The shadowed depths of the man-made tunnel, cold and unyielding, were suddenly disturbed by an unwelcome intruder.
A shattering crash of a wooden cabinet echoed from above, drawing two burly men to investigate.
They stumbled upon Richard, and their lives were snuffed out in an instant.
Behind them, a child’s piercing scream cut through the air, yanking the alarm bell with frantic hands.
The clang reverberated through the tunnel, a herald of chaos.
In times past, the denizens of this dark kingdom—slaves and the lackeys of Black Boar Pete—would have snapped to attention.
They’d follow the meticulous contingency plans penned by Pete himself: trigger the mechanism to collapse the cave, seal the stone door, and take position at the firing slits, crossbows at the ready to rain death upon any intruder.
But not today.
They had only just returned from the surface, exhausted from hauling every scrap of value back to the world above under Pete’s relentless orders.
Mentally unprepared and organizationally in disarray, they were caught off guard.
When Richard, bearing Aurina on his back, strode through the narrow tunnel into the vast underground cavern, the defenders had barely mustered a ragtag force of twenty or thirty.
They met him head-on, a collision of fate in the gloom.
In the underworld, every sprawling cavern was a treasure beyond price.
This one had been transformed into a den of indulgence—a stage for performances, a bar laden with spirits, beds draped in silks, and walls adorned with unspeakable toys.
Patrons invited here could lose themselves in the melodies of enslaved musicians, indulge in fleeting pleasures, and, with a lavish toss of coin, claim their chosen prize.
Now, amidst the shrieks of terrified maids, the cavern had become a battlefield.
Black Boar Pete’s private army, honed by rigorous training and led by battle-scarred mercenaries and grizzled veterans, moved with disciplined precision.
At barked commands, five or six spear-wielding brutes blocked Richard’s path, their weapons gleaming with menace.
Others, armed with shields and longswords, formed a protective line behind the spearmen.
From the second floor, six or seven crossbowmen emerged, their bolts ready, while a mage began chanting an incantation, his voice a low hum of impending doom.
Richard drew his longsword, its blade catching the faint torchlight, and bellowed, “Drop your weapons and surrender, or face death without mercy!”
The response was a hail of crossbow bolts.
They struck Richard’s enchanted “insect shell” armor and snapped like dry twigs.
One bolt grazed Aurina’s calf, tearing through her white silk stocking.
She winced, glancing down at the ruined fabric and the shallow cut beneath, her prized stocking now worth several copper coins less.
The audacity of these vermin, daring to break her skin!
Fury surged through Aurina.
“Richard!” she roared.
“Charge! Charge! How dare they ignore the majesty of this queen!”
Richard shouted back, “Don’t breathe fire! And get behind me—stop riding my shoulders!”
“No!”
Aurina tightened her grip on his head.
A true dragon could never allow mere insects to look down upon her.
Amid the clamor, Richard charged the spear line.
The brutes, trained to counter cavalry, braced their spear butts against the ground.
A seasoned mercenary officer, his voice trembling despite his experience, barked, “Thrust! Aim for the head, the feet, the chest!”
The spears lunged forward, but Richard’s sword swept through them like a scythe through straw.
The broken shafts hadn’t even hit the ground before he barreled through, a living tank shattering the formation.
A spear thrust toward Aurina.
She snatched it mid-air, yanking it from the wielder’s grasp with a single tug.
Beneath her, Richard swung his enchanted blade, his movements hampered by her weight but no less lethal.
The magical sword cleaved through shields and flesh alike.
Screams and severed limbs filled the air.
The surviving spearmen, undaunted by death, drew longswords and hacked at Richard, their blades clanging uselessly against his enchanted plate, each strike a futile note in a metallic dirge.
When Aurina finally wrested the spear free and wielded it in the cramped space, the battlefield was already strewn with bodies.
Only a handful of helmeted veterans remained, shielding their mercenary captain.
His eyes blazed red as he screamed, “Demon! He’s a demon!”
Richard lunged forward, sword raised to strike, but Aurina was faster.
Her spear darted like a viper, piercing the captain’s eye.
He collapsed, lifeless, as his men turned and fled in terror.
“Gah! The great queen has turned the tide!”
Aurina crowed triumphantly.
Richard had no time for her boasts.
He surged forward, his sword piercing the back of a fleeing veteran’s neck, bypassing his armor with surgical precision.
Another fell to a sweeping slash that claimed his head.
But as he moved to finish the last, the man threw up his hands, pleading, “Wait! Let me pass!”
Aurina’s battle instincts flared.
Following the man’s gaze, she spotted a figure on the second floor reaching for a lever.
Without hesitation, she hurled her spear.
It flew like a serpent, piercing the man’s chainmail and nearly passing through his chest.
But with his dying breath, he pulled the lever.
The floor beneath Richard gave way, plunging him and the last survivor toward a pit lined with sharpened spikes.
A desiccated corpse, already impaled, served as a grim promise of what awaited.
Aurina cursed her current frail form.
In her prime, no insect could have withstood her full might—except, perhaps, the one beneath her.
“Gah! This queen despises weakness!”
Without a second thought, she released her grip, planting her stockinged feet on Richard’s shoulders and shoving off, sending him hurtling faster toward the deadly trap.
A scream tore through the air as the spikes pierced flesh, impaling throat and limbs.
But a glow erupted from the fire-scale amulet at Richard’s chest.
In a flash of crimson light, he reappeared at the pit’s edge, sword clattering from his hand.
He reached desperately into the trap, shouting, “Aurina!”
“Gah? I’m right here,” Aurina called, casually tossing a shield into the air to deflect an incoming crossbow bolt.
Richard turned, relief washing over him as he saw her unharmed.
“Stay here,” he ordered, catching his breath. “Don’t wander off.”
With a flicker of his fire-scale amulet, he vanished, reappearing on the second floor.
Aurina wasted no time.
She dove toward the fallen bodies, hands, feet, and tail snatching up every scrap of value—rings, necklaces, bracelets—stuffing them into her mouth like a ravenous beast.
She moved like a whirlwind, a humanoid vacuum sweeping the battlefield clean.
The maids, huddled in terror, watched in stunned silence as the red-haired tempest tore through their belongings.
Necklaces vanished from their necks, rings from their fingers, bracelets from their wrists.
In moments, they were stripped of their gaudy adornments, left looking oddly plain.
“Too tacky, too tacky,” Aurina declared, grinning.
“This is much better. No need to thank me.”
She flicked her tail, a string of bracelets flying into the air before she snapped them up, swallowing them whole.
The maids’ screams faded into dumbfounded silence, their jaws slack.
Aurina’s golden eyes gleamed with mischief.
“Clap, now!” she demanded, irresistible in her exuberance.
The maids, still reeling, began to applaud.
Boom!
Richard vaulted down from the second floor, landing with a thud.
“Aurina, hurry!”
“Until we meet again!”
Aurina called to the maids, flashing a grin as she dashed toward Richard.
“You’ll all get your chance one day!”
As the dragon and her knight vanished into the tunnel, one maid timidly whispered, “Did she… take all our jewelry?”
The realization dawned, and the cavern fell silent once more.
***
The tunnel grew darker, damper, its walls slick with dripping water.
Flickering torches cast feeble light on the twisting path as Richard, with Aurina still clinging to him, pressed forward.
Shouts echoed ahead.
“Quick! Release the big one!”
“Charge!”
Aurina bellowed, her voice ringing with glee.
Richard shouldered through a wooden door just as a hulking troll was freed from its cage.
The beast seized a fleeing figure, smashing them against a rock wall with a sickening crunch.
This was no man-made tunnel but a natural cavern, carved by time.
A dark river flowed through it, flanked by wooden racks lined with cages.
Slaves within pressed their faces to the bars, straining to see in the oppressive gloom.
“Holy Slash!”
A radiant arc of light sliced through the cavern’s darkness, cleaving the three-meter troll in two.
Its wounds smoked, charred by divine fire, and it collapsed in a cloud of dust.
Richard stood atop the troll’s corpse, his sword held before him, its blade pressed to his forehead.
“Let there be light,” he intoned.
A beam of divine radiance bathed him, a blessing from his god.
It illuminated the hopeful faces of the caged slaves—and the despair of Black Boar Pete’s men.
Richard raised a hand, his body aglow with a white aura, and pointed at Pete in the distance.
“Black Boar Pete, surrender or not, the law demands your head.”
Pete’s face twisted from shock to rage.
His trembling hand rose as he roared, “Don’t fear him! I have a plan! Light the straw, hold him off—and you, protect your master!”
“Yes, Master,” purred a black-furred vixen, her eyes glowing with pink hearts.
She followed Pete onto a boat laden with treasures, shouting, “Release the water!”
Female knights and mages, their eyes also alight with pink enchantment, charged Richard without hesitation.
From a cage, a chestnut-haired man shouted, “Don’t kill them! They’re enthralled! Celiasya, Celiasya, wake up!”
“Aurina, no fire,” Richard warned, then charged forward.
Despite their slave contracts, Pete’s forces crumbled before him.
The terrain was treacherous, but Richard burned divine energy through his fire-scale amulet, teleporting past obstacles and attackers alike, racing toward Pete’s fleeing boat.
The dark river surged, its waves propelling Pete’s vessel.
Pete knelt on the rocking deck, praying to some dark power.
“Lord of Pleasure, save me! I offer my soul and this sacrifice!”
A strange aura enveloped him, rippling through the cavern.
Beside him, the vixen ignored the chestnut-haired man’s desperate cries of “Celiasya, wake up!” and unleashed a magical blast at Richard.
Boom!
The blast struck Richard’s helmet, distorting the air.
The damage was minimal, but the force pushed him back several meters.
“Stop chasing!”
Pete roared.
“I have a plan, and you’ll regret it, servant of the God of Justice! Look behind you!”
Richard teleported past another blast, glancing back.
Aurina had followed, her golden eyes gleaming like polished coins, fixed on Pete.
“Treasure! My precious treasure!” she muttered, entranced.
“The slaves will burn!”
Pete taunted.
“You can still save them!”
The cavern was now ablaze, Pete’s men having set fire to piled straw despite their faltering courage.
Richard cursed the situation.
His training demanded he assess the situation, rally local believers or the righteous, and form a rescue team.
Numbers brought strength, and even the powerless could contribute to justice.
It was a tenet of his knightly order.
Had he organized a team, Pete’s men wouldn’t have had the chance to set the fire, leaving him in this dilemma.
If he threw a javelin now, Pete would likely use the slaves as shields, and Richard wasn’t certain he could strike true.
He vowed to write a self-critical report later.
“Aurina, go!” he shouted.
“I’m counting on you!”
“Gah! Gah! Gah! Insects can’t compare—those spoils are mine!”
Aurina transformed into her human form, landing on him.
“Beast of burden, throw me!”
Ignoring her insolence, Richard hurled her forward.
The vixen’s magical blast missed, and Aurina kicked off a stalactite, soaring like a shadow toward Pete’s boat.
Pete didn’t flinch.
A sly grin spread across his plump face as he produced a vial of pink perfume and blew it toward her.
A cloud of rosy mist enveloped Aurina.
“No!” the chestnut-haired man screamed.
“Too late!”
Pete cackled, thrusting a gleaming mirror shard—worth over two thousand gold coins in Aurina’s eyes—into his own gaze.
Pink light shot from his eyes, sinking into her.
Aurina landed on the boat, her mind clouding.
“Hahaha!”
Pete’s laughter shook his jowls.
“The dragon maiden is mine! This perfume amplifies a woman’s desire for me a hundredfold, a thousandfold! With the Lord of Pleasure’s blessing—spurred by your God of Justice—it’s a millionfold!”
“Even a single copper’s worth of desire outweighs a thousand gold coins of disgust. She’s my slave now!”
To prove his point, he pinched the vixen’s thigh.
Aurina stared at Pete.
For the first time, her greed for treasure faded.
She didn’t see gold—only his scent, intoxicating and rich, his doughy body slathered in fragrant white powder.
Delicious.
A bite would surely burst with flavor, the meat springy against her teeth.
Her lips parted, drool dripping.
“Aurina!”
Richard’s voice cut through.
Startled, she realized he’d steal her meal if he reached her.
She lunged, transforming mid-air into her dragon form.
Her claws seized Pete’s shoulders, wings beating as the boat rocked wildly.
With a mighty flap, she lifted him into the air, soaring out of the cavern.
Pete, blood streaming from his shoulders, waved mockingly at Richard.
“I’ll return riding this dragon maiden!”
“No! Aurina, don’t—”
“She’s mine now—call her Little Na!”
Pete’s laughter drowned out Richard’s cry.
But as they vanished through the cave’s mouth, Richard’s shout completed: “—eat him!”
Aurina’s expression had mirrored her hunger for a roasted lamb.
There was no time to mourn his failure to guide her.
Richard turned, sprinting toward the fire to save the slaves, his divine powers spent, relying solely on his mortal strength.
***
Aurina soared over stunted trees, clutching Pete, and landed by a lake.
She tossed him onto the shore, glancing around to ensure no one would steal her prize.
“Ow… what a view,” Pete groaned, ignoring his bleeding shoulders.
“Perfect for a grand time. Come, transform back to that sweet girl, and let me reward you.”
He shed his trousers, eager.
Aurina was eager too.
Her dragon head turned, the beast—twice the size of a bull—fixing Pete in her gaze.
Her golden eyes held no pink hearts, only hunger, drool pooling as they reflected his trembling form.
She saw not a man, but a delicacy from the mysterious East: braised pork elbow.
A glistening dish, its skin fried crisp in hot oil, shimmering with a reddish-brown hue.
The aroma hit first—star anise and cinnamon, sweet with a hint of spice, followed by the rich sweetness of soy sauce and sugar.
The meat, simmered to absorb every spice, was tender yet springy, its interior meltingly soft, easily lifted with chopsticks.
Each bite, drenched in savory sauce, burst with flavor, a dance of sweet and umami that begged to be savored.
A scream shattered the air.
“No! Aurina, wake up!”
Pete echoed the chestnut-haired man’s futile cries: “Wake up! Aurina! You’re Aurina, remember?”
But his words were as useless as before.
Lost in a whirlpool of desire, Aurina thought only of Richard… and his steel gauntlets.
She’d leave half for him.
Aside from her sister, the great Red Dragon Queen Aurina had never shared half her meal with anyone.
It was an honor for the mightiest of insects.
When Richard arrived on horseback, he found Pete sprawled on the ground, eyes vacant, lips muttering, “Aurina… wake up…”
His legs were gone, the wounds cauterized by flame.
Seeing Richard, Pete reached out, voice trembling with hope.
“Holy Knight, please! Save me!”
Richard’s gaze flicked to Aurina’s dragon form, her back to him, then to Pete.
He charged, growling, “Damn you! Damn you!”
Aurina, driven by instinct, bared her teeth.
Richard raised his sword, shouting, “Holy Slash!”
She flinched, retreating.
Richard rushed past, raising his gauntleted fist, but Aurina cowered, claws shielding her head.
He sighed, lowering his fist, and turned to Pete.
“You pig. Your punishment fits, but you’ve tainted Aurina. You deserve a thousand hangings!”
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