I woke up to the soft glow of dawn, feeling an unexpected weight across my chest. Blinking groggily, I looked down to see a massive, scaled tail draped over me. It shimmered with deep shades of black and blue, faintly iridescent in the morning light. I turned my head to find Lyrieth in her true dragon form, her immense body curled beside me, her presence both majestic and heavy.
Carefully, I tried to slide out from under her tail, but the movement stirred her awake. Her golden eyes fluttered open, pupils narrowing to slits as she lifted her head and looked down at me.
“Good morning, Wolf,” she said, her voice rumbling with a mix of amusement and authority. “It seems my slumber was heavier than I intended.”
“Great job staying awake!” I grumbled, finally freeing myself from her tail and stumbling to my feet. “Some protector you are.”
Lyrieth chuckled, the sound resonating deeply from her chest like distant thunder. “Even dragons need their rest,” she replied, shifting into her human form with a fluid, almost ethereal grace. “But fear not—no harm came to us during the night. After all, who in their right mind would challenge a dragon?”
“You mean engaging and killing a dragon is something only a crazy person would do?” I shot back, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
Lyrieth, now standing before me in her human form, raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her lips. “Indeed,” she said, her tone laced with dry amusement. “Only a fool or someone with a death wish would engage a dragon in battle.”
That’s when the realization hit me like a splash of cold water. I had seen this dragon before. “I just happened to shoot some ice in your general direction. It’s not my fault that you dragons go down so easily.”
Lyrieth’s smirk widened, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. “Go down easily? Ha. If only it were that simple.” She took a step closer, her gaze steady and piercing. “Don’t underestimate yourself, or me, for that matter—especially not me. There are very few who could even dream of slaying an Elder Dragon. If someone underestimates you, it would bring shame upon my name, and I would claw my way through anyone who dared sully my – I mean our honor.”
“And I have the utmost respect for our elders,” I said, rolling my shoulders, “but it was just some ice and then something—probably you—exploded. Did I hit a fuel line or something?”
Lyrieth’s expression shifted, her playful demeanor giving way to a more serious gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a hint of intensity simmering behind the gold. “It wasn’t just the ice, Wolf. You tapped into something far more ancient and powerful than you realize. The explosion you caused wasn’t mere chance—it was the manifestation of that magic. Dragons like me do not fall easily to conventional means.”
I frowned, still unconvinced. “So, you’re saying I have some kind of hidden power? A ‘chosen one’ situation?”
She shook her head slowly, her voice softening, but her words heavy with meaning. “Not exactly. But you did trigger something far greater than a simple spell or ice shard. There is a dormant magic within you—one that I believe even you don’t fully understand yet.”
She paused, her gaze steady as if weighing my reaction. “That’s why our bond is significant,” she continued. “Together, we can uncover and harness this power—your power. I can guide you to reach your fullest potential.”
I sighed and shook my head, a wry smile tugging at my lips. “You sound like a life coach. I’m not sure what you’re trying to sell here, and I definitely don’t know the price, but rest assured—I’m not buying.”
Lyrieth chuckled, the sound rich with genuine amusement. “I suppose I do sound like a life coach, don’t I? But I’m not trying to sell you anything, Wolf. What I’m offering is knowledge and guidance. The price? Merely your willingness to learn and adapt.”
She stepped closer, her eyes locking onto mine with a fierce intensity that made my skin prickle. “This world is filled with mysteries and dangers beyond your current comprehension. Your power is rare and unique, and it will draw both allies and enemies. Ignorance is a luxury you cannot afford.”
Her expression softened slightly, and she placed her hands on my shoulders, her touch surprisingly warm. “Think of me not as a coach, but as a mentor. Someone who can help you navigate this world and harness the power within you. Whether you choose to accept my help is up to you, but know this: the journey ahead will be much more difficult if you go it alone.”
I shrugged her hands off and started walking, our shoulders brushing as I passed. “Fine. Walk with me then, if you want,” I said over my shoulder.
For a moment, Lyrieth watched me, her expression unreadable, then she sighed and fell into step beside me. “Very well, Wolf. I will walk this path with you, whether you accept my guidance or not.”
“Excellent,” I said, my tone dripping with sarcasm. “Well then, oh wise guide, grant me your wisdom and lead me to the nearest city.”
Before I could take another step, a huge claw swept under me, lifting me off the ground. The world spun, and I found myself dangling several meters above Lyrieth’s enormous dragon form, her claws clasping me tightly.
“Your wish is my command, master,” she growled, her voice resonating through her massive frame. With a powerful beat of her wings, we soared upward, the wind tearing at my clothes as the ground blurred far below.
“Not so fast!” I shouted, my voice barely carrying over the rushing air. “We can’t just fly into a city; it’ll terrify the people!”
Lyrieth’s voice rumbled above me, a low, almost mocking growl. “Why does the wolf concern himself with the fears of sheep?” Her wings cut through the sky effortlessly, gaining speed with each beat.
“Just set me down before we’re in sight of people!” I yelled, my pulse racing as the world below rushed by in a dizzying blur.
With a sudden dive, she veered toward the ground, and before I could brace myself, I found myself plummeting. I landed with a jarring thud in the middle of a thorny rosehip bush, the branches snagging on my clothes and scraping my skin.
PIERCING RESISTANCE UPGRADED 1/10
Instinctively, I upgraded it to 10/10.
STARTED SUBQUEST: Impervious Physical Warding
More quests—how annoying.
I groaned, struggling to untangle myself from the prickly branches. “Couldn’t you have found a less painful landing?”
Lyrieth landed gracefully beside me, shifting into her human form before her feet touched the ground. “Please state your special requests sooner, or I cannot fulfill them,” she replied, her lips curling into a smirk. After a pause, she added, “Master.”
I ignored her comment and glanced at the map that had appeared in my field of vision. A street was marked not far away, leading directly to the city gates. I started walking toward it, with Lyrieth following closely behind.
As we approached, the street came into view. There were merchants with heavily laden carts, a few dangerous-looking types with weapons strapped to their backs, and soldiers in uniform. Everyone seemed to converge on the wide road that led up to a sturdy stone gate, where guards checked paperwork and collected tolls from the merchants. The line moved slowly but steadily, with people chatting in hushed voices or keeping to themselves.
Lyrieth and I sat on a flat rock beside the road, just outside the gate’s checkpoint. From our vantage point, I could see the exchange of coins and papers, as soldiers inspected goods and let travelers through.
Lyrieth glanced at the line, then at the bustling city beyond, and sighed. She lazily caught a yellow-blue bug that flew too close, letting it crawl across her fingers. “We could just conquer the city,” she suggested, her tone bored as she flicked the bug away.
“There’s an entrance fee, but it seems like it’s only for merchants,” I said, ignoring her comment. “If we carry weapons and blend in, we might be able to pass as mercenaries or travelers.”
Lyrieth raised an eyebrow. “So, you don’t have any money you can magically produce?”
“I haven’t found any in the inventory,” I replied, “but I do have some weapons and a helmet.”
“Wonderful,” she said dryly. “So, we sneak into the city like some ordinary—”
“No,” I interrupted. “We’ll put on some armor and get in there in a civilized and legal manner.”
Before I could offer her any gear, her clothes shimmered and shifted into form-fitting black leather armor, as if it had been tailored specifically for her. She adjusted the straps with a casual grace, her expression one of faint amusement. “I just need a sword.”
I pulled one from the inventory and handed it to her, the blade catching the light as she inspected it. With a nod, we made our way to the back of the line, taking our place among the other travelers.
One thing about Lyrieth, I thought, is her ability to wear clothes automatically when in her human form. That’s… convenient. Her nakedness would definitely be a bit too distracting, not to mention problematic. And it seems like she can change outfits at will—something I’d have to ask her more about later.
As we shuffled forward, I glanced over at her. “Please don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
Her golden eyes sparkled with mischief. “Your wish is my command, master,” she replied, her voice laced with a playful mockery.
I frowned. “Why did you start calling me ‘master,’ anyway?”
“You called me ‘wise one,’” she said, her lips twitching as though suppressing a smile.
“I’m pretty sure I called you ‘wise guide,’” I replied, “but that still doesn’t explain it.”
Lyrieth shrugged, her tone light but with a hint of something deeper beneath. “You addressed me with respect. I’m merely returning the favor.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze appraising me. “Besides, I find it… entertaining.”
“Glad I can be your source of amusement,” I muttered as the line inched forward.
She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You have much to learn about addressing beings of power, Wolf. Consider this a lesson.”
I glanced at her sideways. “If this is a lesson, then what’s the next one? ‘How to speak without getting turned into a newt?’”
Lyrieth chuckled, a sound like a low purr. “Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s ‘How to survive your own sharp tongue.’”
The line moved forward again, and we were only a few spots away from the gate. I shook my head and glanced at the checkpoint, where guards methodically processed the travelers. “Okay, let’s focus on getting inside without causing a scene,” I murmured to Lyrieth. “Blend in, act natural. We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention.”
As we continued to approach, my expression turned more serious. “Just follow my lead, and we’ll get through this without any trouble. Ready?”
A guard stepped forward as we reached the front of the line, his gaze scanning us briefly. He wore a silver helmet adorned with a blue plume that reminded me of a Roman crista. His leather armor was reinforced with metal plates, and a blue mantle draped over his shoulders. I’d seen other soldiers in red, which made me wonder if different colors denoted different ranks or organizations.
“Merchant, traveler, or candidate?” he asked, his tone brisk and businesslike.
Lyrieth stepped forward confidently, her demeanor calm and composed. “Travelers,” she replied smoothly, meeting the soldier’s gaze with a steady look. “We’re here to explore the city and perhaps find work. No trouble—just looking to blend in.”
The soldier scratched his head, seeming momentarily unsure. Then he regained his composure and said, “That’s two copper coins for five days. A work permit costs extra, and you’ll need to register at a guild.”
I quickly stepped in, shaking my head. “We’re candidates, actually,” I said, flashing the soldier a weary smile. “Please ignore her; she’s tired from the long journey.”
Lyrieth raised an eyebrow but, thankfully, kept her mouth shut.
The soldier’s eyes flicked between us, a hint of suspicion glinting there for a moment. Then he gave a curt nod. “Alright, candidates,” he said, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary. “You’ll need to head to the registration office at the main market for further instructions. No fee for candidates, but make sure you follow the rules.”
He stepped aside, allowing us to pass through the gate. “Welcome to Elarian. Keep out of trouble.”
As soon as we were inside, Lyrieth glanced at me with a smirk. “We did it. Fantastic work, master of deception,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “What’s next? Want to join the Adventurers Guild and become S-Rank within three days?”
“For fuck’s sake,” I grumbled, “let’s register at the office like the soldier told us. From the looks of it, you need some kind of passport or you’ll end up in trouble.”
Lyrieth sighed, a flicker of frustration crossing her features. “Very well, to the registration office, then.”
We navigated through the crowded streets, dodging vendors and curious onlookers. The registration office was a wooden building situated at the edge of the main market, with a steady stream of people filing in and out. The air was thick with the mingling scents of roasted meat, spices, and parchment, and the low hum of conversation buzzed around us.
Inside, clerks sat behind a long wooden counter, shuffling through stacks of papers and scribbling notes. Lyrieth approached one of the clerks confidently. “We’re here to register as candidates,” she said, her tone respectful but firm.
The clerk looked up, his gaze flicking between us. “Names?” he asked, dipping his quill into the inkwell.
“Wolf and Lyrieth,” she replied smoothly. “We’re here to explore the city and seek opportunities within the adventure guild.”
The clerk froze for a fraction of a second, then quickly nodded, jotting down the information. “You’ll need to provide some form of identification or proof of origin,” he said, not looking up from his writing.
Lyrieth glanced at me, then back at the clerk. “We… don’t have those with us,” she said, a hint of hesitation entering her voice. “Is there another way to register?”
The clerk’s quill paused mid-scratch, but then he nodded slowly. “If you have no identification, you’ll need to undergo a brief examination to verify your intentions and background.” He glanced up, his eyes lingering on us for a moment before gesturing toward a side door. “Follow me.”
He led us to a small room in the back, dimly lit and sparsely furnished, with only a table and two chairs. “Wait here,” he instructed, stepping out and closing the door behind him. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Lyrieth turned to me, her expression serious. “Let’s hope this doesn’t get too complicated. I can always burn the city to—”
Another door swung open, letting in daylight and the clink of armor. A figure stepped inside—a man with the features of a snow wolf, covered in white fur and wearing a red cape over leather armor. His sharp, intelligent eyes regarded us with an unsettling focus. I forced myself not to stare, but his presence was magnetic, demanding attention.
“Finally,” Lyrieth breathed, stepping forward as if to approach him, but I grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Please, shut up and just follow my lead,” I whispered urgently.
To my surprise, she fell silent immediately, her eyes flicking to me with a hint of curiosity. The wolfman’s gaze lingered on us, and I could sense the weight of his judgment as he took us in.
“Please follow me”, the wolf man said and turned around. We walked the main streets upwards, the crowd parted before us like a receding tide, only to surge back together in our wake.
After a while a magnificent castle came into sight. An imposing structure of white stone and gold accents that gleamed in the sunlight. Tall, slender towers reached towards the sky, their peaks adorned with intricate carvings and banners fluttering in the breeze. The main building was a vast expanse of arched windows and grand balconies, each decorated with ornate railings and lush greenery spilling over the edges.
Massive double doors loomed at the entrance, carved from dark, polished wood and reinforced with metal. They were flanked by two imposing statues—one a wolf, the other a dragon—both poised as if ready to spring to life at the first sign of danger. The details were so precise that I half-expected to see the marble muscles ripple or the stone eyes shift to follow our movements.
Lyrieth glanced up at the statues, a faint smile curling at the corners of her lips. “Quite the display,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on the dragon’s coiled form. “They got my likeness almost perfect.”
I raised an eyebrow, glancing from the statue to her. “You’re saying that’s supposed to be you?”
“Of course,” she replied with a hint of pride. Her eyes shifted to the wolf statue beside it, and the amusement in her expression dimmed slightly. “And that one,” she added, nodding toward the stone wolf, “is Beowulf, my old nemesis. I defeated him only a few years ago.”
Her tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, as though the memory still carried weight.
“You have a nemesis named Beowulf?” I asked, trying to keep the surprise out of my voice. “Isn’t that a little… on the nose?”
She chuckled softly, a sound like distant thunder. “The name is older than your stories, Wolf. He was a true force to be reckoned with, back when he still drew breath.”
I glanced back at the wolf statue, noticing the fierce snarl carved into its features, the marble teeth bared as though frozen mid-growl. “So what happened?” I asked. “Did you—”
Lyrieth cut me off, her gaze snapping back to me. “It’s a tale for another time,” she said, her voice suddenly firm. “For now, we have more pressing matters.”
As we continued forward, the weight of the palace’s grandeur bore down on us, a silent testament to the power and authority that resided within its marble walls. The towering structure, with its golden accents and intricately carved stonework, seemed to radiate an aura of history and dominion.
But we didn’t enter the palace. Instead, we walked past it, heading toward a smaller building nestled beside it, surrounded by a two-meter-high wall of gray rubble stone. A simple gate allowed us entry.
Don’t get me wrong, the wall itself wasn’t at fault—it was sturdy enough, with wooden reinforcements and rough masonry that spoke of function over form. But positioned next to a palace of white marble and gilded splendor, it might as well have been a makeshift barricade.
As we stepped inside, a group of people passed us on their way out, their expressions a mix of frustration and disappointment. They were flanked by a small detachment of soldiers who seemed more escort than guard, though the distinction hardly mattered in a place like this.
We emerged into what appeared to be a training ground. The space was nearly deserted, the dust on the ground disturbed only by a few scattered footprints. Wooden dummies and racks of practice weapons lined the edges, while the open center seemed to beckon challengers.
The wolfman stopped and turned to face us. His eyes gleamed with a steely resolve, and his voice was calm but commanding as he spoke. “Please, fight me.”
The words hung in the air, settling into the quiet training ground like a stone dropped into still water. I glanced at Lyrieth and signaled for her to step aside. She did so with a slight tilt of her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
Drawing my sword, I faced the wolfman. He gave a brief nod, seemingly satisfied, and then in one fluid motion drew a katana from the sheath at his side. Without hesitation, he slashed at me in a wide arc. I stepped back, the blade slicing harmlessly through the air where I’d just been.
I recognized this kind of sparring—an exercise meant for practice rather than victory, where both participants moved with reduced speed, each attack measured and deliberate. The point was to match your opponent’s pace, maintaining a kind of slow-motion dance. Sure, I could have sped up and struck him, but that wouldn’t be fair. It was all about playing by the rules.
I mirrored his pace, stabbing slowly toward his chest. At the last moment, he moved his katana from right to left, parrying my blade. But now I had an advantage. With a quick shift, I seized his sword hand with my left and pushed it forward, while my own sword dropped down, then looped up and over his arm, coming to a halt just at his neck. I stopped myself from completing the strike, making sure not to touch his skin.
SWORD SKILL UPGRADED: 1/10
“One point for me,” I said, sheathing my sword with a casual grin. But then I noticed the silence. The air felt heavy, and the wolfman was staring at me—no, through me—with wide, fearful eyes.
“I hope I didn’t hurt you or break any rules. I’m so sorry!” I stammered, raising my hands in apology.
The wolfman continued to stare for a moment, his expression taut with something I couldn’t quite place. Lyrieth took a step forward, her lips parting as if to speak, but then she closed her mouth, watching him closely.
Suddenly, the wolfman shook his head sharply, like a dog shaking off water—that’s probably racist, I thought fleetingly. He cleared his throat and then, to my surprise, bowed deeply.
“Please… follow me,” he said, his voice strangely subdued.
The abrupt change in his tone made my stomach tighten with unease. I glanced at Lyrieth, whose face was a careful mask.
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