Chapter 47: The Smartest Bandit in the World (2/2)
“Really?” his chief of staff raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would be mad.”
“Of course not. If I cannot find quests, then this land is worthless to me. I will get my revenge, and that idiot gets nothing! I won twice!”
Congratulations! For using your head and not falling into your enemies’ insidious trap, you have earned two levels in [Kaiser]! You earned the [Charged Attack (Dragon Breath)] Class Perk!
+60 HP, +2 STR, +2 VIT, +2 SKI, +2 AGI, +1 INT, +2 CHA, +1 LCK.
[Charged Attack (Dragon Breath)]: You can now charge your fiery breath, building up its power in your belly, before releasing a more potent version of it.
And that was just the cow on top of the sheep cake.
The manling city of Lagon was most uncommon. The manlings had built it on the water.
From what Vainqueur could see, the city had once been a hundred or so small islands, before the manlings linked them together with stone bridges. They further expanded into the sea by building stone platforms standing on wooden pillars buried underwater and even refashioned ships in disrepair into improvised buildings. While the dragon couldn’t for the life of him fathom why anyone would live with so much water nearby, he had to praise their design.
However, it took three tries before Vainqueur found a floating house that wouldn’t sink when he landed on the roof. The manlings should find better architects.
Thankfully, the citizens of this city seemed civilized enough to treat Vainqueur as the emperor he was and immediately agreed to give him both his target and a feast. They didn’t breed good livestock, but they had spicy tamed krakens.
His chief of staff, as usual, handled the translation with the locals while his master gorged himself on squids; citizens on gondolas regularly circled his own current ‘throne’ to look at him, with Vainqueur doing his best to look magnificent to impress them.
“Your Majesty.” Manling Victor eventually came back leading a gondola carrying a mighty manling. This tanned, barbarian man towered above his chief of staff, and carried a cloak, a bag, and a heavy helmet. “I present you Garland Renoir, former member of the Blue Rose Legion, retired Scorcher, and currently a mercenary captain in service to the city of Lagon.”
The condemned manling looked up at Vainqueur with sorrowful green eyes, while the dragon let out a belch after finishing his kraken. He hadn’t tried to run away—not that it would have helped— which saved Vainqueur the trouble of hunting him further. “I knew this day would come,” he spoke with a grave voice, ”Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”
“Yes,” Vainqueur glared at this worm. “Your sin against me is unforgivable!”
The man winced, cowering at the dragon’s divine judgment. “How much then?”
“How much?” Vainqueur repeated while squinting.
“How much not to eat me?” the manling offered, proving himself the smartest bandit in the world.
Vainqueur scoffed at the manling. “You believe you can buy me to forget your vile deed? Me? You think a dragon’s pride is for sale?”
“Twenty thousand gold coins?”
“That does not even cover the cost of my flight, not to mention my hono—”
“Thirty thousand.”
...
Vainqueur marked a short pause, before turning to his chief of staff. “How much is his head worth?”
“Thirty-five thousand,” Manling Victor replied.
“Okay, what about fifty-five thousand?” the criminal proposed. “That covers my bounty and the money I got from my old lie. Pretty good deal, huh?”
The dragon pondered the question. His pride was second only to his lust for gold…
“Sixty thousand, twenty cattle, and you will have to make a formal, public apology to me in front of witnesses,” Vainqueur replied. “That is my first offer. The second is a trip to my bowels.”
“Okay,” Manling Garland immediately accepted. “I’ll take a bit of my company’s reserve fund, but I can scrap the money.”
“Your Majesty, he is a Scorcher,” Manling Victor pointed out. “He’s a wanted man before he murdered a baron and burnt his castle. Just saying nobody will miss him if you decide to eat him anyway.”
“Look, pal, you think I wanted to become a bandit?” the other manling replied angrily. “You think anyone wants to become a bandit? You think I went to some school and said to the teacher, ‘when I grow up, I wanna be the best thief there ever was’?”
“You don’t have to be snappy about it,” Manling Victor pouted.
“Times were hard, and my last employer didn’t pay me after I risked my life killing monsters for him. So I torched his place for the sake of my pride and took his stuff. Was that really ignominious?”
“I too have eaten a quest giver who would not pay me,” Vainqueur said, sympathizing with a fellow victim of manling ungratefulness.
“I’m doing honest sea monster hunting work there, enough that the city’s people didn’t turn me in to the royal authorities,” Garland continued. “I’m paying my debt to society. And I’m willing to pay the one I owe Yer dragon Majesty if you let me live long enough to do so.”
“Since you offered reparation, I shall find in my heart the mercy you lacked,” Vainqueur declared. “Because I am forgiving and merciful.”
“Yes, but are you really going to let him go?” Manling Victor seemed to struggle with his master's decision. “Don’t get me wrong, I am all about the diplomatic solution, but this sounds unlike Your Majesty.”
“Last time I forgave a thief and criminal, he became the best chief of staff in the world,” Vainqueur replied. “If this one is truly sorry for the vile crime he committed against my imperial person and offers a tribute in reparation, then I shall grant him a chance to turn his life around. Killing would be the petty manling thing, and I am a noble dragon. I am forgiving and merciful.”
“Oh, believe me, I’ve lived in fear since I heard you were back,” the former bandit said. “I feared that either you or my old employer would track me down for my lie.”
“I know the adventurer guild can be ruthless towards those who try to con them, but that was twenty years ago,” Manling Victor replied. “They had completely forgotten about you until we researched your identity.”
“Not the guild,” Garland shook his head. “We claimed the bounty they put on Yer Majesty’s head, but that wasn’t why we went after you. Somebody hired us to first.”
This caught Vainqueur’s full attention. “Explain,” he ordered the manling.
“You want the full story? Guess I owe you that.” Garland cleared his throat. “Two decades ago, I was an adventurer with my pals in Barin, one of the countries in the south; we were very good monster hunters. When our country Barsino joined Gardemagne in the Century War, the army hired us to help out against the fomors’ war beasts. The fairies and Brandon Maure fielded some nightmarish creatures, and they needed experts like us—”
“Manling, stop loving yourself,” Vainqueur interrupted. “I know it’s your kind’s favorite occupation, but I lose patience at more than twenty-five words.”
“Barsino crushed Maure’s forces and then marched through the Albain Mountains. We stayed in the area to kill monsters which could threaten the supply lines. That’s when someone approached us. Some freaky bard called Hamelin. The scary things he could do with his pipe… anyway, he had a job for us, with a big prize.”
Garland marked a short pause, before going on further. “He told us a red dragon called Vainqueur Knightsbane hibernated somewhere in the mountains, but he couldn’t find his lair. He wanted us to find the wyrm, kill him, and then bring back his bones as trophy.”
Friend Victor looked up at his master, who trembled with silent fury. Manling Garland hesitated to continue, but Vainqueur restrained himself for now.
“We managed to find your lair, but when we saw you sleeping… and just how enormous you were… we… we… how to say that...”
“You chickened out?” Manling Victor suggested, the wording making Vainqueur hungrier.
“We tactically retreated,” Manling Garland denied his cowardice, while Friend Victor put a hand on his forehead. “We didn’t even touch the hoard for fear Yer Majesty would wake up.”
If they had, Vainqueur would have eaten him on the spot. He gave this manling a point for showing the willpower not to touch his hoard; a temptation that even Manling Victor couldn’t resist.
“We couldn’t go back empty-handed, so our [Astrologer] located old dragon fossils in the mountains. We dug them up, falsified them, and then we pretended they were yours. We tricked the guild and Hamelin, seized the reward, and then scattered to the winds in case anyone caught on.”
“How could you sully my name for money?” Vainqueur growled.
“The bard didn’t pay us with gold. He gave us top of the line magical items… such as this one.”
The manling mercenary opened his bag, bringing out a strange weapon which seemed vaguely familiar to Vainqueur: a long, heavy iron stick with a barrel at the end.
Manling Victor seemed to recognize the item, his eyes widening. “Holy hell, that’s—”
“The legendary weapon [Kalashnikov],” Manling Garland boasted. “Neat weapon, huh?”