An Unwavering Craftsman

Damien awoke in the morning light, pondering what to do with his time. He'd never dreamed that he'd one day find himself complaining that the island didn't have enough monsters, but he needed entire nests to stretch his combat skills, and, for some strange reason, everyone else on the island seemed to disapprove of deliberately letting nests develop.

Still, he'd made decent progress. Not quite level ten, but the milestone was in sight, and he'd gained his first perk and feat. Earning a feat every five levels was frankly unfair.

He'd been a bit nervous relying on a priestess of Murill to buy that feat, and couldn't exactly explain to his parents why without giving away the source of his class, but everything seemed to have worked out. If the Five knew about him, they apparently hadn't shared it with their followers.

Closing his eyes briefly, he scanned the upcoming twenty-four hours with [Foresight], checking for any unexpected events that needed dealing with. Not that he was expecting any; there hadn't actually been as big a ruckus over his class as he or Fleta were expecting. The king had acted with impressively swift pragmatism, deciding that should Damien's class become widely known, the temples were sure to lay claim to him, or else other islands would attempt assassinations or kidnappings before he had the chance to gain sufficient levels to defend himself.

He thus hadn't even tried to bring him under his control, content to know he was living on the island, and had clamped down on all information leaks. Hard. There had been judicious use of his [Royal Decree] skill to forbid the exchange of information, and while in theory a [Royal Decree] could be broken, he'd instantly be aware when one was. Rumour had it that the local Earl's son—who the obnoxious youth at the ceremony had turned out to be—had already gone missing.

Thus, Damien was somewhat surprised to find that the day did, in fact, contain an unexpected event. And soon.

"Mum! Dad! High tier monster attack!" he yelled from his room. "Guild clerk here in ten minutes!"

Ten minutes later, the trio of adventurers were assembled, fully equipped, in front of the door. Damien wore only light armour; tight leather in the same style as Fleta. In her case, it was to reduce drag, but in Damien's case, it was because it was merely backup. A final layer of defence if he was knocked out, or otherwise rendered unable to maintain [Bloodwave]. His actual armour was far more impressive, but tended to leave scratches in the walls if he used it indoors. For the same reason, he bore no weapon. He had no weapon skills, and without their aid, if a monster didn't die when he ordered it to, whacking it with a pointy lump of metal probably wouldn't do much either.

The guild clerk looked somewhat surprised when they opened the door, fully equipped, before he even knocked, but he recovered quickly, despite how out of breath he was.

"Where is it, and how bad?"

"North coast. Hit Whitehaven and is heading south. Unknown monster. Estimated tier eight."

"Higher..." commented Damien, employing [Foresight] to check what they'd find there. "It's the dragon. Whitehaven is completely gone."

The clerk's eyes opened wide, while Shigeo swore.

"Well, this is it, then. Sure you want to come? It's us it's after."

"This is what we've been preparing for," answered Damien. "I'm sure. Let's go."

And they had. Preparations included the strongest potions of fire resistance they could get their hands on, then defensive items enchanted with more fire resistance. Damien had even taken [Heat Resistance] as his first perk. Whether that would be sufficient to contend with a dragon's breath, he couldn't say, but even if not, he wasn't intending to play defensive.

They had stockpiled a wide range of weapons. Single use explosives, magical traps, enchanted arrows. They'd prepared for any number of scenarios. It was a pity Damien couldn't tell them precisely what to expect, but experiments with [Foresight] had shown that the images tended to fracture into incomprehensibility if used to investigate events not in his immediate future.

And so Fleta shot off, Damien hanging from her neck with the speed dragging him nearly horizontal, Shigeo in his usual princess carry, trying not to meet Damien's eyes.

That was kinda hard, given that Damien often had thousands of eyes at once. Damien smirked at his father's discomfort.

And so, in mere hours, the trio beheld Brenhin-Tân, waiting patiently for them in the ruins of Whitehaven.

"Three challengers?" it spoke. "I summoned only two. But who am I to complain if another wishes to step into the jaws of death?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're upset about us killing your kid. We know already," said Shigeo, drawing his sword and shield. "Well, we're upset about you burning down Whitehaven. You could have just asked. And it wasn't like we started the fight with that brat of yours."

The dragon grinned, its mouth peeling back up the sides of its muzzle, revealing a row of sharp teeth, each the size of a grown human. "I care not who started it, only that your insult is answered. Come, puppets of the betrayers. Struggle, strive, and fall in hopelessness."

"Puppet?" laughed Damien, and he really did laugh. For the first time, the dragon looked at him seriously; the young human, wrapped in blood. And then the blood exploded.

Dozens of tentacles burst forth towards the dragon, which took to wing in a casual evasion. The tendrils of blood curved upwards, chasing it, but they couldn't keep up with its speed.

The maw of the dragon opened, flame already flickering within, but Fleta was ready. An enchanted arrowhead, launched by crossbow, flew directly towards its mouth. The dragon eyed her contemptuously as it prepared to roll out of the way.

"S̵̭̆t̶̜͊o̶̫͌p̴̼͒," ordered Damien, and, for a tiny fraction of a second, the surprised dragon froze. It was enough.

The mouth of the dragon blossomed in a crystal of ice, Fleta not stopping to see the results and instead launching Shigeo into the air. Damien didn't let up either, his tendrils of blood attacking more seriously, grabbing and binding one wing of the dragon, yanking it towards the ground. With a battle cry containing more swear words than Damien knew existed, Shigeo stabbed down into the dragon's eye.

Arrogance was not a trait held uniquely by humans. Why should a dragon fear the ants that were so far beneath it?

The trio of 'ants' were determined to prove why. With forewarning and preparation, they had devised a range of options to take advantage of any opening the dragon presented. And arrogance resulted in many openings.

Nor did they intend to give it a chance to recover, striving to ensure its first mistake would be its last. Damien's blood forced its way between the dragon's scales even as it crashed to the ground, Fleta flickering at her full speed and driving a spike into its other eye.

It broke its jaw free of the prison of ice, lancing the landscape with a flame that burnt the trio through their protections despite them not being in its path. Had they not have taken precautions, it would have been enough to end the fight. Instead, Shigeo laughed as he jumped from the eye, Damien's blood driving its way into the wound, widening it, and pushing through the soft tissue to attack what was beyond.

The dragon roared in pain and anger. Blinded, it lashed out at random, claws larger than Shigeo tearing great furrows in the ground.

"S̸̲̆ǘ̴̡f̶̯͆f̸̻͂ë̶͖r̷͙͋," ordered Damien, and with its wounds, the dragon couldn't help but obey, roaring again with pain as the trio continued their unrelenting assault.

Pushing [Bloodwave] the hardest he'd ever tried, Damien pulled on the blood that had worked its way beneath the dragon's scales, ripping them from its flesh. Not giving the dragon even a second to recover, Shigeo and Fleta sliced into the soft flesh beneath.

The dragon's blood poured from the wounds, flowing into the air, under Damien's control and reinforcing his attacks on the grounded dragon.

And then the blood he was pushing into its eye made it into the brain.

The creature shuddered and collapsed, the impact shaking the ground like an earthquake.

"Puppet..." it sighed, its voice gurgling unhealthily. "I see now... why you laughed... At least... those traitors... will face... judgement..."

"P̸̫̾ẻ̸̼r̸̝̿ȉ̷̲s̸̱̚h̶̨̄," demanded Damien, and then it was still.

"Traitors?" asked Fleta. "What did it mean by that?"

"Who knows? Now, how are we going to get this corpse home, and how pissed is Viscount Flemming going to be that we suddenly have materials better than what he bought from us?"

Shigeo snorted. "Not very, I'd imagine; it gives him a chance to buy even more. But still... It was unfortunate that we couldn't get here sooner and protect Whitehaven."

"Sorry... If my [Foresight] was higher level, perhaps I could have seen more clearly."

"Don't worry. Considering you've only had your class a month, you're already doing infinitely more than you should," said Fleta. "You saved our lives today."

"Every adventuring group should get a member who can see the future," snorted Shigeo. "It's a blatant cheat."

"So are all my skills," agreed Damien. "Well, most of them," he added, remembering the result of his first and only use of [Gate]. Nor had he managed to find out what [Eternal Flesh] or [Tears of the Forgotten] actually did.

"Speaking of cheats, think [Bloodwave] is strong enough to carry the corpse?"

It wasn't, and while it could lower the weight enough for the trio to successfully drag it, getting back would take days, if not weeks.

"Why don't I stay here and keep watch, while you take Damien and fetch... the island's biggest item bag? A dismantler who can deal with it in situ? Whatever works."

"Sure. It'll be quicker than transporting it ourselves."

"Why take me, though? She'll be quicker without the weight."

"Oh, that's simple. Since her arms aren't occupied, she'll want to carry you at the front rather than have you hanging off her neck."

Damien frowned as he dipped into [Foresight] and saw an extensive amount of princess carrying in his future.

And then he saw what awaited them back at Thale.

"Forget the dragon. We all need to get back to Thale. Now."

"What? Why?"

"Because Grace's corpse is strung up outside the walls."

Damien had made a terrible mistake; he'd believed that [Mindscape] had been an unqualified success. He'd been wrong. Grungle had hidden the results of the ceremony of paths from the others, a full servant and prophet of the Other in the bowl rendering his plans moot. As Arach-achanol had stated; a schemer thwarted, but not disappointed. But his interference had been a one-time thing. [Mindscape] was the domain of Murill, and Grungle could offer no protection. The moment Damien used it for the first time, she knew.

Despite Damien's belief to the contrary, she had sprung into action, alerting her peers and followers alike. But Damien wasn't someone who could be simply made to disappear; his protection was why Grungle had selected him to begin with. Murill's priests decided that careful preparation was required. Preparation that Damien couldn't see with [Foresight].

And then all that work had been rendered moot by the arrival of the dragon. No-one believed Damien's parents would win; the beast had openly announced itself as Brenhin-Tân—information which had not been shared with the family of adventurers. Any who went to face it were surely dead. Best then to act immediately to destroy the one Murill had marked before he could gain further levels, and once he was dead, to expunge all traces of his corruption.

Finding Damien not at home had been a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. None of the guards fancied a fight with a tier ten, whatever his level. If Brenhin-Tân wanted to do their work for them, it was welcome to.

That was why, when they arrived at the little used execution grounds that sat on a hill outside Thale's main gate, they discovered the corpse not only of Grace, but also of Lana. Both were strung up naked on poles, engraved signs declaring them heretics of the Five and the consorts of demons.

Fleta stared, unbelieving. Shigeo grew angry, immediately smashing down the pole to which Grace had been strung, lying her corpse gently on the ground.

The sound of splintering wood attracted the attention of the gate guard, the gates and walls rapidly becoming a hive of activity.

Damien ignored it. He needed no evidence to know he was the reason the two were dead. He simply cried, and, as his tears hit the ground, he finally discovered the means of activating [Tears of the Forgotten].