Chapter Thirty-Eight: "All or Nothing with You"

Dodoro felt a deep sympathy for the goblin's anger—after all, even for humans, losing one's wife was a humiliation no man could bear. Yet the goblin lord, perhaps blinded by rage, suspected his queen had been abducted by the human caravan, claiming she was the most beautiful among all goblins.

All the humans were indignant—this was simply unreasonable! The most beautiful goblin? Come now! Even the finest specimen among goblins, to human eyes, was nothing but a filthy, scrawny creature lacking all hygiene. Who besides goblins themselves would take interest in such a "beauty"?

Abduct a goblin? How much could that fetch on the slave market?

But the infuriated goblin lord saw things differently. Sensing the green peril upon his brow, he decided in his fury to capture every human in the caravan and turn them into jerky!

Dodoro knew well how goblins treated their human captives. Though he was thin and lacked much fat, in the hands of those adept at extracting food from the leanest sources, even if he were half his current size, the seasoned goblins could still boil some oil from his bones!

Fortunately, the caravan was laden with goods and prisoners, and Dodoro was clever enough to seize an opportunity to slip away unnoticed.

Had he fled alone across the wilds, he would likely have ended as a meal for wolves or been caught by wandering goblins. But fortune favored him—he encountered humans!

At night, he spotted a campfire in the wilderness—surely the mark of humans. Though meeting human adventurers could be equally disastrous, it was preferable to being devoured by wolves or goblins.

Driven by hunger and thirst, Dodoro staggered toward the fire, his mind teetering on the edge of collapse. He decided to risk everything!

When pushed to desperation, men discover untold reserves of courage.

That was Dodoro then, rage swelling in his chest, boldness rising to his veins. He charged into the human camp and yelled, "Nobody move! This is a robbery! Hand over your food and water! I am a wizard!"

His furious shout echoed across the wilds. The camp's occupants seemed stunned by Dodoro's audacity.

But after a few seconds, the group burst out laughing.

"A wizard? We're all wizards!"

Dodoro looked closely, and was dumbfounded...

Indeed, all six humans before him were fellow mages!

What truly left Dodoro speechless was that even the lowest badge among them was silver, and one wore a golden emblem!

He, a mere novice wizard, had just tried to rob six intermediate and senior mages...

Dodoro's courage evaporated when he saw one of them raise his wand toward him. He collapsed to his knees, tears and snot streaming, begging for mercy as he hastily recounted his tragic fate.

At last...

Having heard Dodoro's tale of suffering, the mage lowered his wand. The group exchanged glances and sighed.

"As a wizard, to be reduced to your state—what a rarity."

They were all mages, after all. Even the most accomplished among them had once been novices, and seeing a newcomer so wretched—having sold himself into slavery—moved the group with crocodile tears and a sense of kinship for the fallen.

"Enough. Since you're a wizard, though your abilities are meager, you might as well follow us. We're here for business, none of us brought apprentices, and we could use someone for odd tasks."

Dodoro was overwhelmed with gratitude, believing his hardship had at last ended, and that divine grace had finally touched him.

He did not suspect, however, that these mages' intentions were not wholly benevolent...

Normally, hunting a dragon would be a glorious undertaking, worthy of public acclaim and reputation. But these six mages had kept their mission secret, telling no one—not even their closest apprentices.

They knew their own abilities well. Though outstanding among wizards, they were far from the legendary dragon-slayers. Only because they'd heard the dragon was weakened did they dare to try their luck. The magical materials from a slain dragon were enough for any wizard to risk life and limb!

But secrecy was paramount. If word got out that they'd acquired dragon materials, others—mighty and unreasonable wizards—might come to demand a share. They could not withstand such threats.

So everything was done in stealth.

Another reason: the title "dragon-slayer" was only glorious if one had the strength to back it. If they truly possessed the power of an archmage, they would have made their quest public. But their abilities were middling. If rumors spread, trouble would come in droves.

Fame brings danger.

In these times, the waves of newcomers crash upon the old, and every year countless ambitious novices emerge, their eyes wide for opportunities to ascend.

If you are a "dragon-slayer"? Excellent! The perfect stepping stone!

And if you are merely a mediocre wizard with a grand title? Even better! Who wouldn't want to trample you?

Should news leak, endless challengers would arrive—defeating you would prove their strength exceeds even a "dragon-slayer."

Hence, this operation was strictly confidential. The six mages traveled alone, leaving even their closest disciples behind.

This, however, left them at a disadvantage. At home, they enjoyed every comfort—even in the lavatory, a lovely apprentice would hold incense for them. Now, in the wilds, these pampered masters suffered. In town, they could still enjoy inns and taverns, but out on the Wildfire Plains, they had gone days without a decent meal. The cold, hard biscuits were nearly inedible, and even the water was half spoiled. Though capable of hunting, none could cook.

That night, one fire mage finally took matters into his own hands. With a burst of "Explosive Flame," he roasted an antelope to a crisp—but forgot the spell's explosive property, and with a boom, the meat was blasted into pieces, even the iron pot destroyed.

Just then, Dodoro wandered in, looking foolish and fellow wizard enough. He was taken in as a servant, tending to their daily needs.

As for what would happen after their quest... For the sake of secrecy... Well.

Wizards, after all, are not above murder.

...

Dodoro was no stranger to hardship, unlike these pampered masters. Serving them, he managed to please them with succulent roasted meat, and at last the noble mages were spared the misery of gnawing biscuits.

But Dodoro suffered!

He alone had to serve six masters, all temperamental after their ordeal in the wild. He prepared six separate dinners, roasted six varieties of game, washed their clothes, heated their bathwater—once they had a servant, their demands grew ever more refined!

They treated this wilderness expedition as a holiday.

Dodoro's back ached daily, and after several days, he grew even thinner.

Worst of all, upon reaching the mountains, Dodoro learned their quest was to seek a dragon—he wept inwardly, feeling his prospects utterly bleak.

Dodoro was no fool. He could see the power balance clearly: these six masters could kill him with a wave of their fingers, but the dragon could just as easily destroy them with a swipe of its claws!

...

...

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be in this plight!"

Scenes from Dodoro's past flashed through his mind like lightning. He howled in anguish, gripping Shaya's neck: "If we're doomed anyway, I'll take you with me!"

Shaya was bewildered—was a robe really worth dying for?

Just then, the dragon atop the mountain roared, and a dazzling blue-gray aura erupted from its massive body!

With a thunderous boom, a clear wave rippled outward. The four mages on the summit were swept by the wave, and their transparent defensive shield shattered instantly!

Amid the dragon's piercing cry, the foremost mage screamed as the wave struck him. His wand snapped, his clothing shredded, and then, as the wave vibrated through him, his flesh was stripped from his bones in an instant—blink and a living man was reduced to a skeleton!

The remaining three mages shrieked, abandoning their hunt and fleeing down the mountain with the dragon close behind.

Shaya felt a chill run through him. Seeing the survivors descending, he jumped up and grabbed the unlucky Dodoro: "Run for your life!"

He had barely finished shouting when he realized Ada had already vanished—damn, that fellow ran even faster than him!

Shaya took off at a sprint, and Dodoro, unwilling to let go of the cause of his misfortune, clung to him like a wombat.

Watching Dodoro bounce painfully on Shaya's back, the pitiable one, though himself being dragged along, couldn't help but whisper, "Hey, are you alright?"

"I..." Dodoro finally saw the pitiful one's face and his eyes widened: "You, you are—!"

But he hadn't finished speaking when—

Behind them, three mages and the pursuing dragon arrived in a flash!

With a thunderous roar, the dragon unleashed another burst of blue breath!