That Time I got Turned Into a Dragonoid

"We must hurry and report to the king that Lord Leonidas is a traitor!" Gorham, the dwarf, said urgently, his voice low but filled with determination. His eyes were wide with concern, and sweat beaded on his forehead. He wasn't alone, though. Standing beside him were Gohard and Sigfried, both just as anxious.

They were hidden away in the storage room of the village, a place that Scarlett had ordered to be built in case of emergencies. The room was cramped and filled with supplies, but it served as the perfect place for secret conversations.

"I still can't believe he's been plotting this whole time," Gohard added, his voice trembling slightly. He glanced nervously toward the door as if expecting someone to overhear them.

"He was always so calm, so... trustworthy," Sigfried said, shaking his head. "We should've seen it coming."

The three of them had told Scarlett a sob story when they first arrived. They claimed that a noble had stolen their work and then accused them of copying him. The noble had them thrown into prison, and desperate to support their families, they had no choice but to come to Dreadhaven and start over.

But, of course, that was all a lie. A well-crafted story to earn her sympathy. In truth, they were spies, sent from the Kingdom of Gwarga to gather information. They had been feeding every detail of Dreadhaven's defenses, resources, and secrets back to their kingdom. The reason Lorien knew every hidden route in and out of Dreadhaven? That was because of them.

Gorham reached into his cloak and pulled out a small, peculiar device. It was sleek and had intricate markings on it, pulsing faintly. This device was their lifeline, a telekinesis communication tool that allowed them to send messages directly to the Kingdom of Gwarga. With a deep breath, he channeled his mana into the device, and it began to glow softly, ready to transmit their latest findings.

But just as the device started activating, a voice echoed from behind him, smooth but menacing.

"Who are you communicating with?"

Gorham's heart nearly stopped. His blood ran cold as he felt the warm breath on his ear. Slowly, he turned his head and saw Scarlett, her head resting on his shoulder casually. But her presence sent a shiver down his spine, paralyzing him with fear.

"M-my lady?" Gorham stammered, his voice shaky. His knees buckled, and without hesitation, he dropped to the ground, bowing deeply. His forehead almost touched the floor as he begged for his life.

"Please, forgive us! We had no choice—our families... they're being held captive by the king! We only did this to save them!" His voice cracked with desperation as he clutched at the floor, trembling.

Behind him, Sigfried and Gohard fell to their knees as well, terror in their eyes. 

"Gorham speaks the truth, my lady," they both chimed in unison, their heads bowed low, too afraid to even look up.

Scarlett's lips curled into a soft smile, her hand reaching out to rest on Gorham's shoulder. "Stand up," she commanded, her voice calm, but there was an icy edge to it that made his stomach churn.

Gorham scrambled to his feet, trying to steady himself as his mind raced, searching for a way out of this. 

"Tell me,"Scarlett's gaze was locked onto him sven though she was wearing blindfold, her smile unwavering. "Did you do your job?"

He swallowed hard, nodding quickly. "Y-yes... yes, my lady. I—I even trained many of the villagers. They're skilled now, surpassing even me! They're... they're ready for whatever you need!" He blurted out anything that came to his mind, hoping it would be enough to save him.

But the room seemed to grow colder as Scarlett's smile twisted into something darker. She leaned in close, her grin wide, revealing sharp teeth beneath her lips.

"Great, Now I have no use of you! ".

Gorham's eyes widened in horror. "W-what?" His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief sinking in as Scarlett's grip tightened on his shoulder.

 

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It was around 4 AM, the sky still dark but with a hint of light as the sun was just about to rise. In Dreadhaven, no one had slept that night. The whole village had been restless, the atmosphere heavy after the recent events. Soldiers sat on the ground, keeping watch, and the villagers who still had homes stayed inside, but no one could close their eyes. The fear and tension in the air were too thick to allow anyone to sleep.

Many of the villagers had already started repairing the damage caused to the village. Hammering and rebuilding echoed in the streets, with people determined to fix what had been broken. The roads of Dreadhaven were alive with activity, but a heavy silence hung over them.

Suddenly, one of the house doors swung open with a loud crash, and something flew out, landing with a sickening thud in the middle of the street. It rolled a few times before coming to a stop. The villagers nearby froze, their hearts pounding as they cautiously approached the object.

A small crowd gathered around, whispers spreading like wildfire as they saw what it was. 

It was a head. Gorham's head. Blood still oozed from the stump of his neck, and the villagers stared in horror, recognizing him as one of their own—until recently.

Moments later, Scarlett stepped out of the house, dragging two more figures with her—Sigfried and Gohard, both alive but barely. They were struggling, trying to free themselves, but their faces were pale, and their voices shaky as they begged for their lives. 

Scarlett's gaze swept across the crowd, her voice cutting through the night. "These three are traitors to the village! What should we do with them?" she asked, her tone cold and commanding.

For a moment, there was silence as the villagers processed her words. Then, one voice rose above the crowd, trembling with anger.

"Kill them! Kill them!" A woman, her face streaked with tears, shouted. She was one of the few survivors from a recent attack, and the memory of her friends being slaughtered was still fresh in her mind. The pain of their betrayal was raw, and she wanted justice.

"Yes, kill them!" Another villager shouted, followed by another.

Soon, the crowd was roaring, their voices filled with fury. "Kill them! Kill them! They deserve it!" The chant grew louder, the people united in their demand for blood.

Scarlett's lips curled into a smirk as she watched the scene unfold, satisfied with the response. She turned her head slightly, her eyes landing on Li Feng, who stood nearby. 

"Li Feng," she called, her voice calm yet full of authority. "Behead these two in public."

The villagers cheered in agreement, their desire for revenge rising with every passing second.

The crowd was still chanting, their voices ringing in the early morning air, as Li Feng stepped forward. His face was calm, but his eyes held the weight of what he was about to do. He looked at the two men in front of him—Sigfried and Gohard—who were kneeling on the ground, their hands bound, their faces pale and twisted in fear. They were trembling, their eyes darting from Li Feng to the villagers, silently begging for mercy.

The village fell silent, watching with bated breath as Li Feng unsheathed his sword. The blade gleamed in the soft morning light, sharp and deadly. He walked slowly toward the two men, the weight of the crowd's expectations pressing down on him. He had done this before, but it never got easier.

Sigfried's breathing became ragged, and he shook his head, whispering pleas, his voice barely audible. "Please... spare us... we didn't mean for it to end like this."His voice cracked, but Li Feng didn't flinch.

With one smooth motion, Li Feng positioned the sword above Sigfried's neck. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. The villagers held their breath, their eyes wide, waiting for the final blow.

And then, in one swift movement, the blade came down. It was quick—too quick for Sigfried to even scream. His head rolled forward, landing on the cold ground, his eyes still wide with shock. The blood pooled around his neck, dark and thick, as his body collapsed beside his severed head.

Gohard, who had been watching in horror, let out a choked sob. "No... no... please! Please!" He struggled against his bindings, tears streaming down his face, but it was no use.

Li Feng approached him next, his face as expressionless as before. The villagers stared, some in awe, others in grim satisfaction. Gohard's pleas became desperate, but they fell on deaf ears. Li Feng raised the sword again.

The blade cut through the air, and Gohard's fate mirrored Sigfried's. His body slumped forward, lifeless, while his head rolled to the side, blood pouring onto the ground.

For a moment, there was silence. The bodies lay still, their heads lying just inches away. The crowd's cheers and shouts from earlier had faded into a quiet murmur, as if the weight of what had just happened settled over them. Some villagers turned away, unable to look at the lifeless figures.

Scarlett watched from a distance, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. "This will be the fate of anyone who betrays me."

Li Feng stepped back, wiping the blood from his sword. He glanced at the two bodies on the ground—cold, lifeless, and stained with guilt. There was no victory in his eyes, only the solemn duty he had just fulfilled.

The villagers began to disperse, but the image of the two traitors—beheaded, their bodies left as a grim reminder—stayed with them. It was a warning to all who thought of betrayal, a reminder of the price that must be paid.