Chapter 40: Dragonlord

Chapter 40: Dragonlord

* * * *

Returning home, my legs felt reinvigorated, but my mood was less so. I was increasingly irked at Lynn's persistent elusiveness, and I found myself swearing off Fedya's forever. Settling into my favorite chair with a glass of brandy, I mused over my predicament.

"Back to the drawing board, Opal."

"We could give it another shot tomorrow."

"My legs can't endure that."

"Right. So, what's the next plan?"

"Not sure. Let me ponder a bit."

As I roamed around my flat contemplating alternatives, buying a long-distance magic spell crossed my mind. However, magic was unreliable and too easy to defend against. For instance, the ring I wore, which cost less than a week's wage, could ward off most magic attacks.

Poison? Too unpredictable unless you're a professional. Dropping a rock on his head seemed tempting, but if unsuccessful, it would tip him off, making my task more difficult.

No, a swift sword thrust was the safest bet; it offered certainty. That implied either sneaking up behind him or catching him off guard. I inspected my dagger, an excellent tool for a knife-fighter. Ideal for slicing or hacking, it could prove fatal against the back of a neck. My rapier, on the other hand, was ideal for stabbing under the chin and into the brain.

Sheathing the knife, I clenched my fists and continued pacing.

"Come up with something, boss?"

"Possibly. Give me a moment to mull it over."

"Sure."

Later, I said, "Alright, Opal, we're going to simplify this. Here's what I need you to do..."

* * * *

Our journey had moments of pure insanity, bouts of uncontrollable laughter.

Just keep moving.

I asked, "How did you figure that out?"

Drevolan barked, "Quiet, Viktor." He then nodded at the Dragonlord, stating, "We're on a mission."

"Living beings do not belong here," the Dragonlord retorted.

"Marya," Drevolan announced.

The corners of the Imperion's mouth twitched. "A Fenghuang," he acknowledged. "An exception indeed."

"Regardless, we are here."

"You may need to present your case to the Arbiters of Afterlife."

"That," responded Drevolan, "is exactly why we're here."

"And you will need to demonstrate your worth."

"Understood," Drevolan affirmed.

"Come again?" I interrupted.

Ignoring me, he continued, "You will be obliged to confront and conquer champions of"

"This has to be some prank," I interrupted again.

"Silence, Viktor," Drevolan ordered.

I resisted, "Why? Can you provide one solid reason why we should battle our way to the Arbiters of Afterlife, only for them to annihilate us for intruding?"

The stranger responded, "We are from the House of the Dragon. We battle because it brings us joy." He flashed me a wicked grin, spun around, and strolled away.

Drevolan and I exchanged glances. He shrugged, and I barely restrained my fist. Looking around, we found ourselves encircled by Dragonlords. I counted a dozen of them. One advanced a step, announced, "D'Verill," and unsheathed her sword.

Drevolan retorted, "D'Lira," drawing his weapon. They exchanged salutes.

I retreated a step, questioning, "Are we certain we can physically interact with them?"