Ragnaros breathed out a blast of dragonfire, scattering the smoke, dust, and thorns. Watching the two figures flee into the distance, he did not immediately give chase.
He folded his wings, landed on the ground, and transformed back into human form. His face was somewhat pale from his recent outburst and fury.
Yet his gaze remained sharp. He glanced at his companion's charred corpse on the ground, then turned his eyes toward Deren, who was cautiously peeking out from behind a rock.
"Get on!" he ordered Deren curtly as he began transforming again. "Those idiots are probably fleeing toward their nest, or somewhere connected to the old man's laboratory! We're following them!"
Deren watched Ragnaros instantly transform into a Black Dragon again and rapidly weighed his options.
Stay behind? His chances of surviving alone on this island, full of lurking dangers and powerful enemies, were slim.
Follow Ragnaros? Though this chuunibyou dragon was unreliable, he was at least the only shelter Deren had right now. For the Black Dragon Companion's sake, he would not let Deren throw his life away.
Unless he was planning to throw his own life away and take Deren along for the ride.
So following him might let Deren reach the heart of the plot faster and find a way out—or die faster.
The deliberation took only a second. Deren gritted his teeth, endured the aches in his body and the stampede raging through his mind, then scrambled onto Ragnaros's back on all fours. He clutched the base of two raised scales with both hands.
The familiar jolting and the icy feel of dragon scales reminded him that the last time he had "ridden a dragon" was when he and Onyxia had gone to "bring warmth" to Orgrimmar. How the tables had turned.
"Hold on tight!