Chapter 178: Tragedy

Chapter 178: Tragedy

Two things come to my mind while looking at Marcuss hulking form. For a second, my rage is forgotten.

Number one, wasnt I supposed to fight a Foxman? And if Foxmen exist, are there Foxwomen? Or is Foxman the name of the whole species? Also, how hot are we talking? Like, big fluffy tail plus hot woman body or what? And wasnt I supposed to fight a half-giant too? Are half-giant boobies proportional to their bodies? Look, Im usually relatively uninterested in all this shit, but it would have made it a very interesting experience.

Number two, even if I kill Marcus, arent other [Archmages] still going to kill me? And what am I going to do about Stanimal? He kind of dismissed the fact that I was basically going to fight with a goddamn Dragon, didnt he?

Its weird how clarity hits your ass in these moments. It feels like walking in a dreamscape while awake: everything feels blurred, and the boundaries with reality are blended with the subconscious. In a way, I feel alienated from myself. Its like Im playing myself in a videogame, puppeteering my own life. At some point, you become aware of yourself, and when so many things hit you, you kind of default to auto-pilot. Its hard to exemplify, but just think of the moments in your life when you are going so fast that you dont act like yourself but like the strings that you move within yourself. You dont have time to think things through; you just pull the strings you believe you are supposed to pull. To put it more simply, when life speeds up, you just act like you think you are supposed to.

So, while Im about to fucking die, I realize Im not sure Ive been 100% myself these few days. I probably need a holiday, possibly on a tropical island where the average chest size is three times the Swedish average and yes, before you ask, it is one of the countries that boasts about having the most incredible talent in that field. If I could just put my head between a massive pair of flesh pillows for a couple of days, Im sure that some Freudian super-psyche would finally catch up with me.

And while I stare at the humongous body of my enemy, spiky, slimy, ugly, hulking, I cant help but think of Greek mythology. I mean, dude, when you are about to die, and you have studied tragedy and myths this is it, you know? This is as tragic and mythological as it gets. A big ugly Dragon that wants to kill you after you have spared the heroines life? Thats Lucinda, I think. Well, its very fatalistic. Your aides are frozen, and no one is throwing themselves in harms way? I mean, that hurts, doesnt it? I get it, though. They have to be practical all of them but Stan, really.

It sucks.

What? Looking at the smug Dragon, I realize I might have just missed a critical villain monologue. Admittedly, it was probably very clich, but still. I got a bit lost, didnt I?

I start casting my last ace when shit really starts going down.

And when I say down, its not like shits falling on the floor.

Hell no.

We are talking about shit literally hitting Satans horns in the deepest recess of hell.

Do you remember how I talked about Greek tragedies not even a second ago?

Well, whats happening right now has a specific name in tragedy. It is called