When the Marchioness invites Victor to her apartment for a private breakfast, Victor expects everything but a real breakfast. It could have been a poisoned meal, or made for breakfast, or fed to lions. It was an unpleasant breakfast with the hostess and the Count de Provence.
Sure, she had four knights ready to chop off his head, and a few catkins butlers, but he was grateful for the meal. It had been a while since he had eaten beef and boiled vegetables with a fork.
Thankfully, he didn't taste any poison. He guessed that yesterday's fiasco had taught them a lesson.
"This is so disgraceful," said the Marchioness, lounging on an ermine chair, stroking a winged lion with one hand and sipping a glass of wine with the other. Victor guessed she had had more than a few drinks. "A red dragon emptied our pantry and then decided to take a nap at my front door. Why would the gods bring about such a disaster? Is he still there?"
"Yes, ma'am," answered a knight in full armor, glancing through the window. "He was lying on his back with a hand on his stomach. The poison had killed him three times so far."
"Why did you have so much poison in your hands in the first place?" Victor asked, he was too curious.
"The intense politics of war," replied the Marchioness, without further explanation, shifting uneasily in her chair. "I can't take it anymore! Someone dress me up!"
One of the catkins, a thin humanoid cat in a butler's uniform, pawed behind the Marchioness's ears to comfort her. "Is it Victor?" she asked him suddenly. "What's your level?"
"I'm level 7, ma'am." Outlaw has 5 levels, Mo
ste
Squi
e has 2 levels.
"Level 7 dragon training?" She mocked him resentfully. "I do not believe you."
"Do you think I look like a dragon tamer?" Victor also sneered.
"He listens to you," said the Comte de Provence, wiping away the sweat with a wet handkerchief. "You saved my life."
"Listen" is a bit of an exaggeration. That guy was a damn wrecking ball and all I could do was try to steer it in a direction and hope it didn't burn down too many houses. "
"We could launch a surprise attack while he sleeps," one guard suggested.
"Yeah, right, try to kill that invincible dragon that ignores arrows and thinks your best poison is pepper. Maybe you'll give him better treatment this time." When he attracted the attention of the nobles and guards Victor cursed his tongue as he glared. When he noticed that Winkle couldn't understand sarcasm, the adventurer couldn't hold it in any longer. This will help reduce the stress of dealing with maggots.
"Talk to your superior in a different tone, you scoundrel!" one of the guards shouted, barely restraining himself and hitting him in the face with an iron glove. His mistress gave him only one look and interrupted him.
"Where are you from?" the Marchioness asked Victor. "Your accent is not Gadmanian. It sounds a bit like Prydanian."
Her tone told Victor that this was not a good thing worth showing off. The Prydenformers shed much blood in their attempts to conquer Gadmani, and their "Wild Hunt" still attacks ships approaching their island. "I'm from America," Vic admitted, then added, "Earth."
"A claim." The Marquise nodded. "Give me."
Victor pulls back the sleeve on his left arm to reveal a red, glittering tattoo representing a twenty-sided die. "The mark of the dice," the Marchioness recognized. "I should have known that only the chosen ones of Luck can be friends with dragons."
Some luck. The world sucks. It's full of bandits, man-eating monsters, dragons, oh, it's still stuck in the Middle Ages! He hasn't been able to take a hot bath in months! All because he saved a girl he liked from being robbed, Instead, he was stabbed and left bleeding in the alley. If dying wasn't painful enough, being forced to join a group of outlaws in order to survive is equally painful.
But he understood where it came from. It is well known that people on Earth are reincarnated into Overmund after being marked by their local gods, and most have unique privileges that allow them to create lives for themselves. This phenomenon even led to the rise of a new religion, the Mystical Order of the New World.
But Victor doesn't care about being a hero or a local curiosity. All he wanted to do was survive, get laid, and go home.
Likewise, friends? If he could, Victor would have run away. Unfortunately, the dragon may soon find him, the beast has keen senses. "Look, ma'am, I'll try to lure him off your land, but I can't promise anything. Stop stealing from him, okay?"
"Madam, why did you want this sword in the first place?" asked the Count of Provence.
"It is a family heirloom," replied the Marchioness. "According to legend, my ancestor befriended a Manling adventurer and tricked a Gadmani king into giving his daughter's hand to the boy. As a reward, Manling gave his precious The sword and the title of Marquis of Calabasas were given to my ancestors. Catkins have ruled Calabasas ever since."
This explains why there are cats running around.
"During the War of the Century, looters stole that sword from my great-grandfather's body, but I had no idea it ended up in the clutches of a red dragon," the Marchioness said as a maid filled her cup liquor. "I don't know anyone who has defiled this country, let alone Vaik Nightbane."
"Is he famous?" Victor asked, eager to know more about the maggot.
"He was the bane of Midgard for centuries and disappeared fifty years ago," said the Count of Provence. "Legend has it that he single-handedly fought a level 67 elf knight"
As far as Victor knows, only the legendary Shining Knight can reach this level. This means that dragons are invincible. "Yeah, now he's passed two levels of Noble."
The Marchioness and the Count exchanged worried glances. After all, like most nobles, they probably had a rank in this class. "Red dragons should not approach the rogue class," said the Marchioness. "How did this happen?"
Victor wisely decided not to mention his responsibility. "Don't know. He was already like this when I found him. Now he's determined to become an adventurer because the job pays well and is easy for him. Look at this forest."
One of the knights said: "The monsters of Gevaudan have plagued this area for many years, especially during the chaos of the Century War." "Destroying the entire area in a matter of minutes..."
Luis de Carabas nodded. "While the loss of my pantry is devastating, the financial gain does outweigh it. We might as well tap into the dragon's imagination right now. If he wants to be an adventurer, we can have him do something silly Errand."
"My lady, you are not serious!" retorted the count. "A dragon adventurer?" What else, a troll prince?"
"This guy's kidding us," one guard agreed, clenching his fists. "How long will it take for its natural instincts to return?"
"We could present him with a doomed request, such as an attack on House Fermor of Prydain or the demon lord Brandon Moore." The Marquise ignored her advisors while her housekeepers busied themselves with grooming her . "He either succeeds and does some good in the world, or he fails and gets killed."
"Well, lizards won't move unless there's a big reward," Victor said, although the idea had merit. If the dragon is willing to fight other monsters for money, then maybe he can guide him toward a better goal. "If he succeeds, you better be ready to deliver."
The Marchioness frowned, probably because she didn't have enough money to appease Winkle. "It doesn't matter," said the Marchioness. "The wizards in my court have sent a message to His Majesty King Charles Gadmani and the Flash Knight, and they will send their best warriors after him. As word spreads, this dragon's days are numbered."
Victor doubted how much they would accomplish. Fankle's last name was Knightsbane, after all.
But what was he supposed to do? Lure Vankel to his death and hope he got lucky? His gut told him that wasn't going to work. No, Victor is now haunted by the dragon, and from what he's seen, he'd rather work with the dragon than against it.
The adventurer decided that the best thing to do was to use the dragon's imagination, as the Marchioness suggested. Even though the war is over, the Kingdom of Gadmani is still plagued by troublemakers who seek to kill now rather than retreat to the distant island of Formore.
He might also make a ton of money from this mess. He spent months working his way up through the Outlaw classes, moving up two levels in less than a day. Killing opponents that are too powerful for him to handle next to the dragon helps him level up faster. If he reaches a high enough level in guiding and studying dragons at close quarters, maybe one day Victor can escape his control.
"Is there any troublemaker who needs to be burned by dragon fire?" Victor asked, catching his eye. "It's a gamble, but if I target him at a dangerous enemy, maybe someone will be lucky enough to kill him." Kill him."
The greedy Fankel would never let him polish anything, but if he managed to snag a noble title or magic item...
"The main threats to the peace of Gadmani are the bandits and mercenaries who have rampaged across the countryside since the end of the Century War," said the count. "The ogres Ogeron, Gustave la Moulaye and Fran Gangs led by Sowa Verman and others are causing trouble in the Southwest. Duchess Eleanor is offering a reward for their heads."
"They are no match for the dragon, Gilbert," said the Marchioness. "Even Ogren is only around level 35, and while the Duchess has put a bounty on the leader of the Scorchers, their status is low. Will they inspire a dragon?"
"Do you have a bounty on your hands?" Victor guessed that he would only guide Winkle to find the sea monster. Considering the reward, he had no problem convincing the dragon. But it never hurts to look at other options.
"Minion?" Victor winced as Winkle's voice made the walls tremble. "Minion?! Minion!"
Vic sighed. Responsibility. "Do you have a big bag?" he asked the nobles. "How about some more fire resistance potion?"
"Didn't you ask enough?!" A knight scolded him, and the winged lion roared at him.
"Otherwise, I'll tell him there's a hidden pantry under your tower," Victor replied angrily. "your choice."
The Marchioness waved her hand in annoyance. "Get him whatever he wants, as long as they leave."
Victor thought there were benefits to taking care of a dragon.
