Interlude 2:
Delicious Dragon Meat
A BARRIER WAS erected around the deepest depths of the forest that lay to the southeast of Shul’cucu Kingdom’s city of Rellim, as the area was inhabited by particularly strong monsters. Numerous mages worked together to erect this barrier, and once a year they would return to conjure it anew. This prevented any of the vicious beasts from escaping. Once in a blue moon, a crack would form in the barrier, and a monster within would sneak out. Whenever that happened, high-ranking adventurers would exterminate it.
There were also creatures so powerful that the barrier didn’t affect them, such as the legendary monster Fenrir.
One such Fenrir was taking a merry stroll about the forest. Well, perhaps “stroll” wasn’t the right word, since he wasn’t merely walking about; he felled any monster that stood in his way and stopped to enjoy the delicious fruits he found. This Fenrir was living the free life out here in the forest.
“The sun is awfully bright today,” he said to himself. Why not take a dip to reduce some of the heat beating down on him?
The Fenrir made his way to his favorite spring, which was imbued with mana. This was a resting spot for all the monsters and animals of the forest. The surrounding area was a small meadow, the spring itself a perfect circle with all sorts of precious herbs growing around it. It was the perfect spot for one to heal their wounds.
When the Fenrir arrived, there were already several other monsters enjoying the cool water of the spring.
“Hmph.”
He was the king of this forest, so he thought he should address those beneath him. He eyed them, contemplating what to say, but before he could...
“Hoo!”
“Grah, grah!”
With their tails tucked between their legs, the other monsters fled the moment they spotted him. What a shame; the Fenrir didn’t particularly mind them using the spring.
He snorted to himself. He was accustomed to being alone by this point.
“I am a proud warrior. This is how things should be,” he said to himself.
The waters of the spring were so clear that he could see all the way to their depths. The second he dipped his feet inside, the fish fled.
“Hmph.”
He ignored them and dove under, letting the liquid soak his coat as he paddled forward. The Fenrir didn’t spend much time inside the spring; it wasn’t his nature to spend too much time bathing. He climbed back onto land soon enough, shaking the moisture from his coat, sending a fine spray through the air. Once he was done, he used a little magic to finish drying his coat, and his fur went right back to its normal, fluffy consistency. He peered back in the water to check the results.
“Yes, I look as striking as ever!” he declared, pleased.
He’d drunk some of the water while he bathed, and now that he was done with that, his stomach was gurgling adorably at him.
“Hm, yes, I’m quite famished.”
The Fenrir had already filled himself with succulent fruit. Next, he wanted some hearty meat. This forest was massive, with strong monsters everywhere. The stronger they were, the more delectable they tasted, and the more he enjoyed his prize. There were a few exceptions, however; there were monsters he didn’t want to eat, such as orcs. They were ugly, and they didn’t look like they’d taste good, either. He’d never sampled them to see if he was right about this, but he didn’t care to try.
“A dragon would be perfect...”
The Fenrir had been obsessed with dragon meat several centuries prior. His voracious appetite for them had led to a scarcity in their number ever since. There were still a few to be found here and there, of course, but even with the superior power of his nose, the Fenrir still had difficulty locating any. But sometimes the effort was worth the payoff.
“I’ll run along the tree branches and search for one,” he decided.
If he neared one, he would know it right away by their distinct scent.
The wind rippled through his silver-gold fur as he danced gracefully atop the trees, sniffing for his draconic prey. It had been so long since he last tasted dragon meat. He’d been feasting on other monsters and fruits lately.
Speaking of delicious food, I’ve heard there are humans with special skills that allow them to make especially delicious food. Not that a proud Fenrir like himself would ever deign to eat anything a mere human made, of course.
After sprinting for a while, he caught a whiff of a distinctly draconic scent. His target was probably a few miles away. With his speed, he could reach it in the span of a few minutes. He sped up until a Ruby Dragon entered his view. The sun glinted off its red scales, its size twice that of the Fenrir’s. Sadly for this dragon, it was no match for a proud Fenrir warrior.
“Being that big simply means more delicious meat for me. You don’t stand a chance.”
He leaped toward it, latching onto the dragon’s neck and sinking his teeth in. On the edge of the Fenrir’s vision, he spotted a human paralyzed in terror. What is a human doing in this forest? The Fenrir used his claws to pierce the dragon’s scales, ending its life. Then, curious, he started toward the human.
What happened next, the Fenrir never could have predicted. Impossible words echoed through the air, and light enveloped the wolf.
“Tame!”
He never imagined any human could be so foolish as to tame a proud Fenrir. And he actually succeeded?
The human in question was clad in unfamiliar clothes that offered no protection. The Fenrir wanted to demand what he was doing all the way out here, completely unprepared for the dangers around him. But something about the man’s aura told the wolf he was no lost adventurer. If this human was capable of successfully taming a Fenrir such as himself, he had to be terrifically strong. And that made the critter all the more curious about the man.
Actually, I wouldn’t say I’m “curious”... It was more like he was worried for this man’s well-being. No, it wasn’t that he felt particularly protective over his new master, rather...there was something about his face that made the Fenrir want to fuss over him. He has a strange aura for a human.
The human had to be special. How else could he have succeeded at taming a proud Fenrir such as himself? Well, I don’t mind being amicable with him.
“So, um...” said the human.
He apparently possessed the skill Speak with Monsters, and that excited the Fenrir, since it meant the two could communicate. He tempered that excitement however, still perturbed the human had tamed him from the very moment of their meeting.
“You,” howled the Fenrir. “How dare you tame me like that!”
“Oh, uh... I’m sorry.”
“How could I, a proud Fenrir, be forced to serve a Tamer?!”
Although I suppose I should praise you for standing your ground instead of running for your life! The Fenrir quite liked the human for that. Much more than he did the animals who had fled at the spring the moment he appeared. And Tamers are supposed to bestow a name upon any monster that they tame.
Being the proud Fenrir that he was, he didn’t necessarily need a name, but it wouldn’t be a terrible thing to have. He pelted the human with numerous complaints and moved in that direction, demanding a name for himself.
That was how the proud Fenrir warrior came to be called Luke.