Lich for Hire

Chapter 128: A Legendary Dragon

As Geronimo tore the warlock's head from his shoulders, the sinister shadow in the sky finally broke into a satisfied smile.

A whelp might be young, but it still possessed the courage of dragonkind.

The moment Geronimo abandoned one of his wings and staked everything on a desperate charge, the Dragon Queen was certain that this little dragon was worth cultivating.

Abraham Torres's soul was crushed beneath the goddess's will, shattered into countless crimson motes that poured into Geronimo's body. His memories, emotions, and experiences all fused into the half-dragon youth. A warlock standing one step from legend had become nothing more than Geronimo's nourishment.

At the same time, every remaining scrap of flesh across the plaza melted away, converging into a blood-red vortex that surged into Geronimo's body.

His form mutated yet again. What had once been human features crowned by a pair of horns had now been reshaped entirely into a draconic head. He grew taller, his body larger, and his severed wing even broader than before.

The crisscrossing mouths that once riddled his body vanished, dissolving into dark patterns that melded seamlessly with his scales.

Geronimo let out a roar so powerful the very air rippled.

A voice descended from the heavens. "I have granted you legendary power."

Geronimo lowered his gaze to his fully transformed body and exclaimed in awe, "Am I a true dragon now?"

"Not even close," Tiamat replied coldly. "You are weaker than the feeblest dragon. Worse still, you cannot bear the power I have given you. Your body will collapse in a short time unless you grow and learn to command this strength before death claims you."

Despite hearing that his death was nigh, Geronimo did not panic. "How may I grow?"

"Do whatever you wish. You wanted to become a dragon, so I have given you a chance. Reborn through my blood, the flesh you devour will become the strongest scales to protect you. As a dragon, survive on this continent that hunts dragons. I will offer no further aid save to await your soul in Hell."

With those words, the shadow in the sky vanished.

Even that single drop of divine blood had exhausted the goddess. She no longer had the strength to watch over this young dragon.

Sensing her departure, Geronimo was left without guidance and forced to plan his future alone. He did not yet understand the true value of Tiamat's blood. Though she was only a lesser Lord of Hell, she was a five-headed dragon, matriarch of her race. Her draconic powers eclipsed even divine might, and few greater gods would dare claim certain victory against her.

Even a single drop of her blood would have been a priceless treasure to lesser evil gods.

"Survive on this continent as a dragon?"

Geronimo flexed his right hand. Crimson energy gathered in his palm, erupting in three violent bursts that reduced the nearest tower to dust.

"Spellcasting... interesting."

By devouring Abraham Torres's soul, Geronimo had inherited not only his memories but also his spellcasting ability as a warlock. And with Tiamat's blessing, his magic surpassed that of his predecessor.

After confirming his newfound power, Geronimo beat his wings and flew to the edge of the plaza.

A handful of slaves had survived the chaos, fewer than thirty in total.

Hovering above them, Geronimo asked, "Do you want to live?"

Fear gripped them. After witnessing the half-dragon's brutality, none dared respond.

"Too scared?" Geronimo said flatly. "Then I'll assume you don't."

He raised his right hand. Eldritch energy began to gather.

At last, someone screamed through terror, "I want to live! Please spare me!"

Once one spoke up, the rest followed, crying out in desperation.

Geronimo addressed them coldly. "If you want to live, rely on yourselves. No one will save you. No one will pity you. Drink my dragon blood, then slaughter each other. Only the strongest will survive."

He slashed his palm open with a claw, and scalding dragon blood rained down.

The blood caused exposed skin to smoke on contact. It burned like acid.

"Running means death," Geronimo roared. "If you won't fight for your lives, then none of you deserve to live. Only you can save yourselves. Kill the others. Devour their flesh, or you will all die!"

Whether from the dragon blood or the hypnotic power of his voice, panic finally gave way to slaughter.

Unarmed, the slaves attacked each other with teeth and fists, tearing into one another in the most savage, blood-soaked manner imaginable.

In the end, only four remained standing, barely. Their bodies were mangled and soaked in gore, their mouths stained from devouring human flesh. Fine scales crept across their skin, and their nails sharpened into claws.

As they prepared to continue fighting, Geronimo spoke with satisfaction. "Enough. From now on, you are mine. Follow me, and together we will rule this continent."

The four mutated half-dragons roared in exhilaration, their voices no longer human.

Geronimo led his new servants toward Castle Cerberus.

With Abraham Torres's memories, he knew exactly where the family's treasures lay.

Besides, none of them were full yet.

Without Abraham Torres, the family was utterly defenseless. Geronimo, now a legend, tore through plate armor with ease, his warlock magic laying waste to all resistance. Before long, the castle ran red with blood.

Geronimo showed no mercy. He was no longer human; he looked upon people as one would ants.

The patriarch of the House of Cerberus fell to his knees, begging frantically. "I was wrong! Please, for the sake of our shared master, spare me! I will devote my entire family to serving you. I can be useful! Please, give me another chance!"

"Wrong?" Geronimo replied calmly. "It's simply the way of the jungle. Slaves exist to be sacrificed. When nobles slaughter slaves, they are merely disposing of their property. What sin is there in that?"

The patriarch stared up at him in disbelief.

"Then... you weren't angry about what happened to you?"

Geronimo shook his head. "Of course not. I was never angry."

"Then why...?"

"Why?" Geronimo laughed mockingly. "Why would you think that a dragon would eat humans out of anger? I eat because I am hungry."

A dragon claw pierced the man's chest, ripping his heart free. The last member of the house died in despair.

Geronimo devoured the heart in one bite, yet felt unsatisfied.

Though this body was powerful, each use of its strength increased the burden upon him, as if he were unworthy of the legendary power he wielded.

Wiping the blood from his mouth, Geronimo muttered, "This flesh isn't enough. To grow, I must devour the flesh of the strong."

......

As Ambrose finished exterminating the scattered dretches, he felt fate stir.

The suffering he had woven for the House of Cerberus seemed to have come to pass.

Though he knew nothing of specific details, Ambrose was certain they had all perished in despair and resentment. Not even a dog would have been alive.

"It's only been two days. Does fate really act so quickly?"

He had underestimated the legendary power of the Loom of Fate. Its effect was terrifyingly swift.

But the Goddess of Fate was a master manipulator. Power like this could not be used recklessly. This trial was enough to understand its effect.

Ambrose captured several dretches and interrogated them, extracting what little information he could.

They confirmed that they were from the first layer of Hell, but he could extract nothing else. Weak creatures like these were driven into the mortal world like livestock whenever a Hellgate opened, unleashed to slaughter by instinct alone.

They were nothing more than expendable fodder.

Still, Ambrose learned one crucial thing: there was more than one Hellgate.

At least two more existed in addition to the one used to ambush the elves. Worse, Hellgates could be moved when inactive. The Lords of Hell delighted in opening a gate, unleashing monsters, then relocating it elsewhere. Tracking them was notoriously difficult.

Ambrose discussed the matter with the dwarves. Hoffmann Ironfist remained calm.

"Hell incursions happen every few years. Some lunatics always play guides for the Lords of Hell. Every nation has experience dealing with it. Find the cultists, destroy the gates, and it'll be over."

"The problem," he continued, "is that Alkhemia is in open conflict. No one can unite the forces needed to deal with this properly."

"We must start peace talks as soon as possible," Hoffmann said. "Once the new borders are set, we'll have the legitimacy to handle the infernal incursion."

Ambrose nodded. This could not be delayed. Otherwise, the Mistress of Pain would feast too well.

He wondered how things were going between Lady Rose and Catherine. Hopefully the Undead Queen could withstand the Elven Queen's charm.

With that hope, Ambrose hurried back to the castle.

The two queens were still seated as before, though the tea cups lay empty and their expressions had grown... rather abnormal.

Lady Rose wore an expression of sympathy and pity.

And Catherine... looked as though she had been crying. Her eyes were red, and tear tracks still visible on her face.

Ambrose: "..."

This was supposed to be a business negotiation. What on earth had they been talking about?

Seeing Ambrose return, Catherine quickly wiped her tears, her face flushing with embarrassment. To be fair, the sight was devastatingly beautiful. Any human witnessing it might have lost their sanity on the spot.

Lady Rose hurried over and pulled Ambrose outside, sparing Catherine further awkwardness.

Ambrose could not help asking, "Lady Rose, what's going on?"

"Nothing much," she said gently. "We just had a heart-to-heart. You know, there are only two queens on this continent. The pressure we carry is something men can't imagine."

Ambrose: "..."

Had Lady Rose defected too? Could even the undead fall to Catherine's charm?

Sensing his thoughts, Black Rose laughed. "Relax. Everything you wanted has already been settled."

Ambrose's eyes lit up. "Really? She accepted my price?"

"More than that," Black Rose said, handing him a contract. "Take a look."

Ambrose examined it closely, then froze. Several seconds passed before he exclaimed in shock, "This... this much? We've practically emptied the elves' entire treasury!"