Chương 149: Reborn as the Dragon — Chapter 149 - Parting Ways — Face to Face

Dara Bengba had assumed that as fellow Heroes, sharing the same goal, they would naturally stick together. He hadn't expected them to part ways before they'd even left the Kingdom of Anlius.

"Hey! You — the one with the sword?" He was walking at the front, map in hand, when Freya's voice cut through from behind.

"Is something the matter?" He turned, expression puzzled.

"I am the eldest princess of the Ogilair Kingdom." Freya tilted her chin up.

"I've decided you're a decent talent. Consider this your opportunity: acknowledge me as your master and become my servant." The pink-haired Hero of Magic wore the expression of someone bestowing a great mercy. As if the privilege of serving her were something to be grateful for. Ogilair Kingdom. Dara Bengba had heard of it.

A small country slightly better off than Anlius, situated in the southern seas of the Aililan Empire, a proper island nation, rich in pearls and flowers, its coastline beautiful enough that bards had taken to calling it the "Flower of the Sea" or the "Pearl Kingdom." So this mage was actually Ogilair's eldest princess. She'd come a long way. The arrogance in her tone grated on him, but they were both Heroes on the same hunt. He didn't want to make more of it than it was.

"Sorry, Lady Freya." His voice was flat.

"I have no interest in becoming your servant. My goal is singular: kill the evil dragon."

"Tch." Freya snorted, her eyes going cold and sharp. She had lived in luxury her entire life, raised on adoration, surrounded by people who competed to please her. At eight years old, she had awakened her talent and claimed the legacy of the Star Archmage from the kingdom's treasury. The most powerful magical class of the ancient age. Compared to ordinary mages, Star Archmages could pre-store spell slots, making them devastatingly efficient in combat. Living artillery, essentially.

And now she, Freya, eldest princess of Ogilair, genius magical prodigy, had personally extended an invitation to some lowly commoner, and he'd refused her? The nerve. The problem was that she'd watched him fight. That explosive speed. That unnatural burst of power. It had made her genuinely uneasy. If it came to a confrontation right now, even with the Healer Hero's support, she wasn't confident she'd win.

"If there's nothing else," Dara Bengba said, already turning back around, "I'll be heading out. Slaying a dragon takes preparation. I can't afford to waste time." This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. He didn't wait for her response. Those who walk different paths don't make plans together. His time was worth more than this.

"We'll meet again." Freya's voice came from behind him, cold and deliberate.

"You can't kill a dragon alone. Without a mage, you won't even crack its scales. When that day comes, you'll be on your knees, weeping, begging me to take you in as my vassal." A pause.

"Just you wait." Dara Bengba's stride faltered for half a step. The hand on his sword grip went tight. Then he walked on without looking back.

"Damn it! Lowly swine!" Freya was shaking with fury. She spun and slapped the Healer Hero, Kaiyal, hard across the face.

"Trash who can't do anything but heal! The thought that a waste like you is my royal guard — that you're standing here as a fellow Hero — it makes me sick!" She shoved him to the ground.

"If you weren't so pathetically useless, would I even need to recruit that swordsman?" She didn't stop at the slap. She kicked him while he was down, fists and boots finding the worst spots without any effort to hold back. Every blow landed on vital points. And Kaiyal, writhing on the ground in agony, screaming with pain, also let out happy, eager little barks. Like a dog.

"Pathetic." Freya's boot came to rest on his face. She pressed down, grinding slowly, her expression manic and vicious. The rage of being refused gradually bled out of her as she worked through it. Kaiyal was Ogilair-born, same as her. Just a commoner. But this particular commoner had a rare gift: healing. Not the ordinary kind. His ability was more like a law of restoration, returning things to their original state. Broken bodies, depleted minds, drained mana pools, all of it.

If he healed you, you came back whole. The price was that he felt everything you'd suffered to get there. Every wound, every injury, every moment of agony, it ran through him the instant the Healing Art activated. And afterward, depending on how much pain he'd absorbed, he would collapse into a prolonged mental breakdown before finally losing consciousness. Use it once, and he was gone for a long time. The first person he'd ever used the Healing Art on was Ogilair's Sword Master, back in the royal capital.

The Sword Master's accumulated injuries had broken him completely. He'd woken from the coma and immediately refused to ever use it again. To keep him cooperative, Freya had found another way: special drugs that hijacked his will and turned him into her property outright. The drugs had a bonus effect. He still collapsed after using the Healing Art, still suffered the full mental breakdown, but now he could push past his limits and use it on overload. Given enough time, he was going to go mad.

Freya didn't particularly care. The ends justified the means. That had always been her creed. Both of them held powerful spellcasting classes, but she had never once respected Kaiyal, and saw no reason to start. Trash should know what it is.

"Stupid dog." She drove her boot into his stomach one last time.

"Use your Healing Art, get up, and go find me somewhere to stay." Kaiyal scrambled to obey with a chorus of eager barks, healing himself off the ground before trotting away to carry out her order.

"Really is a stupid dog." A cold, sickly smile settled onto Freya's face. She wasn't in any rush to head for the Silvermoon Forest. The King of Anlius's tournament had shaken loose considerable talent. She would take her time recruiting the best of them. Two spellcasters against an evil dragon was a suicide mission. She needed meat shields. She needed cannon fodder. She needed a proper army.

"Just wait," she murmured.

"Once I have that dragon's heart, my path to Star Archmage advancement is secured." She crossed her legs, leaning back, the light green of her eyes lit with something hot and hungry.

"Even in this age of declining magic, I will reach the legendary peak." Silvermoon Forest. The dragon lair. Night had fallen, the hour when monsters grew restless and the dark stirred. Su Nian stood on the lair's highest point, facing his assembled monsters with an expression of absolute gravity, and proceeded to deliver the most unusual speech of his reign. The address covered two key topics. First: On the Critical Importance of Family Planning Among Monster Populations.

Second: Does True Love Exist Between Members of the Same Sex? ➤ Next: The Idea of Matchmaking