Hoarah Loux paid no attention whatsoever to what Froesanks said.
His ears had caught only the key words "dragon," "most fearsome," and "heart." His eyes, blazing with fighting spirit, had already locked onto the sinister mountain behind the Dragon Girl, where thunderclouds faintly coiled.
That was undoubtedly Jagged Peak, the lair of Bayle the Dread.
"Which way? That mountain?" he interrupted Froesanks's chant in his rough voice, his greataxe already resting on his shoulder, his fingers tapping impatiently against its haft.
Froesanks paused briefly, seemingly surprised by this utter lack of ceremony, but still nodded. "...Indeed. Bayle the Dread roosts atop Jagged Peak. His savage lightning shrouds-"
"Got it!" Hoarah Loux roared. Like a beast released from its cage, he charged toward Jagged Peak on his thick legs without even calling to the guards behind him, each thundering step leaving a shallow dent in the hard, ancient stone.
The sixteen elite warriors he had brought were long accustomed to their chieftain's ways. Without needing an order, they followed close behind with low growls, quickly disappearing onto the treacherous path winding upward from the altar's edge.
Horace Loux remained where he was, watching the dust his elder brother and the guards had kicked up as he rubbed his temple helplessly.
He could even imagine that the only thoughts echoing through his brother's head right now were simple, brutal ones like "chop it down," "tear it apart," and "dig out its heart."
He turned toward the silent Froesanks beside him.
The ancient dragon priestess, who had abandoned her dragon body to appear in human form, was calmly watching Horace Loux with her draconic eyes.
Her cold face showed no expression, but Horace Loux could sense a speechless disbelief slipping through the slight tilt of her dragon head.
"Is he, your companion, always like this?"
Horace Loux sighed and managed a somewhat awkward smile. "...Yes, most of the time. He's a warrior, a pure warrior. Thinking about tactics and listening to guidance are usually my jobs."
He paused, then added, "But rest assured, when he promises something, he will see it through, usually in the most direct and effective way. Bayle the Dread won't escape his reckoning today."
Froesanks offered no judgment. Her gaze passed over Horace Loux toward Jagged Peak, where muffled roars and the sharp ring of weapons striking stone were already faintly audible, occasionally mingled with Hoarah Loux's excited battle cries.
"To help you achieve your goal." Froesanks withdrew her gaze and focused on Horace Loux again, seemingly having decided he was the one in this "strange pair" she could communicate with.
She raised a hand covered in fine scales, palm upward. A gentle, ancient golden glow slowly gathered, condensing into an intricate rune imbued with the aura of dragon lightning and some ancient blessing.
"In the name of my lord, Placidusax, I grant you strength. You may find it useful when you fight Bayle."
Horace Loux did not refuse. He solemnly reached out and accepted the hovering rune.
"Thank you for your gift, Lady Froesanks." Horace Loux bowed slightly.
"This blessing will be of great help to us."
Having received the Ancient Dragon's Blessing, Horace Loux did not immediately turn to catch up with his brother.
He stood where he was, looking at Froesanks.
The Dragon Girl's gaze was calm and deep, carrying the detachment of someone accustomed to watching the years pass. Yet beneath that detachment, Horace Loux could also discern a steadfast obsession with slaying the traitor Bayle, along with a trace of loneliness, as though she could go peacefully to her death once her task was complete.
He knew the game's "plot"-after guiding a warrior through Dragon Communion and the defeat of Bayle, Froesanks seemingly exhausted her purpose and fell into silence.
But now, standing before him was a living being.
He needed wisdom. He needed someone who could rein in that bull of an elder brother at crucial moments.
This ancient Dragon Girl before him might be an excellent choice-if she could survive.
"Lady Froesanks," Horace Loux began carefully, his tone sincere.
"Through a turn of fate, our tribe has become embroiled in the struggle between Empyreans. Our future is uncertain, and powerful enemies surround us."
Horace Loux continued, speaking slowly but with the clarity of someone laying out the facts.
"My brother chose to follow Marika, to take the path of fighting for survival. I cannot change his decision, but for the tribe and for him, I must smooth the road ahead as much as possible and reduce unnecessary sacrifices. That takes wisdom and insight. It takes someone who can offer advice beyond a warrior's instincts at crucial moments, or at least...hold him back from charging into the most obvious death traps." Horace Loux looked straight into the Dragon Girl's eyes.
"I can see that you possess the wisdom and foresight we need. You serve the ancient Dragon Lord and have witnessed countless rises and falls. I wonder...after Bayle has been defeated, would you be willing to turn your attention, just a little, toward our tribe? You need not follow us at all times. All I ask is that, at critical moments, you offer my brother some 'less direct' advice. The golden tide may surge, but an ancient dragon's covenant can likewise endure through time."
Horace Loux spoke subtly, but his meaning was clear: he hoped Froesanks would serve as Hoarah Loux's unofficial adviser after Bayle's defeat, or at least stop him from constantly just charging in to "attack." In return, the ancient dragons could at least retain a place within the Golden Order.
What, how could he decide the ancient dragons' standing within the Golden Order?
Obviously, he couldn't. It was only an empty promise.
Froesanks fell silent for a moment, studying Horace Loux.
The request this young barbarian had made went beyond her original "script."
The purpose of her existence was to guide warriors through Dragon Communion and the slaying of the rebel Bayle, thereby fulfilling her oath to her lord.
After Bayle's defeat? She had never had an "after."
Yet his proposal did touch upon something deeper.
Placidusax had been dormant for a long time, and the Dragon Clan's power and influence in the Lands Between had long since dwindled.
If the Golden Order truly rose, what would it mean for them? Not necessarily anything good.
Perhaps this could preserve a trace of the ancient Dragon Clan's existence, and a window through which to observe, within the cracks of a new age.
And...the peculiar field of constraint surrounding this Horace Loux concerned her somewhat.
That mightiest of warriors might not be someone she could draw into the Dragon Clan's camp, but this one before her...
Seeing that Froesanks had not immediately refused, Horace Loux knew there was a chance.
The sounds of fighting from Jagged Peak grew fiercer. Hoarah Loux was probably fighting one of Jagged Peak's Flying Dragons.
Froesanks looked in that direction.
"Warrior, I have heard your request. Your brother...he is an unsheathed blade, his edge laid bare, but easily damaged as well. If he truly can take Bayle's head...I will help him when he needs it."
She had agreed, but her tone carried the casual air of someone who would "take a look after finishing the final task."
Moreover, the sense of her "mission coming to an end" was strong in her words.
That was not enough. Horace Loux needed a firmer guarantee.
He could not let such rare wisdom evaporate like morning dew after Bayle's defeat.
"Thank you for your generosity." Gratitude appeared on Horace Loux's face as he stepped closer, as though merely wishing to express his thanks more fully.
At the same time, deep within his mind, the soul that housed the core of his precept system trembled slightly.
He drew upon the energy reserves he had accumulated, locked onto Froesanks's unique and powerful soul presence, and silently constructed an invisible bridge.
The power of the precepts spread along that bridge like the finest rootlets, attempting to coil around the Dragon Girl's soul.
He had already decided on the terms of the vow: [After Bayle's defeat, be loyal to me], in exchange for [Restful sleep and replenished strength every night].
Energy drained at a tremendous rate, like mercury spilling onto the ground.
Horace Loux felt a slight weakness wash over him, and a familiar throbbing pain rose in his temples.
His expression unchanged, he maintained eye contact with Froesanks, as though simply listening attentively.
Froesanks seemed to sense something, like a breeze brushing an ancient pool and stirring barely visible ripples.
Her golden slit pupils contracted slightly, and her gaze scrutinized Horace Loux's face for a moment.
In the end, Froesanks did not investigate further.
The precept was branded upon her without a sound.
It was like signing a name in invisible ink upon an ancient contract scroll.
Reassured, Horace Loux lingered no longer.
He offered a brief farewell, then turned and hurried toward the fierce sounds of battle.
He needed to catch up with the main force as quickly as possible, or at least be present at the most critical moment. At the same time, he needed time to recover the strength he had just expended imposing the precept.
The cost had been slightly greater than he had expected. After all, his target had been the soul of an ancient dragon. Even in human form, her essence far surpassed that of an ordinary human.
The scenery along his route quickly grew more treacherous.
The mountain path was rugged and strewn with shattered rocks.
The air was filled with the pungent smell of ozone and a faint scent of blood.
Soon, he saw the edge of the battlefield ahead.
It was a relatively open platform on the ridge, clearly a chokepoint on the way to the lairs higher up.
An enormous Flying Dragon was lunging, biting, and sweeping its tail wildly.
Its opponents were none other than Hoarah Loux and his sixteen elites.
Hoarah Loux had nothing but scorn for tactics.
Laughing wildly, he swung that terrifying greataxe, meeting every swipe and bite from the Flying Dragon head-on.
The axe blade struck dragon scales, erupting in dazzling sparks and teeth-grating scraping noises.
He made no attempt to dodge the dragonfire that could melt rock. He merely turned slightly, weathering it with his thickly muscled shoulders and arms. His skin hissed and smoked as it burned, yet he seemed not to notice. Instead, he seized the chance to hack his axe into the Flying Dragon's neck as it drew back slightly after breathing fire, ripping open a deep wound and sending dragon blood pouring like rain.
The sixteen guards worked together seamlessly. They had clearly already accepted the precepts Horace Loux had introduced, maintaining a steady formation as they shared the burden of the Flying Dragon's attacks from other directions.
They all bore injuries to varying degrees, but their eyes were fierce. Their shouts as they fought mingled with Hoarah Loux's battle cries, brimming with a violent beauty that set the blood racing.
Horace Loux stopped at the edge of the battlefield rather than joining in immediately.
Watching his brother rampage freely amid dragonfire and claws, watching that utterly pure fighting style, he felt a jumble of emotions.
This was Hoarah Loux. This was the future First Elden Lord, Godfrey. His path to power was destined to be paved with his enemies' corpses and his own blood.
Just as well. At least he's having a good time right now.
Horace Loux shook his head, suppressing that trace of helplessness.
He found a relatively stable boulder, leaned against it, closed his eyes, and began regulating his breathing, practicing the meditation method he had worked out himself.
He stopped paying attention to that bloody, unrestrained dragon-slaying battle and turned his awareness inward.
His spent energy needed replenishing, the throbbing in his temples needed easing, and more importantly, he needed to gather strength for whatever might happen next.
Whether it was handling the situation after Bayle's defeat, dealing with possible subsequent changes caused by the precept on the Dragon Girl, or carrying out the great westward migration planned upon their return to the tribe, all of it required him to remain in peak condition.
In the distance, the battle gradually neared its end.
Under Hoarah Loux's absurdly ferocious assault and the guards' fearless harassment, the Flying Dragon finally let out a dying cry. Its enormous body crashed to the ground, throwing up clouds of dust.
Drenched in blood, Hoarah Loux stood atop the dragon's corpse, raised his dripping greataxe high, and let out a roar that shook the mountains.
The guards surrounded him, excitedly answering their chieftain's triumphant roar.
Horace Loux slowly opened his eyes. Some of the weariness in them had faded, and his usual composure had returned.
He stood, brushed the dust from his clothes, and walked toward the clamor of victory.
Seeing his younger brother approach, Hoarah Loux grinned broadly. "Hesa! Did you see that? These big winged lizards aren't much after all! Warm-up's over. Time to find the real one!"
He kicked the dragon corpse at his feet, brimming with vigor.
"Mighty work, Brother," Horace Loux offered briefly.
"Take a little time to rest and recover. Bayle will be the hard fight. The Ancient Dragon's Blessing Lady Froesanks gave us can help."
He opened his palm and shared some of the rune's power with Hoarah Loux and several of the more seriously wounded guards.
Warmth flowed into them, bringing a measure of protection. Hoarah Loux felt it for a moment, then nodded. "Interesting. Let's go!"
The group did not linger. After replenishing their supplies, they set off again, following the increasingly steep mountain path, ever more densely marked by lightning, toward the summit of Jagged Peak.
The higher they climbed, the heavier the air grew. The faint thunder seemed to explode directly inside their chests, and tiny arcs of electricity occasionally leaped between cracks in the rocks.
Horace Loux followed in the middle of the group, recovering his condition while he thought.
The precept he had imposed on Froesanks would begin to take effect after Bayle's defeat.
"Be loyal to me" was its core, but how would "loyalty" be defined?
Would it mean absolute obedience, or something closer to assistance as an adviser?
And what form would "restful sleep and replenished strength" take? All of that remained to be seen.
But regardless, this hidden piece had been placed.
Next, he had to ensure his brother successfully defeated Bayle, and then...try to truly incorporate this ancient Dragon Girl into his plans.
Even if he could not control her completely, he at least had to make her a "voice" at his brother's side that he could influence.
Red Lightning Pot: [It is said that the ancient dragons who betrayed their lord to side with a tyrant wielded red lightning attacks that spread.]
And the red lightning of the ancient dragon Senessax, on the road to Jagged Peak, does spread. Though that could also be because water conducts electricity, I think that since the text describes it, it isn't meaningless.
So Senessax might be the ancient dragon who betrayed the Dragon Lord, rather than a watcher.
--
The author tested it with a mod. The dragon lightning still spreads on dry ground. It seems Senessax really is a traitor.
Before you continue