Dragon magus 3, p.1
Dragon Magus 3, page 1
Dragon Magus 3
DB King
Copyright © 2021 by DB King
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
v001
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Contents
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Contents
Series by DB King
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
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About the Author
Series by DB King
Dragon Magus
Dungeon of Evolution
Kensei
The Last Magus
Mage’s Path
Shinobi Rising
War Wizard
Chapter 1
Raphael spread his wings of golden light, arresting his ascent into the heavens, and looked down upon the Defiant Citadel.
Cast in the amber radiance of the setting sun, the ancient fortress floated a hundred feet above the ground, held aloft in the heavens by ancient magic. It spanned more than a thousand feet in both length and width, and once upon a time, it stood many times taller than a full-grown dragon, its highest towers straining toward the sun.
But now, all that remained of the Defiant Citadel were its upper levels, amounting to little more than seven floors of lumen-stone wings and towers reaching above a morass of crumbling pillars and trails of broken stone. The rest of the fortress had been lost, shaken and torn apart as it ascended from the depths of its tomb.
By any accounts, the Defiant Citadel was a ruined wreckage, a forlorn relic of a bygone age. Brought beneath the sun once more, it would shield no one with its broken fortifications and defy no siege with its shattered spine.
But ringing the Defiant Citadel were curtain walls of pure force, their translucent blue surfaces shimmering against the approaching dusk, impregnable and everlasting. They peaked at over half of the fortress’s height, replete with ramparts and battlements, and they curved inward at their base, arcing toward a central point at the heart of the Defiant Citadel to form mustering courtyards and floors of sapphire-hued light.
They were Shiomi’s gift from beyond the grave, born of a final act of will by the soul fragment tied to her split heart. Raphael had shattered the desecrated organ after tearing it from the chest of Vukaste, the ogre lord, allowing part of the dragon’s tormented spirit to pass into oblivion. In return, she had filled his soul with draconic power, which he’d used to manifest the walls of force around the Defiant Citadel.
He marveled as he studied the force barriers around the fortress, running his gaze over each crenellation and nook. The walls were shaped in perfect imitation of their now-destroyed stone counterparts, as were the flagstones of the courtyards and the sections of the floor visible through gaps in the stone body of the Defiant Citadel.
Every detail had been drawn from the memories Shiomi had shared with him. In them, he’d seen how eons ago, the Defiant Citadel housed the Thunder Guardians as they waged war against the ogre hordes. Now, the fortress would return to the fray against its ancient enemies, carrying within its heart a new generation of warriors.
“What an amazing sight,” Eliza said, flying to his side on Rayne’s back. She brushed a stray lock of golden hair from her blue eyes and patted the faerie dragon beneath her.
Rayne purred with pleasure, nuzzling its blue mane into her palm. Most of the time, the faerie dragon assumed the size of a very small mouse, tiny enough to fit easily into Raphael’s pocket. Now, it was larger than a warhorse, easily capable of bearing Eliza’s slim frame into the sky.
“Yes, it is,” Raphael agreed, exchanging a smile with her. “But we’ve only just begun. There’s still a lot we can do to bring the Defiant Citadel back to its former glory.”
“That’s true, but you could get a little rest first,” Eliza replied, pointing at Raphael’s bandaged and splinted left hand. “You haven’t stopped for breath since speaking with Janan.”
“I’m taking a short break now,” Raphael said, raising his injured hand and chuckling ruefully. He’d broken it during his battle against Vukaste, and his body had received all the Healing Magic it could, at least for the day. “I should be alright after a few casts of Lesser Heal tomorrow. And speaking of Janan, I’m glad I managed to get her to agree to my plan. She drives a tough bargain. We’ll have our work cut out for us trying to hold up our end.”
“It’s a good plan, Raphael. In fact, it’s the only feasible course of action we can take at this point, if we don’t want to abandon the Uwajima Region completely and leave Yamato at the mercy of the ogres,” Eliza pointed out. “Janan recognizes that, but as you know, she’s not going to just go along with it without something in return.”
After defeating Vukaste, Raphael had asked the High Captain of the First Seat to take charge of the Defiant Citadel and use the fortress to continue her campaign against the ogres plaguing the Uwajima Region. Janan had agreed, for a price.
“Gold. Or spell dust.” Raphael sighed. “The Hell Drakes are mercenaries, after all, and we can’t expect Janan’s warriors to fight for free. At least she managed to get a good amount from the battle outside Hanko City. We need to find more for her within two weeks, though.”
Eliza turned to the plains west of the Defiant Citadel. They were still littered with the corpses of thousands of harpies, goblins, giant spiders, and humans. From their perch in the sky, Raphael could see groups of Hell Drakes mages and teams of auxiliaries and armsmen moving among the heaped bodies. The latter retrieved the remains of their fallen comrades-in-arms and piled them onto horse-drawn carts. The former chanted and gestured over the fallen monsters, their magic pulling small violet spheres from the corpses.
The mages were harvesting spell cores, which they would then grind down into spell dust. Spell dust was the fuel of Vector Magic, humanity’s sole weapon against monsters. And the Hell Drakes would reap a bountiful harvest indeed, since the fruits of the horrific carnage that had unfolded during Janan’s attack on Hanko City were plenty. The spell dust could then be stockpiled for the Hell Drakes’ use, sold for gold, or bartered for other supplies.
“So many dead,” Eliza whispered. “I remember being utterly horrified when the battle begun outside the junkyard, but now, looking at this, all I feel is numbness. Is this what war does to people? Strip away our kindness, our ability to feel another’s pain?”
“You will never lose your kindness, Eliza.” Raphael took her hand in his uninjured one. “I know this because I know the kind of person you are: wise, strong, brave, and most of all, compassionate. Otherwise, the light of the Dragon Meridian would never have found you worthy.”
Raphael had exposed Eliza’s soul to the light of the Dragon Meridian, setting her onto a long and winding path toward becoming a Dragon Knight. The further she walked down that path, the more she would leave her humanity behind, but in return, she would attain her own draconic power and be able to remain by Raphael’s side, untouched by the passing of decades, then centuries.
Eliza smiled and squeezed his hand gently.
“Thanks, Raphael,” she said. “Should we go back to the others?”
“In a moment,” he replied. “Right now, sitting with you in the sky, I feel like all is right in the world. Let’s enjoy it for a bit more.”
“Yes, let’s do that,” Eliza said, a faint blush coming over her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly as she met his gaze, and Raphael felt himself becoming lost in the sapphire depths of her eyes.
Before he could think, he found himself leaning closer to her. The color deepened in Eliza’s cheeks, but she leaned in too, bringing her face nearer to his. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin upward...
<
Tendrils of green magical energy writhed at the center of the Heart Chamber. But that wasn’t the most alarming sight. As Raphael watched, the entire Defiant Citadel rocketed fifty feet into the sky before coming to a jarring halt that evoked a fresh wave of screams.
Then the fortress plummeted toward the ground. Raphael winced in horror, but the Defiant Citadel stopped just before it crashed, hovering several inches above the heads of the Hell Drakes beneath it.
Someone was using Earth Magic on the black stone disc that controlled the fortress’s flight, and Raphael could think of only one elf irresponsible and reckless enough to cause what just happened.
“Sylvia,” Eliza said, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips in an expression that Raphael had come to recognize as one made up of equal parts annoyance and exasperation.
“None other,” Raphael agreed. He sighed. “We’d better go stop her before somebody gets hurt.”
Eliza nodded. Together, they descended upon the Heart Chamber.
Chapter 2
Sylvia stood over a huge disc of black stone set within the floor of the Heart Chamber. She was surrounded by a host of shouting and gesticulating mages clad in the colors of Janan’s Kingmakers, the informal name of the Hell Drakes under Janan’s command. One of the mages waved at a quartet of burly armsmen, who sprinted toward Sylvia and pounced upon her.
Every Hell Drake armsman was a skilled warrior capable of casting Fortify and Hasten, the two spells of Martial Magic that heightened their strength, toughness, and swiftness beyond human limitations. But Sylvia was a Sister of Chaos. A long time ago, she’d undergone numerous sinister magical experiments that gave her strange abilities and infused her flesh with astounding power.
As Raphael expected, the armsmen failed miserably in their attempt to wrestle the slender elf away, even as badly wounded as she was.
The first one fell, groaning and clutching his groin. Then another staggered away, his eyes crossing toward the bruise forming rapidly between them. The third squealed and hopped free, his hands flying over the sudden hole that had appeared in the rear of his trousers. The last armsman let go of Sylvia and turned to flee, only to be picked up and body-slammed into unconsciousness upon the floor.
“Ah, there you are,” Sylvia said as Raphael dismissed his golden wings and dropped down beside her. Her delicate features were pale and strained, and she was still clad in her battle attire: silver armor plates affixed to a dark, skintight undersuit, the former buckled and battered and the latter so rent and torn it barely preserved her modesty. “I was just teaching some of Janan’s boys to keep their hands to themselves.”
“Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Raphael asked, helping the unconscious armsman into a sitting position and casting Lesser Heal on his bruised jaw. “Your injuries aren’t fully healed yet, right?”
“Eh. Since when would a few cracked ribs, a bleeding spleen, and a single collapsed lung even begin to slow me down?” Sylvia cackled, causing her shoulder-length dark hair to dance wildly about her face. “But enough about you. Let’s talk more about me. I figured out how to fly this heap of rock.”
“All you need is Stone Shift!” an angry mage protested, shaking her fist at the elf. “It’s the most basic Earth Magic spell! Any mage can cast it!”
“Ah, but can any mage cast it like me?” Sylvia replied, thumbing her collar smugly.
Rayne swooped over the crowd. Eliza hopped off the faerie dragon’s back and landed in front of Sylvia.
“No, because no one else is an irresponsible idiot who almost killed everybody standing beneath the Defiant Citadel,” Eliza snapped, glowering at the elf.
Sylvia coughed into her fist and averted her gaze from Eliza’s.
“Well, you can’t avoid some technical difficulties here and there, right?” she said, failing to keep an uneasy tremor from her voice. “Especially when we’re forging our way into paths unknown.”
“No, no,” the same mage who’d shaken her fist at Sylvia spoke up once more. “We already knew the exact modulations required in the Stone Shift spell to maneuver the Defiant Citadel accordingly. You just thought it’d be funny to shoot it high into the air, drop it, and try to catch it before it landed.”
“But... it was funny, wasn’t it?” Sylvia asked weakly.
All present, Raphael and the now-recovered armsmen included, shook their heads.
“That’s it! You’re coming with me!” Eliza reached out, pinched one of Sylvia’s pointed ears, and began pulling the elf out from the midst of the gathered Hell Drakes, ignoring her squealed protests every step of the way. She whistled skyward to Rayne as she neared the edge of the Heart Chamber, Sylvia in tow.
“We’re keeping the strange elf out of trouble again?” the faerie dragon asked, as it swooped down to land in front of the two women.
“Yes, Rayne.” Eliza shoved Sylvia over the faerie dragon’s back, before clambering on herself.
Sylvia opened her mouth to protest, only to have her words die unspoken before the dangerous glare on Eliza’s face.
“You’re going to get some rest,” Eliza declared. “Any objections?”
The elf shook her head numbly. Eliza nodded and turned to Raphael.
“I’ll see you below, Raphael,” she said, waving to him.
“Absolutely. See you in a bit,” Raphael replied, grinning at the sight of the usually indomitable elf cowering before Eliza.
Rayne wagged its tail, then hopped off the edge of the Heart Chamber, its butterfly-like wings humming as it carried its passengers earthward.
Raphael turned to the gathered mages and armsmen and bowed apologetically.
“I’m sorry, everyone. Sylvia can be a bit difficult sometimes,” he said.
“Difficult? More like completely insane!” the mage who’d spoken up twice said. She strode up to Raphael and thrust her hand out. “Captain Sara Marchesi, fourth division commander.”
Raphael clasped the captain’s hand, wrist-to-wrist, and shook it. Sara, like the other mages serving under Janan, wore a dark uniform beneath plain but well-made runic leather armor. Only a gray epaulet on her left shoulder denoted her rank. She was a short and compact woman who wore her dark hair cropped close to her skull. A pale scar ran down the side of her tanned cheek, speaking of an old injury grievous enough to leave such a mark despite the widespread availability of Healing Magic.
“Good evening, Captain, uh, ma’am,” Raphael replied, unsure if he should salute or not. Janan and Sylvia were High Captains of the Hell Drakes, answering only to the Guild Master himself. If Sara was a captain, then she definitely outranked Raphael, who was a mere armsman.
Sara solved his dilemma by withdrawing her hand and giving him a dismissive wave.
“Just ‘Sara’ is fine. I know the other Hell Drakes do things differently, so as far as I’m concerned, you don’t have to worry about military protocol with me,” she said. “Besides, we all saw how you and your war party handled that hydra. That’s not something any armsman can do.”
“Alright, Sara. Thank you for trying to figure the Defiant Citadel out,” Raphael replied, nodding. Sara was right. The Hell Drakes under Janan’s command functioned like a military unit, while the rest of the Guild worked in small teams of adventurers, like Raphael’s war party. “If we’re going to use this against the ogres, we need it to fly just like it used to, in Shiomi’s time.”
“Of course, for the Defiant One stands with us once more. The least we can do is fly with her.” Sara’s eyes filled with awe, and Raphael could understand her wonder. A long time ago, Shiomi had fought alongside humanity against the ogre hordes, her colossal draconic form winging through the skies alongside the Defiant Citadel.
But then the era of draconic rage had unfolded. Driven to madness, Shiomi spent her final moments laying waste to the Defiant Citadel and the Thunder Guardians who’d been her friends and allies. And then she had perished. Laden with sorrow, shame, and regret, her soul had remained bound to her crumbling remains, and for centuries, Shiomi lamented and wept within her restless grave.
