The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons

Book 6



Book 6: Chapter 192

“Hey!” Sir Selddup said, drool flowing freely from his mouth as he panted. The translucent birds underneath his feet were blurry from how fast their wings were flapping. “I know it looks like I’m not the one using energy to escape, but these birds are a part of my skill. When they get tired, I get tired.”


Ashley didn’t bother meeting her aggrieved dog’s gaze as she sat on his back and shot the massive insects following after them. “Why are you telling me something I already know?” she asked with a grimace, her voice barely audible over her hail of bullets. “I’m trying to concentrate.”


“I’m telling you because I’m getting tired as heck!” Sir Selddup said and barked. “How much longer do we have to run from these insects? Didn’t you send the signal to Tafel? How come she hasn’t opened a portal for us yet?”


“Magic involving time and space must be complicated,” Ashley said. “If it were easy, more people would be using it. I’m sure she’s trying her best to open the path for us; all you have to do is keep running.” The Light Lord’s root bracelet flashed amber, and she withdrew a glass bottle filled with a blue liquid. She gulped the contents down before tossing the empty bottle away, not caring where it landed; after all, everything below her was insect anyway. “Didn’t you like running? You always nagged me to go to the park.”


“I like running after things, not away from them!” Sir Selddup said, his voice snappy. The root bracelet around his ankle flashed, and a bottle with orange liquid appeared near Sir Selddup’s head. He chomped on the bottle and drank its contents before spitting out the glass. “Are we going to be reimbursed for our potion usage?”


Ashley furrowed her brows. “Be quiet, go faster, and stop moving so much. You’re throwing off my shots.”


“How about you aim better?” Sir Selddup snarled as he increased his speed and kept his waist steady. Luckily, he didn’t have to move his legs to travel since the birds were doing all the work.


***


Tafel sat next to Lindyss with a bowl of seared bear strips resting on her lap. In front of the two, there was a large, circular portal. On the other side of the portal, there was a bird’s-eye view of the phoenix tower’s seventieth floor. Several meters behind Tafel, Jeffery was sitting on a branch with an egg and a pupa held underneath his arms, one by each armpit. The egg flashed as Garlic spoke. “This is what I’m talking about! None of my ancestors ever got such a good and safe seat to a clash between dragons and phoenixes.”


Tafel turned her head to glance at Garlic before shifting her gaze back onto the portal. She picked up a strip of bear meat and placed it into her mouth before offering a piece to Lindyss. The cursed elf absentmindedly grabbed it and stuck it into her mouth. “Vur’s too strong,” Lindyss said and furrowed her brow. “This isn’t right.”


“What do you mean?” Tafel asked.


“These dragons and phoenixes have been fighting each other for centuries,” Lindyss said. “They should have abundant amounts of combat experience, but they’re acting like civilians.” She gestured towards the portal with her hand. “Have you ever seen the difference between a trained army and a militia? Vur’s like a hardened mercenary amongst a field of newbs.”


Tafel tilted her head. “Maybe the dragons and phoenixes didn’t clash that much,” she said. Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, or maybe they’re not used to fighting someone who’s stronger than them since they’ve been equally matched this whole time.” Tafel nodded before eating another piece of bear meat. She shrugged. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter why as long as Vur wins, right?”


Lindyss nodded. “I’ll admit it’s satisfying seeing dragons and phoenixes getting tossed around like this. It’s not every day you see a dragon get thrown by its neck like a chicken.”


Tafel turned her head towards Lindyss and raised an eyebrow. “You throw chickens by their necks?”


“It’s a saying,” Lindyss said.


“Said by whom?” Tafel asked. “A psychopath?”


***josei


Vur took in a deep breath through his nostrils before slowly exhaling, his breath pushing away the blood-red flames near his face. All around him, there lay the injured bodies of phoenixes and dragons alike. Vur stood up on his hindlegs and crossed his arms over his chest, towering over the dragons and phoenixes who were half his size. He tilted his head to the side. “Why are all of you so weak?”


“They’re not weak,” Malvina said and made a face, her gaze shifting away from her abused companions. “You’re just freakishly strong. What in the world did you eat while growing up?”


“Bears,” Vur said. He turned his gaze onto Volearden. “Did everyone fight at their full strength?”


“Not with your skill crushing them,” Volearden said. “That’s the technique of a gold dragon, isn’t it? Did Vernon teach you that?”


Vur nodded. A second later, he blinked. “What color dragon are you?” he asked. Volearden was always wearing his set of armor; it was impossible to see what color scales he had. Was he a gold dragon like Vernon?


“That’s unimportant,” Volearden said. “You’re not just a dragon, are you?” Eyes made of blue and black swirls appeared on the armored dragon’s helmet. “You have the imprint of one, but a dragon isn’t all you are. There’s something powerful lurking within you that gives even the tower pause—almost like an Oebu Sin.”


Vur blinked and touched his chest with his paw. Something powerful inside of him? Grimmy had said something to Gren about putting the Soul Devourer inside of him while he was unconscious. Apparently, the Soul Devourer was capable of eating souls to get stronger. Vur wasn’t sure when he consumed souls, but he did feel an increase in strength every time he ate a bear. Maybe the souls of bears lived in their delicious meat.



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