Petrifying Lizard

Ron leaned against the doorframe of his temporary quarters. The campfire had burned low.

From the distant stables came the occasional snort of a horse. He was wiping the remaining blood from his sword when the system panel in the upper-right corner of his vision flashed. His level had increased, and he gained 1 attribute point.

He paused before the panel, his gaze falling on the attribute column. Agility: 8. The werewolf's claw had left a shallow mark across his breastplate.

The beast had been fast—fast enough to circle behind him even when he had been on guard.

This battle had made him realize that when facing an opponent no weaker than himself but possessing astonishing speed and reactions, the fight would be dragged into a war of attrition.

If Ciri had not pierced its left knee and robbed it of the ability to move quickly, he might not have won so easily.

Ron's gaze returned to the attribute panel. Agility 8→9.

Sunrise slanted over the ridge east of Crow's Nest.

The starting point of the race was set before the wooden bridge at the village entrance, while the finish was the abandoned tower on a distant hill. Its body had partially collapsed, and the gap at its top exposed jagged edges visible even from the foot of the mountain.

Ciri rode a young black horse, tall at the shoulder and long-legged, its mane braided by Ciri herself into several short plaits.

The Baron stood alongside her on his warhorse at the starting line, patting its neck with his right hand. His face was no longer as flushed as before, though his eyes still carried bloodshot haze.

"There's a crooked-necked tree at the foot of the tower." The Baron pointed into the distance with his chin. "First one there wins."

Ron and more than a dozen soldiers guarded the finish line. Several Crow's Nest veterans gathered beside the low wall beneath the tower. Old Gott stood on the stone steps, one hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he squinted into the distance.

A Crow's Nest veteran raised his arm overhead, then swung it down hard. The two horses charged out at the same time.

Ciri's black horse had an explosive start, shooting off the line as though launched by a spring. She crouched low, almost pressed against its neck, while her ash-blond hair was pulled straight back by the wind.

Hooves hammered over the gravel road as both horses pushed their speed to the limit. Loose stones constantly flew backward beneath their hooves. The tower drew closer and closer, and the edges of the gap at its top were now clearly visible.

A Petrifying Lizard suddenly emerged from behind the gap at the top of the tower. It was enormous, a full size larger than the Petrifying Chicken Snake Ron had hunted. Its spread wings even exceeded the width of the opening.

The scales covering its body gleamed grayish-green, and the bony spines along its wings stood out distinctly. It slipped silently from the tower's summit, gliding down along the tower wall at tremendous speed. The soldiers crouching beneath the tower did not even have time to cry out.

Ciri was the second to notice it. She yanked hard on the reins, and the black horse reared high with a shrill neigh.

The Baron was still accelerating. Seeing Ciri suddenly rein in, he instinctively pulled his own reins tight, but the Petrifying Lizard had already pounced.

It dove from the tower top. The Baron's warhorse reared in fright, and before the Baron could steady himself, he was thrown from the saddle. Almost at the same instant, the Petrifying Lizard's huge claw came crashing down from above, pinning his entire body beneath it.

His back slammed into the ground. One hand desperately gripped the lizard's claw and pushed outward, while the other reached for his waist.

The sword at his waist had flown several feet away when he fell. The Petrifying Lizard lowered its head and opened its beak. Venom dripped from its tip, while a muffled groan came from beneath its claw.

Ron moved.

He stood beside a dead old oak on the side of the tower, less than twenty paces from the Petrifying Lizard. He drew a throwing spear from the leather bag on his back, rapidly rolling the shaft through his palm to adjust its balance.

The Petrifying Lizard was lowering its head toward the Baron's chest, leaving the junction between its neck and wing shoulder completely exposed.

The throwing spear burst from his hand and shot toward the Petrifying Lizard. Its thick scales shattered and scattered instantly. The impact knocked the beast two steps sideways, its claw slipping off the Baron's chest and gouging two deep furrows into the ground.

Old Gott leaped down from the stone steps. He and Miko each took one of the Baron's arms and dragged him away from the monster.

The Baron's mouth was full of dirt, and several cuts from flying gravel marked his face. Once dragged away, he forcefully shook off Old Gott's arm and said hoarsely, "I'm fine. Let go of me."

Then he dropped against the roots of the crooked-necked tree, bracing his hands on his knees as he gasped for breath.

The Petrifying Lizard whipped its head around and let out a shrill screech. Its stench carried the sharp bite of strong acid. Its wings spread wide, their bony spines glinting coldly, while its two thick hind legs drove into the ground as it prepared to launch itself into the air.

Ron had already drawn his greatsword and held it one-handed. The blade flashed once in the light as he charged the Petrifying Lizard head-on. The beast was folding its wings to adjust its angle of attack, but Ron had no intention of letting it finish.

The greatsword slashed down diagonally from the upper left. Its edge cut into the wing membrane, the tearing sound like a sail ripped apart by a hurricane. The blade continued downward with the momentum, splitting the scales along its chest before cutting out through the other side of its neck.

The Petrifying Lizard's furious shriek was cut off in midair. Its massive head crashed onto the stone pavement before the tower, its beak still open. Its enormous body slowly toppled sideways, the beating of its wings abruptly ceasing, leaving only the faint rustle of spasms.

Silence fell beneath the tower.

The Crow's Nest veterans still stood where they were. The dust had not fully settled, and cracks where the greatsword had struck the ground remained on the earth. The air reeked of scorched acid corrosion. Ron straightened, stepped around the lizard's corpse, and wiped his greatsword clean against the grass.

Ciri dismounted from the still-frightened black horse, keeping hold of its reins as she walked toward the tree. Blood still seeped from the cuts on the Baron's face, and his hands were smeared with dirt and grass clippings as he looked up at Ron approaching.

Ron did not look at him. He sheathed his sword at the horse's side and turned to Old Gott. "Get some men to drag the corpse back and deal with it. Give the scales and hide to Brom, and the venom glands to Aina."

The Baron pushed himself up from his knees. He refused anyone's support. Turning to Ron, he opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something—

Something like, "You stole my thunder," with a string of curses, or perhaps a mumbled, indistinct "Thanks." But in the end, nothing came out.

He merely stood there, breathing heavily. Ron did not respond. He tilted his head and saw her.

Beside the stables, Ciri was unsaddling the black horse. Ron walked over as she loosened the last leather strap. She turned to look at him, her emerald eyes sweeping over the shoulder armor still stained with lizard blood.

"Impressive. Once I'm done with my business," she said, "let's find a place and have a proper fight."

Ron hung his greatsword beside the horse and nodded. "Anytime."

She did not say goodbye. She turned and followed the small path beside them out. After walking some distance, she paused, turned back, and gave a slight nod before continuing on. Her figure grew smaller and smaller until it merged with the shimmer of water in the distant marsh.

The Baron stood beneath the crooked-necked tree for a long time before heading back. As he passed through the courtyard, he patted the stone wall and left his palm resting against its rough surface for a moment.

That night, Ron decided to take Gretka back to the manor. "The child is coming back with me," he said. "Aina will teach her to read and study medicine."

The Baron glanced at him without asking any questions, merely nodding once.

Outside the courtyard, little Gretka was squatting beside the well, playing with a calico cat. She looked up and saw Ron standing at the courtyard entrance.

The calico cat leaped from her arms and vanished. Gretka clapped her hands, stood from beside the well, and looked up at Ron with eyes curved into crescents.

Ron turned around, and Gretka followed him. When she reached his side, she stretched out and grasped one of his fingers. The two passed through the Crow's Nest-like courtyard and headed toward the manor.