Dragons were among the strongest beings in this world.
Unlike monsters—animals and plants that had undergone mana-influenced mutations—dragons were mythical beasts. Their immense power and high intelligence made them objects of worship in some places, and even children knew of them.
While all mythical beasts were known for their impressive size, dragons were most known for their diversity. Several subspecies existed—from weakest to strongest: flying and sea dragons, lesser dragons, elemental dragons, and ancient dragons. The latter, Rank 8 and above, commanded a rich variety of draconic magic. They had beautiful horns, fangs, and scales that captivated countless people.
The result was that the power of dragons was feared, admired, and spoken about in equal measure.
One such dragon—an earth dragon—had stirred from the depths of the ruins of Reisveil and begun to tread its way toward the perimeter.
That’s a very convenient story. Does this have anything to do with the Reezan breaking code and targeting the Munza?
Jaysha Hogroth, guildmaster of the Hogroth-run Adventurers’ Guild, organized her thoughts in the meeting room as staff bustled about. The first report had come in the dead of night, brought by several adventurers on their way back from an expedition: There had been a massive monster outbreak—a stampede. Though various causes were possible, such as food shortages due to the blazing heat, if the stampede had originated in Reisveil, the likeliest cause was monsters panicking en masse due to a more powerful monster stirring in the depths.
The chief possibility was that this powerful monster was an earth dragon, first spotted about a hundred years ago.
Adventurers had reported frightening roars echoing in the distance, and the old dwarf Jilgan, who had once faced an earth dragon, had estimated the sounds were almost certainly coming from one such beast. Dragon roars could inflict the status effect Panic on weak targets. Though the vocalizations of sub-dragon species didn’t have that effect, true dragons—even lesser ones—could use the primordial draconic spell Roar.
Though earth dragons had “earth” in their name, they weren’t actually elemental dragons. Earth-elemental dragons did exist but were known as gem dragons, and their sub-types were named after various precious stones: ruby, emerald, and the like. Gem dragons, however, did not inhabit the continent of Sars; the only known local varieties of elemental dragons were fire, water, ice, and wind.
Earth dragons were lesser, wingless dragons. Over hundreds or even thousands of years, they devoured elemental aethercrystals, which eventually transformed them into elemental dragons.
It was fortunate that the dragon nesting in Reisveil wasn’t an elemental dragon yet, as those were Rank 7. But as a lesser dragon, an earth dragon could sometimes pose an even greater threat, despite being Rank 6. Its exact strength would vary depending on its age, but its overall combat power would be at least 4,000. But, unlike other Rank 6 monsters, an earth dragon wasn’t particularly intelligent—and so it was vulnerable to manipulation.
Are demons controlling it...? Jaysha wondered.
Those dark elves who’d disappeared—that reeked of demon schemes. Had they coordinated with the Reezan? But jumping to the conclusion that they were working together was too rash. Other possibilities couldn’t be ignored. Should the Hogroth dwarves stay in town to handle this matter, leaving the stampede and the earth dragon to humans and beastmen?
No!
The Hogroth was a dwarven organization. As one of the leader’s children, Jaysha didn’t fully trust non-dwarves, believing only dwarven warriors such as herself and Jilgan were capable of taking on an earth dragon. A war party had already been organized to kill it—with Jaysha herself among the participants. The other monsters could be left to fighters Rank 3 and below, dwarven or otherwise.
But...
Standing before Jaysha was a human girl who was impossible to ignore. Her name was Alia, and she was a white-skinned Mercenian woman—a rare sight in this region, where the dark-skinned Krus predominated. Jaysha had first heard about Alia from her confidant and right-hand man Jilgan, who’d mentioned an “interesting human woman.” Jaysha had been both surprised and intrigued.
If Alia had been a danger, Jilgan would have eliminated her on the spot. But he hadn’t so much as fought her. Had she not been worth killing, or had he had other reasons? But she hadn’t returned to the guild, and Jaysha’s interest had begun to fade—only to be rekindled when Kushum, one of the Munza elders, reached out to offer an exclusive deal for high-grade potions as an apology for having targeted an adventurer Jilgan had marked.
That adventurer had turned out to be Alia, who was also an alchemist capable of brewing precious high-grade potions, which were quite rare in this desert. If she was a highly skilled alchemist, it made sense for the Munza to have targeted her. Apparently, their actions had gotten her in trouble with the Kiluri, and as a way of making amends, they’d offered her an alternative channel for selling her potions.
But why would the Munza—a group of wild, rough beastmen—act so meekly toward an adventurer?
Kushum’s answer to that question had made Jaysha wonder whether he’d been messing with her.
Cutlass was a town with no magical tools for long-distance communication, and therefore, information spread fastest via rumors told by merchants. They often covered matters in the neighboring Kal’Faan Empire and the United Kingdom of Ganzaal, though only juicy stories like the assassinations of kings really caught on.
One such rumor that had spread in town was the story of a girl named Cinders.
Jaysha had certainly found it interesting. A child had joined a branch of the Assassins’ Guild and destroyed it, marking her as an enemy of all other branches. Not only that, but she’d also repeatedly had run-ins with various Thieves’ Guilds. She’d become a legend—someone who had survived the two organizations, which both ordinary and shady people avoided at all costs.
Such stories were far more interesting than tales of some king going mad. They made great tavern chatter, after all, and it made sense that the rumor had traveled all the way over here. But to hear that the legend herself was in Cutlass had made Jaysha nearly smash her precious wooden table, wondering if Kushum had been mocking her.
According to the Munza elder, Alia had fought and defeated two hundred beastmen.
It was difficult even to imagine. Jaysha didn’t think she herself would’ve stood a chance against a mere hundred people. She could’ve fought them, sure, but surviving them was another story. Not only that, the Rank 4 Batil and the Fang Brothers, famous enough that Jaysha knew of them by name, had been there. How could anyone have emerged victorious?
No sane person was capable of such things. The rumors had to be exaggerated, she’d decided. She’d asked several beastmen adventurers, but they seemed to fear Alia more than they feared Jaysha or Jilgan. They’d referred to the human girl as “Desert Rose,” but said nothing else. Reportedly, her appearance was reminiscent of a solitary rose blooming in the barren desert.
When Jaysha had first seen Alia at the guild, she’d immediately understood where that impression had come from. Blonde hair with a tinge of pink was rare even among Mercenians and wood elves; it was no wonder she looked like a blooming rose to the people of this region, used to shades of black and brown.
Roses didn’t bloom in deserts, which made them extremely precious here. Merchants often offered single sorcery-processed roses as tribute to the local organizations, and those were more valuable than gems. To desert dwellers, the rose was a symbol of beauty and a source of admiration and awe.
Alia appeared to be a young adult at most, with a delicate frame that made her look more like a noblewoman than a formidable warrior. Still, Jaysha had clocked Alia as trouble the moment she’d laid eyes upon the human girl. Alia wasn’t a beautiful blade—she was a beautiful trap, poisoning anyone who dared to touch her. The men in the guild had been deceived by her appearance, thinking her frail, but as a fellow woman, Jaysha had instinctively sensed the danger.
The girl’s combat power was on the same level as Jilgan’s, and the old dwarf had fought on the front lines for decades. But in the depths of Alia’s eyes, Jaysha had seen something that belied those raw numbers—a certain spark that had immediately told her the rumors about this girl were all true.
No one would want to be on her bad side.
If Alia joined the dragon hunt, victory would certainly be likelier. But as a daughter of the Hogroth clan, Jaysha couldn’t afford to let a non-dwarf claim the glory.
Jaysha personally sympathized with Alia as a fellow female warrior, and so her attitude toward the girl was half business, half genuine. Still, protecting Cutlass was the duty of the Hogroth dwarves. As Jaysha of the Hogroth, she wanted Alia to stick to high-grade potions. As Jaysha the guildmaster, however, she acknowledged that letting such combat power go to waste would be a poor strategic move.
Though at the same time, Jaysha knew Alia was unlikely to take orders from the guild either way. So...how could she get Alia to behave optimally?
“Alia,” Jaysha said, “just protect what you must protect.”