Lord Raphael was pissed, for several reasons, most notable the mistakes made on this mission. The first, was he had been lax at handling the Tier Three in front of him. She had tossed several talismans into the portal, but he hadn’t bothered to stop them. The language on them had appeared to be gobbldegook to Polyglot so he thought they were merely a distraction.

That was the first mistake.

The second, he allowed himself to be distracted searching the space nearby for the spatial inventory item the Tier Three had to have. Draconic greed was insatiable and distracting, as Lord Raphael well knew, even his Sand Drake bloodline felt the effects.

That was the second mistake.

The third was staring him down through the shifting darkness of the portal. A planar invader was rare, although all dragons knew they existed. To think that a mere Tier Three knew how to fish something such as this world devouring threat up like baiting a shark from the ocean.

That was the third mistake.

“Run.” Lord Raphael said, his voice refusing to show fear. He was a pureblood Drake, panic was for inferior non-Draconic species. Space was his Domain, and the power of the Sixth Tier flowed through his veins. The great Broodmother’s words echoed in his memory and he spoke them, his voice echoing with power. “Scales hold the line, we do not break, we do not bend.” Lord Raphael said, stepping forward and raising his right hand. Pulling on his Bloodline space bent and twisted around the portal entrance, as his will responded to the threat approaching. A paper thin barrier encircled the portal as runes began to flash and flow through the space under his control. The System detected the intrusion moments later flashing a message.

Breach detected!

System has removed all Bloodline Restrictions.

Complete the Dragon’s Pact for Rewards!

Lord Raphael grimaced, removing all restrictions on his Bloodline meant the threat was at least Tier 6. Unless reinforcements arrived within minutes, everyone was doomed. He was a transportation specialist, not a combat type. Contracts like the one to hunt down a rogue combatant from the Arena and hold her in place were what he specialized in, not pedantic battle drudgery!

ZONE DEFENSE QUEST OPENED!

DEFEND THE BREACH!

Reinforcements: 00:01 minutes away!

Once the System quest appeared, Lord Raphael was forced to drop his spatial barrier blocking the Tier Three’s escape. The mana upkeep on that skill could be the difference between life and death, and like hell he was letting some Tier Three’s contract for capture get him killed. Just because the number of zeros had mesmerized him into taking the job was no excuse for suicide.

Extending his senses Lord Raphael shifted into his true Dragon form, something he had never done with his Bloodline being restricted. A small flash of satisfaction went through his might at the awestruck look of all four lesser creatures. No matter how many centuries passed by, that look would never failed to inspire him. As well such lesser beings should gape at his magnificent bronze scales, buffed to mirror shine by magic and hand. Unlike his greedier kin such as Reds, Blacks, or Dragon God forbid Gold Dragons, he was content to take a few Contracts from the Arena to enrich his Hoard. Plunder and pillage, tribute and trading, those were for inferior species, or Golds to use for building Hoards.

Although, I might want to do more research next time on the target and situation! Lord Raphael thought in irritation. If I get out of this alive, I’m going to have firm words with the Arena Manager and whatever moron on his staff pulled this idiocy without warning me!

The gravity mage and his two allies were minor concerns, if they chose to accept the quest and commit suicide he wouldn’t interfere. The fact that they hadn’t released the Tier Three and were still trying to complete the Arena’s contract showed a fascinating lack of survival instincts. Lord Raphael’s eyes narrowed as he pulsed a draconic detection at the Tier Three. His eyes narrowed into rage filled slits as the information displayed before him.

Race: Witch

Class: Witch of the Library

Profession: Talismanic Librarian

Level: 500

Have the people running the Arena lost their gold grubbing minds? Lord Raphael thought looking at the Race displayed. An unaligned Witch? What in the Dragon God’s Drug Hoard are they smoking to give them the balls to pull such a stunt? The moment those old biddies from the Colored Coven Alliance hear about this the whole zone will become nothing but a death trap.

Witches, or more specifically unaligned Witches were the holy grail of a Coven. Black, Red, Blue, Green, White, Purple, Grey, it didn’t matter, the rarity of their Race created a tightly knit alliance. It didn’t hurt that most Witches shared complimentary specialties. As a draconic species he was partial to more information than the normal rumor mill.

Blacks were precision Curse-makers, and cold-eyed killers. Reds were perfect bakers, no matter the meal’s meat. Blues were disgusting doppelgangers, copying their food supply. Greens grew the specialty spices, along with select drugs for distribution. Whites handled the healing of drug users, poisoned princes, and other riff-raff. Purples had no compunction about seducing a few kings to change laws to a Coven’s benefit. Greys were the murky cleaners that solved messes made by all the other colors.

All in all, they were pretty much a group of all-around terrifying aunties. The Tier Three in front of him was not only unaligned, but she was young and Titled too, her scent smelled like fresh baby blood. It would be just his luck that she was some bigshots grandchild out for adventure and seasoning like the older Bloodlines employed to train their young. God help him if the young witch was a Coven Leader’s direct descendant, it would be fucking royal load of nightmare fuel, literally and figuratively.

That would explain how someone so young knew enough about the Darkness to write such a detailed message. Lord Raphael thought his eyes gleaming with predatory light. I need to distance myself from this walking disaster. I need to clean up the scene, I can’t have anything conflict with my alibi.

There were still seconds before the Breach was actualized, and he made a split second decision based on his skewed chain of logic. Turning to the three insane human mages, Lord Raphael took a deep breath before casting his Race’s signature spell, Dragon Breath.

The three human mages were turned into nothing more than sparkling sand motes as the Draconic Effect altered their composition on a molecular level. He would be forced to pay a pittance in return for killing others on the same contract, but at this point it didn’t matter. Lord Raphael was certain he could sell the information of the Arena hunting an unaligned witch to the Color Coven Alliance for more than enough profit and protection.

Dragon and Witch eyed each other before the Witch said, “That doesn’t count as being owed a favor from the Darkness. You refused the previous offer, I’m not paying for a change of heart.” Lord Raphael rolled his eyes, the witch was greedier than a Gold!

“I was misled about you, Witch. Now, if you don’t have something pressing to do I need to see to your insane defense method.” Lord Raphael said as he eyed the approaching enemy. A quick check made him grimace. The enemy couldn’t be a simple Cthulhu, no, as a draconic species he had to get something even worse.

Race: Ancient Void Terror

Class: Plane Eater

Profession: Star Seeker

Level: ????

Four fucking question marks. That lack of information ensured he knew it was a peak Tier Six at least. Lord Raphael’s expression morphed from rage to calm acceptance. Death was inevitable. He would be avenged by his Race, and he took solace in the fact.

Plane Eaters were a unique branch of the Void species that ate Planes. While the System would eventually recover the area after killing it, and use the corpse to fashion a new Plane, it was a lengthy process. As if he didn’t have enough reasons to fight, the thought of his Hoard being devoured boosted his despair to obscene levels.

He could do this, he could hold, for forty-five seconds.

In his dreams.

Lord Raphael pulled out every trick he knew, some he didn’t, and a few that were floating theories in the space mage circle. Space bent, twisted, folded, danced, and shifted into a massive interlocking series of wards. The fact that he wasn’t Tier Seven barred him from the simplest solution available, though.

Destroying the Portal Anchors.

Lord Raphael watched the Void creature slam its first questing tendrils through the Portal to meet his defenses. From the sudden draw on his mana regeneration, it was clear he had about thirty seconds left.

Fifteen too short to save his life.

With a fatalistic air Lord Raphael turned his sharp-toothed maw to the Witch and said, “If you have anything that can buy around fifteen seconds or more, tell me now so I can get my hopes up.”

“Do you feel lucky?” the Witch replied as she stared at the Portal. Here eyes seemed to be staring directly at the Void itself.

“Not particularly.” Lord Raphael said gloomily. It was true what the Elders said, Dragon Greed was the number one killer of the race, bar none. His stupid obsession with shiny pieces of metal, rare expensive space magic, promises to enchant his scales, and the number of zeros on a contract had doomed him.

“How much longer do we have?” the Witch said pulling a strange house out of her spatial item. He still hadn’t been able to find where it was located, even transformed into his true draconic form. It was a minor irritation at this point, however.

“Probably twenty or so seconds.” Lord Raphael said after calculating his decreasing mana levels against regeneration values.

“Well. I want to say it has been fun.” the Witch said, inking a fresh sheet of paper in bloody words using her still bleeding left hand, “But this has been a real load of nightmare fuel. I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really smart in the past few life choices. Too much greed to go around you know?”

“Absolutely.” Lord Raphael said with a deep sigh, “Dragon Greed is a well-known killer among my race. The contract out from the Arena to capture you had more zeros than I could resist. They were offering to enchant my scales, and even gild my tail. With the mating season only a few short months away, I got greedy. It's hard for a mere Drake to compete with the higher Bloodlines without money to equalize things!”

The young woman nodded before saying, “I owe you a bit of a favor for clearing out those high Tier humans, so I’m going to do a solid platinum miracle for you here. If it works, we’ll be even. If it doesn’t, we’ll still be even.” the Witch said folding the sheet of paper written in her own blood before tossing it to float in the air.

Lord Raphael watched the young Witch enter her portable home with confusion. His confusion only intensified as watched the small hut compress into a circular orb the size of his eye. However, the real shock came when space magic was woven around the orb with precision beyond mortal might, it was Dungeon space magic! He watched as the entire orb was wrapped in a superior set of spatial manipulations far better than the ones keeping the Void Terror at bay. Turning his attention from the orb and paper floating, he prepared to release a Dragon Breath in order to buy a few more moments of existence.

As the Void Terror finally bypassed his own space magic he watched as the paper took the lead flying directly to the closest tendril. At the same time, like a player in one of those weird human games, the orb followed directly behind the paper. It was a weird image that delayed his Dragon Breath for a few critical moments.

Critical moments that proved the Witch’s claims of a link to the Darkness without a doubt.

The moment the paper touched the Void Terror’s tendril time seemed to freeze as the world held its breath. A fraction of a second later the tendrils whipped into motion grabbing the orb like a lover stealing his bride away. Lord Raphael could only gape as the Void Terror retreated into the Portal as if fleeing a horrific foe. The moment it was fully within the Void, the Portal snapped shut faster than Gold’s Vault door.

Lord Raphael stared at the System message that flashed into existence at the same time three Tier Seven’s blinked into existence between the Portal Steles and his own body.

Reinforcements have arrived!

Breach closed by Raphael, newest of the Bronze Flight!

The System has rewarded the sole defender, Raphael Sunstrider with a Bloodline upgrade to Bronze Dragon!

The Dragon’s Pact is upheld, honor and glory to those who did so!

ZONE DEFENSE QUEST CLOSED!

THE BREACH IS SEALED!

All three of the reinforcements turned to stare at him with cold eyes.

The hero of the minute, Lord Raphael gulped as a pissed old crone wearing a sharp pointy hat said, “What the fuck is going on here lizard?”