When Horace Loux returned to the tribe covered in dust and exhaustion, he found not grim preparations for battle, but an almost festive frenzy.
The bonfires burned brighter than ever, illuminating the warriors' faces, twisted with excitement.
The air was thick with the charred aroma of roast meat, the sourness of fermented drinks, and a thirst for blood and fire.
He had barely dismounted before a wave of noise engulfed him.
"Lord Hesa is back!"
"What news did the envoy bring? Did those horned bastards piss themselves in terror?"
"The chief said if they won't bow, we'll smash their jars and burn their towers!"
Horace Loux's heart sank. He pushed through the crowd and headed straight for the central tent.
The tent flap stood open, and the sight inside nearly made him black out.
Hoarah Loux stood bare-chested, his muscles bulging, gesturing at a hanging hide map as his voice thundered, "From here, we smash through their gates! Set fire to those filthy jars! Asei's precepts make us tougher. Charge in and cut down everyone you see!"
What sent Horace Loux's blood pressure soaring even higher was Marika, standing beside him.
She had actually changed out of her usual dark robes into an ill-fitting suit of leather armor dug up from who knew where, tightly clutching that ancestral "rolling pin"-the Stone Mallet.
There was no fear on her face. Instead, an unnatural flush colored her cheeks, and her shining eyes remained fixed on Hoarah Loux. Every so often, she nodded vigorously, her lips moving soundlessly as though reciting some battle prayer.
"Brother!" Horace Loux's voice rose above the clamor inside the tent.
Hoarah Loux turned, saw his younger brother, and grinned broadly. "Asei! Just in time! Listen to my plan. Those hornsent won't stand a-"
"Plan?" Horace Loux interrupted, his tone sterner than ever before.
"You call this a plan? This is suicide! You're sending our warriors to bash their heads against Belurat's stone walls!"
The tent fell silent. Several lesser chiefs summoned by Hoarah Loux exchanged glances.
Hoarah Loux's smile froze, and his brow furrowed. "Suicide? Asei, did the hornsent scare you witless? We have the precepts now. We're tougher, and even less afraid to die! Marika said it too. This is the first step we must take for the Golden Order! A glorious battle!"
Right on cue, Marika swung the Stone Mallet hard. Though the motion was awkward, her expression was utterly resolute. "Yes!"
A powerful wave of dizziness washed over Horace Loux.
How many days had he been gone? The tribe's "brain" had already shut down completely, taken over by the most primitive urge to kill and a handful of empty slogans.
He looked at Marika, trying to find a trace of reason or compassion for those who would be sacrificed in her eyes, but all he saw was pure, clear stupidity.
He had overlooked the most crucial thing: when he, the only person who habitually thought things through, was absent, the tribe's entire leadership consisted of a pack of battle maniacs, plus one easily roused Empyrean.
At least, that was how it looked on the surface.
The Two Fingers and the Shadow Beast might ensure Marika and Hoarah Loux's personal survival, or even victory, but what about the ordinary warriors?
Was their blood nothing more than nourishment for that so-called "golden first step"?
No. Absolutely not.
Trying to talk them out of it directly was useless.
All his brother could hear right now was "where to fight" and "how to make the fighting more satisfying."
Meanwhile, Marika was completely immersed in her own emotional response to being given a "sacred mission."
He needed outside help, a "brain" that could "understand human speech" and whose interests could be temporarily tied to the tribe's.
No choice. I hadn't planned to seek her out this early... Froesanks, the Dragon Communion priestess who served the ancient Dragonlord Placidusax.
To bring down the rebel Bayle the Dread, she had forsaken her dragon form and taken human shape, guiding warriors through the ritual of Dragon Communion.
She possessed wisdom, knowledge of dragon incantations, and a clear and powerful enemy.
Most importantly, she needed mighty warriors to serve as her "blades."
And his brother, Hoarah Loux, might well be one of the sharpest "blades" in the Lands Between.
"Brother," Horace Loux swiftly changed tactics, his voice growing calm as he pointed to another region on the map, far from Belurat, marked with rugged mountains.
"We do need to attack Belurat, but not now. We're missing something."
"Missing what? Axes? Or courage?" Hoarah Loux snorted discontentedly.
"We're missing the 'fangs' to tear through the hornsent's defenses, and the 'wings' to let our warriors fly."
Horace Loux spoke faster, with unquestionable certainty.
"I know a place where that power lies hidden. There's a dragon there, a powerful, ancient drake who betrayed dragonkind-Bayle the Dread. It lurks on Jagged Peak. Its power, its heart, are precisely the 'fangs' and 'wings' we need."
"A dragon?" Hoarah Loux's eyes suddenly lit up with the gleam of a hunter spotting unparalleled prey.
In any legend, dragons were supreme symbols of power.
Slaying a great dragon-that glory sounded far more exciting than attacking a hornsent town.
"How strong is it?"
"Very strong. But a wise priestess is watching it, and she's also searching for warriors capable of slaying it."
Horace Loux continued to steer him along.
"If we help her get rid of Bayle, we'll gain not only the spoils of a dragon, but also her friendship and knowledge. Think about it, brother. When your warriors have not only the toughness of the precepts, but can also breathe dragon breath, briefly soar through the air, and even gain protection like dragon scales... when we turn our eyes back to Belurat then, will those hornsent still count as an obstacle?"
Hoarah Loux's breathing grew heavy. He seemed already to see tribal warriors clad in dragon scales and breathing fire crushing the hornsent's battle lines.
This was much more interesting than smashing headlong into walls!
"Where's that priestess? Where's the dragon?"
"Not far. But Jagged Peak has unusual terrain. We need an elite strike force, not a large army."
Horace Loux revealed his true aim.
"This time, you and I will take a few of our most trusted guards-the predecessors of the Crucible Knights-along with Marika's Shadow Beast, just in case. We'll make it quick. The other chiefs will lead the tribe's main force, continuing to train in the precepts and stockpile supplies, while making a show of preparing to attack Belurat to keep the hornsent's attention occupied."
He deliberately looked at Marika. "Marika, you should be part of a legendary expedition, rather than merely... a siege that might turn into a stalemate."
Marika blinked. She glanced at Hoarah Loux's eager expression, then hefted the Stone Mallet in her hand before finally nodding. "All right. I'll listen to Hoarah... and Hesa."
Hoarah Loux had no further objections. He slapped his brother hard on the shoulder. "Good! That's settled! Pick our men, get ready, and we leave first thing tomorrow! We're going dragon slaying!"
Things went unexpectedly smoothly.
Horace Loux selected only a dozen or so of the strongest warriors, joined by himself, Hoarah Loux, and Maliketh, who silently melted into the shadows.
Marika had wanted to come, but stayed with the tribe after Hoarah Loux's blunt, unromantic promise: "Just wait. I'll bring back dragon teeth to make you a necklace."
Traveling light and fast, the party crossed the rugged mountains on the edge of the Land of Shadow, heading toward the Grand Altar of Dragon Communion, steeped in an ancient aura.
Rather than the magnificent structure they had imagined, the altar was a site formed around a natural mountain hollow.
When they stepped into the altar's grounds, a figure was already waiting quietly there.
It was Froesanks.
She calmly surveyed the intruders, her gaze lingering briefly on Hoarah Loux and the fierce warriors behind him before finally settling on the face of Horace Loux, who appeared the most "composed."
Although the group before her seemed to have ulterior motives, she still recited her lines by the book:
"Warriors, do you wish to devour the power of dragons? Do you wish to devour the burning heart of the oldest, most vicious dragon? That supreme Dragon Communion will surely satisfy your desire, and take you further still, transforming you into a dragon."
I haven't figured out when the Crucible Knights were established. Hoarah Loux himself never used Crucible incantations, so where did these knights learn them?
Normally, they would have to go through Dragon's Pit, but since there wasn't much to write about, the author skipped it.
Before you continue