Anyone born on Earth had certain expectations when it came to fighting dragons. In all forms of popular media since antiquity, they were depicted as clashes between heroes of steel and creatures of unimaginable strength. Fighting even one of them was on the verge of what was humanly possible, requiring top skills and gear. Dallion had seen that firsthand in the moments he’d faced the dragonlets. He knew that it would require a strategy to fight them. What he didn’t expect was that he’d get to hear a dragonlet cursing after he hit one on the head with his hammer.
Onda had done a good job following the creature as it turned and twisted. What was more, the guardian had managed to modify his trajectory to hit it on the side of the head. Apparently, that turned out to be a weak spot, causing the dragonlet to lose its balance mid-flight, then swoop down, almost crashing into the ground. The only reason it didn’t was because two of the other creatures swooped in its direction, stabilizing it before it could happen.
“Five against one isn’t exactly fair,” Dallion shouted, filling his words with spite. If the dragons were filled with pride, this was what he’d focus on. “Should I wait for the other two to show up?”
Shut up, music user! a female dragonlet hissed. You’re the one using constant healing!
“Your father didn’t seem to have a problem with that.”
Dallion re-summoned the hammer to his hand. The mishap of the dragon in question had messed up their overall pattern. Picking a new target, Dallion threw it again. This time, though, the dragonlet in question turned around, closing its wings in front of it like a shield.
They’re quick learners, Dallion thought.
Powerful creatures always are, Nil said. Not to mention that they are awakened. Don’t let their size fool you. These pups are as vicious as they come.
I thought you hadn’t seen dragons.
Just because I haven’t seen something doesn’t mean I don’t know about it, the old echo grumbled. I thought the library ring would have taught you that by now.
Point taken.
Dallion summoned his harpsisword. The hammer was a nice touch, but it wasn’t going to cut it. Even the damage it caused was insignificant.
The dragonlets readjusted, returning to a circling pattern around Dallion. Now that the initial shock of the encounter was over, Dallion could do what he was supposed to do at the start of any battle—observe, gather information, and form a strategy. After another minute of evasions and blocks, things slowly started getting into place.
The way they behaved, it was obvious that the dragonlets had quite high reaction and perception traits. They were extremely quick to react and only surprised when things didn’t behave as they expected. Furthermore, Dallion was almost certain that they had advanced athletic skills. Attack was also a given, and possibly guard. However, it didn’t seem they were capable of anything else yet. Line attacks and combat splitting weren’t used, and while they were able to notice Dallion use music, they didn’t do so in turn.
I’m fighting semis, Dallion thought. Or at the very least single-digits. True, they probably had unique dragons skills to balance the odds, but still.
Preconceptions are a powerful enemy, dear boy, Nil said.
Dallion remained silent, even if he knew that the echo was just as surprised. The explosion of fear emanating from the echo had been felt throughout an entire section of Dallion’s realm.
Pesky whelps! Gleam grumbled. Due to the difference in reaction levels, she had become little more than a flying nuisance. The speed which had impressed Dallion so much in the past wasn’t enough even to scratch a single dragonlet. To make matters worse, the creatures had noticed that and started openly mocking her by deliberately letting the whip blade approach before evading her attacks.
“Come back here, Gleam,” Dallion said out loud. “They’re nothing much. I’ll deal with them on my own.”
Blue blobs of anger appeared within the dragonlets upon hearing those words—just a few in some of them, whole clusters in others. Despite that, none broke the pattern.
So, you aren’t reckless, are you?
Be on guard, Harp said. They’re not done.
“Harp?” Dallion asked, surprised. “What—”
Before he could continue, he felt a powerful combat split. A swap of dragonlets came from beneath, all flying at him at great speed. Immediately, Dallion countered, bursting in dozens of instances of his own.
In the course of a single second, twenty dragonlets engaged in battle against forty Dallions. In most of the instances, Dallion managed to evade the attack, or even strike back, dealing moderate damage. However, in a few he was the one wounded as the dragonlet clipped him with the side of its wing. Normally, Dallion would have chosen an instance that was best suitable for him. However, on this occasion, he found himself pulled into the worst outcome of all.
“Instance pulling?” he asked, spinning around while performing a series of piercing strikes.
Two sets of red rectangles appeared.
Nice! one of the dragonlets said, complimenting its sibling. You almost got him!
Claw him in two! Another joined in.
“So, you’re the hidden star,” Dallion said, looking at the sixth dragonlet. “Are you a double digit?”
Wouldn’t you like to know? the dragonlet laughed.
Its skin was a deep emerald green, slightly darker than the rest, partly covered with paper-thin scales. In the real-world Dallion would have assumed that it would be a few years older. Given that this was an awakened realm, it was more likely that appearance was affected by skill alone.
Dad seems to have a very high opinion of you, it went on. No idea why. You’re nothing special.
Dallion concentrated, expecting subtle music threads to be included in the trash talk. To his relief, there didn’t seem to be any. That was one thing he didn’t have to worry about, for now at least.
“I’m still standing.” Dallion burst into instances, then threw his harpsisword at the dragonlet in each one.
To no surprise, the dragon burst into instances again, choosing the one more beneficial for it to become reality.
“Nice trick. You know it has a counter, right?”
As if! The dragonlet snorted, but Dallion felt its concern. Like the older dragon, it probably knew when something was a lie.
“Let’s end the fight and I’ll teach you.”
Hesitation blossomed within the creature, followed by internal conflict. As any young overachiever, it wanted to improve. Knowing a counter to what most likely appeared to be its greatest skill was tempting beyond belief. At the same time, it didn’t want to appear weak in front of its siblings, and especially its father.
“The ability to break down enemy instances and make them disappear,” Dallion said.
Don’t listen to him! one of the other dragonlets shouted. You got this!
Yeah, he’s a music user! Just slice him up!
“How many magic users have you fought?” Dallion asked.
Lots! one of the dragonlets soaring around shouted. Anyone was able to tell it was a clear lie.
Two, the emerald dragonlet said. It, at least, was realistic.
“And how many of them did you defeat?”
The lack of answer told Dallion everything he needed to know.
You sly old dragon, he thought. You’re using me to train your kids, aren’t you? All this charade making me think I’m facing a death match, and instead you just volunteered me to be their tutor. You could have just asked!
Without a doubt, dragon pride was a major factor in play. If there was one clear weakness the race had, that seemed to be it. Katka must have taken full advantage of the fact during her battle against Armalion. The mage was nothing if not manipulative.
“I can teach all of you,” Dallion said, louder. “Not only that, but other things as well. You have a good foundation, and your combined tactics are not bad, but you lack a lot on an individual level.”
Dear boy… Nil took a breath so deep, Dallion thought he had exhausted all the air in his domain. There are some things you simply cannot claim, and being a teacher is one of them.
Thankfully, the dragonlets didn’t seem to be of the same opinion. Largely silent, then moved closer, halving the distance at which they circled around Dallion.
Just like children, Dallion thought. In fact, then reminded him of his first team he was with in the icepicker guild. They too had been children awakened at a young age with powerful parents. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from them as well?
“Well?” Dallion asked.
Show me, the emerald dragonlet replied. Then I’ll think about it.
“Sure.” Dallion summoned his dartbow.
You’re fighting with that? a dragonlet chuckled.
That’s useless against splitting, the emerald creature replied.
“What better way to prove my claim?”
In truth, this was the only ranged weapon that Dallion knew would do the trick. As he was, there was no chance of him getting close enough to deal actual damage. A dartbow was the only option. That or his recently created shotgun, but he didn’t want to harm the dragonlet to such an extent. A dartbow bolt would be more than enough.
You don’t have to do this, a female dragonlet said. It’s probably just a trick.
In response, the emerald creature split into thirty instances. Dallion could tell that it was a double digit, although definitely not a seer. More likely, it had been born with the knack of creating instances, just like Vend had. That made things easier.
Keep me here, Lux, Dallion said. And get ready for a sudden thrust.
Yep! Yep! the firebird replied. But you get sick when I do that.
It’ll be fine. It was worth getting a bit of nausea, if it would help him prove his point.
A second passed in complete silence, then all instances of the emerald dragonet charged right at him. Every fiber in Dallion’s body urged him to react. At the same time, his mind had the clarity to keep him perfectly still.
Even with the creature’s speed, it took several seconds for it to reach Dallion—longer than the dragonlet was able to maintain the instances. Just before any instant could strike Dallion, all but one of them disappeared. As Dallion suspected, his opponent had chosen to pick an instance that was further away, making sure to remain out of reach before a second split. This was precisely what he had been waiting for.
Now, Lux! Dallion said.
The firebird propelled him forward.
Time seemed to slow down. Two dozen new instances emerged, moving away from the emerald dragonlet like fragments flying away from the center of an explosion. At this precise moment, Dallion aimed at the creature’s body from almost point blank range and released a bolt.
A red rectangle emerged, reducing the dragonlet’s remaining health to about fifty percent. Yet, that was not all. In a flash, all of its instances faded away, like soap bubbles popping in the sun.
No one said a word.
“Convinced?” Dallion asked, still aiming the dartbow at the dragonlet.
How did you do that? it asked.
“Let’s stop the fight and I’ll tell you.”
… I can’t do that.
That was a surprise. It didn’t change things too much, since at this range Dallion had every chance of winning outright, but there was something in the creature’s words that suggested that it wasn’t its decision.
“You’re just the sixth.” Dallion lowered his weapon. “You might be a star, but you’re not the strongest one, are you?”
The dragonlet flapped its massive wings, moving ten feet back. It had turned its head away from Dallion in shame.
“Where’s the seventh?” Dallion split into instances, looking in all directions.
Beneath you, Gleam said. Cheeky thing can do illusions.
“Of course it would.” Dallion sighed. “Someone has inherited all of daddy’s skills…”
Anyone born on Earth had certain expectations when it came to fighting dragons. In all forms of popular media since antiquity, they were depicted as clashes between heroes of steel and creatures of unimaginable strength. Fighting even one of them was on the verge of what was humanly possible, requiring top skills and gear. Dallion had seen that firsthand in the moments he’d faced the dragonlets. He knew that it would require a strategy to fight them. What he didn’t expect was that he’d get to hear a dragonlet cursing after he hit one on the head with his hammer.
Onda had done a good job following the creature as it turned and twisted. What was more, the guardian had managed to modify his trajectory to hit it on the side of the head. Apparently, that turned out to be a weak spot, causing the dragonlet to lose its balance mid-flight, then swoop down, almost crashing into the ground. The only reason it didn’t was because two of the other creatures swooped in its direction, stabilizing it before it could happen.
“Five against one isn’t exactly fair,” Dallion shouted, filling his words with spite. If the dragons were filled with pride, this was what he’d focus on. “Should I wait for the other two to show up?”
Shut up, music user! a female dragonlet hissed. You’re the one using constant healing!
“Your father didn’t seem to have a problem with that.”
Dallion re-summoned the hammer to his hand. The mishap of the dragon in question had messed up their overall pattern. Picking a new target, Dallion threw it again. This time, though, the dragonlet in question turned around, closing its wings in front of it like a shield.
They’re quick learners, Dallion thought.
Powerful creatures always are, Nil said. Not to mention that they are awakened. Don’t let their size fool you. These pups are as vicious as they come.
I thought you hadn’t seen dragons.
Just because I haven’t seen something doesn’t mean I don’t know about it, the old echo grumbled. I thought the library ring would have taught you that by now.
Point taken.
Dallion summoned his harpsisword. The hammer was a nice touch, but it wasn’t going to cut it. Even the damage it caused was insignificant.
The dragonlets readjusted, returning to a circling pattern around Dallion. Now that the initial shock of the encounter was over, Dallion could do what he was supposed to do at the start of any battle—observe, gather information, and form a strategy. After another minute of evasions and blocks, things slowly started getting into place.
The way they behaved, it was obvious that the dragonlets had quite high reaction and perception traits. They were extremely quick to react and only surprised when things didn’t behave as they expected. Furthermore, Dallion was almost certain that they had advanced athletic skills. Attack was also a given, and possibly guard. However, it didn’t seem they were capable of anything else yet. Line attacks and combat splitting weren’t used, and while they were able to notice Dallion use music, they didn’t do so in turn.
I’m fighting semis, Dallion thought. Or at the very least single-digits. True, they probably had unique dragons skills to balance the odds, but still.
Preconceptions are a powerful enemy, dear boy, Nil said.
Dallion remained silent, even if he knew that the echo was just as surprised. The explosion of fear emanating from the echo had been felt throughout an entire section of Dallion’s realm.
Pesky whelps! Gleam grumbled. Due to the difference in reaction levels, she had become little more than a flying nuisance. The speed which had impressed Dallion so much in the past wasn’t enough even to scratch a single dragonlet. To make matters worse, the creatures had noticed that and started openly mocking her by deliberately letting the whip blade approach before evading her attacks.
“Come back here, Gleam,” Dallion said out loud. “They’re nothing much. I’ll deal with them on my own.”
Blue blobs of anger appeared within the dragonlets upon hearing those words—just a few in some of them, whole clusters in others. Despite that, none broke the pattern.
So, you aren’t reckless, are you?
Be on guard, Harp said. They’re not done.
“Harp?” Dallion asked, surprised. “What—”
Before he could continue, he felt a powerful combat split. A swap of dragonlets came from beneath, all flying at him at great speed. Immediately, Dallion countered, bursting in dozens of instances of his own.
In the course of a single second, twenty dragonlets engaged in battle against forty Dallions. In most of the instances, Dallion managed to evade the attack, or even strike back, dealing moderate damage. However, in a few he was the one wounded as the dragonlet clipped him with the side of its wing. Normally, Dallion would have chosen an instance that was best suitable for him. However, on this occasion, he found himself pulled into the worst outcome of all.
“Instance pulling?” he asked, spinning around while performing a series of piercing strikes.
Two sets of red rectangles appeared.
Nice! one of the dragonlets said, complimenting its sibling. You almost got him!
Claw him in two! Another joined in.
“So, you’re the hidden star,” Dallion said, looking at the sixth dragonlet. “Are you a double digit?”
Wouldn’t you like to know? the dragonlet laughed.
Its skin was a deep emerald green, slightly darker than the rest, partly covered with paper-thin scales. In the real-world Dallion would have assumed that it would be a few years older. Given that this was an awakened realm, it was more likely that appearance was affected by skill alone.
Dad seems to have a very high opinion of you, it went on. No idea why. You’re nothing special.
Dallion concentrated, expecting subtle music threads to be included in the trash talk. To his relief, there didn’t seem to be any. That was one thing he didn’t have to worry about, for now at least.
“I’m still standing.” Dallion burst into instances, then threw his harpsisword at the dragonlet in each one.
To no surprise, the dragon burst into instances again, choosing the one more beneficial for it to become reality.
“Nice trick. You know it has a counter, right?”
As if! The dragonlet snorted, but Dallion felt its concern. Like the older dragon, it probably knew when something was a lie.
“Let’s end the fight and I’ll teach you.”
Hesitation blossomed within the creature, followed by internal conflict. As any young overachiever, it wanted to improve. Knowing a counter to what most likely appeared to be its greatest skill was tempting beyond belief. At the same time, it didn’t want to appear weak in front of its siblings, and especially its father.
“The ability to break down enemy instances and make them disappear,” Dallion said.
Don’t listen to him! one of the other dragonlets shouted. You got this!
Yeah, he’s a music user! Just slice him up!
“How many magic users have you fought?” Dallion asked.
Lots! one of the dragonlets soaring around shouted. Anyone was able to tell it was a clear lie.
Two, the emerald dragonlet said. It, at least, was realistic.
“And how many of them did you defeat?”
The lack of answer told Dallion everything he needed to know.
You sly old dragon, he thought. You’re using me to train your kids, aren’t you? All this charade making me think I’m facing a death match, and instead you just volunteered me to be their tutor. You could have just asked!
Without a doubt, dragon pride was a major factor in play. If there was one clear weakness the race had, that seemed to be it. Katka must have taken full advantage of the fact during her battle against Armalion. The mage was nothing if not manipulative.
“I can teach all of you,” Dallion said, louder. “Not only that, but other things as well. You have a good foundation, and your combined tactics are not bad, but you lack a lot on an individual level.”
Dear boy… Nil took a breath so deep, Dallion thought he had exhausted all the air in his domain. There are some things you simply cannot claim, and being a teacher is one of them.
Thankfully, the dragonlets didn’t seem to be of the same opinion. Largely silent, then moved closer, halving the distance at which they circled around Dallion.
Just like children, Dallion thought. In fact, then reminded him of his first team he was with in the icepicker guild. They too had been children awakened at a young age with powerful parents. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from them as well?
“Well?” Dallion asked.
Show me, the emerald dragonlet replied. Then I’ll think about it.
“Sure.” Dallion summoned his dartbow.
You’re fighting with that? a dragonlet chuckled.
That’s useless against splitting, the emerald creature replied.
“What better way to prove my claim?”
In truth, this was the only ranged weapon that Dallion knew would do the trick. As he was, there was no chance of him getting close enough to deal actual damage. A dartbow was the only option. That or his recently created shotgun, but he didn’t want to harm the dragonlet to such an extent. A dartbow bolt would be more than enough.
You don’t have to do this, a female dragonlet said. It’s probably just a trick.
In response, the emerald creature split into thirty instances. Dallion could tell that it was a double digit, although definitely not a seer. More likely, it had been born with the knack of creating instances, just like Vend had. That made things easier.
Keep me here, Lux, Dallion said. And get ready for a sudden thrust.
Yep! Yep! the firebird replied. But you get sick when I do that.
It’ll be fine. It was worth getting a bit of nausea, if it would help him prove his point.
A second passed in complete silence, then all instances of the emerald dragonet charged right at him. Every fiber in Dallion’s body urged him to react. At the same time, his mind had the clarity to keep him perfectly still.
Even with the creature’s speed, it took several seconds for it to reach Dallion—longer than the dragonlet was able to maintain the instances. Just before any instant could strike Dallion, all but one of them disappeared. As Dallion suspected, his opponent had chosen to pick an instance that was further away, making sure to remain out of reach before a second split. This was precisely what he had been waiting for.
Now, Lux! Dallion said.
The firebird propelled him forward.
Time seemed to slow down. Two dozen new instances emerged, moving away from the emerald dragonlet like fragments flying away from the center of an explosion. At this precise moment, Dallion aimed at the creature’s body from almost point blank range and released a bolt.
A red rectangle emerged, reducing the dragonlet’s remaining health to about fifty percent. Yet, that was not all. In a flash, all of its instances faded away, like soap bubbles popping in the sun.
No one said a word.
“Convinced?” Dallion asked, still aiming the dartbow at the dragonlet.
How did you do that? it asked.
“Let’s stop the fight and I’ll tell you.”
… I can’t do that.
That was a surprise. It didn’t change things too much, since at this range Dallion had every chance of winning outright, but there was something in the creature’s words that suggested that it wasn’t its decision.
“You’re just the sixth.” Dallion lowered his weapon. “You might be a star, but you’re not the strongest one, are you?”
The dragonlet flapped its massive wings, moving ten feet back. It had turned its head away from Dallion in shame.
“Where’s the seventh?” Dallion split into instances, looking in all directions.
Beneath you, Gleam said. Cheeky thing can do illusions.
“Of course it would.” Dallion sighed. “Someone has inherited all of daddy’s skills…”
