Chapter 928: Act 101 – The Decoy
After Modest crashed into the mountain, the winds howled above the forest, and within moments a pungent smell of sulfur filled the air. It was as if visible sparks floated in the atmosphere; these sparks landed on the treetops, forming bright flames and causing the temperature to rise steadily. After speaking to the three ladies, Brendel yanked Romaine’s hand and led them out of the chaotic camp. Without Sargoss’s command, the goblins and kobolds were like headless chickens, running and screaming around the camp. Brendel led Romaine at the front, while the sprite hesitated for a while, debating whether to follow. At that moment, Sargoss’s arm, which was lying in a pool of blood, suddenly moved reflexively, startling her into a scream as she hurriedly picked up Xainne and rushed after them.
QiYala was the last to follow everyone. She noticed that after Sargoss fell, all his magical equipment disintegrated due to the loss of magic, but there was still an evergreen vine-shaped ring sparkling. She quickly removed the ring before sidestepping the corpse and following along.
In the end, only the dwarf remained frozen in place. Poli Fireanvil had witnessed many events unfold in the short span of time; he stood dazed for a moment and suddenly, with a change in expression, he raced after them without knowing why.
The four and then five people passed through the camp one after another. Romaine’s hand was being pulled by Brendel, causing her to hurriedly keep up with his pace. Initially, she muttered, “Brendel, you’re going too fast, I can barely keep up!” To this, Brendel, without hesitation, carried Merchant Miss like a sack of rice, startling her into a scream. Before she could react, the scenery around her shifted, and Brendel had already lifted QiYala and the sprite in one hand, darting into the forest.
“Don’t carry me like a sack!”
“Put me down, you bad guy!” The two protested immediately, kicking and punching at Brendel, which proved futile as their little legs couldn’t reach him.
Modest finally regained consciousness, shaking her massive head as she crawled out of the enormous crater she had created from the impact. She had dived from hundreds of meters above, crashing into a nearby cliff, leaving her dazed but not seriously injured—only the cliff had suffered greatly and had completely collapsed, appearing as if a large landslide had occurred.
As Modest’s muddled vision suddenly cleared, it also marked the failure of Mistral’s spell. She spotted the forest engulfed in flames and the chaotic camp below, unable to contain her rage as she shouted to the sky, “Who! Who attacked me! Come out!”
Naturally, Sargoss could not answer this question, and the sprite quivered in Brendel’s grasp. Suddenly, a shadow blocked the sun above the forest; the black dragon flapped its wings as it ascended the mountaintop, finally spotting Brendel and the others fleeing through the forest, as well as other humans scattered in the hills, one of whom emitted a familiar aura…
“Mistral!” Modest let out a furious roar from deep in her throat, raising her head high, and unleashed a massive fireball aimed at the distant mountain. The fireball rolled toward the forest, where many Cruz nobles awaited what seemed like imminent disaster. However, just at that moment, a beautiful silver thread suddenly sparkled above the treetops. The silver threads emitted a dazzling light under the impact of the fireball, ultimately redirecting its trajectory, causing it to graze the treetops and fly over the heads of the crowd, narrowly avoiding calamity.
All of this occurred in a flash, and it was as if only a long trail of fire remained to prove that it had happened.
Mistral, having intercepted the attack, couldn’t help but turn pale—she had reverted back to her human form, appearing once again as the elven lady in her white robe. She looked at the stunned nobles around her, frowned, and gestured for them to flee quickly.
Modest obviously wouldn’t let her off that easily—
The black dragon stood on the mountaintop, the entire hill reduced to nothing but a small mound beneath her. Between her open jaws, a new golden flame was indeed gestating, signaling that Modest was preparing to unleash another fireball.
She squinted her eyes, fully aware of Mistral’s current state; with her injuries, she could hardly survive another attack.
Just as Modest was about to unleash her wrath, a sudden chorus of screeches echoed from the mountains. Startled, Modest turned around to see countless gargoyles rising from the hills, densely flocking towards her. Modest couldn’t help but be shocked; beings like gargoyles were easily ignored, and even if she stood there without fighting back, these gargoyles wouldn’t be able to harm her. But the sheer number of gargoyles was overwhelming—Modest never expected so many would be hiding in the hills, resembling a swarm of buzzing flies. Anyone faced with their onslaught would feel flustered.
In her surprise, Modest instinctively spewed forth the flames she had been nurturing in her mouth.
The flames engulfed half the sky, consuming the gargoyles in a sea of fire—gargoyles, directly controlled by Brendel, succumbed to the inferno. Brendel watched the system log flood with red warning messages as countless dark dots tumbled from the fiery cloud spewed by Modest, raining down into the valley, creating a cacophony of crashes.
Brendel felt at least a whole squad of gargoyles had lost contact with him, and this was no comparison to last night’s skirmish with the hill dragon beast; this was a direct confrontation against the dragon. The losses he had willingly allowed to happen by spreading them out hit him painfully.
Soon, Nemeses appeared ahead, signaling to Brendel from the trees on the hillside—indicating what to do next?
Brendel immediately gestured with his hands to her: Split up and run!
This was the only path to survival.
No matter how terrifying Modest was, in the end, she was just one dragon. What he needed to do was to draw this temperamental mother dragon away alone; there were too many people in the embassy, and he couldn’t possibly look after everyone under the black dragon’s pursuit. Especially for several noble descendants and Princess Margadale—whose combat capabilities were only slightly better than those of civilians; one misstep could see them engulfed in flames. Meanwhile, with just one target, he was smaller and could slip away from Modest’s pursuit more easily.
Now, he had to divert the dragon’s attention, drawing her anger away from Mistral, and there was conveniently a way to do that.
Brendel raised his hand and called to the sprite, “See that dragon? Shoot her!”
The sprite, aghast at the shadow of the massive dragon that was bigger than the mountain itself, turned pale and shook her head vigorously.
“If you don’t shoot her, she’ll kill us. Dragons have excellent vision; she’ll spot us in no time.” Anticipating the sprite’s reaction, Brendel coaxed her, “You don’t need to be afraid. Together, she’s no match for us.”
The sprite, still skeptical, asked, “Really?”
“Of course! More real than pearls!”
“Then, what should I do?” The young girl regained a bit of confidence, stuttering as she asked, “Should I aim for her head? Wait, Mom said dragons’ weak points are in their underbelly, so I’ll aim for her belly—”
“Aim anywhere!” QiYala and the sprite, being held together, were irritated and snapped back, “Just shoot quickly! Don’t let her keep breathing fire on those gargoyles!”
QiYala coughed, having caught onto Brendel’s intention.
Modest was spewing fire at the annoying flies above the sky, and this method proved highly effective against the scattered gargoyles; with each breath of fire, countless gargoyles were scorched and fell from the air. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before she cleaned them all out and went after Brendel and the others, ruthlessly killing them all.
After all, no matter how fast people on the ground ran, they could never outrun a dragon in the sky.
Just as she prepared to unleash another golden blaze, a dark, glossy sphere caught a reflection from the edges of her pupils. Modest’s reaction was sharp; instinctively, she turned her head, and a beam of white light brushed past her horn.
“Hey, you can aim pretty well!” QiYala, held by Brendel, turned to watch the sprite’s shot, unable to help but exclaim, “So close from that distance!”
The sprite flushed, gripping tightly onto Brendel’s cape as Xainne was tossed around, unable to contain her laughter, both of them silent about the fact that she had actually aimed for Modest’s belly.
The shot may have missed, but the black dragon was already furious.
She recognized this shot as the same attack executed during the previous ambush. That ambush had incited her anger even more than Mistral’s earlier attack; could you imagine a dragon soaring in the sky crashing into a mountain? Just the thought of so many inferior beings witnessing that moment made her want to kill every single one present, especially the culprit behind it.
And now, she had finally found that culprit.
“You damned pest, you won’t escape! I’ll see where you run!” Modest flapped her wings, sending the surrounding gargoyles tumbling, and darted towards Brendel. Just then, the raging wind caused the masses of gargoyles to pivot and launch themselves towards her, colliding like a relentless black cloud.
Modest had no choice but to halt her flight. No matter how furious she was, she couldn’t let a horde of flies collide with her head. Not only would it be humiliating, but it was also disgusting. She let out an angry roar: “Damn flies, get lost!”
Then she opened her mouth, golden flames pouring forth. The gargoyles had coalesced, and with one breath of fire, she could clear those annoying flies. However, at that moment, Modest’s expression changed, and she had to clamp her mouth shut. A flash of light sparkled through the dark eye of her pupils, and suddenly a beam of white light shot forth from the depths of the woods, piercing through the gathering of gargoyles and striking her directly in the face.
“Roar—!”
The black dragon lady had probably never encountered such pain and humiliation in her life; while the Demon Slayer’s attack might not have hurt her in any real manner, it had certainly inflicted genuine pain. She was in agony and nearly brought to tears. If her rage could kill, Brendel and the sprite would have turned to dust in an instant.
Modest let out a terrifying wail; she no longer cared about her pride, spreading her massive wings and bolting toward Brendel’s direction, as for the pestering gargoyles, they were either smashed into pieces or swept away by the raging winds. The black dragon had completely succumbed to her fury, forgetting about Mistral, the secrets of the dragon race; now she was focused solely on pulverizing those audacious insects.
“She’s coming!” Romaine, slung over Brendel’s back, shouted in a mix of fear and excitement, “That dragon!”
Brendel silently praised the little girl for her quick thinking. Though confused, Romaine had skillful reflexes; hitting Modest from this distance was no easy feat, and she was being carried too, bouncing around so vigorously. With two shots fired, the hatred meter surged toward 100%—truly a master in pulling aggro, a top monster-hunter that all major guilds would rush to hire.
As the sprite saw the second shot hit the black dragon’s head accurately, she cautiously watched the direction. When she saw Modest spreading her enormous wings and taking flight, she realized she’d been deceived; she could not harm that dragon!
Now they had a real problem—the dragon was coming to eat them.
The sprite couldn’t help but burst into tears.
She sobbed hard, sounding as if she had been washed white and adorned with onions and spices, all set to be served up; Brendel, seeing her distress, felt a pang of compassion—after all, she was just a child. He had to reassure her again, “Don’t cry, I’m here! She can’t catch up to us.”
“Liar, you’re so bad! I don’t believe you anymore, waah!” The sprite’s sadness escalated, and she couldn’t help but wail.
Brendel couldn’t believe he had set himself up for this; the little one no longer believed him, but how could she cry now? They still needed her to use the Demon Slayer—a weapon that was the only threat to Modest here. Fortunately, at that moment, Merchant Miss finally played her part; she loudly praised, “Sprite, you shot so accurately! You must have hurt her; look how furious she is—ah! She’s coming!”
Romaine screamed, and the sprite echoed with another scream as Modest had already swooped overhead. The black dragon unfurled her wings, creating a wind pressure that nearly knocked Brendel over. He was drifting deliberately apart from the rest of the embassy, positioned between two mountains. The dragon swept by, and as Brendel held the sprite, she could no longer afford to cry; when the dragon spun in midair and dove towards them, she screamed and raised her Demon Slayer, firing it like a machine gun at Modest in the sky.
Now Modest was in for a surprise; she never imagined that cursed spear could shoot in bursts—In fact, Brendel hadn’t anticipated this either, nor had that little sprite. Suddenly, a double-digit barrage of light beams shot towards the massive dragon. In that instant, Modest attempted to dodge, but ended up taking at least seven hits. Although none penetrated her defense, the pain almost made her black out from the air.
She managed to stabilize herself with great effort and tried to ascend again. Watching from the valley, a few onlookers could only watch in disbelief as the sprite, after a moment of shock, shouted, “Die lizard! The sprite is here for revenge!”
Then she aimed the Demon Slayer at the rising Modest and unleashed a round of fire. With several shots hitting her back, the black dragon shook violently in mid-air but managed not to plummet.
Modest was on the brink of madness; since her birth, she had never been so humiliated, especially by lowly humans. Gritting her teeth, she climbed up again to the highest point, ready to dive down toward the valley once more. At that moment, all she could think about was eliminating those annoying insects. Even if she had to crash into them, she would turn them to mush.
Seeing the black dragon turn back toward them again, the sprite felt no fear this time; licking her lips, she raised her Demon Slayer and fired another frenzied barrage at the incoming Modest.
No one noticed that the silver spear in the sprite’s hands was gradually glowing with layers of golden light. Everyone’s attention was glued to the dragon in the sky, and the moment the sparkling patterns on the Demon Slayer glimmered to their brightest, QiYala, gripping Brendel’s hand, noticed the spectacular scene and nearly lost her mind when she saw the shining spear in the sprite’s grasp. She screamed at the top of her lungs, “Stop, you idiot!”
Sadly, it was too late.
With a loud bang, the valley shook violently, and a blinding white light erupted from Brendel’s position, radiating outward in all directions and sweeping over the entire valley in an instant.
After the explosion, the four on the scene remained unharmed, but the sprite stared in shock at the two larger fragments still held in her hands—just moments ago, they had referred to it as the Demon Slayer.
Above, the seething dragon shrieked down at them.
