Tiefling (I)

Tiefling (I)

The frigid Cold Wind blew past the entrance to Stone Fortress, and the chill rushing through the cracks made the Goblin guards sneeze.

"Damn, it's freezing..."

"Yeah."

The Goblin beside him chimed in, rubbing his reddened nose. But he accidentally scratched a long gash across his face with his claws.

"Ow!"

The Goblin let out a cry.

Blood beaded from the wound, only to quickly congeal.

After several months, many of Ember Nest's followers had developed signs of "dragonization." Though these changes were nowhere near as pronounced as those of their leader, they still displayed traits unique to Red Dragons.

Such as the occasional sparse scales, sharper claws and fangs, ridged ears, and a fondness for warm or even scorching climates...

The Red Dragon, long asleep within the cave, was like a massive source of radiation, using Bloodline Gift to influence and transform every follower within Ember Nest.

Keosius was still lying on his side in the cave, his enormous body slowly rising and falling.

After the weather turned cold, the heat-loving Red Dragon had grown weary of going outside. He preferred staying in the cave, spending his days eating and sleeping like any native Red Dragon of Erezege.

Keosius lazily stretched and slowly opened his eyes. "But there are still things that need to be done."

He called softly in Draconic, "Chimera—"

The three-headed monster immediately flew out from a cave in the rock wall. Like a Loyal Dog, it obediently sprawled before Keosius, awaiting its master's command.

Ever since receiving the Bloodline Gift last time, this unruly beast had become exceptionally obedient, so much so that even Keosius found it a little unfamiliar.

Keosius continued in Draconic, "Take me to those Tieflings."

"What?"

All three of the Chimera's heads tilted to one side in confusion.

The Red Dragon was momentarily speechless. He picked up an old horned skull from the corner of the cave and tossed it before the Chimera.

"Take me to find these people."

The Chimera's lion head leaned in and sniffed it carefully, then said in still-clumsy Draconic, "Horns. Humans. Not tasty."

Keosius said impatiently, "That's them. Take me there."

Seeing this, the Chimera hurriedly lowered its body in submission, indicating that it would obey.

"Yes, Master."

It then let out a low roar, spread its wings, and took flight.

The Chimera flew out of the warm cave, leaving the broad Giant's Valley and entering the wind-swept, snowy skies.

Keosius followed close behind, flying through the blizzard.

In a clearing concealed among layer upon layer of mountains, many crude tents stood upon the snow. Not far away, a spacious cave glowed brightly with firelight, surrounded on all sides by walls hastily piled from stones—this was the refuge the Tieflings called Dilapidated Home.

The Tieflings with long horns and crimson skin lived here.

The mountains kept them from being discovered by their pursuers, but they could not shield them from the bitter cold and snowstorms.

Despite the freezing conditions, the Tieflings still wore ragged clothes. The men braved the wind and snow to fell trees and chop firewood in the forest. The women built campfires before the tents and roasted the game they had hunted. The children gathered dry branches and dead grass nearby, adding fuel to the fires and doing what little work they could.

Several injured Tieflings had been arranged inside the warmer cave, wrapped in layers of animal hides and dried grass. Yet even these measures could not stop their breathing from growing weaker or their trembling eyelids from slowly closing.

"Mezhuolash, at this rate, we won't survive the winter."

"The wounded are nearly done for. We have to go to a nearby town."

A woman's voice, hoarse from the cold, rang out.

The Tiefling called Mezhuolash turned around.

His rugged face bore burn scars. His tall frame was covered in bloodstained armor, marked by many dents from heavy blows.

His tone was grave. "Leiresa, you still hold illusions about those humans."

The female Tiefling shook her head in protest. "No, I don't."

Mezhuolash roughly cut her off, his tone growing more intense. "Those pitchforks, those Stakes, those burning houses, those naked corpses hanging at the city gates, the cheers and curses of those townsfolk—haven't they made you understand their true nature?"

"This is what humans are, Leiresa."

"If we go to any town now, we won't be greeted with fine wine. We'll only be driven away without mercy—and hunted down by the Old Vampire's lackeys."

Leiresa's voice trembled, taking on a hint of tears. "They just don't know the truth. But maybe, maybe we can clear up this misunderstanding and explain it to them."

"You should understand how humans see us by now, Devil's Child."

Those icy black eyes seemed to pierce straight through her heart, and the sudden severity in his voice stunned her.

Mezhuolash continued:

"One person is curiosity. Two people are a conspiracy."

He paused.

"Three people are a curse."

"The moment they were all incited to raise their butcher's blades against us, there was no longer any misunderstanding."

After Mezhuolash finished speaking, he paid no more attention to the sobbing Leiresa. He merely silently wiped his bloodstained Silver Sword.

The polished blade reflected his weathered face.

His horns curved like a ram's, his eyes were pure black with no visible irises, his canine teeth were sharp, and his skin was crimson. He still looked roughly human, but his devilish bloodline had left unmistakable marks upon his appearance.

What a naive fool.

Mezhuolash could not help recalling his former life, those memories intertwined with pain and suffering.

Back in North Wind Fortress, he had often been stared at and whispered about because he was a "devil's descendant." He had always endured violence and humiliation in the streets, always seen distrust and fear in the eyes of others.

But he had still had human friends worthy of his trust.

That was a kind of fortune.

And also a cruel fate.

The genuine care of his companions had allowed kindness and trust to remain in Mezhuolash's heart.

Thus, he joined the City Guard, became a Paladin at a young age, and swore the Oath of Redemption.

—Paladins of the Oath of Redemption Face Directly evil creatures, hoping to turn their enemies away from darkness and toward the light. They could only use violence as a last resort.

And unless doing so would clearly save other lives, they would never kill their enemies.

The young Tiefling believed that anyone could be redeemed, and that everyone could walk the path of mercy and justice.

Mezhuolash believed he could correct all the world's prejudice against his devil bloodline through acts of kindness, and it seemed that he had already been moving toward that goal.