“Master Jogid, do we need more guards?”
“It’ll be fine. She is strong, but it’ll take her a while to get back to full strength.”
Shagal opened her eyes to the sound of voices. She was warm and comfortable. Her body ached, but it did not hurt.
She could breathe comfortably again, but she couldn’t move. Not that she wanted to. This was the longest rest she’d had in the longest time.
“Why are you in Calmo village?” the dragonfolk asked her, as he set a bowl of soup by her bed. “You muttered the name, Kaito? What did you mean by that?”
Shagal took a breath.
“I need to see Kaito. Must warn him of the elf—also the king...he is...” The dragonfolk’s scales wrinkled around his face, clearly she had piqued his interest. “...the king is deranged; he’s obsessed with the Master and will stop at nothing until he finds him. I know the Master is in no danger, for I have witnessed his might. But this village will not survive the king’s delusions. The elf has wrath in his eyes, Calmo will fall to those eyes, and Zenith, I need to save her.” She explained.
The dragon tilted his head and the strange bug creatures stepped back.
“You’ve raised serious allegations, ones we cannot simply overlook, and they naturally make us cautious about your intentions. However, you seem reasonable, I’m sure you can understand our position. Right? Or will you cause us problems?”
“I understand, Do what you must. But please get my message to Master Kaito.”
She closed her eyes and assessed her body. All mana points had been cleared, IDM flowed freely through them. There wasn’t a trace of the matriarch’s poison left. Even her lungs were filling up with air just fine. It seemed the dragon—Jogid and the bugs had fully mended her wounds. Her life had been spared, but that wasn’t the life she was worried about.
She analyzed each of the creatures standing before her closely.
And found the whole thing unbelievable. These had to be megnac beetles. They were exactly like in the fairytales she’d heard growing up, there was no doubt about it, but until now, they had been just that, fairytales. There had never been a recorded case of a successful megnac beetle evolution, and many mages had tried many, many times.
Focusing on their magical power, Shagal determined that each creature was weaker than her peak output; ten of them, however, would easily take her down. If there were a hundred, not even Goren would be able to stop them. Or maybe he would. The elf was the strongest in the realm for a reason. Still, the thought was frightening.
No, she was indebted to these creatures of myth.
She studied her situation further.
Her gambeson and hose were gone, and so were most of her undergarments, all replaced by multiple layers of tightly wrapped bandages. They felt strange and unfamiliar on her skin. She’d always been dressed with the soft, woven cloth bandages used in the capital, but these were coarse and rigid.
Looking down her arm, she saw the bandages were made from some kind of dried plant fiber, woven together in a crisscross pattern.
Though odd and uncomfortable compared to what she knew, these plant fiber bandages did seem to be healing her injuries effectively.
She opened her eyes with hope that the dragonfolk would heed her warnings and deliver her message to the great Kaito—her heart raced in her chest. Time wasn’t a luxury, and she’d never made it a habit to trust others.
She filled her lungs with as much air as possible to control the flow of her IDM. She moved it from her abdomen to her shoulders, through her arms, then to her thighs and calves.
The IDM felt like a snake both slithering and growing inside her body. Her muscles regenerated, healed, and increased in size, but only slightly.
She would unleash no harm upon these creatures for the kindness they had shown her.
Magic surged. Muscles tensed. The bindings snapped.
Shagal sat up and absorbed her surroundings. While restrained and forced to stare at the ceiling, she was under the impression that she was in some sort of detention room. What she found was a small, shabby shack.
Could it be the Master’s home? Shagal wondered the moment a faint smell of IDM crawled up her nose. She remembered the scent being bright, cosmic even.
Not surprising her, the beetles took notice, pushing chairs and a small table in their wake.
Escape.
Look for an exit.
Do not harm them.
Soft footsteps approached the shack’s only door. Then, the door opened.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Oh, that’s the green orc. Karen, I need your help. I haven’t told this to anyone, but I do have one weakness. Something I have never been able to overcome. It is…impossible for me to remember the names of people that I meet in passing.
[...]
It’s not a joke, Karen. There are things that I can remember accurately, but others, like names, it’s like I hear them, but I can’t commit them to memory.
Seriously, Kaito, Stop.
Could you tell me her name? It was like Sh-Sh-Sha-She
Shit! Shitter!
Come on, it’s important. It was like Sha-something, or was it She—.
Shemale!
Fine, if you’re not gonna help, please stay quiet. She, and something Ga, Gap, Gol, Gan.
Gangbang!
Oh, my god. Is it Shahol? Shegol?
Okay, no jokes, it’s Shehulk.
Damn it, Karen. Fine, let’s go with that.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Time might as well have stopped. Her eyes landed on the figure of the magnificent hero. Simultaneously, she dropped to her knees, fists pressed to the hardwood.
“Shehulk, please raise. Take more time to recover.”
Shehulk?—
“Miss Shagal Viggu, sit your ass back down this instant!”
Zenny was...angry, more so than Shagal had ever seen her. But it wasn’t just anger, Shagal recognized, as tears rolled out of her big, beautiful blue eyes.
The princess crashed into her with a hug, making her wince internally, while staying as rigid as an ironwood tree on the outside.
“You’re so reckless.”
Shagal returned the hug with her least painful arm.
Satisfied, Zenith released her hold on the half-orc woman.
“What brought you to this state?”
“Princess—”
“I’ve renounced that title. I’m the mayor of Calmo village.”
The warmest smile Shagal had ever laid eyes upon, spread across Master Kaito’s face.
“Come on, Zee, let her get some more rest. Shagal, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
All the Megnac beetles exited the room and were replaced by the dragonfolk who had spoken with her earlier. He was different from before. The seriousness Jogid had shown had vanished; his wings and tail twitched nervously, he was breathing heavily, and sweat beaded on his face.
“You honor me with your generosity, great Kaito, but I cannot accept. I came to warn you of a great danger.”
“Great danger?” Zenith muttered.
Kaito leaned in front of Shagal. She shifted, having such a divine being come down to her level made her skin crawl. Yet, his words did not.
“You don’t have to worry. We’ll protect you.”
“Sir, it’s not me who needs your protection! It’s you they are after!”
Jogid, who was standing next to the door with his leg bouncing up and down, suddenly jumped up angrily. “Explain yourself clearly, half-orc, and choose your words carefully!”
“Please, Jogid, settle down. Let’s hear her out.”
“I’m so sorry. I have shamed you, Master.” The dragon immediately lowered his head and took a step back.
Shagal stared straight at him, and the dragonfolk nervously broke eye contact. However, she saw something else: an innocence that only made his youthful lust for her mighty half-orc proportions all the more obvious.
So noble, so young.
“Shagal, what do you mean? What’s going on?” Zenith asked.
“The king. He is obsessed with capturing Kaito for reasons only the two suns know. He has sent him. Goren’s coming to Calmo.”
Jogid regained his bearings again.
“I see no danger in this. No one can defeat Kaito. Isn’t that why you also call him master?”
“Yes, Master Kaito is strong, but…”
“But Goren may be the world’s strongest warrior. He defeated the first generation of hell beasts two hundred years ago, and was in the white fury’s party, the hero who defeated the Balthier Panther. This warrior has no weakness,” Zenith said, grabbing Kaito’s hand.
“The strongest, you say? I promise I’ll keep everyone safe. But I’m curious to meet this warrior.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
For over a week, the elf marched east. He took his sweet time.
Goren was ecstatic. He was looking forward to a worthy battle—one that would finally challenge his magnificent power. And in turn, one that would restore order to the realm.
Goren most likely came overprepared. He had completed his strongest conversion ritual, which was most likely unnecessary, but he wasn’t giving Kaito any handicaps. After all, while the king wanted Kaito alive, he swore to himself that he would deliver only his head.
The smell of pine needles and crimson poplar trees, mingling with the dead silence of Kilford forest, calmed his IDM.
The forest is quieter than I remember, he thought, remembering the reports of a recent troglodyte infestation—an infestation he had to ignore thanks to the crazed king. He sighed, glad they’d apparently been taken care of.
Goren’s eyes and grin turned to the sky; he could taste strong magical energies drifting through the air.
Calmo.
“Master Jogid, do we need more guards?”
“It’ll be fine. She is strong, but it’ll take her a while to get back to full strength.”
Shagal opened her eyes to the sound of voices. She was warm and comfortable. Her body ached, but it did not hurt.
She could breathe comfortably again, but she couldn’t move. Not that she wanted to. This was the longest rest she’d had in the longest time.
“Why are you in Calmo village?” the dragonfolk asked her, as he set a bowl of soup by her bed. “You muttered the name, Kaito? What did you mean by that?”
Shagal took a breath.
“I need to see Kaito. Must warn him of the elf—also the king...he is...” The dragonfolk’s scales wrinkled around his face, clearly she had piqued his interest. “...the king is deranged; he’s obsessed with the Master and will stop at nothing until he finds him. I know the Master is in no danger, for I have witnessed his might. But this village will not survive the king’s delusions. The elf has wrath in his eyes, Calmo will fall to those eyes, and Zenith, I need to save her.” She explained.
The dragon tilted his head and the strange bug creatures stepped back.
“You’ve raised serious allegations, ones we cannot simply overlook, and they naturally make us cautious about your intentions. However, you seem reasonable, I’m sure you can understand our position. Right? Or will you cause us problems?”
“I understand, Do what you must. But please get my message to Master Kaito.”
She closed her eyes and assessed her body. All mana points had been cleared, IDM flowed freely through them. There wasn’t a trace of the matriarch’s poison left. Even her lungs were filling up with air just fine. It seemed the dragon—Jogid and the bugs had fully mended her wounds. Her life had been spared, but that wasn’t the life she was worried about.
She analyzed each of the creatures standing before her closely.
And found the whole thing unbelievable. These had to be megnac beetles. They were exactly like in the fairytales she’d heard growing up, there was no doubt about it, but until now, they had been just that, fairytales. There had never been a recorded case of a successful megnac beetle evolution, and many mages had tried many, many times.
Focusing on their magical power, Shagal determined that each creature was weaker than her peak output; ten of them, however, would easily take her down. If there were a hundred, not even Goren would be able to stop them. Or maybe he would. The elf was the strongest in the realm for a reason. Still, the thought was frightening.
No, she was indebted to these creatures of myth.
She studied her situation further.
Her gambeson and hose were gone, and so were most of her undergarments, all replaced by multiple layers of tightly wrapped bandages. They felt strange and unfamiliar on her skin. She’d always been dressed with the soft, woven cloth bandages used in the capital, but these were coarse and rigid.
Looking down her arm, she saw the bandages were made from some kind of dried plant fiber, woven together in a crisscross pattern.
Though odd and uncomfortable compared to what she knew, these plant fiber bandages did seem to be healing her injuries effectively.
She opened her eyes with hope that the dragonfolk would heed her warnings and deliver her message to the great Kaito—her heart raced in her chest. Time wasn’t a luxury, and she’d never made it a habit to trust others.
She filled her lungs with as much air as possible to control the flow of her IDM. She moved it from her abdomen to her shoulders, through her arms, then to her thighs and calves.
The IDM felt like a snake both slithering and growing inside her body. Her muscles regenerated, healed, and increased in size, but only slightly.
She would unleash no harm upon these creatures for the kindness they had shown her.
Magic surged. Muscles tensed. The bindings snapped.
Shagal sat up and absorbed her surroundings. While restrained and forced to stare at the ceiling, she was under the impression that she was in some sort of detention room. What she found was a small, shabby shack.
Could it be the Master’s home? Shagal wondered the moment a faint smell of IDM crawled up her nose. She remembered the scent being bright, cosmic even.
Not surprising her, the beetles took notice, pushing chairs and a small table in their wake.
Escape.
Look for an exit.
Do not harm them.
Soft footsteps approached the shack’s only door. Then, the door opened.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Oh, that’s the green orc. Karen, I need your help. I haven’t told this to anyone, but I do have one weakness. Something I have never been able to overcome. It is…impossible for me to remember the names of people that I meet in passing.
[...]
It’s not a joke, Karen. There are things that I can remember accurately, but others, like names, it’s like I hear them, but I can’t commit them to memory.
Seriously, Kaito, Stop.
Could you tell me her name? It was like Sh-Sh-Sha-She
Shit! Shitter!
Come on, it’s important. It was like Sha-something, or was it She—.
Shemale!
Fine, if you’re not gonna help, please stay quiet. She, and something Ga, Gap, Gol, Gan.
Gangbang!
Oh, my god. Is it Shahol? Shegol?
Okay, no jokes, it’s Shehulk.
Damn it, Karen. Fine, let’s go with that.
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
Time might as well have stopped. Her eyes landed on the figure of the magnificent hero. Simultaneously, she dropped to her knees, fists pressed to the hardwood.
“Shehulk, please raise. Take more time to recover.”
Shehulk?—
“Miss Shagal Viggu, sit your ass back down this instant!”
Zenny was...angry, more so than Shagal had ever seen her. But it wasn’t just anger, Shagal recognized, as tears rolled out of her big, beautiful blue eyes.
The princess crashed into her with a hug, making her wince internally, while staying as rigid as an ironwood tree on the outside.
“You’re so reckless.”
Shagal returned the hug with her least painful arm.
Satisfied, Zenith released her hold on the half-orc woman.
“What brought you to this state?”
“Princess—”
“I’ve renounced that title. I’m the mayor of Calmo village.”
The warmest smile Shagal had ever laid eyes upon, spread across Master Kaito’s face.
“Come on, Zee, let her get some more rest. Shagal, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need.”
All the Megnac beetles exited the room and were replaced by the dragonfolk who had spoken with her earlier. He was different from before. The seriousness Jogid had shown had vanished; his wings and tail twitched nervously, he was breathing heavily, and sweat beaded on his face.
“You honor me with your generosity, great Kaito, but I cannot accept. I came to warn you of a great danger.”
“Great danger?” Zenith muttered.
Kaito leaned in front of Shagal. She shifted, having such a divine being come down to her level made her skin crawl. Yet, his words did not.
“You don’t have to worry. We’ll protect you.”
“Sir, it’s not me who needs your protection! It’s you they are after!”
Jogid, who was standing next to the door with his leg bouncing up and down, suddenly jumped up angrily. “Explain yourself clearly, half-orc, and choose your words carefully!”
“Please, Jogid, settle down. Let’s hear her out.”
“I’m so sorry. I have shamed you, Master.” The dragon immediately lowered his head and took a step back.
Shagal stared straight at him, and the dragonfolk nervously broke eye contact. However, she saw something else: an innocence that only made his youthful lust for her mighty half-orc proportions all the more obvious.
So noble, so young.
“Shagal, what do you mean? What’s going on?” Zenith asked.
“The king. He is obsessed with capturing Kaito for reasons only the two suns know. He has sent him. Goren’s coming to Calmo.”
Jogid regained his bearings again.
“I see no danger in this. No one can defeat Kaito. Isn’t that why you also call him master?”
“Yes, Master Kaito is strong, but…”
“But Goren may be the world’s strongest warrior. He defeated the first generation of hell beasts two hundred years ago, and was in the white fury’s party, the hero who defeated the Balthier Panther. This warrior has no weakness,” Zenith said, grabbing Kaito’s hand.
“The strongest, you say? I promise I’ll keep everyone safe. But I’m curious to meet this warrior.”
▬▬ι════════ﺤ
For over a week, the elf marched east. He took his sweet time.
Goren was ecstatic. He was looking forward to a worthy battle—one that would finally challenge his magnificent power. And in turn, one that would restore order to the realm.
Goren most likely came overprepared. He had completed his strongest conversion ritual, which was most likely unnecessary, but he wasn’t giving Kaito any handicaps. After all, while the king wanted Kaito alive, he swore to himself that he would deliver only his head.
The smell of pine needles and crimson poplar trees, mingling with the dead silence of Kilford forest, calmed his IDM.
The forest is quieter than I remember, he thought, remembering the reports of a recent troglodyte infestation—an infestation he had to ignore thanks to the crazed king. He sighed, glad they’d apparently been taken care of.
Goren’s eyes and grin turned to the sky; he could taste strong magical energies drifting through the air.
Calmo.
