Oswald ran through the forest, swinging his sword aimlessly—cutting branches and slicing bushes. Thunderous flaps chased him, shortly followed by a gust of wind passing over him.
"Where is it? Where's the damn clearing?"
While running, the shade of trees stopped, replaced by the open sky.
"YES!" His outburst echoed. "A CLEARING!"
He was in a rough but circular clearing, patches of grass on the dry, cracked ground.
He slowed to a stop, facing the dragon behind him. It hovered in the sky, its huge wings bent the grass double, and jerking his hair.
Wings…?
He lowered his head, scratching his chin. Then, his eyes widened. "WINGS!"
His head shot to the dragon. "IT'S CHARGING UP!!!"
While lost in thought, its maw opened—sharp, thin, and jagged teeth lit by the magenta colored glow inside the throat, luminosity increasing by the second.
I need something to knock it off the sky… A STONE!
He began crawling on the ground, splitting patches of grass.
Umm… Uhh… "YES!"
He grabbed a palm-sized stone and spun on his feet.
Time to use all my strength.
Like a pitcher in baseball, he wound his throw. His arm bulged against the flexible titanium-chainmail and diamond-plated armor for mobility.
"TAKE! THIS!"
WHOOSH!
He hurled the stone. It spun in the air with a deafening crack before piercing the dragon's wing. Magenta blood caked the stone, immediately cleaning itself from its speed and rotation.
ROOOOAR!
The dragon cried, flailing in the air before losing altitude. Sorry, Mr. Dragon.
BOOM!
Trees crushed under its weight, shaking the earth and his balance.
"Whoa!" His arms spread to balance himself.
"WA— Oof." He failed, falling on his butt.
The dragon straightened itself, each movement earth-shaking. It glared at his tiny form, sitting in the center of the clearing.
ROOOOOOOOOAR!
Saliva propelled off its opened maw.
Oh boy, I've done it now— Wait! What's…
He squinted, looking above the dragon's forehead—between the eyes. A magenta-colored worm writhed, sticking out from the seams of its black and rusted armor.
Worm…
The world around him paused as cold realization hit him.
It isn't a beast nor a destroyer, it is—a victim.
"IT'S CONTROLLED BY A PARASITE!!! That means all the wyverns and—"
While he was in his head, the dragon had already released a giant magenta fireball—now, only a few steps away.
"SHIT!" He looked away, his forearms an 'X' before a fireball twice its size.
Forgetting his super-speed in the heat of the moment, he felt heat increasing and increasing, like a hand nearing a candle.
WHOOSH!
Then, he felt himself jolted sideways, the heat from the front replaced by wind hitting the side of his head.
He opened his eyes to a violet-colored ponytail jerking near his face.
"Oh, hello!" he said to the maid, snatching him in the nick of time.
BOOM!
The fireball exploded as she skidded to a stop under the shade of the tree in the treeline. While facing the clearing, a familiar voice in British accent spoke from behind.
"A timely intervention," Garrick said, peering behind the tree.
Thorne looked at Oswald. "What was your reason for pausing, candle?"
Before answering, he thanked the violet-haired maid, his gaze shifting to him.
"I know, I know but I…" He joined peering beside Garrick, pointing at the dragon. "Look! Do you see a worm in magenta, sticking out of the forehead?"
Everybody squinted their eyes where pointed.
"I do not see such worm. Do you?" He asked Thorne.
"No."
"Haaah. Of course not. Wouldn't that be easy." His next words were muttered under his breath. "I'm not making a good case of myself."
He turned around and looked at the three. "You have to believe me, I do see it. It's…" He returned to peering around the tree. "…on the forehead, coming out the seams of the armor and… Haaah." He sighed, shaking his head. "I know you don't see it and I-I'm speaking as if death barely scraped by me. The only thing in my mind is..." He raised his fist at face level. "…getting the parasite out of the forehead." His fist hit the tree with the light thud.
After a pause, he felt a hand on his right shoulder. He turned to see it was Garrick's.
"If you are saying it with such conviction then," he dipped his head, "we do believe you…"
Oswald's gaze shifted between the instructors and the maid—Garrick wore a smile, the maid's was subtle, and Thorne pulled at his beard.
"See, we do believe you… to the extent that we see this aforementioned parasite."
Oswald let out a silent whistle. "You got it, sir. Now that an agreement is struck… how do we immobilize the dragon, just enough to dislodge the parasite?"
"Heh. That is easy for this move hasn't failed us."
"Hahaha. Ah, friend, you're already restoring a sense of youth in me."
"What are they talking about?" Oswald whispered at the maid, pointing at Garrick.
"No idea."
SHING!
Garrick released his sword, a slender, curved cavalry saber, and Thorne, his dual battleaxes.
"Follow us after a slight delay."
"Right." They both nodded.
Garrick and the others turned to face the clearing, the dragon looking through the trees, away from the group.
"Begin!"
Off the two went, followed by Oswald and the maid.
Thorne threw both his battleaxes at the distracted dragon, both spun horizontally like a frisbee.
PING! PING!
The battleaxes collided with the armor above the eye, sparks flew from collision and the axes ricocheted vertically upwards. The axes' hit made the dragon face the group.
WHOOSH!
HOLY SPEED!
In a blink, Thorne moved from the ground to snatch the axes at their apex. On the ground, Garrick focused on his sword, vines curling around the blade, then shot toward Thorne in the air. It wrapped around his ankles and he yanked his sword, in turn jerked Thorne downward.
CLANK!
Using the speed, Thorne slammed both the battleaxes on the forehead.
BOOM!
The dragon's head thrust on the ground with a crash. The rustic armor shattered, the pieces raining down the sides of its head, the parasite fully exposed.
"That's our—"
WHOOSH!
He and the others shielded his eyes from the shockwave of dust.
"That's our cue!"
The maid extended her hand and Oswald accepted.
WHOOSH!
Both leapt together, landing on its head, behind the parasite.
"Whoa!" He stumbled from the landing while the maid landed smoothly.
He straightened himself with her assistance. "Thanks."
Both turned around, facing the magenta and writhing parasite, just above and between the dragon's eyes.
"The parasite is…" He walked toward it, releasing his obsidian sword. "Right here!"
WHOOSH! SQUELCH!
A clean, diagonal slice. He sheathed his sword, bending down to grab the parasite. Behind him, her eyes widened for a millisecond as he grabbed the parasite.
Thank god, my hands are inside the armor.
He pulled at the parasite, magenta slime seeping through his fingers.
"Get OUT!"
It didn't come out.
"You! OUT WITH IT!"
He pulled again with gritted teeth, the parasite denied its dislodging. His body hunched-over, heaving.
"No!" His hand stopped the advancing maid, magenta-colored slime falling off his palm. "Don't dirty your hands, it's very…" He stepped off the top, both his feet between the eyes. "Un-gentlemanly—"
POP!
With the parasite in hand, he tumbled backwards on its snout—rolling two times before stopping.
"WOHOO! IT'S OUT!" He threw the parasite aside and raised his fists in the air.
"Haaah." Garrick sighed, shaking his head. "Childish… yet likeable."
Thorne scoffed, dipping his head while pulling his beard.
Oswald craned his neck upward, looking at the dragon's eyes. "Damn, they're big. It's like the size of… the wall when it's… OPENED!"
The dragon's single eye opened, its slit iris falling on him.
"AHHH! IT'S AWAKE!"
He hopped off the snout, tumbling as he made contact to the ground, then hid behind Garrick—peering from behind him. The instructors and the maid readied their weapons.
BOOM! BOOM!
It slowly stood up, towering over the four. Its slit-iris shifted between the four until it stopped on Oswald. Its head slightly lowered—a bow.
"I thank you for extricating me—master."
A booming voice sounded within Oswald's head.
"Huh? Master…?" His eyes widened. "Wait, it can talk!"
The three looked at him, puzzlement painting their faces.
They can't hear it?
"You said 'master'. Who is it?" He didn't believe it, he couldn't believe. It is crazy to think that a humongous dragon will be under his control… and yet.
"You—the one wielding the obsidian sword."
The one wielding the— "ME!" He pointed at himself. "What did I do?"
Garrick frowned. "What is it saying?"
Before he could answer.
"It is simple." The dragon's booming voice continued in his head. "You identified the cause of my mindless rampage—and resolved it."
WHAT?!
His head slowly lowered, staring at his feet. "It said that I… resolved the issue of his rampage, making me its… master." The word—the unreal word 'master'—its absurdity still didn't set in.
SHIT! I FORGOT!
"Hey, Mr. Dragon, since I'm your master and all. Take us to the kingdom—we need to deal with the ongoing invasion."
The dragon lowered itself to the ground, laying its wings flat. "Then I shall take you there, but before we proceed…" Its gaze shifted to the maid. "…the one possessing violet hair, I feel her power to heal deep within. She shall treat my wounds, before we depart."
SHE CAN HEAL! SHE'S BEEN HEALING ME!
He relayed the message to the others. The maid blinked a few times before accepting. Wounds healed and with a single flap of the wing—the group took flight, heading toward the kingdom.
* * *
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