“Are you kidding? If I had something my ma made for me like that, I wouldn’t give it up for the world. That orphan could freeze to death for all I care.”
Eve stopped short to gawk at the healer. “You really are the worst Priestess ever.”
Preston shrugged. “I’ve been saying that for years; take it up with the Stones.” He exhaled. “What I’m trying to say is: you did something good, something a hell of a lot of people wouldn’t have had the willpower to do. You should be proud.”
“Thanks, Preston.” She hugged the healer from the side as they continued their trek.
“That’s what I’m here for.” He returned the gesture. “Spiritual support.”
Wes spoke up, “I thought you were here to heal us.”
“Right, right.” He grinned. “Spiritual support and keeping you all from getting yourselves killed.” With a laugh, he pulled away from Eve. “Alright, that’s enough cuddling. We gotta be in the right mindset for murdering an innocent animal.”
Eve snorted. “Innocent my ass. According to the paperwork, this drake has killed three people.”
Wes snapped his fingers. “Three people that we know of.”
Alex, in her customary, boring way, interrupted. “And it’ll kill four more if you all don’t shut up.”
“Oh, come off it, Alex,” Wes insisted. “We’ve got at least a couple of hours before we even enter its territory.”
“That’s assuming the paperwork is accurate,” she said. “Can we at the very least refrain from announcing our presence to the high hells?”
Eve held up her hands defensively. “Alright, alright, we’ll be quieter.” She gave Wes a shrugging roll of her eyes the moment Alex turned her attention back to the road ahead.
The conversation fell silent for a few moments as they each thought their own thoughts. Eve spent the time pondering what exactly this drake had done to anger the Lady of Whispers. She could understand the old woman being paranoid enough to think the clerk would sabotage the job listing, but kidnapping Eve and paying such a high fee raised some questions.
In all likelihood Agatha had some stake in whatever trade route the beast was disrupting. Whether it was secrets or goods or illicit substances, Eve didn’t particularly care. If this drake was killing people, and someone wanted to pay her to stop it, she was onboard. Still, the mystery of Agatha’s and possibly even the guild clerk’s involvement tugged at her mind. Enough so that she spoke up, albeit quietly to satisfy Alex.
“What if we just left?”
Wes raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”
“I mean, there are jobs everywhere, right? Why should we stay in Lynthia?”
“Because it’s my home,” Preston asserted.
Eve tilted her head. “But it’s also the place with all the creepy old ladies who watch you bathe.”
“Hey, I’ll have you know that was part of a holy ritual and also that you’re absolutely right; we should leave immediately.”
Eve laughed. “I’m just tired of getting speeding tickets and being kidnapped and dealing with that asshole receptionist. Besides, we’re kind of getting to the point where we have to walk a long way to get to any jobs worth doing. Why not save time and travel out to a frontier town?”
“I don’t know,” said Wes. “We haven’t been in Lynthia that long—shouldn’t we take a bit more time before moving on?”
“We’ll have to go back anyway to turn in this drake quest. We don’t have to decide anything until then.”
“Alright.” Wes nodded. “I do like the idea of just heading north and power-leveling until we all hit tier four and can start talking to those mercenary companies.”
Preston snorted. “Still set on joining the mage’s college?”
Eve chuckled. “Maybe he’s just tired of smelling like a sewer every time he steps onto the street.”
“I’ll give you that,” the healer admitted. “Lynthia does stink.”
“So north it is? More jobs, more monsters, and more dungeons, fewer creepy old ladies and rude clerks.”
Wes faltered. “I’m not so sure about the ‘more dungeons’ bit. Remember last time we—”
He stopped short as a cry rang out, echoing across the hills from the road ahead. Though no words survived the bloodcurdling screech, Eve had no trouble identifying it as distinctly human.
“Shit,” Preston cursed.
Alex leveled her spear, taking off into a calculated run forward. “Let’s go!”
The boys followed. Eve Charged!
She didn’t bother keeping to the road, instead making a beeline directly for the summit of the nearest hill. The wind swept around her as she ran, her heart racing faster with every step. Eve threw back her arm, allowing her pack to slide off it and fall to the ground. She could worry about loot and supplies later.
By the time she reached the closest peak, the cries had already silenced. She was too late.
A green-scaled monstrosity, easily thirty feet long from tail to tip, chewed on a limp and bleeding corpse—a wandering Bard if the worn lute on the ground next to him was any indicator. Eve’s heart sank as she watched it chomp down once more on the poor man before dragging the carcass away from the road. She drew her daggers.
“Wait!” Alex called from her vantage on the path below.
Eve grit her teeth, her blood burning as she forced herself not to run in. “It killed him,” she growled.
The warrior scurried up the hill. “Which means we don’t need to rush in to save him. We wait, we follow it, we let your Charge! come off cooldown, and we attack while it’s feeding.”
Eve swallowed, slowly nodding as she watched the duration of her most important skill slowly tick away. With a sigh, she shoved her daggers back into her belt. “Alright.”
The women watched from the hilltop as Wes and Preston caught up and returned her bag, waiting for the drake to carry its prey towards whatever den it kept. Eve took the lead after it.
The creature’s bright scales glimmered in the sun, running up and down its entire body to meet in brutal spines across its back. Vicious claws sank into the soft earth as it walked, tugging up clumps of grass with every step. Its most intimidating feature was that which most infuriated Eve: its deadly maw.
The thing’s snout was wide enough to completely envelop the dead man’s torso, his limbs swinging limply in the air as his blood dripped down the drake’s chin. The beast trekked on.
The four companions kept their distance from the predator, tracking its movements as they prepared for their time to strike. It came twenty minutes into the hunt.
In a small valley curiously absent of any sort of nest or remains of other kills, the monster curled up to pick apart its prey. Eve drew her knives, checking the Mana on the one she’d been charging for the past days.
Manacharge Dagger
Rarity: Rare
Mana: 298/500
It’d have to be enough. Her Appraise of the creature itself proved less informative.
Level ?? Lesser Drake
“At least it’s lesser,” she muttered, “whatever that’s worth.”
“Ready?” Alex asked.
Three heads nodded yes in answer.
“Let’s do this.” The warrior leveled her spear, advancing into the valley. Eve followed, keeping at her side for the time being. The drake, too distracted with its meal, failed to notice their approach.
Alex landed the first blow.
The air flashed white as her spear dug into the creature’s side, sending a deafening boom echoing through the valley. A horrific roar followed. The burst of Mana sent Alex reeling backwards as the drake recoiled.
Eve Charged! slamming her uncharged dagger into the beast’s flank. Her momentum drove the blade deep, but it slid free as the monster stood. Inertia carried her forward, sending her careening beneath the creature’s massive frame. Her heart raced as a combination of practice and Surefooted-ness kept her in control enough to dodge the thick leg that came crashing down before her.
The Striker took the opportunity to plunge a dagger into the muscular limb, again choosing to use the uncharged weapon. She’d only get one shot at her own Mana explosion, and Eve had loftier plans than taking out a leg.
Her knife sliced through the creature’s hamstring, sending it collapsing back to the earth as Eve dashed away. It turned to snap at her, but a Fire Dart to the eye pulled its attention away.
Alex stepped between Wes and the monstrosity, posturing her spear to keep its maw at bay. It lunged anyway.
The Survivor’s spear caught it in the mouth, piercing its cheek just enough to send the attack wide. A wicked fang passed just barely by Alex’s head, driving instead through the warrior’s shoulder. Her armor didn’t even slow it.
She screamed, clutching desperately to the drake’s lower lip as it raised its head, taking her with it. Gold and orange filled the valley as Preston and Wes alike channeled their spells.
No amount of healing could free the writhing warrior. She remained conscious by some miracle of her class and Constitution, continuing to strike at the beast with everything she had even as it swung her around like a child’s plaything.
Eve dashed in. Her Charge! still ticked as she raced around the raging draconid, but its seconds were running low. Adrenaline Rushed through her. She activated Fate-al Blow.
Alex cried out.
Wes distracted the beast with another Fire Dart.
Eve leapt.
The dagger missed its mark, striking inches away from the drake’s exposed throat. Inches were close enough.
Three hundred points of raw Mana exploded into soft flesh, unhindered by the viridian scales which the blade had done its job to bypass.
Eve Jetted to the side, tearing Alex from the creature’s maw as her skill launched her away from the burst of energy and blood. Pain shot up her arm as the two landed hard on a nearby hillside.
A piteous wail rang through the valley as the drake failed to find the necessary breath to properly roar. It crashed to the ground, tail and snout alike thrashing about in agonized rage. The party stood clear.
The Striker winced as golden light forced its way into her, patching up her various wounds even as it condescended her for getting them. She and Alex both made a complete recovery under Preston’s holy glow, each making it to their feet in time to watch the creature finally still.
A wide grin stretched across Eve’s face as the notification appeared.
You have defeated Level 41 Lesser Drake: +3920 exp!
Ayla’s tits, she cursed to herself. That’s a lot of exp for a level forty-one. In the post-battle high of fading adrenaline, Eve didn’t even care it wasn’t enough to level up. With their lower levels, Wes and Preston probably got a shitload.
She opened her mouth to inquire what kinds of rewards her tier two companions had received, but the echo of a muffled squealing from behind the next hill stopped her short. “Did you hear that?”
“It sounds like…” Wes trailed off, scurrying up the slope to peer into the valley beyond. “Holy shit.”
“What is it?” Preston called up after him.
“There’s a nest,” the mage answered. “And, uh… apparently drakes have hoards too.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Drakes Have Hoards Too
EVE STOOD ATOP the shallow hill, carefully surveying the valley below with narrowed eyes. “This has got to be the shittiest dragon hoard I’ve ever seen.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow. “And how many dragon hoards have you seen, exactly?”
“None,” she chirped. “But this one’s still the worst.”
She had a point. The layer of stolen shoulder packs, bedrolls, and broken tents demonstrated just exactly how the draconid had come across its ill-gotten gains. Most notably, an inordinate number of pots and pans littered the trash heap. Eve wondered if the drake had intercepted a shipment of cookware or simply attacked a particularly well-equipped chef.
“Aww, cut her some slack,” Preston said. “It’s not like she had an entire mountain of goblins desperately mining to bring her tribute. She did what she could.”
Alex grimaced. “You mean she killed innocent people to steal their supplies.”
“Wait,” Wes stepped in. “She?”
“Male drakes don’t lay eggs.” The healer pointed across the hoard towards a grass nest where a glimmering eggshell lay shattered. A muffled squeak rang out from somewhere amidst the clutter.
“Shit,” Eve cursed. “There’s a baby somewhere in this mess, isn’t there?”
Preston perked up. “We have to help it!”
“We have to what?” Alex asked.
“We just killed its mama. The poor thing needs us.”
“We killed its mama that, need I remind you, ate an innocent person while we fucking watched!”
“To be fair,” Wes chuckled, “I wouldn’t exactly consider Bards ‘innocent.’ Or ‘people’ for that matter.”
“Hold on,” Eve interrupted. “If we killed its mama, does that mean there’s a papa around here somewhere?”
Preston shrugged. “Paperwork only mentioned one. Either papa’s already dead or he’s wandered off somewhere. I don’t know enough about drake behavior to say for sure, but if he were here we’d probably know.”
The Striker tilted her head. “That’s good enough for me. Come on, let’s see if she hoarded anything worth salvaging.” She took off down the hill eager to sort through the massive collection of odds and ends. She might not have gotten a level for killing the drake, but she sure as hells was going to get some loot.
Wes waded in after her.
“Be careful!” Preston called as he too carefully descended into the clutter. “You don’t want to accidentally step on the little guy.”
Eve rolled her eyes at the warning but nevertheless minded her step as she maneuvered around a broken wagon. Baby monsters aside, there were enough sharp points and broken edges in the vicinity that tripping and falling would be ill advised. Still she continued, picking through the frayed ropes and spent torches for anything worthwhile.
Even Alex joined the effort, shifting the chaff aside with the butt of her spear to see what hid below.
Unfortunately, only the women seemed to put any real effort into the search for valuables. Preston spent the time peeking around and under various pieces and making soft cooing noises, while Wes understandably flicked between picking through the hoard and reading his status messages.
Eve was just in the middle of shoving a coiled rope into her pack when a muttered expletive drew her attention.
“Bandir’s balls,” Wes cursed. “Look at this!” In his hand he held a battered iron pan into the air as if it were a torch.
For a moment, the other three adventures simply stared in silent confusion at the gesture, before, like a torch, the dented metal came alight with orange flames. The crackling blaze licked at the dark iron, consuming it with the same insatiable hunger as it did all things.
In her awe at the impressive display, Eve failed to notice the shadow that fell across Wes’s face or the flash of fear that flickered with it. He recovered well.
“Wes, that’s awesome!” Preston said.
“Isn’t it? No more fireproof golems for me.” He looked up at the flaming cookware, still structurally sound even as the inferno claimed it. “Looks like it’ll take a while to make its way through, though.”
“That’s a good thing,” Eve said. “If you could burn through walls, you could burn through buildings. You don’t want one stray Fire Dart to burn down a dungeon with us inside.”
“True enough,” he replied, “but I can always extinguish anything I start with Flame Manipulation.” A wide grin overtook the mage’s face. “Oh and by the way, it’s not Fire Dart anymore.”
The Striker laughed. “Let me guess, Dart of the Devouring Flame?”
Wes snorted. “No, I’ve only got three abilities ‘of the devouring flame.’ It’s Fire Bolt now.”
“Look at you.” Prest
on lifted his head from where he’d been searching. “You’re a full-fledged fire mage now.”
“You kidding?” Eve smirked. “He’s not a full-fledged fire mage until he knows Fireball.”
“Hey, I’m better than that. Fire Mage is a tier two Uncommon.”
“Hold up,” Alex’s voice broke apart the lighthearted banter. “I think I’ve found something.” She reached into the debris to withdraw a wooden club topped with a fist-sized chunk of steel lined with brutal ridges. It looked like something that would leave a dent. “It’s not enchanted, but we could definitely sell it for a few dozen silver.”
Eve and Wes shared a look as they recalled what the blacksmith had told her. “Actually,” Eve announced, “I think I could use it. It’ll be hard to keep hold of, but something blunt would be great for an opening blow with a Charge!’s worth of momentum behind it.”
The Survivor paused, opening her mouth for a few seconds before actually speaking. “Right. Looking at you, I keep forgetting you have a lot of physical force behind your mobility.”
Eve furrowed her brow, looking down at her admittedly stick-like frame. “I’m not that frail.”
Alex pointed the morningstar at Wes. “Standing next to him you are.”
She rolled her eyes at the overly muscular fire mage. “Everybody looks frail next to Wes. Just give me the mace.”
Wes opened his mouth to either protest or brag, but Alex didn’t let him.
“Right, right,” she said, wading through the sorry hoard to hand over the weapon. “Here you go.”
Eve grasped the leather-bound handle, swinging the powerful club. The weapon felt eerily light in her grip, bringing up memories of dragging the rusty sword through the dirt with both hands. She marveled at the difference an extra seventy Strength made.
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 23