop.”
Night spoke up first, rolling his eyes. “Whatever.”
Just when he thought Bloom had nothing more to say, her monotonous echoed in the room. “Night, can you promise me something? That olive-green chair outside, near the window…Can you sit by it at least a few hours a day?”
“What?”
Bloom’s eyes roamed, searching the bare walls. “Ridiculous, isn't it? A noble dragon like you lives ten thousand years on average, yet life isn't any boring for you. But it’s lonely in the wrong place, no matter the time.”
“But why? What are you talking about?”
“Just a few hours a day.” Bloom placed her hand on his shoulder. “You’ll know when it's time.”
The Telegate behind Bloom’s back came to life, emanating a light blue colour that filled the room. Night watched as Bloom turned around to face the portal of the Telegate. He said, “I don't know why you told me that, but I’ll try. Also, what’s wrong if we can live up to ten thousand years? If in your eyes we are hung up on life for so long, we are also amused by how your lives burn out as fast as matchsticks.”
Bloom snickered out loud, as if she had heard the most amusing joke of the day. “I never said that when I’m elder to you.”
“Wait, what?”
“Oops, we have no time to chit-chat!” Bloom grabbed a grass sewn conical hat atop on a box and blew on it hard. A puff of dust rushed at Night’s face and by the time he cleared the dust out of his face, Bloom had already stepped into the Telegate. The portal closed without a single goodbye.
She came and went away like a storm. And he didn’t know what to make out of that.
----------------------------------------
—Main Gate, Snow Palace—
It all started with a verbal disagreement. Now that she traced it back to the origin of everything, they deserved it.
Under the bright, scorching Ra of the afternoon, Dragneel had just passed the search and interrogation. The guards at Snow Palace had a protocol for entry and she obliged as per the rules. But that was Dragonix. How could anything proceed so smooth?.
“Where do you think you are going?”
Dragneel turned her head and noticed a pair of legs in her line of sight. She tipped her hat a little and found a humanoid in full armour, from helmet to a pair of sabatons. The structure of the sabatons suggested yet another dragon, and with that heavy spear in hand, chest touching the sky, he smirked as if he had won a war.
She lifted the thatched hat more to make direct eye contact with the guard and said, “I had been summoned by The Great Aide to discuss a deal. I have been searched and interrogated already.”
“Then you must have the entry permit, don’t you?” He narrowed his eyes, disgust on his nose.
Bloom studied his face with skepticism. His very tone was indicative of his boisterous nature, and whichever path she took it would end in flames.
“Hey! The gentleman is a VIP. Also, he’s passed the lie detection test. You aren’t allowed to question him like that!” A familiar voice tickled Dragneel’s ears. She pivoted her neck and recognised the guard who had permitted her entry. “He’s authentic.”
“Shut up, Mr Justice.” Anger dominated his voice. He stared down at both his colleague and Bloom. “And you, hand me the card!”
“Here.” Bloom almost thrust the card into his face, her hands itching to beat the crap out of him.
He took the card and gaped at it. It was a real VIP card with each precious stone in place, the Great Aide’s handwriting in gold. There was no mistake in its authenticity, but...
Dragneel balled her hands when he scanned her clothes and frowned. His expression screamed of—Ugh! Such plain clothes! Who wears a black robe and a thatched hat nowadays? How could such a cheap have a VIP card?
He shifted his gaze to the gates and found no procession accompanying Dragneel. But the card on his palm was real. What did all of that lead to?
“You, boy!” He smacked the card on her hat. “Where did you steal it from?”
Bloom felt the itch again. Stolen? Was that the best accusation he had in store?
“Are you accusing me? I have already passed the lie detection. I was asked my name, the reason for the visit, and authenticity of the VIP card. There’s no reason for you to question me any further.” Her eyes shone sharply under the hat.
“What accuse? You have stolen this card! The Great Aide doesn’t allow some cheap shit with his VIP card!”
Things went south afterwards. He pushed her back by her shoulder, and she took a step back because of the force. Veins popped on his forehead and, with a war cry, he swung his heavy spear at her head.
Bloom caught it inches before her head, backhanded. The guard’s face changed colours when he realised he couldn’t pry out his spear from her clutches.
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Dragneel glared at him. “We can end our disagreement with other measures. Don’t bring in weapons.” She let him retract his spear. “Let’s not disturb him with such petty squabbles.”
The guard took her words for a provocation. “How dare an inferior being disgrace me! Utterly outrageous!”
He lunged at her with his spear.
Dragneel stepped sideways and, as the spearhead passed by her, she stomped on it, transfixing it to the ground. The guard tried to pull up his spear, but she didn’t move a single inch. He watched horrified as the shaft of the spear cracked, sandwiched under her force.
Within seconds, a brutal punch landed on his face, smashing the helmet at the junction of his forehead and eye. He groaned, cradling his face, feeling the broken pieces of the helmet embedded in his face.
Dragneel stood upon the concussed guard, fixing her hat. By now, they had attracted the attention of the other guards on duty. Sabatons clicked against the road as they approached the scene. Their unconscious comrade was injured; and a person hovering over his body. She knew what they were thinking, judging by their faces.
They charged at her.
Bloom punched the first in his face and shoved him into the others. He toppled over because of the weight of his armour and fell on them. And not to her surprise, the guards stood laced with weapons; the majority being spears. They observed her, sizing up to their enemy.
Bloom had lost all interest in diplomacy. She considered his behaviour twice, even after picking up the weapon, for Ryuoketusai's reputation. Now, whoever dared to step up would have the taste of blood.
The first three guards charged in a spear formation. No.1 in the front, and 2 and 3 behind as backup. Bloom tackled the three head-on. She snatched the spear from the guard in front and banged the blunt end of the metal rod on his head.
The guard slumped down on his knees and Bloom used his shoulder as a leverage to jump above the heads of the other two. The spear rotated in her hands and she slapped the duo in the same fashion as their predecessor. It knocked out one of them, while the other lost a few teeth.
The guards assessed the new information rather fast. She was proficient in hand-to-hand combat and they wouldn’t stand a chance against her like that.
So, it came down to magic.
Bloom felt their hesitation, the caution to face her in hand-to-hand combat. So, she spun the spear around her waist and held the shaft of the spear against her ribs. She pointed the tip downwards and put a leg behind to balance herself. “Come, let’s see which dog bites.”
Guard no.4 rushed at her with his spear smouldering red with fire. He swung it in a roundhouse swipe, leaving a trail of fire as aftereffect. Dragneel ducked, her chest grazing the ground. The spear came diagonally down to pierce her shoulder, wisps of flames exuding from the metal edges. Dragneel heard it zipping through the air and deflected it with her spear.
With no.4’s arms displaced and balance disrupted, Bloom knocked him off his feet. He kissed the ground and maybe broke his nose.
The afternoon heat had caught up to her adrenaline, sweat pooling on her waist. Her feet felt the heat radiating into her boots from the cobblestones of the pathway. What a sweaty mess!
Dragneel skimmed over the fallen guards and none of their injuries were fatal, but that didn’t mean none would become fatal. She didn’t wish to hurt Ryuoketusai’s people standing under his jurisdiction in front of his home. So perhaps knocking them out felt enough.
“Don’t attack that lad head-on! He is ingenious. He provoked us to break our discipline.” A man shouted from behind.
Dragneel felt the pressure of Kannu shift. That fresh addition seemed stronger than the others.
“That’s much ruckus for a person,” he said, in clear view.
A fully armoured humanoid trudged along the path and settled in front of the guards. He was huge; compared to him, she only reached his chest. The tan-skinned, scarred man differed from the others, who were cowering at the defeat of their comrades.
“At least someone can use a petty part of his brain,” said Bloom, narrowing her eyes, leaning against the spear.
“Unit six, all squires assemble!” His voice shook them down to the core. “Surround the target!”
The squires quickly produced themselves in neat files and dispersed to block all of her exits.
She utilised that moment of relief to assess her situation. She closed her eyes, ears twitching. Sketches in white flooded her mind with information. Ryuoketusai’s palace stood at one end, behind the last swing gates. Twenty guards held their ground before the gates and two targeted her from behind her back.
Dragneel dragged her feet over the cobblestone path. “What is your name?”
“Captain of Unit seven, Martin Douglas.” He replied with minimal effort in asserting his authority. “Why do you ask?”
“So that I can report you.” She pointed the spear at him, which baffled Martin. “To the Great Aide. If Unit Six belongs to the squires, they aren’t allowed to question visitors, which they did. You broke the rules. I won’t be kind.”
Whatever
Martin raised his hand. “Charge all at once. He shouldn’t proceed!”
Bloom’s eyes shone with mischief, and she started swinging the spear in an unreadable pattern. Her routine felt so ominous even after receiving the command, none dared to move. Every swing, every thrust of her spear had a life-threatening force.
Martin observed his squires with a hard face. He thought about their situation from their perspective. Not a single inexperienced person would love to duel against someone like that. Even with magic.
Martin stepped forward, his spear clashed against cobblestone. “If I request for a duel, will you accept? The winner gets to choose whatever they wish.”
Bloom studied him with a deadpan on her face. He meant it for real! “And why should I? Is this how you’ll treat anyone you see fit? Making assumptions, checking for riches, is that how the system works here? You know what, fine! Let’s duel. My hands are itching to beat the life out of someone. Let it be you!”
Douglas held his long spear mid-shaft, the tip aligned parallel to the space between his eyes. Dragneel placed a foot behind and lowered her body, her left near her ribcage and the right supported the spear up to her face.
Martin smirked. Who in their right mind would leave their back open to get attacked? Even if it was a bait, it accounted for too much damage for the wielder.
He made the first move, his spear with a long thrust. Dragneel deflected the spearhead with a thrust from below. The force was no joke. Martin's arm swung away from its position, leaving his body open to all attacks. Bloom’s spear stopped overhead, her grip changed and as the spear rotated on its axis to accommodate it, a glint of light ran over its edge.
Martin’s eyes opened wide at her reverse grip before it hauled down, aiming for his jugular. He dodged it to the side and countered with a slash of his own. Dragneel pulled back her spear with a little spin that clashed with his spearhead and absorbed the attack.
“Is this the proficiency of a captain? Disappointing.”
Martin clenched his jaw and glared at her. He hopped a few steps back, his spear glowing a bright yellow. Dragneel noticed a few yellow dots on her cloak, contrasting against the dark colour of the cloak.
A cacophony of metal clashing rose in the air. Then began a parry the squires would remember for a lifetime.
Martin lifted his spear to his face and jabbed a strike at Dragneel’s abdomen. When that got deflected, a series of jabs rained down heavily on her body.
Bloom squinted his eyes as each blow grew heavier and the accuracy improved. The astonishing fact was how the tip of the spearhead searched for her body. Just like…a magnet towards iron. It didn’t matter whether it got countered or deflected. The spearhead swung back on her with double weight.
She identified four dots on her body that were potentially attracting the tip of the spearhead—Head, neck, abdomen and shoulder. She missed a few thrusts but her body dodged them, yet the next graze pierced through her cloak over the shoulder. The grass sewn hat toppled over, leaving Martin too stunned to speak.
Scarlet locks untangled from her bun and raced for her waist, glistening under the Ra. He didn’t know it was a female all along.
“Come...” Her voice was frighteningly calm. “I don’t have the whole day.”
Martin gulped. How did he commit such a rookie mistake? He had the upper hand in the parry and ruined it because of an insignificant gender reveal! He looked at her grimy, sweaty figure and her aura exuding a strong bloodlust. How did such a small body pack so much stamina?
He steadied his mind and spear and charged at her.
Bloom didn't just plan to defend herself. The spear rotated on its axis in her hands and she forced it diagonally upwards on the upper left of Martin’s breastplate. As her sheer strength collided with the breastplate, Dragneel conjured a spin over the spearhead, cracking open the plate. She further kicked the shaft, and the breastplate immediately burst open. Martin was now left bare with just the undershirt.
Martin Douglas winced in pain; his mouth hung open but forbade a gasp. While the attack didn't puncture his shoulder, he couldn't breathe.
He momentarily lifted his claw to punch Dragneel at least once in the face. But Dragneel caught it backhanded. She twisted his arm anti-clockwise and broke the gauntlet. Balancing herself on his coiled arm, she kicked him in the face with her heel.
Martin met the grass head first. Blood streamed down as his half bloodied face. His jugular bled profusely, and he panted against the ground. His head ached with the helmet stuck on his forehead, its initial circumference dented.
Dragneel grabbed him by the collar of his undershirt and forced him to look up with the back of her shaft supporting his neck. Martin squinted his eyes at the sunlight. He had the perfect opportunity to punch her or something, but all strength had been drained out long before.
Bloom lifted the butt end of the shaft and said, “I’m knocking you out. Please cooperate.”
Who in the world demanded cooperation from the victim like that?
“Wait!”
Dragneel stopped and turned towards the last swing gates. The squires parted the way and a female in white huffed with each step. Eyes widened with terror, her hand dropped the book she held in her arms and the pages fluttered to a stop.
“What in the world are you doing?” Anger replaced the shock as she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice half-filled with horror and half in anger.
Dragneel didn’t respond. She looked back at the fallen Martin and then at the fair lady, whose silver hair shone in the hue of the setting. Black eyes, silver hair and a pale figure. No way Dragneel didn’t know who that was!
I have seen you, your fifty-four lives, your fifty-five deaths…
“Who are you?” The female questioned Bloom with uncertainty.
Iian, a villain in some, a hero in others. What shall you be in this life?
Dragneel remained silent and offered her hand to Martin. Well, there was no need to knock him out now. Martin took her hand, and she pulled him up. But the whole time, she said nothing. Not a single word of apology.
“She’s Bloom.” A voice boomed behind Iian. She whipped her head and Dragneel knew who it was.
As enigmatic as ever.
“Welcome to Snow Palace, Dragneel Bloom.”