78: Impossible Cut

Looking around, I observed Jen as she attempted several more times to cut into the tail. I even went so far as to try myself, but laughably, I couldn’t so much as leave an impression on the skin—let alone cut it.

In fact, I was fairly sure that if I continued, I’d end up breaking the knife rather than cutting anything.

“I don’t really want to lose the scales, but I also don’t want to anger the dragon,” Jen said, looking a bit worried.

“It’ll be hard to cook with them on. I remember Crisplet checked the drake scales, and the only way the fire got around it was by being larger than the scale itself. If this protects the meat the same way, the only place it’ll cook is the end—where it’s ripped and where the teeth marks are,” I said.

This was certainly an unexpected problem I hadn’t seen coming.

“Just a moment, I’ll get Hari. He’ll surely be able to cut it—even if not cleanly,” Jen said, before heading to the entrance to fetch Hari, who was just outside the door.

A moment later, Hari was in the room with his sword out, trying to cut the tail. He tried several methods. First, he attempted to get under a scale and cut, but like Jen, he couldn’t pierce the leathery skin underneath. He then tried to push the tip of his sword in with as much force as he could muster…

And nothing.

We worked out that we could cut into the flesh from the ripped end, but it would be a pain to do. Liane and Milo both gave it a try as well, and Liane actually managed to leave a faint scratch using her penetrating ability.

But still, nothing worked.

After about an hour of testing various methods—and still not wanting to sacrifice the scales—two adventurer groups showed up. They were greeted by Milo at the outer walls.

Something I noticed while I’d been inside: there were no entrances to the inner structure. The archway we’d come through with our horses earlier was now completely gone, replaced with a solid stone wall.

After they explained who they were, Milo created an entryway where Hari was waiting on the other side.

“Greetings. I thank you for coming so promptly,” Hari began, as nine people came into the inner circle, the stone walls closing behind them.

“Hello, pleasure to be here. My name’s Sarah,” said a tall, well-built woman, dismounting from what I wanted to call a horse—though it clearly wasn’t. The creature was reptilian, with scales instead of fur, and a much leaner frame. It looked fierce.

“This is my party—the Summer’s Breath,” she said, gesturing behind her. The others bowed politely. Their group appeared to be made up of two archers, a mage who looked to be a healer based on her robes, Sarah herself with a shield and sword like Hari, and finally a gaunt-looking man who gave off a similar vibe to how Liane used to when I first met her.

All of them rode the same scaled, sleek-looking beasts.

The second party dismounted just behind them. A short man with a large two-handed axe slung over his back approached and shook Hari’s hand.

“Hello, young lad. Name’s Greg. This here is my party—the Stone Front,” he said, nodding back at his team, which looked to be made up of two mages, a swordsman of some kind, and himself.

“I hope you’ve all been given a brief on why you’re here, and what the goal is?” Hari asked. Sarah nodded silently, but Greg spoke up.

“We got a little bit of information, but if I’m honest with you, I don’t really understand why we’re here—or why you’ve got a little fortress in the middle of the plains, either,” Greg said.

“To put it bluntly,” Hari replied, maintaining a professional tone, “a dragon made a request of my support to cook a meal. It provided the meat. If that dragon doesn’t get its meal, there’s no telling what might happen to anyone in the vicinity.”

“Right… a request from a dragon. That no one heard. Except for the boy,” Greg said, clearly sceptical, but there was a hint of disgust behind his tone? I wasn’t sure exactly, but I thought I noticed it.

Surprisingly, it was Sarah who spoke up.

“You must not have been there when the cat showed up inside the Guild Hall—in front of everyone—and took the boy to the dragon.”

“Yes, yes, I heard the tale…” Greg began—only to be cut off as one of Sarah’s party members spoke up.

“It was no tall tale,” said the woman, who had yet to be introduced. “I have an advanced danger sense, and that cat screamed absolute danger like I’ve never experienced before. And then the dragon… when it appeared, we couldn’t even move.”

“Yet a support—who’s of no real power—could not only withstand the pressure, but also have a conversation with it? Enough to take a dinner request?” Greg snorted, clearly unconvinced.

A couple of chuckles rippled through his party as he said it, none of them hiding how unimpressed they were with this assignment.

Greg wasn’t done. “So, what did it request? A fancy cake? Maybe a nice Buvul stew?” He laughed at his own joke.

“It requested the tail of the Storm Dragon who used to reside in the mountain,” Liane replied, her tone cold enough to cut stone.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“Nonsense…” Greg started again.

“Go inside. Have a look,” Liane said, each word dripping with venom.

Greg didn’t back down—either assuming she was bluffing or just exaggerating. He walked into the structure, took one look around, and stopped in his tracks.

“That… that could be any creature’s tail. How do you know it’s from a dragon?” he said, trying to sound composed.

Liane appeared beside him, practically whispering in his ear. “Alright, big man. Try to cut it.”

Greg’s face turned red. I couldn’t tell whether it was because of the jab at his height or the implication that he’d be too weak to make a dent. Either way, he stormed up to the tail, drew his axe, and swung it down with a loud grunt.

It bounced off. Predictably.

Though to be fair, it didn’t seem like he’d put his full strength behind it.

The rest of the group had now filtered inside to watch.

Greg scowled and squared up for another swing. His axe began to glow red, and with a shout, he brought it down again—hard.

This time, something happened. But not what any of us expected.

The axe cracked.