by Virlyce
“But you’re afraid of heights…,” the boy said.
“Shut up!” The girl kicked him with her heel.
“Ow!” The boy grimaced and grabbed his leg. “You better behave yourself when we get to the capital or I’m telling Grandpa. He’ll be so mad at you if you get us kicked out because you offended the wrong person.”
One of the guards cleared his throat. “Young masters, there appears to be a disturbance ahead. I suspect some bandits are harassing a poor fellow. Should we go around them or pass straight through?”
The boy rubbed his chin. “Let’s go around—”
“Straight through!” the girl said and pointed ahead. “I’m not spending another day on these wooden chairs because of some stupid bandits.” The boy sighed and shook his head but didn’t say anything.
The caravan continued forward until it reached a group of people; five men with machetes stood in front of a masked monk. The caravan slowed down but carried onwards as the bandits made no move to hinder its progress.
“They’re not going to stop us?” the girl asked as she leaned over the boy to look out the window. “I wanted to get some exercise before the competition.”
One of the bandits waved his arm, motioning for the caravan to hurry forward.
“Wait, why don’t they have to pay the toll too?” the monk asked. The monk was wearing a smiling raccoon mask that had narrow slits for eyeholes. “Isn’t the toll required for everyone?”
“They’re bandits, stupid! There’s no toll on these roads,” the girl stuck her head out the window and shouted at the group that was now behind the caravan.
“Lillian! Don’t stick your head out like that,” the boy said as he dragged her back into the caravan. “What if they shot at you?”
Lillian stuck her tongue out at the boy.
“Should we stop to help him?” one of the guards asked. “Monks are good people. They don’t—”
Cracking sounds filled the air behind the caravan. Screams echoed through the surrounding area, causing birds to scatter from the nearby trees. The screams were soon cut off by crunching noises. The guards looked at each other while dismounting and unsheathed their swords as Lillian shoved the boy aside to look out the window. She shuddered and fell back in her seat with a pale face. “M-monster,” she whispered.
The boy picked himself off the floor and raised the window’s curtain. A raccoon’s face was smiling at him with blood spatters along its cheeks. The boy screamed and fell backwards onto Lillian.
“Hi! Thanks for telling me they were bandits,” the monk said to the trembling pair. “They’re dead now. You can stop screaming.”
Lillian stiffened and nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, but only a squeaking noise came out.
“You killed them?” one of the guards asked, his sword at the ready. He eyed the bloody metal staff in the monk’s hand.
“Yeah.” The monk nodded. “They tried to stab me after she yelled.”
The guard grunted. “I see,” he said as he retreated back towards the driver’s seat with his sword still out. “We’ll be going first then—if that’s okay with you.”
“Okay,” the monk said and strapped the metal staff to his back. He walked back to the bandit corpses and rummaged through their clothes.
The caravan traveled onwards, and the two teenagers exchanged glances with each other. “That was scary,” Lillian said as she bit her lower lip. “When he stood over those bandits and turned to look at me, I thought I was going to die. I’ve never felt that way before—not even when Grandpa’s lion roared at me.”
“Do you think he’s going to the competition?” the boy asked as he scratched his head. “I don’t see why someone that strong would be traveling in this direction by himself. Adventurers travel away from the capital, not towards it.”
“Competition?” a voice asked from outside the window.
Everyone in the caravan stiffened and turned to their right. The monk was jogging alongside the caravan.
“Y-yeah,” Lillian said after a moment. “The competition for the spirits’ blessings.”
“Oh. I think that’s where I’m going,” the monk said and nodded. “Are you going there as well?”
“Umm.” The boy’s face stiffened as he smiled. “Yeah, would you like a ride?”
Lillian’s face paled. “Are you out of your mind?!” she whispered and pinched the boy’s side.
“Sure,” the monk said as he jumped towards the window and slipped through with ease. “Thanks. I was getting tired of running.”
“Yeah, of course,” the boy said with wide eyes. “My name is Paul. This is my cousin, Lillian. She doesn’t know how to control her mouth, so please don’t be offended by anything she says. We’re from the Leonis household. What about you?”
“I’m Vurrrr…durr?” Vur said with a questioning tone and nodded. “I’m Vurdurr. I’m not sure what household I come from. Hmm, what was Tafel’s last name…? I think it was the Besteck household?”
“Besteck?” Lillian asked as her brow creased. “Isn’t that the demon lord’s—”
Paul nudged Lillian in the ribs before she could finish her sentence. She glared at him.
“You’re really strong,” Paul said to Vur and sighed. “I really don’t want to compete against you in the competition. I’m a bishop and Lillian’s a hunter.”
“Why would we compete?” Vur asked as he tilted his head and rested his staff against the wall.
“You’re a monk, right? There can only be one winner for the healer position,” Paul said. “There’s a tank slot, which is most definitely going to be taken by the prince. One healer, three attackers, and one support tank. We’d be competing for the healer position.”
“But I’m not a monk. I’m a black mage,” Vur said.
The pair stared at Vur’s half-naked body that rippled with muscles as he moved.
“What?”
“Yeah. Black mage,” Vur nodded. “I cast spells to fight.”
Lillian’s brow creased as she eyed the bloody metal staff leaning on the wall. It was still dripping onto the caravan’s floor. “But—”
“Black. Mage.” Vur crossed his arms.
Paul covered Lillian’s mouth before she could speak again. “Sorry,” he said and smiled. “My cousin can be hard of hearing sometimes. I’m quite relieved we don’t have to compete against each other.” He reached under the seat and pulled out a bottle of wine. “How about we share a drink? In our household, anyone who shares a drink with us is a friend. What do you say?”
Vur grabbed the glass offered to him. “Sure,” he said. “Friends.”
***
“He’s really weird,” Lillian said to Paul as Vur traveled ahead to the competition booth. “Who wears an eye mask underneath a mask? I’ve never heard of wine referred to as fire water either.”
“Maybe he’s a half-breed. He did give us a demon’s last name after all,” Paul said. His eye twitched when Vur knocked over a crowd of people. “Purple eyes would really stand out, so he’s most likely hiding those. He’s probably been ostracized his whole life because of them. Try to be nice to him, alright?”
Lillian pouted as they followed the trail left behind by Vur. “If you guessed as much, why didn’t you kick him out? You keep lecturing me about offending the wrong people, but you want to associate with a demon.”
“Demons are slowly being accepted by the populace; that’s why the school in Flusia was founded,” Paul said. “With our grandpa’s territory being so close to the border, making friends with a demon isn’t a bad thing to do.”
“Whatever,” Lillian said. “If Grandpa asks, it’s your idea.” The two caught up to Vur and stood behind him while ignoring the glares and murmurs from the masses around them.
“Umm,” Paul said as he tapped Vur’s shoulder. “Did you skip the whole line?”
Vur turned around and tilted his head. “What line?” he asked the throng of people behind him. “No one said anything abou
t a line.”
“You should clean the blood off your equipment…,” Lillian said as she scratched her head. “Everyone’s probably too scared to say anything to you.”
“Blood? Oh. From those people I killed earlier,” Vur said as he nodded. “I’ll clean it before I sleep.”
“Next in line,” one of the booth members called out.
Vur looked around, but no one stepped forward. “That’s us.”
***
“Looks like the dragon boy’s all grown up,” a girl muttered to herself as drool leaked from her lips. She giggled and pushed her way to the front of the crowd as Vur’s group left.
“Hey! Watch it,” a guy said as he was nudged aside. “You—”
The girl turned around and smiled at him, showing her teeth. She wiped away a strand of saliva with the back of her hand. Her reptilian eyes changed colors every time she blinked. “Me what?” she asked and licked her lips. “I’ll be sure to eat you first in the tournament.” She giggled at the trembling boy and proceeded onwards to the booth. Her body shuddered and squirmed. Not now, little wormy. There’s bigger prey out there.
“What’s your name?” the man at the booth asked without looking up.
“Stella. Just Stella. What did that boy with the raccoon mask sign up as?”
“A black mage,” the man said as he wrote on a piece of paper. “Would you believe that?” He looked up and stiffened when he met Stella’s eyes.
“Mmm, I can see that,” Stella said as she smiled and snatched the paper out of the man’s hand. She laughed as she left.
***
A crowd of demons were sitting around a plaza underneath the royal castle. They were wearing clothes made of silk and sported jewelry that glittered in the sun.
“Don’t you think the prince is too young to be the demon lord?” a demon asked the man sitting beside her.
“I don’t think he can seize it,” the man said as he adjusted the white bracelet on his arm. “Dustin is strong after all. And he’s been doing a good job helping the country recover despite his lack of royal blood. It’s a shame a lot of the nobles here are stuck in such a narrow mindset.”
The chattering of the crowd died down as the main gates of the castle swung open. Dustin stepped out, wearing a purple robe and holding a golden scepter in his hand. “Thank you all for coming today,” he said. “As many of you know, the first prince, Gabriel, has issued a challenge for the throne. Normally, this would be done in private, but many of you wanted to witness the results for yourselves because you don’t trust me since I am a man of common birth.” He glared at the surrounding nobles before continuing. “I have done my best to lead the country, and you can see the results of my leadership for yourself. I hope that after today, no matter who wins, all of you will respect the new demon lord.”
The man with the white bracelet stood up and applauded. “Well said! Show them nobles who’s boss. Whup him good, Dusty,” he shouted. “And you, Gabriel.” He pointed at the prince who had appeared at the entranceway. “If you lose, I’m going to increase your training by tenfold!”
The woman next to the man tugged his sleeve. “Doofus! You said you wouldn’t embarrass me tonight,” she said with a red face.
Doofus cleared his throat. “My apologies for the outburst,” he said to the nobles around him. He sat down and crossed his arms.
Dustin smiled and scratched his head before turning around to face Gabriel. He frowned. “Chad lent you his armor?” he asked as his eyes narrowed.
Gabriel snorted. “I guess he just hates your guts, huh?”
Dustin creased his brow. “The fight ends when one of us surrenders or is rendered incapable of surrendering,” he said. “Ready?”
“Bring it,” Gabriel said and clashed his mace against his shield. He sneered. “I’d like to see what you can do against this armor.”
Dustin waved his scepter and thirty fireballs condensed in the air behind him before flying towards Gabriel. Gabriel laughed and lowered his helmet’s visor before standing akimbo. The fireballs collided against him, setting his armor ablaze.
“You think your measly little fireballs are going to work? All it does is create some smoke,” Gabriel said as he laughed. He inhaled a lung full of smoke and started coughing. “Wait. Smoke?” He screamed and stripped off the burning armor. “Time out! Time out!”
Dustin scratched his head. “There’s no timeouts, but I’d feel really bad if I continued to attack…”
Laughter rang out over the plaza. Chad was rolling around on the roof of the royal castle, clutching his stomach. “Stupid brat,” he said through tears. “You really thought I’d give you my armor for a position in the nobility? I’m richer than all the nobles out there combined.”
“You tricked me,” Gabriel shrieked as he stood naked and pointed at Chad. “I’ll kill you! I’ll rip your intestines out and strangle you with them. I’ll—”
Gabriel collapsed as a chunk of ice struck him in the back of the head.
“I guess that was pretty anti-climactic,” Dustin said. He turned towards the nobles. “It seems we wasted your time.”
The crowd broke out into discussion. A clear voice pierced through the discussion. “Let me have a shot.” A demon wearing a veil and blue robe stood up. She walked out of the crowd towards Dustin. Her veil slid down, revealing her deep-purple eyes.
“Tafel?” Dustin asked as his eyes widened. Murmurs flowed through the crowd of nobles.
“That’s the princess?”
“Ten horns…”
An orange sword materialized in Tafel’s hand as she smiled at Dustin. “Long time no see,” she said and removed her necklace. “I’m returning this to you.” She tossed it towards him.
Dustin caught it and rubbed the mangled surface. Ten years of fighting had taken its toll. “The good luck charm that I gave you when you were still a kid,” he said and smiled. “I guess that means you’re pretty confident now.”
Tafel nodded and lifted her sword with both hands. “Ready?”
Dustin lifted his scepter and his horns shone with a red hue. A blue layer of light surrounded his body. “Ready,” he said. He waved his scepter towards Tafel, but she disappeared. The next second, the layer of light shattered in front of his eyes. A sharp pain bit into the back of his head, and his vision went black.
Tafel stood behind Dustin with her sword propped up on her shoulder. There was a tiny patch of blood on its pommel. “I guess that wasn’t very fair,” Tafel murmured. “Well, that’s what he gets for underestimating me.”
A commotion broke out in the crowd as Tafel walked forward and picked up the golden scepter. She stabbed her sword into the ground. “Anyone who has any objections can step forward and fight me,” she announced. “I won’t be as merciful as I was with Dustin.” She passed her gaze over the crowd.
No one stood up.
Tafel nodded and entered the castle, leaving Gabriel’s and Dustin’s bodies in the courtyard. She sighed as traversed through the carpeted halls. It was the same place, yet it wasn’t. She used to look up to the sets of armor lining the walls, but now she saw them face to face.
Yelling and bickering ensued the moment the castle doors closed behind her, with many voices high-pitched in disbelief. The nobles had been expecting a long drawn-out struggle that would eventually lead to Gabriel’s victory as a rightful heir to the throne.
Tafel smiled. I showed them.
“Tafel.”
Tafel froze and turned her head towards a closed door. She pushed it open and frowned. “Mother,” she said, keeping her head level. “It’s been a while.”
Mina sighed. “I saw your match, if you could even call it that,” she said. “You’ve gotten strong—stronger than I ever was. I’m proud of you.”
Tafel creased her brow. She didn’t know what to do with her arms as she fidgeted and shifted her weight between her feet. “Thank you?” she asked as she scratched her head. “Hm. I was actually expecting you to yell at me for running
away all those years ago.”
One side of Mina’s mouth quirked upwards as she rose from her seat next to the window. “I didn’t pray for your safety every night just so I could yell at you when you returned,” she said as she put her arms around Tafel. “Will you forgive me?”
Tafel stiffened and attempted to pull away, but she stopped when she felt the trembling of her mother’s body. “I, I don’t know,” she said as she stood in her mother’s embrace, her arms at her sides. “I know that you were trying to protect me from Father, since he turned out to be crazy and all, but it still … hurt.” She spat out the last word.
“I know, Tafel. I’m sorry,” Mina said, her voice trembling. She released her daughter and held her by her shoulders at arm’s length.
Tafel stared into her mother’s eyes and bit her lower lip. “I guess we can try again,” she said after a pause, “but not as mother and daughter. This time, we’re equals.”
Mina sighed. “I think I could live with that,” she said and smiled. “You’re more than qualified to be my equal.”
Metal clanking noises echoed through the hall. “Excuse me, my lady,” Retter said as he stopped in front of the doorway. Ten years had passed, yet the sentry still looked exactly the same as he did on the day he found Zollstock dead at the throne. “The nobles outside wish to present gifts to the new demon lord.”
Tafel frowned. “That was quick,” she said as she broke away from her mother.
“I suspect these gifts were prepared for Gabriel once he succeeded in taking the throne,” Retter said with his head lowered.
Tafel nodded. “I’ll receive them in the throne room.” She asked her mother, “Do you want to come too?”
“I’d love to,” Mina said as she took Tafel’s hand. “Chances are my new son-in-law will be from those pool of nobles.”
Tafel snorted. “Fat chance,” she said. “There’s only one person who I’ve found interesting. Everyone else is too boring.”
“I guess the bar is set pretty high when the first boy you’ve ever been friends with had dragons for parents,” Mina said and shook her head.
32
