“Stay with Jeavana!” shouts Ryuogriar as she jogs up to the most powerful and deadly being in the Fievegal. Geirahoel and Reignleif obey for the moment, since the emergency requires them to help, but they don’t know what’s going on inside the room. The golden dragon is babbling about Daniel being crazy, but Ryuogriar cares more about ensuring his safety.

  Yaulwembor snarls as she inhales, exhaling fire on the door to the contract room. It’s not a full-mana-enhanced blast, but she is making progress through the metal. Senn is standing a few yards back, sweating profusely. She quickly approaches the platinum dragon. “Ryuo, I’m sorry. I… I failed to hold out, and Xyreko evacuated us.”

  “Daniel’s still in there!” exclaims Kera’tai. “We have to get him out.”

  “He still has Nemaisol drawn!” replies Treia urgently. “Otherwise, he’d be out here already.”

  “If we don’t stop Yaulwembor before she penetrates the room, we’ll have much greater issues,” remarks Xyreko. “The creature will likely try to escape, and Daniel specifically asked for the atmosphere to be shifted. I don’t know what’s going on entirely, but I’ll open the doors the moment he gives the signal.”

  Ryuogriar looks at the doors while Yaulwembor continues trying to melt through with a super-concentrated flame. She orders, “Get me a pen and paper, quickly. Let’s hope Mukori taught her at least a few words.”

  The dragon approaches her faormyr counterpart. The faormyr could pass for Ryuogriar in a more draconic humanoid form, given the silvery base color to her scales, which are rapidly color-shifting due to the intense mana on the other side of the door.

  The First Dragon Empress would be lying if she tried to claim that she isn’t afraid. Yaulwembor is an unstable superweapon they can’t very easily communicate with. Hekate is the only one who compares, and she went out of her way to have many of the dragons spared, especially the six closest to Daniel, excluding Neith, who was an outsider.

  Yaulwembor has no such rapport yet.

  But, if Ryuogriar doesn’t stop her, things could get much, much worse.

  She places her hand on Yaulwembor’s shoulder as gently as she can, and she clicks her back teeth. Her ignition sparks clock loudly, but naturally, it’s a spark with no fuel. Regardless, it works to cause the faormyr to whirl her head, cutting off the flame jet temporarily as the intense heat rolls off of it. The air smells metallic from both the lingering fumes of the burned ignityal and the metal of the door, which is still burning at its edges like the door is made of wood.

  Metal fires aren’t especially difficult for a dragon to ignite, though a sustained flame usually melts the metal before it does. Molten slag is pouring down the door from its own heat, but it’s taking time for the solid material to melt. The fumes are toxic, so Ryuogriar uses wind magic to ensure none of them are breathing it in. This is especially crucial for those who are breast-feeding.

  Thankfully, Yaulwembor simply snarls, and Ryuogriar signals for the notepad. She quickly writes, “[Write]” and shows it to the faormyr.

  Yaulwembor snarls, but the dragon insistently pushes the notepad towards her. The archfiend reluctantly takes the writing materials, and with an unsteady hand, she starts forming shapes.

  Sort of.

  The only thing making the markings on the paper legible is the fact that the shapes of English are fairly easy to form, Yaulwembor is writing slowly, and she’s focused on showing goodwill.

  Once complete, the faormyr shows Ryuogriar.

  “[Danel trap. Must protek]”

  Ryuogriar smiles. She takes the notepad and writes her reply more swiftly and with simple words.

  “[Fire will kill us all. No fire.]”

  When she shows the faormyr, Yaulwembor reads the words slowly, and the realisation hits her as she forms all of the words in her head.

  Good work, Mukori.

  She then writes, “[Must trap enemy dragon. You teleport us inside. No enemy escape.]” She does her best to keep it simple, since Yaulwembor is still learning, and they can’t afford to waste time confusing her.

  Again, Yaulwembor studies the paper, reading from left to right carefully. She does reread a couple of the words, and when she finally pieces it together, she looks at Ryuogriar. With a simple nod, she writes in turn, “[Wil yuse much…]” She tries to spell something, failing several times, and finally, she simply taps and casts a simple light spell over her hands.

  The dragon empress can’t help but smile a little bitterly. Yaulwembor is a walking encyclopedia of magic simply because she apparently never forgets the spells she has copied, and she can use them without any chanting or effort. Chantless magic is not unheard of, but does require a great deal of mental focus and experience.

  Yaulwembor can apparently copy any spell on the spot with no preparation or training, no “trial period” of needing to speak the chants, and no true comprehension of the magic glyphs.

  “Everyone joining us, gather in close,” orders Ryuogriar.

  Geirahoel, Reignleif, Kera’tai, and Veiranoei all jog in, and Treia joins them each gatonine carrying railguns.

  Senn urges, “Be ready to block the air. The enemy was using black fog when I was still in there. I don’t know what it is.”

  Ryuogriar nods. “Our goal is to retrieve Mukori and retreat.”

  Jeavana jogs into the group as well, surprising Ryuogriar. The golden dragon remarks, “I… I want to see it… He… He promised me… He promised he would… k-k-kill…”

  Ryuogriar puts her hand on Jeavana’s shoulder, and she nods at Yaulwembor. She gives a gentle click of her teeth, and the faormyr immediately casts the group teleportation spell that Hekate can use.

  In an instant, they are all inside, ready to attack. Ryuogriar knows it should have been virtually impossible, but if Daniel is to be believed, Yaulwembor simply exceeds the threshold for the effect, which is what she meant by signalling that it would use a lot of magic. Or rather, her mana.

  Once they’re inside, they are all stunned by the hellscape before them. The room is utterly destroyed, with molten metal and stone melting down the walls, especially where the turrets once were. Fires burn all around, and a sticky, sinister-looking black ooze is scattered all around. Likewise, the lingering black fog that Senn mentioned is present, though mostly concentrated around the center of the room.

  There, they see what they feared.

  Daniel is within claw’s reach of a being that looks just like Yaulwembor, but larger than her humanoid form, as if she’s mid-transformation back into her true size and shape. The true faormyr snarls immediately, but the scene is stranger than that.

  What the group is observing is a still-scene, like a photograph, but one that a person could literally walk into.

  Daniel is kneeling on the ground, seemingly unconscious with his head down and Nemaisol propped up in a strange, firearm shape. The enemy has an easy opening, but she is also frozen in mid-attack, eyes burning like red and orange coals, and feet off of the ground.

  The false-Yaulwembor, who is likely the creature that came out of the portal that so-terrified Jeavana, is frozen in mid-air.

  There is a dome of energy around them, faintly crackling with golden sparks, but otherwise possessing a sort of shaded-glass effect on the interior of the dome.

  “Mukori!” shouts Geirahoel. She immediately takes flight towards the dome, and Treia cautiously follows her, calling out, “Daniel!” Veiranoei starts to jog after them, but she stops when she realizes one of Daniel’s most outgoing and zealous consorts has held her position.

  Ryuogriar studies the scene, and Yaulwembor stays on guard. From Senn’s recounting, she was struggling against the Morthybargaron-doppelganger, though she also had the drawback of not annihilating everyone, Daniel in particular.

  “Wait!” calls out Senn. She forces herself to use magic, possessing just enough to create and air-current to halt the orange dragon and gatonine in their tracks. Geirahoel stumbles in midair, landing on her backside on the ground.

  The fiery Third Dragon Empress yells, “What are you doing!”

  Senn collapses to her knees, supporting herself with her staff. “Please… wait…” She pants heavily, adding, “Th-That spell… It’s… a time-st-stopping spell.”

  “What?” asks Kera’tai with surprise.

  Ryuogriar remains silent. She looks at Daniel, who is vulnerable, yet tranquil. If time is stopped, there’s a chance he’s alright for now.

  The question is, who is protecting him.

  Yaulwembor impatiently growls and starts flying around the dome, trying to inspect it. She seems to know that she can’t touch it, given that she doesn’t dive right in, but she does seem to be studying every surface around it, as if trying to find a way in. Or, alternatively, she could be trying to figure out what the spell is so she can negate, dispel, or counter it.

  Ryuogriar is glad she isn’t causing problems, but it does make her nervous that such a powerful being can’t be communicated with very efficiently.

  And, just as they’re piecing it all together, but before they have any sort of strategy to engage the monster, there is a loud, air-ripping crackle with a rising arc of golden light. It puts them all on guard, and Geirahoel scrambles back to her feet, retreating a few steps. Treia, knowing how outmatched she is, retreats all the way back to the group. Senn wearily does her best to stand up, and Jeavana steps forward briefly, watching the scene. And, for her part, Veiranoei starts to ask, “How… has their time…?”

  Before she can finish, the air itself is torn asunder by an even brighter flash and thunderous booms.

  It’s seemingly over in an instant, but what really happened beyond the threshold of the time-stopping spell remains a mystery.

  ***

  Moments earlier, Daniel knows he’s trapped in an illusion. The ancient eldritch Lurker that is attached to him via the curse has somehow gained access to his mind, even with Nemaisol drawn. This can only mean Kaeralegier is tasked to capacity with whatever she’s doing, and she can’t reach Daniel’s mind.

  But thankfully, Daniel had the conversation with Yaulwembor that he did.

  He is in the middle of casting the one, pathetically tiny ‘lightning’ spell he knows. At its absolute, most ‘devastatingly powerful’, Daniel can manage something akin to a doorknob shock from static electricity. At least, that was the case when he was slowly gaining mana from a certain part of his diet, and has since been taken away with the curse.

  He has still been drinking the milk of his dragon mistresses. They keep hoping it will renew his mana once more, but it seems they had it all wrong.

  At least, that is what Daniel is about to test now.

  All I need is a tiny little smidgen. And, as far as I can tell, it’s moving as it should. Just a smidgen. Don’t let me down.

  Daniel keeps rubbing his fingers to his thumb right up until the moment he is ready to cast. He had nearly abandoned learning magic and was on the verge of forgetting what little he had learned. He was excited to have magic, and he learned as diligently as he could. But, it wasn’t like a story. He couldn’t immediately cast a giant fireball, raise an army of undead minions, or use healing magic to ‘heal’ locks into a disintegrated state, memories into whatever brainwashing he wants, and faces into whatever shape he wants.

  Daniel states with a cold tone, “You know, you talk too much.”

  The Lurker chuckles deviously, ready for his ‘attack’. She is ‘outside’ of the Citadel due to her immense size, and if Cthulhu could be compared to a human, then the Lurker could be compared to a dragon, except that she has many tails that almost form a ‘fan’ like a peacock, six eyes, and massive, heavily tattered wings. He thought they were tentacles, or more accurately, arms like an octopus when he last saw them, but they have a more obvious shape and movement that reminds him of the appendages of his reptilian and mammalian companions.

  “I have studied magic longer than your entire civilization has existed, my Harbinger. No amount of study would ever allow you to catch up to me.”

  “Probably not. But I do know one spell that’s pretty effective.”

  Daniel touches his left hand to Nemaisol, and he smirks when the Lurker’s expression shifts to one of horror. He says the words, “I cast: Silence.”

  With that, he unleashes the spark he built up, and all at once, he is slammed by pain.

  A moment later, the mechanic coughs himself out of momentary unconsciousness. He’s not sure how long it lasted. The only time he knows of that he fainted in his life, other than a time or two that he overestimated his ability to hold his liquor, was when he was in bootcamp and was dehydrated during the numerous blood-draws they do for in-processing. As far as he knows, he was only out for seconds, but even more than a decade and a half later, he still remembers his vision suddenly being swallowed by an almost black and white static noise like an old analog television screen, which gave way to his normal vision in what felt like an instant.

  Like then, Daniel doesn’t believe he was unconscious for more than a moment, but he definitely blacked out as he was slammed by the backlash.

  One immutable truth about Nemaisol, which Kaeralegier can ‘throttle’ to an extent, is the fact that it is made to prevent magic users from using it as a perfect counter to the heroine that Kaeralegier gave too much power to. That heroine then went on to become an ‘anomaly’, as the gods of the Divine Realm call them, and Kaeralegier turned herself into Nemaisol as both penance and a way to condense her power enough to be able to strike down her own hero.

  If Nemaisol is hit by a direct magic attack, especially one made during physical contact, there is a retaliatory spark of electrical power, both to intercept the attack just short of the blade, and to repel the opponent from being able to seize or dislodge the weapon from its approved wielder.

  Daniel managed to keep hold of the weapon, and Kaeralegier’s voice calls out in his mind, “{Daniel!? Daniel, can you hear me! Please talk to me, Daniel! We’re running out of time! Please be okay!}”

  “I’m here…” murmurs Daniel. “You pulled me out… Thank you…”

  “{Are you nuts!? You could have died! I’m draining quickly!}”

  Daniel lifts his torso, flinching briefly. Directly in front of him and diving at him with claws extended is a figure he was unsure about.

  It’s Yaulwembor, though now that he gets a good, solid look at her, ‘she’ is in mid-transformation back into the true form of the being. The doppelganger’s scales are turning a dark, nearly-black red color with none of the luster of the creature when it was alive, the eyes are draining of the red/orange color they possessed as part of the illusion, and it is about three or four times larger than Yaulwembor in her humanoid form, which is nowhere near Morthybargaron’s full size, and certainly nowhere close to Yaulwembor’s.

  Regardless, the monster is frozen in place, locked in an action pose of attack. Its eviscerated innards are hanging by narrow strands of the evil black liquor that seems to serve many more purposes for this false-living creature than blood alone does in living beings. No part of its body is touching the ground, and nothing else around them seems to be moving…

  …Inside of a bubble of dark-looking energy, at least.

  Daniel recognizes the sensation pretty quickly, especially once he sees outside of the bubble, compared to the embers, smoke, monster, and other particulate that is completely stationary inside.

  His companions have reentered the room, now including the Dragon Empresses, and they are moving normally, but none of their words are reaching him.

  Sound can’t travel through the bubble, though, because nothing within is moving, save for two; the mechanic from another world who possesses virtually no mana of his own, and the legendary sword that can negate all magic, including that of a goddess stopping time.

  Apparently, this includes the same goddess negating magic and stopping time simultaneously.

  I suppose that does it. I’m a Kaeralegierian now.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “{Stop goofing around you idiot! I’m serious! I’m almost out of strength!}”

  “Right! Sorry!” Daniel doesn’t care about his usual pretense of avoiding talking to her right now. Everyone outside of the bubble are people he trusts, and everyone else with any semblance of witness, namely, just the Lurker, already knows about Kaeralegier. Daniel climbs quickly to his feet. He escaped the Lurker’s hold on his mind, which appears to have been a strategy of attrition against Kaeralegier’s time-stop spell, which he doesn’t even know when she cast it. She didn’t warn him, and as far as he could tell, the eviscerating blow was pretty much the end of the fight in the illusion.

  Regardless, Morthybargaron is right in front of him, even if his appearance has changed and his soul is long gone. Knowing how powerful and dangerous contracts are, and that there’s a possibility that other servants beyond Hekate exist, Morthybargaron genuinely cannot be allowed to continue to exist.

  Daniel aims the railgun and asks, “You can still fire, right?”

  “{Yes, though once I’m out of power, I’ll be out of the fight again for a few days.}”

  “Sorry. I know I just got you back. Thank you for protecting me.”

  Daniel can’t really see or feel anything from Kaeralegier, normally. But, some part of him likes to think he just felt her relax a little in the way that someone might as they resign themselves to trust their partner and tag them in.

  “{Of course. Whatever happens, good luck, Daniel.}”

  The mechanic aims at the necrokinetic puppet, saying as confidently as he can muster, “Don’t you know who I am? I’m the Silencer of Magic.” Daniel pulls the trigger, and the railgun whines as it charges up, and then, ‘WHUMP!’

  It makes all of the sounds of firing, but there is no sonic boom, there is no plasma arc trailing the slug, and there is no flash of light.

  Daniel is dumbfounded, but Kaeralegier figures it out immediately. “{It fired, but the bullet can’t travel while I maintain the spell. Now that it’s fired, just get a safe distance away and… D-Daniel?}”

  The mechanic pulls the weapon away carefully, studying the slug that is now floating in mid air in front of him. There is a slight string of electricity extending away from it where it was leaving the rails of the weapon.

  Daniel immediately says, “I can work with this. Give me a countdown when you absolutely have to release the time spell. Thank you in advance.”

  The otherworlder human aims again, firing once more. Again, there is a whine and then a deep ‘Whump!’, leaving behind one more railgun shot mid-supersonic flight, yet frozen in midair the moment it leaves the magic-negating effect of the weapon.

  Daniel doesn’t waste any time, immediately pulling the muzzle back, shifting slightly, and firing again. He repeats this several times as Kaeralegier exclaims, “{You crazy American bastard! There’s only one of him!}”

  Said American silently replies with an amused smirk. He is in agonizing pain from the contracts on Serrentuk and Jeavana burning his hands, he has been ragdolled several times in the last week, and his heart feels like he has run an Olympic marathon just to come in last place.

  A week after everyone else finished.

  Still, he gives a sarcastic reply with a humorous tone to try to keep himself sane and distracted from his many ailments, “In the words of my people; ‘Peace through superior firepower’.”

  Daniel fires one last time before Kaeralegier finally says, “{Ten seconds at most. Please back away.}”

  Daniel aims and fires one last shot towards the draconid’s center of mass as he backpedals, making for fourteen in total. He does his best to count down, and the last shot is fired.

  From there, Daniel takes a proud stance saying quickly, “I already used Silence, so this time, I cast…” He darkens his tone right as his estimation for T-0 approaches, “Death.” It’s a joke he has used already and for almost exactly the same reason; to keep his mind grounded against an inhumanly powerful fiend.

  A near-instant later, the air in front of him explodes with the rapid pressure change. It’s not that the slugs are accelerating up to speed. All fourteen railgun projectiles were already at Mach 10, which is ten times the speed of sound, and several times faster than the most powerful powder-fired military rifles, including vehicle-killers like the 20mm Vulcan or the .50 BMG. Time was simply the factor that was standing still for them. Eleven thousand feet per second doesn’t matter a whole lot if there are no seconds passing for the projectiles or their target.

  That is, of course, right up until there are seconds to be had.

  The very moment Kaeralegier released the spell, the cone of death raced forward towards the incoming monster that was pouncing at Daniel, who is now out of harm’s way.

  But, he underestimated the combined sonic booms of the buckshot from hell, which hits him with a gust that knocks him back. Daniel stumbles and drops to his hands and knees in order to avoid falling and almost certainly hitting his head.

  In contrast, the sinister corpse given false-life by the Lurker is slammed by the full destructive force of the railgun buckshot, which halts most of its forward momentum in a horrific explosion of decaying flesh, scales, and sinister tarry effluvium.

  There is in fact something worse than the molasses-like liquid-evil oozing out of the dragon zombie.

  Atomized and vaporized liquid-evil and the nauseating fumes that it gives off seems to be one of the apex aberrations.

  The possessed corpse of Morthybargaron wails and shrieks loudly, which flinches everyone in the room due to its surprising volume, though part of that is undoubtedly the deafening, near-singular boom of the simultaneous railgun shots. The further-mutilated dragon, powered by necromancy rather than a soul and heartbeat, flails and flops on the ground like a horribly broken fish, or even a worm, that refuses to die.

  Daniel sighs in disgust, coughing on the foul stench. The creature is slowly returning to its true form, which should be almost impossible with the anti-magic rounds fired earlier, unless they’ve already been burned off.

  Kaeralegier? thinks the mechanic to himself and his sword-bound goddess.

  “{Here, but I’m out, Daniel. The sword will mostly work, but… don’t die…}”

  Thank you. Next big project is freeing you. I promise.

  “{I’ll hold you to that…}” her voice fades to a whisper, though Daniel understands it as the divine being going to sleep. As a goddess, she doesn’t require sleep the way living beings do, and she spent hundreds of years alone in complete isolation without issue. As long as she comes back, that’s all he cares about.

  Nemaisol has shifted back to its normal sword-form, so he carefully stows the blade.

  Just as he’s fishing in his magic bag for a weapon to finish off the dragon it calms itself enough to look directly at him.

  Its gaze is enough for him to know what he intended. It’s possible that the Lurker suspected something was wrong when Daniel requested everything but oxygen be removed, specifically. Other than the vapors from the sinister monster’s necromantic ichor, the air is now poisonous in a different way. While Daniel can probably survive at least a day or two, since he’s not deep-sea-diving, the nearly pure oxygen environment he asked for will all but literally rust his body from the inside out, especially his lungs and circulatory system. Even an ancient eldritch goddess is unlikely to know about that much, though.

  She knows enough to know that Daniel planned something, but with her puppet now crippled beyond repair, magic suppressed heavily, and surrounded by even more enemies, its options are limited.

  A spark ignites in its mouth, and Daniel reflexively starts to pivot to shield his face if nothing else. He hears the over-flare as Zenkon’s hottest-burning, naturally-occurring substance meets far more oxygen than the apex predators are designed to handle their defensive biofluid with.

  As it’s happening, Daniel is slammed by a heavy body tackling him to the ground. Before they even hit the floor, their bodies are rocked by the sudden ‘BOOM!’ of a massive explosion. Daniel can feel the jolt as they are shoved sideways, tumbling across the floor as the heavy body protects him with dragon wings.

  The air fills with the distinct, sour metallic aroma of ammonia and other chemicals. Daniel hasn’t yet had the fantasy staple of a dragon steak, which was made even more difficult for him to stomach as an option once he learned they were actually sapient, which was after he killed Mulmonbargonaed, the Red Knight. He doesn’t feel especially guilty over his death, since the main three male dragons he met initially were aggressors, and Daniel was defending himself, Hekate, and her rightful inheritance as the last of the feldroks.

  But, the heinous odor of the undead Morthybargaron’s noxious flesh burning, along with the ghastly fumes of the necromantic ichor, may just put him off of the concept forever, even if the dragons have some sort of cultural cannibalism that he has not yet learned about, which he is pretty sure isn’t the case.

  Naturally, asking Geirahoel is out of the question, Ryuogriar and Reignleif would likely lie to him like cultists trying to appease him, and Magnir and Roeta were along for the ride and had minimal rights under the Red Lord.

  Regardless, Daniel’s rescuer immediately hugs his torso as she begins sobbing, and Daniel recognizes both the tone of her voice and the way she cries. She looked only briefly to confirm the status of the enemy, and immediately, the weeping started.

  “Hey, hey! Calm down, Jeavana. Twice in one week, I’ve made you cr-...” Daniel breaks out into coughing, and he winces when her hands dig slightly into his back, squeezing him to her face as firmly as she can without hurting him. Or, at least, the golden dragon is trying.

  She all but ‘climbs’ up his torso as she sits up enough to look him in the eyes, her face already looking like a wreck. “Y-... You did it! Y-You k-k-killed him! You… You kept your promise!” She loses her words again to even more passionate sobs, flopping down onto his chest and collar as she bawls. Daniel is a bit surprised. Morthybargaron was dead already, technically speaking, and he certainly couldn’t have done it alone.

  The human pats her back, trying to reassure the dragon. “I told you, didn’t I? Barely an inconvenience.” This is obviously a lie, given how beat up he is, and how much he relied on a near literal deus ex-machina of sorts, but given that he’s still a fairly normal, rather weak human in this world, just surviving is a miracle, let alone leading to the monstrous undead dragon’s second death.

  Jeavana continues squeezing him as she cries hysterically. Meanwhile, everyone else quickly gathers around them, each with their own expressions and thoughts on different parts of the moment.

  Treia crouches as she keeps her eyes on the corpse. “Are you alright, Daniel?”

  “I’m alive,” replies Daniel with as good of humor as he can manage. He pets Jeavana’s head mainly to keep his hand ready in case he needs to stop her from trying anything, though now that her contract is removed, he wouldn’t be able to fend her off with his full strength at full health. “The line between me being ‘okay’ and ‘dead’ is pretty thin compared to the rest of you.”

  She frowns sarcastically at him, and Geirahoel glares at the mechanic. In contrast to the young orange dragon, Yaulwembor scowls at Jeavana, though she doesn’t make any aggressive movements. And, as a wary apex predator, she also keeps glancing at the necromantic puppet, which remains motionless.

  Daniel would be worried if the nearly indistinguishable lump of flesh with a few scales still had any motility left. Fortunately, the dark, tarry substance seems to be quickly flickering its violet-centered iridescence in a sort of discharge, and Daniel instructs, “Xyreko… that substance…”

  “I’ll use disposable golems to collect some for later study,” replies the golem, summoning several soldiers to immediately and carefully collect the black substance before it loses its full effects, solidifies, or evaporates.

  Ryuogriar growls seriously, “Mukori, this was supposed to be relatively controlled, was it not?”

  Daniel averts his eyes. They were prepared for the normal outcomes. But, for some reason, the Lurker decided to interfere this time.

  And, it sent the specific puppet it could potentially use to harm Hekate.

  The human finally grows impatient with Jeavana, whose tail is now flopping back and forth against his legs. “Jeavana, let me up. I have to do Emperor things now.”

  The golden dragon whines with mumbled words, “J-J-Jus’ a wi’l wonger, Hawbinder…” She nuzzles his chest, and Daniel can feel tears, snot, or a nasty combination of the two on his shirt.

  Daniel sighs and answers Ryuogriar, “I did think it was supposed to go smoothly, Mukori. I’m sorry. But, it was for the best. If Hekate had been here…”

  The Dragon Empresses all suddenly drop their irritated expressions, becoming more concerned.

  Yes, they would understand even more than I do. They saw it with their own eyes.

  “R-Regardless,” starts Geirahoel with her usual haughty tone. “You will need to explain this immediately! And, you’ll need to explain… that.” She gestures towards Daniel, but it’s obvious she means Jeavana, who is still clinging to him.

  “You’re her friends, too!” retorts the human. “You know as well as I do!”

  “I think it’s rather obvious,” murmurs Reignleif.

  The mechanic sighs. He strains to roll them both over, putting the goofy blonde on her back. She sniffles as she looks up at him, and Daniel does his best to lift himself off of her, but she clings to his shirt. “I told you I would kill him, and he’s dead now. I had a ton of help, not least of which is you protecting me, Jeavana. So, thank you. But, I seriously have to get up now. Please let me up, and cheer up.”

  Her watery eyes narrow as she manages a smile. “I’m not upset… I’m… I’m so relieved. And happy. And…”

  “Yeah, yeah…” Daniel pushes off of her collar, treating her like a human. He would have a hard time choking her, even in her much smaller humanoid form, but he still tries to treat the dragons like equals in normal interactions. Still, he has work to do, is exhausted, and he needs to make sure Morthybargaron won’t be making any more encores.

  When she won’t let him go, Yaulwembor lets out a deep, low, alligator-like growl, and everyone looks at her.

  The faormyr’s gaze is locked onto Jeavana, and her frustration is almost palpable.

  The dragon reluctantly releases Daniel, but she tries to keep some part of herself in touch with him for as long as possible, as if to entice him. Her tail, particularly, lightly hooks around his shin as she watches him, still sniffling and lying on the floor.

  The mechanic leaves her be for a moment, saying sincerely to his consorts, who came to protect him, but thankfully, Kaeralegier’s last dregs of power were enough. “If you ladies don’t mind, please incinerate every last trace of Morthybargaron once Xyreko has collected some samples. Somehow, my wonderful spiritual hitchhiker was able to recover his body as it was and make use of it, in spite of the void bag he was in being destroyed.”

  “How is that possible?” asks Kera’tai. “I’ve always been told each void bag creates its own little pocket of space… or something.”

  Senn answers, “That is the common theory, but no one can observe the other side of a void bag or similar spells. The closest would be my father’s Gate ability, which he can somewhat-observe the interior of.”

  “Either way, time definitely stops within the void bags, doesn’t it?” asks Treia. “How could it retrieve his body in the first place?” She looks at the huge, putrescent dragon’s remains. Its skull was fractured, and its already-severed neck has been separated again.

  “My guess is that destroying the void bag severed the direct tie to this world, and dumped it into whatever sub-dimension or magic hole she’s lurking in,” replies Daniel. He ponders this as he says it.

  If that’s the case… wasn’t that how Morthybargaron…? Or at least, part of it… But, then… No, I don’t want to think about that right now.

  The wayward Earthling puts it out of his mind for now. He knows his imagination, fueled by the long, long history of fiction on Earth and which he had the luxury of enjoying, will run wild if he goes down a rabbit hole, and he needs to deal with the mana fire, which he was already supposed to be on the way to in order to catch up to Hekate and the others headed out to engage the pseudo-conflagration.

  Seeing that Jeavana seems to have calmed down, Daniel offers his hand to help her to her feet. She manages to smile, wiping her nose on her sleeve one last time as she takes his hand with her other one. “Thank you, Harbinder…”

  Yaulwembor steps in to block her from trying to get closer to Daniel the moment the dragon is on her feet, but the mechanic pets the reptilian woman’s shoulder. He says slowly and with careful annunciation, “Yaulwembor…” She cocks her head at him, focusing on him. He’s hoping she’ll be able to learn slowly but surely, though she is hundreds or thousands of years old, and no one has ever been able to communicate with her, because no one could survive an encounter with her.

  The human points at Morthybargaron’s body, and he clicks his teeth several times, and then blows through his lips. It causes him to cough, and the dragons all crowd around him with instant concern. “Mukori!” cry out several voices. Daniel looks skeptically over his shoulder for a moment, but Jeavana has a simple surprised face, and she asks, “A-Are you alright, Harbinger?”

  He stares at her for a moment, but he decides he imagined it. “I’ll survive.” His gaze travels across everyone briefly, and Veiranoei glances at Jeavana, which does little to alleviate Daniel’s suspicions.

  That said, the gatonine smiles and adds, “I’m glad you’re… mostly alright, Daniel.”

  “Thanks, Veiranoei.” He then looks at Yaulwembor, and she glares at Jeavana briefly, before scowling at the Dragon Empresses in turn. She clicks her own teeth with her irritated expression, but she waits until facing away from everyone to actually ignite her pilot flame.

  Daniel requests, “Please help her, but make sure she doesn’t perceive it as a threat. We can’t afford any chance that the Lurker can revive him, specifically.”

  He waits until the Empresses glance at each other and sigh. “Very well, Mukori. You are not to move from this spot until we’re done.” Ryuogriar looks at Treia and Kera’tai, “Ensure that Mukori does not engage in any further foolhardiness until we have a chance to check him over.”

  Both of the two women giggle and nod. It’s an uneasy atmosphere, but everyone is just content that everyone is alright.

  Though, just as the Dragon Empresses and Yaulwembor are incinerating the remains, which are scattered all over the room, a head bumps into Daniel’s back between his shoulder blades. He sighs, asking, “Yes, Jeavana?”

  “I… will never forget this, Daniel…”

  “I have enough archnemeses right now, thanks.”

  She scoffs and rubs her forehead into his spine a bit, sniffling one last time. “I’m serious.” She hugs him briefly from behind. “I… feel free… for the first time in my life…”

  “I’m genuinely glad,” replies Daniel as he pets her forearms. Treia, Veiranoei, and Kera’tai roll their eyes, and he tries to give them an expression that says ‘it’s not me!’, but he knows it has been an emotional week for the golden dragon, most specifically, the last couple of days. He adds, “It’s been a stressful week for you. Morty’s dead, so if you want, why don’t you celebrate your new freedom burning his remains as mercilessly as your heart desires?”

  The dragon shifts her hug briefly, and she inhales deeply against his back, letting out her breath in one of release and relaxation. The golden-blonde finally lets him go, and she says from behind him, “The offer still stands, Harbinger.”

  “When the drunk-ass, battle-junkie, crazy auntie Jeavana comes back, we’ll talk about it then. I’d feel guilty if emotional wreck new mom Jeavana made decisions the former would regret.”

  She slumps slightly with a disappointed smile. “You can say you don’t like me, if you want.”

  Daniel rolls his eyes. “If you think I’m going to create the ‘Jeavana Game’ where you automatically win, you clearly don’t know me very well. But, if I disliked you, you would still have that…” Daniel pokes her chest directly over her heart. There is a reddened area matching Daniel’s palm-print due to the backlash of Jeavana pulling away from him and nearly breaking the connection. But, the mark that once had his name tattooed into her skin has dissolved.

  The blonde dragon smiles more warmly. “So, there’s a chance?”

  “Sure. But, there’s also a Hekate.”

  This causes her to pout, and Kera’tai finally grows impatient and shoos her away. “Go help the others already! We don’t have time for flirting!”

  Jeavana laughs and starts to walk away, “As you wish, your Grace.”

  Kera’tai sighs and starts to say, “Now, then, Daniel. I think you owe us an explanation of exactly what that trick was.”

  “Yes, please. Was it you who stopped time?” asks Veiranoei in nervous wonder.

  However, a new voice cuts in from behind Daniel. “I would prefer you start from the beginning.” This new voice surprises the group, though it’s familiar to all of them.

  Without entering through the door, four beings have arrived in the Citadel, though one of them is unconscious, and the other is exhausted.

  “Father!?” calls out Senn. She jogs to him, and the elder elven sorcerer waves his hand dismissively, “I’m alright, I’m alright. So is Sir Neith, your Graces. We’ll explain in detail, but please hear out her Divine Grace, first.”

  Daniel nods, greeting the goddesses first, “Lady Ryukana, Lady Amalaskae. How… did it go?”

  The senior goddess replies, “Zuzia is unconscious in Gate, at least for now. I’d like to hear your version of events here, Daniel.” She makes eye contact with him, and her voice reaches him with telepathy that feels identical to Kaeralegier’s. “{And, for my own plausible deniability, which may already be too late, please, don’t speak too much about the sword.}”

  Daniel twitches nervously.

  Kaeralegier bound herself to Nemaisol in order to hide herself from Chaos and Order as a sort of self-imposed exile after her blunder with her heroine Nanita.

  His sword-bound companion goddess specifically requested to hide her existence from Ryukana and Amalaskae to be safe. But, with what Ryukana just said right now, she’s all but saying directly that she knows the truth about Nemaisol.

  Without being able to consult Kaeralegier right now, Daniel has a decision to make.

  ***