I Alone Breed Dragons

Chapter 47: Back To The Village

The forest lingered silent, dust motes and leaves lazily drifting to the ground from the aftermath of the Severing storm.

Amiko stayed back against the tree. Her breath shallowed. She met my eyes and huffed, "Spare... me?"

I crouched to her eye level. "Yes, you heard me right. I want to know who sent you."

She gave her head faintly. "How would I... believe such nonsense."

"Well, I’m someone who weighs someone’s value. You have information that would be crucial to me. Tell me and you would survive."

"I... won’t. Kill me... now," she rasped in between ragged breaths.

I paused for a better response, but it appeared her mind was already set.

If that’s your wish, then so be it. I pressed my dagger to her throat in one sweep. I yanked her off — her body slumped to the ground, motionless. I observed as blood spread beneath her.

What a squandered opportunity. I was truly prepared to spare her life, as long as she talked. Only an idiotic person who was stabbed clings to grudges against the knife, allowing the wielder to escape.

I’ll find them all.

The dungeon faded, dissolving into the air, as her necromancer magic halted. The timer counting to revive; the Soul Knight halted.

Quinette’s footsteps neared from behind, her wings frozen, angled to fly.

"You killed her." She sighed in relief. "Now we can go home."

I kept my eyes on Amiko. Her skin... flaked — well, her fake layer of skin, which was made of mana — exposing her true nature underneath. The skin seared off; under it, the skin was green.

The burn crept up her horns, her wings vanished. Her scales at the bridge of her nose peeled away. The only thing that stayed the same from the transformation was her hair.

It was still copper.

I immediately identified her from tales I heard when I was young. Green skin, elf-like ears with a pointed nose — their full description before me in the most grotesque way possible.

Goblins. They were just fantasy in the human kingdom, in tales of fairies. They never existed in our world.

Neither did dragons. I pivoted to Quinette; the look on her face revealed it all. Fear, hatred, mingled in her eyes.

They were from their world.

The race which chased the dragons — are goblins.

I routinely viewed goblins as canon fodder, the lowliest race in our fantasy.

Dragons were the strongest, though the way we imagine dragons failed to match the way they manifested.

"Quinette, what do you know about them."

"Yes... I don’t know how to say it."

"Once we return back in the kingdom, you’ll tell me everything. Okay?"

Quinette afterward dipped her head.

The environment completely reshaped, and we weren’t standing in the snow forest — golden sunlight bathed over us. We stood in the heart of a wheat farm, the soft wind sweeping at the plantation, rippling through it.

Amiko’s body had traveled with us, sprawled in the bush of wheat.

"What are we going to do with her?" Quinette inquired. "We can’t leave her body lying here."

"You’re right. If anyone sees, they have to deal with goblins — also the kingdom would be thrown into panic."

Then a voice, not belonging to either of us, answered:

"Leave her to me."

She pushed through the bush of wheat. She extended her hand before her, clad in a dark robe, just like Amiko’s. Her face was shrouded.

I was shocked by her audacity.

She acted with such ease, used a dark sheet to drape on Amiko’s body, enfolding her in it. Her hands were sunburnt, with a single red steel ring.

She lifted Amiko in her hands. "Hope you’re ready." Her voice bore the weight of someone grieving.

Same robe, no mistake — this was Amiko’s accomplice.

"Ready? You have a lot of questions to answer on her behalf." I brandished my dagger. "What am I to your ritual?"

She whirled on her heel, striding the other way, refusing me a response.

I hurled my dagger at her. It curved, targeted at her head.

A shadow gathered at her feet, then she sank into it, taking Amiko with her.

My dagger sliced at the wheat instead, plunging into the ground.

Tsk. They slipped away again. This pattern is already becoming infuriating. If only there were a way to stop someone from escaping.

Wait. There is. A dungeon — domain-like magic that confines the target in it till they vanquish the dungeon boss.

If I could master domain magic, twist the rules, appoint myself the dungeon boss — they could not escape.

Instead, acquire anti-magic artifacts.

Rather, do both.

Still, the woman’s words echoed in my head. Be prepared. For what?

I retrieved my dagger. My body was soaked, utterly drained. My bones might have healed, but mana exhaustion bore down on me. I cast a thorough look around. Down the wheat farm, there was a settlement straight by.

I identified it, even from afar. A smile spread across my lips. My initial anger ebbed.

"Do you have an idea where we are?" Quinette cocked her head, catching the smile on my face.

"Yes, I do. We’re at my village." I hauled myself forward.

Towards the settlement — this farm belonged to a family friend. All this wheat, Romney really poured his back into this.

Just up ahead, my family farm’s demarcation starts. I quickened my steps, praying to find someone there at the farm, and there she was.

A young girl with auburn hair. She had a little basket at her side, wore a sun hat, a cream, simple dress. Her hands toiled in the soil with a mini hoe, harvesting a tuber of potato before placing it into the basket. She muttered while doing so.

I drew near her, near enough, yet she didn’t notice. I crouched to her eye level.

"May."

She stiffened, registering my voice.

"Brother?"

She turned toward me, her eyes huge. "Brother?!"

She lunged to her feet to hug me, then halted, panicked.

"Holy mother of God, what happened to you, you’re hurt, you need a healer. Umm. I need to get you one. How are we going to stop the bleeding. You’re dying. Don’t die on me!"

Her hands moved to soothe but pulled back, fearing to inflict more pain.

"May, I’m fine. The cuts are already healed. They’re just simple scratches."

"Are you sure?"

"I am."

She shed her panic but still kept an anxious gaze at me. I had a lot I wanted to ask — about the village, mother, the life I was sold out of.

Quinette then stepped nearer. She greeted May. "Hello."

May gaped at her vacantly, registering the wings, horns, tail.

A dragon? She flicked her gaze to me, set her face into a frown.

"I should be berating you..." She folded her arms.

"What?" I then glanced over to see Quinette positioned behind me. "It’s a long story."

"So Baran was right. And I called him a liar." May retorted.

"What did Baran tell you?"

"So you really got a dragon pregnant and fled with her. Deserting us."

"Is that what he told you. Don’t believe what Baran tells you. It’s all a lie."

May studied me, then breathed out. Not once did I believe Baran’s words. But seeing her beside me prompted me to suspect otherwise... her voice gentled. "I thought you despised dragons."

"It’s a long story."

My thoughts turned to Baran.

That snake.

After selling me out, this is what he told my family. Feeding them lies.

I tightened my fist.

"May, where’s Baran now?"