“Astillians are nice, courteous, and kind people, they really are. Make no mistake, they can hit as hard as anyone else, they just don’t like to throw their weight around if they are in a position of power.

It’s just… they are so damn naïve to think that everyone shares their attitude.”

-From “Nortanis: A beginner guide to the nations.”

Nashariel pov

The dragokin cursed loudly. “Let’s hide!” She commanded, looking at Dan. Her instinct was good in a pinch, but his skills were much better to hide in the long term. She reformed her armor, her charred cloak slowly regenerating on her shoulders.

The human lost his smile some time ago and agreed with a nod.

The Templars skulked along with the ruins, keeping their eyes and ears wide open. Every sudden sound made them jump, considering that the dragons were still 'playing' in the sky, and sometimes crashed on the village.

The strange thing was, they hadn't found any corpse yet, but this was clearly an elven village since all the houses were mainly built with strong-looking wood. Well, what remained of them, at the very least.

Nashariel thought and re-thought about the smirking priest. Why doing that?! Was… was this a trap for us? She gritted her teeth. Doesn’t matter now.

Dan stopped the group, his eyes fixed on a half-fallen house.

“Something the matter?” Asked Nashariel, already feeling the spear forming in her hands.

“I thought… there it is!”

The group saw an arm gesturing for them to come closer. They looked at each other.

“It can’t be worse than that.” Declared Dorel, nodding towards the sky.

Can’t really say no to that. Nashariel nodded. “Be careful.”

The Templars made their way towards the person. Each step filled with tension, once they were in, they saw a bandaged elf who hushed them. He then gestured them to follow in silence. The group obliged.

The elf opened up a hatch, before diving in. Nashariel stood in the rear, closing the thing behind her. They walked, silently shuddering each time an impact from above made the ground tremble and made some dust rain upon them.

Flickering candles lit the tunnel, barely, extinguishing right behind the group. After what seemed to be hours later, but probably just mere minutes, the tunnel opened in a large room. Most of the people in there were elves, with the few exceptions being some –kins and the Templars themselves.

What Nashariel believed to be the remainder of the city’s population stared at the newcomers with a mix of hope and fear, their muttering incomprehensible to Nashariel. The clothing they wore was ragged and dirty, often with the blood of their owners. Some of the said people presented various degrees of burn, some originating from charred stumps.

The stench of infection, herbal concoctions, and resignation filled the air, making it almost impossible to breathe. She was pretty sure that one woman leaned on the wall was dead. There must be little more than a hundred people… may Astill’s mercy be upon them… be upon us all…

Wordlessly, the group administered first aid as quickly as possible. Veliel sang in a low voice, sending ripples of light on the occupants. At first, the action made the tension rise, but various relieved sighs soon melted it.

Nashariel switched to light, activating her Aura and [Light’s refuge]. She avoided her Mind form, for now. There just wasn’t enough time.

Dan and Dorel contributed by changing bandages and administering the many medicines they stocked up before coming. Nashariel felt proud of their preparation. She too had much stored in her now regenerated mantle.

Not everyone made it.

Nine bodies were laid on the room's side, where a Ranger gave them the last salute before a mage opened up the ground that would be their final resting place. No one cried aloud, but tears ran down some people's faces.

Minutes later, the group was resting, recovering their mana. Most of their medicine was gone, but they had helped lots of people. They hadn’t the necessary expertise to regrow limbs, unfortunately.

Minutes later, they got approached by the same Ranger that let them in. He had removed the bandage, thankfully, but nothing could be done about his tired face.

The elf bowed to them. “The forest is grateful, Templars. Many people will hunt another day thanks to you.” He got up again, eyeing them one by one, stopping a tad more on Nashariel. “My name is Lophien, Ranger of Lyah’thien. Can you assist us in killing those beasts?” The last part was asked in a dubious tone.

Only Astillians considered rude to [Identify] someone.

Nashariel explained to him what happened. "And so we are stranded, but we are willing to lend our help. Just… I’m not sure about our chances against the four of them.”

The Ranger’s shoulders had deflated during her retelling. “We didn’t know that the Sacred Bastion was in such a state. We wouldn’t have asked for the help of kids.” He stated bitterly.

Nashariel suppressed a mote of anger. Typically, a full-fledged Templar was above the 100 Lvl threshold, so the statement made sense, even if it was annoying to hear.

As she was about to retort, Lophien bit his tongue. “Apologies, I overstepped. Your help has been invaluable for us, we just hoped for…” he sighed deeply, “more.”

“We don’t blame you, considering what happened.” Wrote Veliel, glancing at Nashariel in a warning fashion.

The dragokin felt a pang of shame. They lost everything; if I was in their shoes, I’d want the Grandmaster too instead of me. “No apologies needed.” She muttered.

Lophien nodded, his shoulders dropped. “Is there no hope that you can help us to kill them?”

The team looked upon each other. “I’m positive that we could kill one of them, as a team. You identified us, so you should have noticed my… peculiarity. If I’m not rude, what are your hunters’ levels?”

He slowly nodded. "I saw you take the blow for your group and I saw your crests. I wouldn't have let you in, otherwise. I thank Lyah'thien for my decision. I’ll call the others.” The elf walked away.

“What are our odds, boss?” Whispered Dorel.

“It depends on how powerful those hunters are, but… I’d rather not test our chances.” She didn’t lie. Nashariel thought that she and her team could win against a single fire dragon without too many dangers. Unfortunately, there wasn’t just one big lizard.

Lophien returned together with his colleagues. Their eyes were bagged, but embers still burned within them. “So, do we hunt?” Bluntly asked a female elf.

“What are your levels, if we may ask?” Wrote Veliel.

That earned a scoff from another elf, this time a wolfkin. “Have you not bought [Identify]? If so, use it, child.”

Nashariel identified the group, not so much because she was permitted it, but exactly because she felt like being rude.

*Wood/Wind-Elven ranger Lvl 119-142

Wood/Blood-Wolfkin hunter Lvl 154

Wood/Shadow-Elven scout Lvl 129

Wood/Poison/Curse-Elven poisoner Lvl 128

Althei's last protectors. Like all elves, they are born with the Wood variant, allowing them to speak with nature and bend it to their will while hunting the various predators roaming near their homes.

Fragile, though fast and agile, prevailing against them requires either a high perception or Aoe attacks; getting rid of the surrounding flora is recommended. *

Nashariel uncomfortably noticed that her skill advised the best ways to go for the kill. Those are high levels, and this guy has three affinities. He had been the third person that Nashariel met with so many, outside of herself, during her life. “How have you not felled those dragons?” She asked, before being able to stop her tongue.

The blunt elf, the scout, winced. “They caught us by surprise. We didn’t expect a Warband to be here, this far from the ‘Flaming Fang’…” Her voice was filled with shame. "It was night. We were out of the village to investigate why the forest was too silent since it usually heralds the arrival of a large predator. We came back when we saw flames so large that even the trees couldn’t hide them.” She took in a deep breath. “I’ll spare you the details. What matters is… most of the others had already died or got eaten by that scum, save for the ones we managed to help. As you undoubtedly know, dragons are strong for their level, so we can do little as just us, especially with how wounded most of us were.” She ended bitterly, glaring at Nashariel.

Dan chimed in. “Hold on, our Quest said that you were being asked for tributes, not that the village was destroyed.”

Lophien shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. Perhaps they did, but the others refused. Phillia was the only druid who could contact you, if she told so, then it must be true.”

“Could you not escape? I mean, instead of asking for help.” Veliel asked.

“‘The weak dies’, that’s the rule of the forest.” Said the wolfkin. “Going into another village, looking like this? They would leave us to die.”

The eyes of the Astillians widened in shock.

He smirked. “Thankfully, you bunch don’t share this opinion.”

“A-and you do?” Veliel’s hands were shaking.

The poisoner, a green-tinged elf, strongly nudged the wolfkin with his elbow. “Many of our kindred that lives in the depths of the forest would behave this way, but near the border, we are more… cooperative, shall we say? Unfortunately, they would take care of us for a few days at best, before throwing us out.

Resources are limited, after all. So, to answer your first question, young singer, we must either re-take the village or we die trying.”

Silence fell in the room.

Is this what Miss Seasong warned us kids about? Are these people crazy? Nashariel shook her head. Doesn’t matter. We can’t abandon them to die, and going into the forest by ourselves is suicide. “So, how do we do it?”

The wolfkin gave her a feral grin. “Feels good to talk with a fellow hunter!” He extended her clawed hand. “Garel’s the name, little dragon. Vanguard specialist.”

She shook it. "Nashariel, Generalist, and Leader of this team. What do we know about the monsters?"

For the whole time, Nashariel had kept active [Light’s refuge], so the whole crowd looked ready to rumble. Civilians or not, they all looked capable of holding their own in battle, all limbs or not.

They planned for the rest of the night, throwing all kinds of ideas in and out the metaphorical window.

Maybe the Grandmaster had plans to recover them, but they were on their own, for now.

On their own and allied with a bunch of angry, capable elves versus a single, powerful Warband.

Time to kill some dragons. With some luck, we’ll be all back home.

Night fell.

The elves said that the dragons had rampaged for days, so this was probably a good time to strike at least one dragon, then retreat and do it again. Nashariel wasn’t the stealthiest member of her team, so she kept her distance from the Rangers and Dan, together with the rest of her team. They were utterly silent, as they couldn’t risk getting discovered.

They saw the dragon half-asleep, amiably chatting with another. They weren’t the same ones that saw the young Templars before, even if Nashariel wasn’t sure that anyone noticed. Or cared at all.

The couple had been seen fly away. Garel and the scout, Daras, had reported that the dragons had flown within a large underground cave. The Rangers couldn't get in, unfortunately, since the female had moved a large rock both to enter and to close the passage. The elves also said that one of the two moved the thing like a children's toy.

They waited in silence. Dan and many others checked and re-checked their equipment at least once per minute.

Elven eyes full of hate burned upon the dragons, so much that Nashariel worried that they could be discovered. She was both grateful and disappointed by the dragons’ lack of instinct. How can they not feel this? She thought, referring to the tension in the air, the calm before the storm, the taste of blood soon to be spilled. It spoke clearly of battle, at least to her.

“I tell you, Shandra already has it!”

“No fucking way! How?”

The closest dragon shrugged. “Dunno. Remember the last group of elves? I swear, after eating them, she looked awfully happy.”

“Damn… no way that Mother won’t choose her again to be the boss…” The other one sighed heavily, dropping his head to the ground. The land trembled.

“Yeah… what do you say about getting up early? I think I smelled something new today. We could also hunt in the forest; levels are good here.”

“Uff… I just wanna sleep tho…”

“With that attitude, you’ll become a leader in, like, never. C’mon, it will be fun!”

The first fire dragon growled. “Fine, fine you win! Fucker…” He turned in the other direction, curling up some more.

His friend gave him a toothy grin. “Good night to you too!”

They both went to sleep.

The humanoids and Nashariel waited until both dragons’ breaths became regular and deep.

The wolfkin let out the breath he held up until now. Silently, he and the Rangers approached sickly green items in their hands.

Ever so slowly, they circled the plaza, clearing the debris out of the way, then marking the ground in an ominous substance.

Hours passed.

For the last part of the symbol, the poisoner called Althos had to pass through them both. He took in a deep, deep breath, walking even slower.

Less than a third of the distance in, one of the dragons grunted.

They all froze, sweat running down them like a river.

He yawned, then rolled on the other side.

Althos had stopped breathing entirely. He resumed his path, shivering, face as pale as snow.

Nashariel could hear his thunderous heartbeat from where she stood… which meant that the dragons could too.

Three-quarters in, the other dragon’s head stood up. “What the…” He was still on the brink of sleep. Then he saw the bleaching elf between him and his friend. His eyes snapped open.

Damnation!

“Attack! For Althei! For the Great Huntress!”

At Garel’s shout, all the elves unleashed a salvo of green arrows, the skills stopping dead upon the dragons’ scales, leaving only scratches behind. The wolfkin howled, then charged in with a battle-axe together with the other warriors.

Rogue types, like Dan, melted within the shadows, patiently for their time to shine.

Spear in hand, Nashariel struck from above, iron razors already singing at her rhythm. The weapon broke the scale of the alerted dragon, immediately attracting his attention upon her. She twisted out of the way of a bite, punching the surprised dragon directly on his cheek. Her arm felt numb, but it had been worth it.

The other fire dragon snapped awake. The poisoner was directly in front of his paw. The elf was swatted like a fly, spinning directly inside a house. He landed on the hard ground, unmoving, still clenching the container.

The [Taunt] shouted by Dorel arrived a moment later, while Veliel flew towards the downed poisoner, already singing a soothing song.

“Worse than a kobold’s party!” The dragon grunted, turning towards Dorel. He inspired deeply, the same way the Templars saw doing many times, while flames sprouted to life all around them.

"Here we go," Dorel murmured, slamming his shield to the ground, whose shine was similar to the starry night’s sky.

The red flames burned everything on their path.

Nashariel was chained in aerial combat against the other dragon. He decided to follow her, instead of turning towards the other fighters.

This wasn’t in the plan.

A win in her book, though. She knew perfectly well how powerful her aura and breath were; tanking two at the same time? That was the perfect receipt for many deaths.

Glancing at the ground, the girl saw the first breath of the fight. She tightened her grip on the spear. Please, Astill, keep them safe.

Once high enough in the sky, she was a mere dragokin no more.

The fire dragon widened his eyes in shock. “A dragon? Why…?”

“Sorry, no time to talk.” Nashariel cut him. My friends need me.

Dragon versus dragon, they roared in tandem, charging at each other in a symphony of fire and steel.

Veliel pov

The siren flapped her wings as her life depended on it. Althos was on the brink, but [Medical eye] told her that he could still be saved. The blessing from the Thousand Winged Lady had gifted her an affinity towards Light, initiating her towards the path of the healer. She had made her investments already.

The downed elf’s fingers twitched, even if his chest stood still. The new priestess graciously landed near him, singing her [Healing song]. May your Eternal Chorus guide me, my Lady, she prayed, casting [Minor heal] as many times as possible.

Althos soon stabilized, coughing up blood. “My… bag… red vial…” He managed to stutter.

The siren almost ripped the thing in a hurry. She quickly recovered the vial, then helped the man to down it all. A few drops went out, but she managed.

The elf's broken bones were rapidly repaired, and surface wounds closed in seconds. What a powerful heal! Why hasn’t he cured his village with it?

He nodded toward her. “Thanks, singer. I’ll recover in a minute. Go help the others.”

Veliel didn’t like his commanding tone, but she went anyway. Petty bickering could wait for later.

The dragon’s flame washed over Dorel’s skill, leaving him unscathed if panting. The skill streamed down in his physical shield; glowing lines lit up along it, and the defender’s armor shone sacred light.

Veliel’s [Medical eye] noticed that he presented a minor burn along his arm, but his stamina had been almost halved. The siren changed her song into one of renewal, springing the rise of everyone’s stamina regeneration. Her [Siren kin] skill canceled the need to breathe when singing, up to one hour, thankfully.

As the red dragon activated his aura, flames burned the attackers. The temperature rose to unprecedented highs, the very ground beneath them caught fire. Unprotected flesh got seared, forcing the siren to sing a tune about the coming of life, enhancing vitality.

Skin regenerated and got burned again, but at least the people wouldn't become charcoal. Veliel, without stopping her song, weaved together a vision of control, submission, and weakness. She then pronounced the brief chant that she felt best adequate to manifest said vision from the Flux to reality [By the lineage of the Sirens, by my Will, by the command of the Lady of Compassion, cease your violence, Dragon!].

The Mind-spell struck the roaring monster, who instantly turned on her, eyes bursting with anger. “Spellcaster! I shall burn you first!” He snarled, then the [Taunt] from Dorel forced him to turn again. “Get off me!" The fire dragon lunged, but his movement was slowed, if only slightly. This kind of dragon wasn't known for his high awareness.

The fire dragon lowered his guard, angrily lashing out at the brave Defender.

At that moment, the rogues appeared.

Six elves grazed their sharp steel against the unprotected throat and belly of the monster. Dan, the risk-loving idiot, appeared in front of the dragon, throwing a flurry of knives and daggers in the monster’s eyes.

Blood flowed from the dragon’s wounds, mixed with green-yellow substances. The Inquisitor grinned.

The dragon, unfortunately, was less than amused. He intensified his aura even further, outright vaporizing wooden handles and severely burning the attackers. Rogues were quick to retreat, but not some melee fighters.

The stench of burned flesh filled the air.

Veliel sang with all the intensity she could muster, so much that her throat bled. Despite that, two elven civilians were reduced to ashes.

She glanced above, towards her fellow monster and friend. Their beloved boss wasn’t doing too great either.

Veliel changed her song into one of endurance against the storm, augmenting people’s resilience and vitality. She hoped it was enough. The siren observed the battle from above.

Most of the backline kept firing arrows at incredible speed, pelting the monster in a continuous stream of wood and iron. Guided by their vanguard, civilians and Rangers kept pounding the monster's armor with what they had, ignoring the flames clinging to them. Althos was barely able to walk and was using their distraction to complete the cursed formation.

Despite all this effort, [Medical eye] told the priestess that the dragon was still in good health. His mana reserves were dwindling, as shown by the flickering flames. Unfortunately, it resorted to more physical attacks. Each time he wasn’t under the effects of [Taunt], he would either breath fire on the distant archers and Veliel, or slash around him. Sometimes people didn't stand back up.

At the umpteenth [Taunt] the dragon looked utterly fed up.

Dorel was a brave human, and his new defense was powerful, but against a dragon’s might? It wasn’t a fair match.

The Templar was doing his utmost best, as the giant monster tried to squash him like a bug, now ignoring the elves pelting his sides. Only Garel and his Rangers were doing noticeable damage. The wolfkin abused the power of his battle-axe to maul one of the monster’s legs.

Her friend was down to his knee, while his tower shield shone like the sun at noon. “Die already!” The monster snarled.

Veliel couldn’t unleash her [Siren’s horror], as even her already wounded allies were in the range of her racial skill, so she wove another spell. Tapping into the Flux, she imposed her will upon the world.

[May your strength fail you, and may your scales be as brittle as glass, dragon!]

[May your shield stand like a beacon at midnight, may your body last longer than the sirens’ songs, defender!].

Veliel's new wand allowed her to cast two spells at the same time, even if her skills, both the system’s and hers, weren’t up to the task, yet. Still, the incredible mental strain forced her to land. She looked at the Templar and the dragon, finding their positions to be almost unchanged.

Utterly spent, she watched as the monster abused all of his weight to press even harder.

Dorel's shield broke in an explosion of light, forcing the monster to recoil, his scales singed. The defender slit backward a few meters, slamming his head on the ground twice. He stood unconscious. The siren's heart clenched.

Free from the [Taunts], the dragon roared with palpable glee. Grinning in a feral way, he slammed his tail against his attackers, once per direction, making some space for himself.

Rogues exploited this distraction once again, leaving behind a new set of injuries on the monster. Dan was slowly dragging their friend’s body away, leaving the crumpled shield behind.

The dragon inhaled, eyeing his surroundings with hunger and fury.

Taking all caution away, Veliel shouted with her real voice. "NASHARIEL! HELP!!!” The sound reverberated in the area, dizzying to beings other than another siren.

From above, a maddened roar replied to her calling.

Moments later, two bodies landed on the fire dragon with a sickening crunch.

Nashariel pov, minutes ago

The omnidragon crunched on her opponent’s scales, while he did the same with hers. His grip was stronger, but her defenses were superior. The bites both failed to inflict significant damage.

Nashariel and the fire dragon flapped their wings, even when grappling each other. The dragoness used her tail like a giant spear, piercing the monster's hind leg.

She got a pained grunt for her trouble, so she repeated the action. The other’s tail swatted hers away, violently, then trapped it. Soon after, flames licked her armor, scorching her body.

The monsters exchanged bite for bite. Nashariel’s armor got chipped more and more, as time passed. She stopped flapping her wings, using them to slash the fire dragon on the sides instead. They easily broke through the scales but failed to bite as deep as usual. Is this how other monsters feel when they hit me?

The other intensified his aura. Standing close to him was quickly becoming a pain in the backside, but Nashariel had no alternative, as her armor would have vanished if she shifted, and she still was trapped in melee. Still, she abused her weight to force the other to beat his wings harder, if he didn’t wish to land in a bad way.

The fire dragon noticed this, so he let go of her after swiping his claws on Nashariel’s neck. She barely ducked out of the way of the left hand, but the other cleanly sliced through her weakened armor, cutting her flesh below.

The titans heaved for breath. The exchange had been short, but not even the Burrowing storm had been this exhausting to fight. The Seamonster had numbers on her, but this dragon had the same raw might that allowed her to prevail on that zapping fish.

“Why are you working with those weaklings? Did they pay you, mercenary?” Heaved the fire dragon. “I can assure you: raids are much better.”

Nashariel snarled. "They are people that lived their lives in peace until your Warband destroyed their home. I came here to help them!”

The other chuckled. “Ah, you are a domestic pet, then. Shame, I was starting to respect you.”

“I’m no pet, I’m an Astillian!”

The fire dragon smirked. “I wonder if your companions think the same. Mortals do not view us as their equals. Do you think that they will hesitate to get rid of you, once you won’t be useful anymore?”

[Fury] was dangerously close to activating. With a snarl, Nashariel charged her breath, then she unleashed it upon the monster.

With a twirl, he avoided most of the attack, retaliating with one of his own. The storm of razors surrounding Nashariel dispersed part of the skill, while the dragoness gained altitude to dodge the rest.

The dragon abused her repositioning to slam into her, mercilessly biting into her arm. With a metallic groan, the Armor snapped.

Seraing-hot teeth sunk into her naked flesh, while an arm clamped Nashariel’s mouth shut.

The omnidragon decided it was time to change ‘clothes’.

Sparks and pops danced on Nashariel’s scales. She dumped all the mana she could in a single moment in her Voltage skill, then discharged it in a single aura pulse. Thunder and lightning came to life, venting their anger on the first target available.

The fire dragon shut his eyes, blinded by the sudden light, then started to spasm uncontrollably, sinking his fangs deeper in. He used his four legs to push the dragoness away, dragging back with him part of her flesh. His form smoked, and he was looking worn out as well.

Nashariel's stamina tanked considerably. She was forced to immediately change form, deciding on the dark one. A bit of recovery would do nicely.

He looked at her astonished. “What the… you… it’s… it’s you! We finally found you!” He erupted in a maddened cackle. “Shandra was right to-”

“NASHARIEL! HELP!!!”

Glancing towards the ground, Nashariel saw the situation. Archers were desperately pelting the landed dragon, melee fighters hacked away without caring for their burning clothes.

More importantly, two of her friends were down.

[Fury] finally activated, and she roared with it.

Caring not for the other’s blabbering, Nashariel shifted in her Mind Aspect. She charged her mana, then flew straight into the fire dragon. The omnidragon put everything that she had left into her aura and breath, forcing the other to accept a single command.

“Fall.”

The duo plummeted fast, wind whistling in their ears. Nashariel used the fire dragon as a cushion, landing against his friend below.

She heard many cracks of bones breaking. Her tail wasn't responding anymore, and one of her legs bent at the wrong angle. Nashariel held back the tears.

"Keep them there!" The poisoner shouted.

He had completed the magic circle, apparently. It reeked with Curse affinity, glowing malevolently at everyone.

The fire dragons groaned, shook, then roared at her.

Nashariel took a few steps backward on her remaining three legs. It wasn’t hard to feign hurt and fear.

The duo attacked her in tandem with claws and fangs.

The dragoness, empty on mana, kept the three of them inside the glowing circle, striking with her remaining limbs.

“All set! Escape, now!” Garel howled. The grounded circle closed in a greenish-dome, extending for twice Nashariel’s height.

The elves inside the spell retreated as quickly as they could, some dragging the most wounded. Both the unconscious Templars were carried by the young Inquisitor, who winked at her.

Showoff. Nashariel smirked in turn. The fire dragons stopped their assault, sending fearful glances at the spell. The trio of monsters could perfectly feel the humming of mana, who whispered at them with hate.

The dragoness shifted back into her dragokin form, darting away towards safety.

She bounced back against the dome.

Astonished, she punched the spell. It didn't flinch. "Hey, I can't get out!"

The poisoner’s eyes widened like those of a frog. He bashed the now solid dome with everything he had at hand, including throwing a vial at it. It ate the ground like nothing, but the mana held. He stared at her with a pained grimace “I can’t-”

With a single pulse, the spell fully activated.

After that, everything became agony.