As they walked along the winding path toward the storehouse, withered leaves falling around them like gentle rain, she quietly observed his profile, attempting to reconcile his features with the image she had of him in her memory. It had been years since they had last met, and he was not only taller now, but dressed in much finer clothes. The latter was hardly surprising — after all, he was now a Recording Officer of the Grand Alliance, and had come to receive the banner of the Flower-Feather Clan in the name of the Holy Sovereign. It was only natural that he would dress well for the occasion. He had changed, she thought, but how could a person not have? The only thing that had not was his sluggishness. "I assure you that the cook's skills will suit your taste," he said, pausing as though he expected a reply. She remained silent, so he continued, "Once we reach Cinder City and meet with His Majesty..."
Unable to bear the ceaseless chatter any longer, the dragon let forth a thunderous roar, cutting it short. It could smell that repulsive scent on her, the kind that even all the springs of the south could not wash away. These lowly insects, it thought, puny bugs deluding themselves into believing that they could seize control of these scorching plains through the tricks of a traitorous lunatic. It chased her unrelentingly, intent on piercing her with its claws, smiting her even to the sand with them, though she had avoided out of its presence twice.
She pretended not to care what he thought, responding only with a gentle smile. He studied her for a moment, hoping to read some subtle emotion upon her lips. As always, he found no trace of resistance on that mask of indifference she wore. Ever had she been so, he mused sympathetically. Since the day they first met, she had always been this way — quiet and compliant, never one to resist, as docile as a Capybara down by the riverbank, accepting without question all that fate had in store for her, the exact opposite of her hard-hearted mother. "Do not worry," he suddenly said. "Even if they are all gone, I will stay with you forever, until death parts us." She looked at him, smiled, and took his outstretched hand, seemingly submissive. "Until death parts us," she repeated his words softly, as if speaking to herself. For the briefest of moments, a crack seemed to appear in that perfect mask of hers, but he did not notice. In fact, he never noticed anything. Poor man, she thought, always so eager to play his role, yet never having been praised for it... What lousy luck.
But luck was not the deciding factor, merely a footnote in this prolonged hunt. For years now, following the trail of its wicked scent, she had hunted this giant dragon. She understood its vanity and how it could be seduced with words, so certain of its mastery of fate that it was convinced it could resist the inevitable conclusion that awaited. It was this delusional fantasy that had drawn it here, just as her slender fingers now drew the bowstring taut. Perfectly still she remained, eyes fixed upon the approaching beast, its frame so gigantic that it almost filled the cave's entrance, as if it were oil seeping out from a jar. She could feel its gaze, its predatory stare. Standing there, she was nothing to it — as insignificant as a mere insect, a feather caught in the wind. "What is this place, you insidious weasel?" |
the weapon can be used in non-freeze teams when you use esco as just an sub-dps and by other charac...