The Kingdom Razed by Dragons

by Virlyce

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  “It’s getting a lot louder,” Charlotte said as she removed her helmet as well. She bit her lower lip. “How many people are there? I thought the shores were supposed to be the least populated regions next to the frostlands. If only Mistle were here.”

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  “It’s them, isn’t it?” Breeze asked Gale. “Those skeletons I tried to avoid. What did we do to deserve this?”

  “You know what’s going on?” Abel asked.

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  “When we were still drifting around,” Breeze said. “We encountered a galleon made of singing skeletons. They definitely established themselves on that shore.”

  “Are you stupid?” Abel asked. “Skeletons don’t sing. And they can’t swim either! They can’t stay afloat without flesh.”

  Breeze pointed at the leviathan skeleton underneath the Fangs. “Look at what you’re riding on.”

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  “Mistle enchanted it,” Charlotte said. “Abel’s right. A normal skeleton can’t swim, never mind forming a galleon by working together.”

  Breeze snorted. “You’ll see when we get there. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  The Fang with the axes made a shushing noise. “I think I can hear the leader’s verses. Quiet down, please.”

  “You’re enjoying this,” Charlotte said.

  “Sometimes, I miss the simple times with my family,” the Fang said and shrugged.

  Raise your shovels, ready your seeds.

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  The fish are hungry, sate their needs.

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  We don’t fight; we farm the land.

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  Life is boring; the food is bland.

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  The Fang with the axes smiled. “See? It’s a work song.”

  Wait for the day when we can kill!

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  Laugh as their heads roll down the hill!

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  Our food is bland, but blood tastes sweet!

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  Trample the world beneath our feet!

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  “Those are some bloodthirsty farmers,” Charlotte said with a pale face.

  The Fang with the axes scratched his head. “Maybe we should prepare to face some undead when we land,” he said. “You know, just in case.”

  “Yeah,” Charlotte said and put her helmet back on. “Just in case.”

  The Fang with the rifle took out some bullets. He placed them into his gun and propped the barrel on his shoulder before nodding. “Just in case.”

  Abel snorted. “Look at all of you, panicking over some rumors of skeletons,” he said. “We’re the Fangs of Capitis, the strongest party on the continent! So what if they’re actually skeletons who can speak and sing? Which they can’t. But if they could, it wouldn’t mean anything.”

  Thank the mistress for her grace!

  Gale let out a whimper.

  As they approached the land, the Fangs of Capitis became more and more tensed. The rhythmic chanting sent shivers down their spines, and Gale and Breeze had been reduced to quivering limp blobs lying on their raft. Abel clenched and unclenched his sword’s hilt as he stared at the shore. Hundreds of fishmen were positioned in neat rows in the shallow waters, harvesting seaweed from ropes underneath the surface of the ocean.

  As the leviathan skeleton and raft got closer and closer, the chanting gradually stopped, and the fishmen paused their work to stare at the approaching vessels. Charlotte shivered and said, “They look soulless, but they’re definitely not skeletons.”

  A big red fishman swam out into the ocean and treaded water in front of the Fangs. “You come from across the ocean?” he asked. “Do you understand me?”

  “We’re from here,” Charlotte said. “We just ended up in the ocean due to a botched teleportation.” An image of a girl with horns flashed into her mind, but she shook her head and it went away. “We don’t mean any harm.”

  “Oh,” the red fishman said and nodded. “No harm. Follow me; I’ll guide you away from our farms.”

  “I’ve never seen fishmen operate in such large numbers before,” the Fang with the axes said as the leviathan skeleton drifted towards the shore. “I didn’t know fishmen farmed. Weren’t you supposed to be hunter-gatherers?”

  The red fishman nodded. “We were,” he said, “until we were enlightened by the mistress’ teachings. She is our savior. Look at all the food we can grow.” He gestured around in the water at the masses of seaweed. On shore, beyond the sand and on the grass, hundreds of fishmen were gathering plants while planting seeds. Some were spreading gooey pastes onto the ground. “We no longer need to depend on luck to survive. Agriculture! That’s what our savior’s messengers call it.”

  “Who,” Charlotte asked as she looked around, “is this savior? Or mistress, as you call her. We heard your chanting from quite some distance away.”

  “You heard our chanting?” the red fishman asked, his face cramping. “All the chanting?”

  “The bloodthirsty bits too,” the Fang with the axes said. “You’re very fierce for farmers. For a while, we thought you were undead.”

  “Undead?” the red fishman asked.

  “It was their comments,” the Fang with the axes said and pointed at Gale and Breeze.

  “Oh,” the red fishman said. “Well, I’m very much alive, as you can see. All of us are.”

  “What about the mistress?” Charlotte asked. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “The mistress is, uh, the mistress.” The red fishman nodded. “She’s symbolic.”

  Charlotte tilted her head. “Um, okay? What about her messengers? Were they also not actual people? How did you learn these methods then?”

  “The messengers came to us in our dreams,” the red fishman said. “Yes, our dreams.” He cleared his throat before Charlotte could respond. “Ah, you five look very strong. Are you famous, perhaps?”

  “We’re the Fangs of Capitis,” Abel said, sticking his chest out while crossing his arms. He faced the fishman and waited.

  The fishman blinked. “Ah, the Fangs of Capitis….”

  “The number one human adventurer party,” Charlotte said. “You’ve never heard of us?”

  “Oh! The Fangs of Capitis! Of course,” the red fishman said and nodded. “Of course, of course. I’ve heard of you! Can I get your autographs?” He paused and scratched his head. “Oh, but why are you out here and not participating in the war?”

  “In the what?” the Fang with the rifle asked.

  “The war,” the red fishman said. “The humans are calling it the Great War. A few moon cycles ago, the humans declared war on the dwarves. I thought all adventurer parties were participating in it.”

  “What!?” Abel asked, jumping to his feet. “Really?”

  “Yes,” the red fishman said with a nod as he climbed onto the shore. “The emperor even sent out a royal decree. A few men were sent to my tribe to warn us not to interfere in the war efforts. In fact, some of our seaweed is going to help supply your army.”

  “What is the emperor thinking?” Charlotte asked as she stood up and hopped off the leviathan’s skeleton and onto the sand. “Why would he declare war against the dwarves?” She grabbed the red fishman’s shoulder. It was unusually bony, but she didn’t seem to notice or mind. “What about the holy dragons? What is their stance on this?”

  The fishman squirmed under her grasp and slipped free. “The holy dragons haven’t done anything,” he said. “Perhaps they’re sleeping? Dragons sleep for years at a time, right?”

  “The matriarch isn’t that irresponsible,” Charlotte said and clenched her fist. “She burned down a town for littering
once! There’s no way she’d stand for humans and dwarves fighting a war.”

  “Then she must not know about it,” the Fang with the rifle said. He turned towards Abel. “What do we do? Should we inform the matriarch?”

  Abel shook his head. “We’ll go to the emperor first and see what’s going on in that empty head of his,” he said. “Depending on his answer, we’ll participate in the war or we’ll inform the matriarch. Personally, I want to participate in the war: fame, glory, spoils. War is the best time to grow. And with our strength, even a small army of dwarves can’t stop us, not even with their thunder shooters.” He nodded. “Come, let’s go! To the imperial capital.”

  The red fishman remained motionless as the five Fangs charged ahead, sprinting towards the mainland. He turned his head towards Gale and Breeze, who were still lying on the raft. He muttered, “How troublesome. I’ll have to waste a mana crystal to ask the leader what to do.” He approached the raft and squinted at the two figures. “Or I can handle this myself. Should I send him back out to sea?”

  “Ah!” Gale screamed as he bolted upright, causing the red fishman to flinch and stumble backwards. “You! Y-you’re not a skeleton…?”

  The red fishman looked down and made sure his scales were still there. Then he raised his head and met Gale’s eyes. “Are you blind?”

  “No, it’s just that….” Gale’s brow furrowed and he bit his lower lip, causing a droplet of blood to ooze out. “Never mind. Do, do you have any food I can have?”

  “Food,” the red fishman said, his eyes lighting up. “Yes. Yes, we have lots of food. And all of it is perfectly safe for consumption. Come, I’ll treat you to a feast.”

  32

  “Hey, hey,” Erin said and frowned at the card that Tafel had placed down. “That’s allowed?”

  “Yup,” Tafel said and nodded.

  Erin’s frown deepened. “Why?”

  Tafel shrugged. “It just is. That’s how the rules work.” She glanced at Emile, who was toying with a bug with one of his talons. “It’s your turn, Emile.”

  “Ah?” Emile raised his head and blinked. “Already?” He reached underneath his wings with his beak and pulled out a card which he placed on top of the pile in the center. Then he went back to tormenting the bug.

  Erin glanced at her hand, then at the cards in the center. “I’m being swindled,” she said. “I don’t know how, but I’m definitely being cheated.” She pouted and stared at Tafel. “I pass.”

  Tafel nodded and placed the final card in her hand down onto the pile. “I win. That’s forty-two for me, seventeen for Emile, and thre—”

  “Don’t say it!” Erin shouted, throwing her cards into Tafel’s face. She harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest before turning her head towards the prison beside them. “This is the sixth one. She’s really not sacrificing people and collecting their souls, right?”

  “Why are you so fixated on that?” Tafel asked. “You ask that every time.”

  Erin snorted. “She never lets us go in to see what she’s doing! And she won’t let us go in once she’s done.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’m a fairy, dammit! I’m naturally curious and nosy.”

  A booming laughter echoed out of the prison. A figure dashed towards the entrance from within and leapt through a glass windowpane even though the opened door was right beside it. The figure tumbled onto the ground, performing a beautiful shoulder roll, ending up on her feet as the shards of broken glass fell beside her. She was an emaciated woman with dark bags underneath her eyes, and her ribs were outlined on her thin clothes, but a brilliant smile adorned her face. She laughed and tilted her chin towards the sky while throwing her arms into the air. “I, Shadow Nelly, the greatest scout in the world, could never be contained by a mere dwarven dungeon!” she shouted in a hoarse voice and grinned. She turned her head back towards the prison. “I won’t forget your kindness, Ms. Elf Lady! Shadow Nelly never forgets her debts!”

  Then, Shadow Nelly ran away, leaving behind a dumbfounded trio. Emile blinked and tilted his head. “What was that?” he asked, staring at the little dust clouds that the scout had left behind.

  “I’m pretty sure that was a human,” Erin said with a nod. “A damaged human, but a human nonetheless.”

  “That,” Tafel said, tapping Erin’s head, “was proof that Auntie’s not sacrificing people. That Nelly person even thanked Auntie for her kindness.”

  Erin pouted as she rubbed her head. “You don’t know that. What if….”

  Erin stopped talking, causing Tafel to raise an eyebrow. “What if…?” Tafel asked, raising an eyebrow, but Erin turned her head and stared at the horizon. Tafel followed her gaze and squinted. Some white figures were approaching them. “What’s that?”

  Emile soared into the air before flying back down. “It’s six people wearing white armor,” he said as he landed on Tafel’s shoulder. “One of them is grumbling about imperial orders and freeing prisoners.”

  “You can hear them from here?” Tafel asked.

  Emile’s chest puffed up. “Don’t judge me by your pitiful standards. I’m a glorious phoenix.” Then he blinked. “Ah, but you’re a phoenix now too. Just tilt your head the right way and you should be able to hear them.” His head turned to the side. “Like this.”

  Tafel copied Emile’s actions.

  “Are you sure the emperor hasn’t already given orders for another adventurer party to attack the dungeons? The last three we went to were all filled with blood but no people. The dwarves were definitely already attacked,” a masculine voice said. It sounded familiar to Tafel, but she couldn’t remember from where.

  A feminine voice responded, “If the emperor already gave out a decree, he wouldn’t have sent us here. Besides, other than us, who could he send to breach the dwarven dungeons?”

  “Hey, guys,” a different masculine voice said. “Your eyes aren’t as good as mine, but if you look closely up ahead, you’ll see someone very familiar. Here’s a hint: she has horns.”

  Me? Tafel thought and blinked. I know these people? “White armor, you said?” she asked Emile. “Could they be the Fangs of Capitis?”

  “Ah?” Erin asked. “Those people?” Her eyes narrowed as she flew up into the air. “I don’t like them. I can’t count the number of times they’ve bullied my subjects and made them cry to collect their tears! They tickle my daughters until they pee! So inhumane.”

  Tafel coughed, her face turning a shade of pink. “Yes. How inhumane. They definitely deserve to be punished.”

  “Tafel!” a voice shouted. “You horned wench! If you don’t die today, then my name’s not Abel Kuhdarm!”

  “Abel! That really is the Fangs of Capitis,” Erin said as her fist clenched. Her expression blanked as she turned her head towards Tafel. “It sounds like you annoyed him a lot. What’d you do? Steal his cereal? Change his shampoo with glue? Pee in his perfume?”

  “No,” Tafel said and furrowed her brow. “Is that what fairies do?” I should check my perfume. “I fought with him once and won. Maybe he’s a sore loser.”

  “Oh,” Erin said and nodded. “Yeah, I imagine he is. Then you can beat him up again, right? I can just watch?”

  Tafel scratched her head. “Maybe,” she said. Her eyes glinted as she smiled. “Now that I think about it, he’s a perfect benchmark to test out my strength. Let’s see how much I’ve improved.” She patted Emile as her head shone with a blood-red light. “Stay here.”

  A second later, Tafel disappeared and reappeared in front of the six Fangs of Capitis. Her eyes narrowed at the person in the front. “Hi. You said you wanted to kill me?”

  “Because of you, we were lost at sea for months!” Abel’s sword glowed red as he pointed it at Tafel. “Stranded on a small vessel out in the big blue ocean—I had no privacy! For months! You could’ve teleported us outside of the ring, but you sent us off the continent!? Who wouldn’t want to kill you?” He glanced around. “Where’s Alice?”

  Tafel shrugged and tilted her head
to the side, looking past Abel’s head. “Is he always like this? It was just a few months out at sea, right?”

  “Are you provoking us?” the Fang with the axes said, taking a step forward.

  “Careful,” Charlotte said as she gripped her staff. A white circle spread out underneath the Fangs’ feet. “Don’t you see that rune on her head? She’s been imprinted. And it looks like by a phoenix.”

  “So all of you want to fight me,” Tafel said and nodded as the Fangs readied their weapons. Her horns glowed red and green as she pointed her palm at the Fangs. Violent winds picked up, swirling around her as her hand became hazy from the heat pouring out of it. “Incinerate.”

  A wall of flame burst into life, jetting out of Tafel’s palm and crashing into the six Fangs. The wind swirling around her howled, causing the flames to grow even larger. Hints of blood-red light danced along the edges and interiors of the firewall, letting out faint phoenix cries instead of the usual crackling. Tafel’s eyes narrowed as she lowered her hand and leapt backwards as a red sword cut towards her from within the flames. She twisted her torso, evading the slash, but Abel hurtled out of the fire with his upper body lowered into a tackling position. He shouted as he charged at her, a metal spike growing out of his shoulder. The spike stabbed into Tafel’s stomach and plunged deep into her, but it didn’t come out of her back; instead, her flesh seemed to swallow Abel, and he disappeared from view.

  “Gack!” someone shouted from within the flames as the sound of two armor sets colliding rang over the roaring. “Abel!?”

  Abel’s voice pierced through the crackling of the fire. “Expand the barrier! Stifle all the flames!”

  Tafel held her hand out to the side and pulled her sword out of thin air. The red locks of hair that were wrapped around it fell to the ground, revealing Chi’Rururp. The sword’s eye flashed open as a single wing sprang out of the pommel and stiffened like a scythe’s blade. “Just one wing?” Tafel asked and furrowed her brow at her sword.