Chapter 8: Level Grinding (1/2)

Instead of breeding, Manling Victor had adopted a full litter of new minions.

And already they proved useful. “Master Vainqueur, Master Vainqueur!” Yellow, the kobold with the best nose, pointed a claw at a bush, the dragon smelling a Scorcher manling hiding there. “I found another!”

Vainqueur let out a roar, raising the giant axe Ogron the one-eyed ogre had kindly given him…

Or rather, struggling, as he couldn’t keep the axe properly aligned even while wielding it with all his clawed fingers. How did the manlings do it?

Like a rabbit, the manling ran out of the bushes, only for Black, the biggest of the new recruits, to chase after him with a spear. Vainqueur followed, causing trees to fall as he moved through the woods; he constantly struggled against the urge to run back on all four, as a good dragon should.

How did that cyclops do it? Raise the axe up, and then down.

Vainqueur tried, the upward swing sending a pine tree fly, and he struggled to aim right at the escaping food-in-waiting. “Minion!” Vainqueur shouted. “MINION!”

“Yes, yes, I’m here!” Manling Victor emerged from the woods with his dagger toothpicks, barring the escaping prey’s way and forcing it to flee in another direction.

“This axe is not working!”

“Just swing it down when we have him immobilized! And remember, you meet the class criteria, but you have to impress your fans with a melee weapon strike, Your Majesty! Kill him with style, or you won’t access the new class!”

Style? Like a crushing display of superiority? “Dear mammals,” Vainqueur asked Dead Manling Running. “Do you know what dragons call pain?”

Kobold Red jumped from a bush, trapping the prey and forcing him to stop running. The mammal briefly turned his head behind, crying at the sight of Vainqueur’s majesty.

“A birth defect!”

And then Vainqueur swept the scorcher with the axe, smashing him into a crater of blood and broken bones.

“Argh!” The aftershock sent his entrails splatter on Red’s face, the poor kobold having to remove brain matter off his eyes. “I have human blood in my eyes!”

“Vainqueur, best dragon!” Black and Yellow cheered him up, as expected. “Vainqueur, best dragon!”

By impressing a crowd of fans with your weapon prowess and moxie, you gained a level in the [Gladiator] Class! You gained the [Arena Warrior] Perk!

+30 HP, +2 STR, +1 VIT, +1 SKI, +1 CHA, +1 LCK!

[Arena Warrior]: instantly gain medium proficiency in all melee weapons.]

“Ouch,” minion Victor said. “Ouch, that joke hurt.”

“Joke?” Vainqueur asked, finding the axe suddenly light in his hand. He played with it, but he still had troubles wielding the weapon without his claws getting in the way. His hands were made to run on all four or rip the prey to shreds, not carry a bladed stick!

“Wait, dragons really consider pain a birth defect?” his chief of staff asked him.

“Why, yes, only lesser beings feel it,” Vainqueur replied plainly, before standing proud. “But not as much as I felt this new Gladiator class!”

“Vainqueur, best dragon!” Red added, late to the party. “Your Majesty is the greatest in the world!”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Vainqueur replied, pleased, “Still, Minion Victor, do I still need to use the axe to gain levels in that class? I find it impractical.”

“No, just to impress fans with your battle prowesses.”

Vainqueur gave the stick one last chance, grabbing the axe with his mouth and swinging it this way. “Hosh do I loosh?” he asked, trying to adopt a dominant pose, only to hit a tree with the back of the blade and nearly lose equilibrium.

The minions exchanged glances, too aware of their master’s sensitivity to speak their mind. Obviously, he should stick to his dragon weapons.

He was too good for manling weapons anyway.

“Your axe sticks suck,” Vainqueur said, as he spat out the weapon, which landed in the bushes nearby with a loud crash. “Now, Minion Victor, I keep slaughtering these Scorcher ruffians and yet [Old Money] does not activate with your kind.”

“Yeah, I guess it is to prevent nobles from slaughtering their peasants for items. It should work with monsters though.”

Vainqueur glanced at the kobolds with greed, before deciding no good dragon slaughtered their minions for items. For treachery and theft, always, but good, loyal minions were too valuable to get rid of casually.

The world already abounded with victims.

“At least he had some standard loot on him,” Victor said, as he inspected the remains. “Iron daggers, and nice boots.”

“Not good enough for my hoard,” Vainqueur replied. A good dragon had wealth standards. “Next!”

“I don’t smell another,” Yellow said, smelling the air with his fellow kobolds. “Your Majesty got them all!”

“Aw… “ Vainqueur sighed in disappointment. “So no more levels and no gold today?”

“We can always sell his belongings,” Victor suggested. “I know you don’t want to become a Merchant, but we don’t need a class to sell these items. I could even use the gains to invest in better stuff.”

“Invest?” Vainqueur didn’t know the word.

“Yeah, you give away some gold in exchange for something else with more value.”

Vainqueur’s brain stopped working. “Giving away gold.”

“Your Majesty,” Victor cleared his throat. “For something else which has more value.”

“Giving away gold,” Vainqueur repeated, his noble mind unable to progress past that line.

“Yes, but you gain more afterward, so you don’t really give it away. It’s a disguised loan.”

“Giving away gold,” Vainqueur repeated these cursed words for the third time. “Manling Victor are you well? Are you sick? I did not know the lack of breeding could have such dangerous effects on your mental health.”

The minion finally understood he had gone too far into sin. “Your Majesty cannot even imagine it.”

“What kind of sane mind would?” Vainqueur retorted, before shuddering at the mere word. “Giving.”

“Yes, I suddenly realize that may have been too much for Your Majesty.”

“Master Vainqueur, the chief of staff only tried to help you,” Yellow pleaded. “Please forgive him.”

“Buttkisser, buttkisser!” Black taunted his fellow, Red punching both of them in the shoulders. “Ouch!”

“No argument before the chief of staff!” Red said. “Remember protocol!”

“The protocol?” Manling Victor asked.

“The minion protocol,” Vainqueur clarified, before realizing he never drilled his chief of staff on proper minion management.

“The chief of staff is the highest echelon of the minion pecking order, the ultimate honor a monster lord can bestow!” tiny Red explained to manling Victor. “It is the ultimate minion killing machine, the most ferocious enforcer of the most dreaded of masters! Fifty percent strength, fifty percent cunning, two hundred percent loyalty!”

“Now you’re exaggerating on that last bit…” manling Victor replied with his trademark humility.

“You underestimate your importance in the food chain,” Vainqueur cheered him up, “You are only beneath me in the preciousness hierarchy. You are even above princesses!”

“Nice to hear Your Majesty values me between himself and pretty faces,” the minion thanked his generous master.

“Of course, princesses are precious, but you are almost an honorary part of my hoard, manling Victor. If we are to starve, we will make a sacrifice and eat the minions together.”

“Your Majesty, I understood your first sentence, but you lost me with the second.”

“The preciousness rating also represents your place in the food chain,” Vainqueur taught him. “Each member of the chain can eat those below if they are hungry. If you and I are hungry without food available, we can eat minions as emergency rations.”

“It would be an honor to feed Your Majesty!” small Yellow said.

“Wait, wait,” manling Victor panicked. “Does that mean you count me as a potential meal?”