Dragon Heart

by Kirill Klevanski

  “Goodbye, dragon man.” Ragar whispered.

  He expected to see his opponent get covered in ice and then shatter. This was the effect of his Technique, which he’d found on the walls of a cave where a wandering Lord had once meditated, seeking inspiration on the path of the Snow Spirit.

  Ragar was shocked when, instead of a death cry, he saw only an unshakable resolve in the other man’s blue eyes! A mad smile spread across his foe’s face, and then he blurred into the shadow of the Seven Ravens.

  The sphere only managed to brush against the edge of Hadjar’s right side. Even so, he heard his ribs crack and his internal organs get damaged. If not for his Technique for Strengthening the Body, this glancing blow would’ve severed the thread of Hadjar’s life. Tossed aside by it, he spat out blood and watched Ragar, who didn’t understand why his Technique had missed. Unfortunately, the Knight didn’t really have time to analyze things.

  “The beautiful warriors have been waiting for you, Sunshine’s dog,” came from above.

  Einen appeared from the shadows directly above Ragar’s head. Three stones glittered in his hands. Two were large and one was quite small.

  “Come on, Hadjar!” The islander cried.

  He opened his hands, dropping the artifacts on Ragar, who’d already raised his hands and said the mighty word:

  “Winter!”

  A gust of cold gripped the air around him. The momentum of the three stones slowed. It was as if they were gliding through the air instead of falling.

  Hadjar, using the last dregs of his energy, swung his sword just once. A blue crescent with black sparks trapped inside it flew from the edge of Mountain Wind’s blade. It cut through the ice crystals forming in the air. Behind Ragar, the snow wolf howled louder and louder, giving its master even more power. Despite that, Hadjar’s attack reached its target before the ice bound the stones, turning them to snow dust.

  When the first cracks appeared on the stones that had been cut into, and the alien energy then poured into them, such a powerful storm of energy filled the air that Hadjar felt as if he were being sucked inside the artifacts. A moment later, he realized he wasn’t imagining the sensation at all.

  There was so much energy within the three stones that it would be enough to fuel ten ‘Snow Tears’. All that energy exploded when Hadjar forced his own energy into them with his attack. The shell of the artifacts crumbled to dust. Three multicolored wisps of light swirled in the air. Their power of absorption was so great that it tore the ice from the walls and split the stones in half. Gray ribbons of stone dust reached out toward the three spheres and swirled around them, disappearing somewhere in their center.

  Einen was thrown out of the shadows. Landing next to Shakh, following Hadjar’s example, he thrust his spear into the floor and shielded the unconscious Shakh. As for the witches and the sorcerer, Einen had tied them to a pillar before he’d removed the stones from their staffs and book.

  “Pathetic cowards!” Ragar growled. The epicenter of the energy explosion was directly over his head. While the two of them were struggling to resist the strong pull, he was fighting it... “I am Ragar Snow Wolf, and I won’t die to this wretched trick! I’ll make your deaths so awful that the ancestors who meet you will cry bloody tears at your agony!”

  The wolf spirit behind Ragar flared so brightly that it blotted out the light from the explosion. Dozens of ice fists and hands slammed into the three spheres. They gradually got covered in a layer of ice. Ragar snarled and unleashed one attack after another. The giant of a man looked like a fisherman trying to overcome all the fury of a devastating storm using just a schooner.

  For a fraction of a second, Ragar managed to do it: all three spheres were covered in a layer of ice. The northerner smiled triumphantly. His armor was in tatters. The rings of his chainmail dug into his skin. Blood trickled down his face and arms, and his skin and flesh were peeling away, exposing his bones. As he turned to face his stunned foes, there was a crash behind him.

  The explosion was so powerful that the blast wave easily obliterated Ragar. The others, who were a good ten yards away from the epicenter, were nailed to the floor. Deep cracks ran along the whole floor. The ceiling trembled and huge stones fell from it. The columns cracked. The paper and ancient scrolls turned to dust.

  Through the swirling whirlwinds of energy and power that had wrought terrible destruction, Hadjar saw another stone fall from the ceiling.

  Well, he’d done this sort of thing once before… Except three magical artifacts hadn’t blown up in the process and he hadn’t killed someone as mighty as a Spirit Knight.

  ***

  When Tilis opened her eyes, she couldn’t understand where she was. The last thing she’d seen was the library of Mage City and the enraged Spirit Knight. Now she was in the middle of some cave. If it hadn’t been for the distant corridors, shelves, and the remnants of the columns, she would’ve thought that she’d been transported somewhere else.

  Drip. Drip.

  Drops of something landed on her cheeks. Tilis looked up and saw Hadjar. He was standing over her, and on his shoulders lay a huge fragment of the ceiling. Its sharp edges had pierced through Hadjar’s shoulders and chest. Warm, dark blood ran down his battered head. He refused to pass out and let the stone fall on her.

  Guided by instinct, Tilis rolled aside, startled. Hadjar dropped his burden and collapsed into a pool of his own blood.

  Chapter 411

  Einen was the first to reach Hadjar. He gently turned his friend over onto his back, held his lips open, uncorked a bottle of potion with his teeth, and then poured the liquid down his throat. Hadjar coughed, trying to spit out the foul concoction, but the islander held his nose and mouth tightly shut, forcing Hadjar to swallow.

  His wounds started healing. His body burned so hard that tears flowed from his eyes, despite the fact that Hadjar had both a strong body and an iron will. However, the pain was so sharp that he wanted to howl and bite his own hands to somehow drown it out.

  “Endure, barbarian,” Einen whispered, keeping his friend from trying to hurt himself. “It’s an extract made from a sea devil’s blood. It’ll help.”

  After just two minutes, which felt like an eternity to Hadjar, all that remained of his wounds were horrible, jagged scars. It was as if no one had ever treated him or tried to sow the wounds closed, leaving his body to deal with the problem by itself.

  However, a few extra ugly scars on his torso didn’t bother Hadjar at all. It was already hard enough to find spots on his body where there were no scars. He even had a few on his face, but they looked like almost imperceptible, white stripes.

  “Thank… you…” Hadjar said numbly.

  He looked around. The library looked awful: the explosion had destroyed the entire hall, ruining thousands of ancient books and scrolls. There was a huge, smooth crater in the floor. Along the walls, or rather what was left of them, were hemispherical recesses, which formed a smooth ball when combined.

  Nothing remained of Ragar’s body. Even his armor and gauntlets hadn’t survived the blast of energy, even though they’d been much tougher than the Spirit Knight’s body. Hadjar doubted that even Traves would have walked away from such a catastrophe unscathed.

  Einen didn’t waste time. He had left Shakh leaning against the wall farthest from the explosion. He was unconscious, but breathing steadily. There were wounds on his chest and arms, but they weren’t deep. Karissa and Ramukhan, also unconscious, lay beside him. They almost appeared to be unscathed. Except for extreme exhaustion, they hadn’t even taken much damage. Shakh coughed suddenly, and his body shook.

  “Are you okay?” Einen asked.

  Hadjar nodded.

  “Go help the boy.”

  “He isn’t a boy anymore.” The islander smiled.

  Putting Hadjar back down on the cold stone still covered in ice, Einen went over to Shakh. The islander had also been injured, but he was the only one who could stand on his own, without any help. In addition, aft
er breaking through and becoming a Wielder of the Spear, he’d received a fairly substantial increase in his energy reserves. Since he’d only used three Techniques during the battle, he was now the only combat-ready member of the squad.

  “Why did you save me, northerner?” Tilis suddenly asked.

  Hadjar turned his head. Tilis sat on the rocks by his side. She was nervously twirling her staff, probably anxious about the fact they’d torn off the magic artifact at its top to defeat Ragar. It probably wouldn’t stop her from casting magic, but it would most likely greatly affect the outcome.

  “Your sister asked me to,” Hadjar said with a pained smile. “I don’t think I can be called a northerner anymore.”

  Tilis shuddered and looked away. Hadjar understood her perfectly. He too had once been a little frog, sitting in its well and believing that that was the whole world. Even though Tilis personally knew the Sage of Underworld City, who was at the Lord level, she’d never fought him. They had only sparred. It was difficult to grasp the full power of the monster standing in front of you when they’re holding back.

  Ragar had shaken Tilis’ confidence in her abilities. It was a kind of spiritual wound that could put an end to one’s path of cultivation. Only a person with an indomitable will could reach the dizzying heights of true mastery. Any doubts, any hesitation, even the smallest bit, could lead to failure.

  “You know,” she said dryly, her fingers still toying with the staff, “I came up with the oath because I thought you and Einen would betray us.”

  Hadjar looked at Einen. The islander was hovering around Shakh, pouring something into his mouth and rubbing his chest, which was covered in black spots of frostbite.

  “I’m glad that he proved you wrong.”

  “Yep.” Tilis’ smile was lifeless and forced, but it was better than her threats and insults. “I’ll ask Karissa why one of her men was Sankesh’s spy later.”

  “You can ask her,” Hadjar agreed, “if you really care.”

  The conversation stalled. They both needed to say just a few words to each other, but... to practitioners and cultivators, their own integrity often became one of the pillars of their life. Oftentimes, this would be replaced by another, simpler, and at the same time, more dangerous one — pride. Many of them, after confusing honor and integrity with pride, were ready to give up their lives if need be, but would never ‘bow their heads’.

  “I want to-”

  “I want to-”

  They fell silent. Avoiding each other’s eyes, they stared at something in the void of their own thoughts.

  Einen finished treating Shakh. He was about to approach his friend, but, after seeing the situation, decided to stay near the young man for a while.

  “I guess I’ve always known.” Tilis spoke first.

  In matters of feelings, women were almost always bolder than men.

  “I’m sorry-”

  “No,” Tilis interrupted him, shaking her fiery hair. “I knew it back when I saw you at the entrance to Underworld City. The amulet you brought with you… It couldn’t have been taken by force... and even if that had happened, the city guards would’ve received a signal, but... There was no signal.”

  There was silence again.

  Hadjar didn’t know what Tilis was thinking about. He was reliving the moment when Serra had smiled at him as she gave her life to take the Governor with her. The man who’d killed his brother and her husband. Hadjar hated himself for not saving her. He hated himself for not being able to save Serra. He hated himself for the fact that it had been Serra, and not him, who had sent the bastard who’d killed Nero to his forefathers. It gnawed at him every day.

  “I didn’t kill her…”

  “I know.”

  “By the High Heavens, I am still to blame for her death!” Hadjar clenched his fists. “If only I’d been a little… Damn it!”

  Tilis looked at the man in front of her. She’d hated him for so long that she could scarcely understand why. Probably because he had come back to her instead of her sister.

  “Tell me about her,” Tilis asked suddenly, “tell me about my sister.”

  And Hadjar did. It didn’t take long, only five minutes, no more. While he absorbed the energy of the world, reinforcing his Technique for Strengthening the Body, he talked about Serra: about how they’d first met, how they had fought together, about their many perilous adventures, how she’d loved his brother, how they had gotten married. How he’d ruined their wedding, which would remain with him forever as one of his deepest regrets. About her death. Had it been revenge? Or had she simply been unable to live without Nero? Maybe the attack that had pierced her heart had just been too much for her? Who knew…? Not he.

  “You loved her.” Tilis wiped some drops of water from her cheeks. The ice on the ceiling must have started to melt…

  Hadjar wanted to say something sincere and heartfelt, but... he couldn’t. He couldn’t, because sometimes it was harder to admit that you were lost than it was to help someone else find their way to the light. Besides, there was an obvious excuse he could use.

  Karissa and Ramukhan had woken up.

  “What happened to the Knight?” The sorcerer asked.

  “He’s dead,” Einen answered.

  A second later, Karissa and Ramukhan discovered that their weapons had lost their magic artifacts. They started shouting and arguing. The islander tried to reason with them. Tilis and Hadjar didn’t react. They continued to stare into the depths of their souls. Now they could both breathe more freely, a little, not much, but enough to feel a difference.

  Chapter 412

  “You look... so happy... as if we... won.”

  Shakh lifted himself into a half-sitting position. He didn’t care that no one was happy. A moment before the young man had woken up, Einen had managed to calm Karissa and Ramukhan. They were still very angry at the loss of their magic artifacts.

  As it turned out, each of the stones they’d used as explosives was worth at least sixty imperial coins. Sixty imperial coins! It was an incredible sum. There was no asset in the whole of Lidus, except perhaps the mine of Solar Ore, which could cost such a sum.

  “Shakh’s right.” Ramukhan stopped complaining. “We’ve won the battle, but not the war.”

  Hadjar looked at his companions.

  Tilis, pale and staring off into the distance, couldn’t escape the labyrinth of her own soul. Even if she had a working magic staff and twice her usual amount of power, she still wouldn’t be able to fight. Her shock was too deep. Moreover, if she didn’t recover from it soon, she wouldn’t be able to cultivate anymore. She wouldn’t be able to help.

  Without her magic book, Karissa could do nothing. Besides, they didn’t have enough elixirs and energy-restoring pills for her... So, she was also helpless.

  And so was Ramukhan. Like the witches, the sorcerer was a pitiful sight without his magic artifact. There was no reason to spend alchemical drugs on them.

  Only the practitioners remained.

  Shakh had frostbite and severe wounds. Besides, one of his daggers had been damaged in the explosion. Even though the practitioners, unlike those who followed the ‘true path’, weren’t so dependent on their weapons, the young man had still lost about a third of his attack power. In the end, only Einen and Hadjar were capable of fighting. Everyone else was dead weight, more or less.

  “It seems like we won’t win the war.” Karissa smiled sadly.

  Hadjar rose to his feet, grunting and leaning on his sword. Staggering, he held onto a fragment of the column. The stone bit into his skin, leaving behind another cut. Einen looked at him with obvious disapproval. Apparently, the elixir which he had poured down his friend’s throat had cost him a lot.

  “Baldy,” Hadjar nodded to his friend, “drink a quarter of the elixirs.”

  “Why him?” Shakh asked resentfully.

  The young man had lost all his friends and acquaintances. His uncle Rahaim, Kharad, Sular, Ilmena… They had all died. Shakh had nev
er believed the two strangers.

  “What are you up to, Hadjar?” Einen’s eyes narrowed. Despite that, the islander’s face remained impassive.

  “Lead them out of here.” Hadjar picked up the bag of useless talismans and amulets.

  He pulled out a handful of pills and, ignoring everyone’s outrage, put them in his mouth. The sensation was akin to the first time he’d been connected to the neural network in his previous life. He felt like electricity was surging through him.

  Cold, alien energy poured into his reserves. Alchemical solutions were always very different from the natural process of absorbing power from the World River. That was why Hadjar resorted to using them only in the most extreme cases.

  The body would, at best, digest a quarter of such energy. Hadjar had seen addicts that couldn’t live without the pills. It was much easier to take elixirs than to spend hours in deep meditation. However, this path led nowhere.

  Hadjar wiped his lips and tossed the bag over to Einen. There were only a few potions and pills left, but that should be enough to let Einen gain enough power to go back.

  “Leave this place,” Hadjar repeated, and gestured toward one of the corridors. “The exit is that way. Take three right turns, go forward twice, and then take a left. Continue forward until you get to the center of a large square. You will find a magical seal there. Activate it and you’ll be transported to the edge of the lake.”

  There was utter silence. It was broken only by the creaking of the leather bag Einen was clutching.

  “If I were Glen, may his forefathers spit in his face,” Ramukhan said, “I’d ask: why the hell do you know all that?”

  Hadjar didn’t know how to answer that question. He just knew. Just like he knew that the library and the island would begin to collapse in an hour. The flying island… The image of clouds, fields, and woods flashed before his mind’s eye. The Shadow of the last mage from the ancient civilization had said something about it finally being able to leave. Apparently, it would take the small source of energy that kept the island in the sky with it when it did.