The Dragon Heir Chapter 75: Cornered

The mont I jolted awake, I knew precisely what needed doing. Snatched up that scrappy little bag I’d whipped together earlier, stashed with my precious monster cores. Then I shook awake my nook-mate Badger. Poor thing seed to sense sothing was off—perhaps from my frenzied movents or the tension radiating off . I spread my Air Sense in a 20-ter ring, but all I picked up were a few stray beasts, nothing more.

Lotte’s sudden warning was enough to make my skin crawl. Danger was looming, and I had a strong inkling about who was behind it. Bloody divinators. Sod it all—what fresh hell had they dragged into now?

If it truly were those lot, then that ant a target was likely pinned on my back. How they’d track , I couldn’t be sure, but they surely would. For the mont, I sensed nothing imdiate. But “prepare” I must, and in this case, that ant only one thing: pulling up my stats screen. It was high ti to fuse these skills and unlock a proper technique.

I confird the system prompt to begin the fusion, and no sooner had I done so than I felt an odd tingle take root in my mind. A rush of knowledge began seeping through , steady and sure, feeding my body the knowledge of a stance. Muscles tightened, anticipation heightened, but I kept my Air Sense on high alert.

And that’s when I noticed sothing amiss. Monsters loitering at the edge of my radius were…vanishing. As if sothing were devouring them whole. One, two, three, disappearing from every direction. Either that or—Thalador help —my hunters had arrived. I pushed my Air Sense to its limit, but even then, couldn’t make out their shapes. Another beast dropped, and my gut twisted. I had to flee. They must be using stealth magic, hiding their presence from . And evidently, these people were prepared, likely even aware of my Air Sense.

Skill fusion was still in process, that steady trickle of knowledge weaving through , but for the first ti, I felt true danger. I glanced at Badger. If they were slaughtering every creature nearby, then she might be next. I motioned for her to stay put and gently slipped her into the bag of monster cores. No way I’d let them harm her. She was, after all, my very first friend down here. I tightened the bag around as she peeked out, eyes anxious, and gave her a reassuring nod. My slitted gaze narrowed, and I slid out of the nook.

Flying was an option, sure, but it would make an easy target. I couldn’t fly half as fast as I could leg it. And with Lotte’s warning about multiple threats, there were bound to be mages or rangers among them. If they already knew about my Air Sense, who’s to say they weren’t equally prepared for flight?

I scanned my surroundings, my heightened senses painting everything in vivid hues. My mind raced, even as that cool, steady rush of knowledge settled into my bones. How much longer would this fusion take?

Right then—I couldn’t sit around waiting. I was surrounded, no doubt. All right, just pick one direction and leg it. Yes, that’s the plan!

I picked a direction at random and strode off, confident I'd inevitably run into soone. Whoever they were, they’d sohow slipped under the radar of my Air Sense—doing Thalador knows what—so I kept every other sense on high alert. My hues let see with vivid, perfect clarity, and it wasn’t long before a yell tore through the underbrush. I caught sight of him just before he burst into view, sword in hand. A mission notification flashed in my periphery; dismissed it at once. I had bigger fish to fry.

An elf, tall and brawny, his sword lifted with nacing purpose. The mont he locked eyes with , he growled sothing, voice gruff and ready to spring. His stance was rock-solid, low to the ground, poised to counter. And, quicker than I could blink, he surged forward. I dodged to the side in a flash, but that blasted sword of his followed with such precision that I had to abruptly halt, montum be damned. A gash appeared on my side, and, to make matters worse, it was starting to freeze.

A warning rumble escaped my throat. This wasn’t your run-of-the-mill prey or so woodland fiend. No, this one had seen his share of battles, a proper monster-slayer and likely yellow core, judging by his no-nonsense approach to killing .

I moved; his sword moved. I dashed; the sword dashed with . He wasn’t just reacting; he was reading my moves, probably with a dash technique of his own. No way to slip from his grasp.

So I changed tack. Escaped escaping, as it were.

Just as his sword cut through the air again, I lunged, claws out and thrumming with stamina, straight for his guard. He didn’t so much as flinch, deflecting with the flat of his blade, sending a clang ringing through the air, sparks flying. My follow-up attack echoed in the empty space.

With a flicker of thought, I pumped four mana into my fire gland. My sights were on his neck, and a torrent of fla burst forth. He dodged. My chance. I tried to weave around him, but there he was again, always a step ahead, blade glinting as he swung at my side. I ducked, dashed back, barely slipping out of reach of the arc. Another gout of fla from ; another dodge from him. I tried to take advantage of his off-balance stance, lashing out with my tail, which sliced past his arm but only left a shallow mark. He didn’t even blink.

Then it ca, a rumbling underfoot—a sign that this warrior wasn’t my only problem. I knew well enough these bastards hunted in packs. And just as I feared, his teammate had arrived. A robed figure appeared, arcane runes swirling in a circular matrix, forming a continuous spell. This wasn’t good. I needed to run. Needed to bolt. Otherwise, I’d be done for.

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Think, Jade, THINK!

The faint tug of unford knowledge was there, taunting . Thalador’s grace, how much longer till these blasted skills rged and that technique took hold? Ti wasn’t on my side. I considered Roaring to stun them, maybe buy a mont’s breath, but it would leave too exposed. No chance for that. Another slice, another dodge. The ground buckled as an earthen wall sprang up before . Just caught a glimpse of the mage—my hackles rose. Right, if I couldn’t get past the warrior, I’d take a shot at his friend.

I darted to the side, claws at the ready, angled straight for the mage. But another wall shot up, and I’d been expecting that. Wings flared, I leapt clean over it, claws thrumming with stamina as I hurtled down. Only to smack against a barrier. Bloody Thalador, what was it with these Elves and their bloody shielding enchantnts? But just as I was cursing, I knew I’d made a fatal error.

Another warrior had slipped behind the mage and was already closing in. His sword swung before my paws even touched the ground. I lashed out with my claws, sparks crackling as tal t them—but the warrior was relentless, driving a knee squarely into my hindquarters. And there I went, launched like a ragdoll, air slamd from my lungs as I hurtled backwards. I thudded against a tree, the impact jarring, but not enough to knock out. I still had sense enough to roll, dashing just in ti to avoid two gleaming swords.

Earthen walls sprang up around , their plan becoming all too clear: box in, corner for capture. That’s why they were being so bloody careful. Maybe they’d wound , weaken , but not one strike aid at anything vital. No, they were targeting my legs, doing their best to rob of my mobility, one swipe at a ti.

The first warrior ca at again, his blade glinting with an icy blue edge. I… was losing here, and the picture of it sparked a fierce, simring rage. If this was how it went, I’d make sure to take one of these smug bastards down with . I dropped low, claws scraping against the packed earth as I lunged forward, aiming right for his exposed knee. But he stepped back with infuriating ease, redirecting my strike with a flick that nearly threw off balance.

Then ca a tremor—a stone spike burst from the ground behind . I twisted, slicing through it with a sharp swipe before diving sideways as more spikes erupted in my wake.

More dashes. The second warrior joined in.

The mage wasn’t letting up either, shifting the earth to herd right into the first warrior’s line of attack. And the second one, no doubt, was there to cut off any chance of escape. They knew my dashes, my flight, my claws, even my Air Senses—the divinators weren’t to be trifled with.

The first elf lunged again, his sword slicing toward my legs. I twisted, his blade missing by a hair, but he was relentless. A second swing followed, aid right at my shoulder. I dodged sideways, the tight space and crowded walls making every move riskier, every dodge closer.

The mage raised his hands again, shifting the ground as if he’d puppeteered it his whole life. Every dash was draining my stamina now, down to the 60s. No ti to waste. I lunged straight at the sword-wielder, claws out. He didn’t flinch, bracing himself, grip steady for the clash. But I feinted left, then struck right, catching him just off guard enough to rake my claws across his forearm. He hissed, but the cut barely scratched him.

His blade lashed out in a tight arc—I ducked, but not quickly enough. The edge nicked my scales. I tried to fall back, but my shoulder hit solid stone. No space to breathe. They had cornered. And before I could blink, the ground beneath pulsed with life as a net of glowing gold surged up, encasing completely.

A strange calm settled over , the steady rush of technique’s knowledge finally sinking into my bones. My slitted eyes narrowed on the smug warrior standing before , his smug smile twisting my insides.

Just you fucking wait.

[Mission Accepted]

I’d wipe that smug, cocky grin off his insufferable face.

***

Carel sotis loathed this place—honestly, bioluminescent trees, shadows dancing with every whisper of wind. Utterly eerie. His team moved in hushed precision, each footstep cushioned by layers of fallen leaves and moss.

Soril was just ahead, staff gripped tight, her spell matrix already prid, while Lira trailed behind. Their movents were fluid; a year of training at the Delver’s Guild had ingrained it into them—watchful eyes, ears tuned to every twitch and rustle.

Ahead stood a figure, the lone divinator of the camp, standing still as stone in his illusionary cover. Carel was still incredulous soone’d managed to hire an actual divinator for half the mission’s reward. Reasonable enough, given divination was a pricey and perilous path. There were far cushier gigs than spelunking with dungeon-delvers, but hey, who was he to judge? He’d once had a stash, too.

Now, thanks to Soril’s spell, Carel could see through the divinator’s mirage—and there he was, totally oblivious to their approach. Carel leaned toward Soril with a smirk.

"Really, Soril, care to remind whose genius idea it was to miss our chance with the only divinator in camp?”

Soril shot him a glare, giving his nose a flick. “I’d say it was the one distracted arguing over the handlers’ reward sche, Carel.”

Carel feigned offense. “Oh, please. If we’re blaming distractions, let’s point fingers at the one who thought she’d ‘charm’ our way to the front of the line. Lira?”

Lira, deftly skirting a thorn bush, stifled a grin, which looked undeniably odd on soone her size. “Diplomacy, Carel, is what it’s called. Not my fault the other team had more ‘charm’ jingling in their pouches.”

“Diplomacy,” Carel scoffed, nodding at the divinator ahead. “Sure, that’s what they call it in the capital. Out here? Losing an asset.”

The divinator was a wiry sort, swathed in white robes, a glinting blue orb orbiting him like so celestial body. He’d probably already pointed the earlier team straight to the creature’s lair, maybe even rattled off tips on its powers and counters. Handy. Too bad they hadn’t snagged him first.

Lira gave a casual shrug, her eyes locked on the figure ahead. “If we’d gotten him first, we’d be splitting the rewards. This way, we stay clean, scoop all the loot, and skip the lecture on ‘team dynamics.’”

Soril glared, ducking under a low branch. “And if they actually capture it? You’d walk away empty-handed?”

Lira glanced back at them, her grin widening. “You think I’d leave spoils? We’re here for insurance.”

Carel stifled a chuckle. Sure, they’d missed the divinator, and now only one path remained. He had no clue which team had hired him, but if it was one of the rookie squads who flooded these kinds of contracts, well…they might just nab the beast themselves. A bit of intimidation—or, if necessary, a well-placed “misunderstanding”—and they’d be waltzing off with that prize solo. No divinator, no split.

They waited in silence, ears pricked, and before long, faint laughter echoed through the trees. The divinator’s face brightened as he drifted toward the sound. They hadn’t needed to wait long at all.