Chapter 47: Tiefling (I)
A biting wind swept across the entrance of Rockfort, its icy breath seeping through the cracks and making the Goblin guard sneeze violently.
"Damn, it's freezing..."
"Yeah," came the reply from the nearby Goblin, rubbing his reddened nose—only to accidentally rake his claw across his face, drawing a long, fresh cut.
"Ow!" The Goblin yelped.
A bead of blood welled up, then froze instantly.
Months had passed since the first signs of dragonization began spreading among the Followers of Ashen Hollow. Though the changes were subtle compared to their leader’s transformation, many now bore unmistakable traits of the Red Dragon. Sparse scales here and there, claws sharpened into talons, ears frilled with delicate folds, an intense craving for heat—even a preference for scorching climates.
The Red Dragon, long dormant within the cavern, acted like a colossal source of influence, its Bloodline Gift subtly reshaping every soul within Ashen Hollow.
Kai Xiusu still lay curled in the depths of the cave, his massive form rising and falling slowly with each breath. With the cold creeping in, the Red Dragon—naturally drawn to warmth—had little desire to leave. He preferred to laze about, just like any native Ailezegai Red Dragon, spending his days eating and sleeping.
With a lazy stretch, Kai Xiusu cracked open his eyes.
"But some things must still be done."
He spoke in the Dragon Tongue, soft and low:
"Chimera—"
Instantly, the tri-headed beast shot out from a hidden crevice in the rock wall, landing before him with the obedience of a loyal hound.
Since receiving the Bloodline Gift, the once defiant creature had grown unnervingly docile—so much so that Kai Xiusu himself felt a strange unease.
"Take me to the Tiefling," Kai Xiusu commanded.
"What?" The three heads tilted in unison, confusion flickering across their faces.
A moment of silence. Then Kai Xiusu, exasperated, reached into a corner of the cave and picked up an old, horned skull. He held it before Chimera’s maw.
"Take me to them."
The Lion Head leaned in, sniffing carefully. Then, with clumsy but deliberate syllables, it replied in Dragon Tongue:
"Curved Horns... Human... not tasty."
Kai Xiusu sighed, irritation flaring. "They’re the ones. Take me there."
Chimera bowed its heads, quickly complying.
"Yes, Master."
With a low growl, it launched into the air, wings beating against the frigid wind.
Kai Xiusu followed, soaring through the storm-laden skies.
Beyond a range of snow-cloaked peaks, a clearing lay scattered with rough, makeshift tents, their fabric tattered and frozen. Nearby, a spacious cave glowed with flickering light, its walls hastily constructed from piled stones—this was the shelter the Tiefling called The Ruined Home.
Here, the red-skinned, horned Tiefling lived in hardship. The mountains shielded them from hunters, but not from the biting cold.
Despite the storm, they worked. Men braved the wind, chopping wood in the forest. Women stoked bonfires outside their tents, roasting game. Children scurried about, gathering dry branches and withered grass to feed the flames.
But in the warmer cave, the wounded lay dying. Wrapped in multiple layers of animal hides and grass fleece, their breaths grew shallow, their eyelids trembling, on the verge of closing forever.
"Meizhuolashi," a voice rasped, hoarse from cold. "If we keep this up, we won’t survive the winter. The injured... they’re fading. We have to go to the nearest town."
Meizhuolashi turned. His face was rugged, scarred from burns, his towering frame clad in blood-stained armor, dented and cracked from countless battles. His voice was heavy.
"Leirisha... you still cling to hope for humans?"
The female Tiefling shook her head.
"No, I—"
He cut her off sharply, voice rising.
"Have you forgotten the pitchforks? The pyres? The bodies hanging from the city gates, naked and charred? The cheers, the jeers from the crowd? Haven’t you seen what they truly are?"
He stepped forward, eyes like frozen black ice.
"They are humans, Leirisha.
If we go to any town, we won’t be welcomed with wine. We’ll be driven out—then hunted by The Old Vampire’s henchmen."
Leirisha trembled, tears welling in her eyes.
"They don’t know the truth... maybe... maybe we can explain..."
Meizhuolashi stared at her, his gaze piercing.
"Then you understand how they see us. Devil’s spawn."
A pause. Then, his voice dropped to a chilling whisper.
"One man is curious.
Two men are a conspiracy.
Three men... are a curse."
His eyes hardened.
"When they all raise their execution blades—fueled by fear, by hate—there will be no misunderstanding. Only death."
He said no more.
Instead, he turned, silently polishing the blood-streaked blade of his silver sword.
The metal gleamed, reflecting his weathered face—Ram Horns curling from his temples, eyes void of iris, fangs sharp as knives, skin the color of dried blood.
To the untrained eye, he might still pass for human.
But the Devil’s blood ran deep in his veins—etched into every line of his face.
Such a naive fool, Meizhuolashi thought, a bitter smile forming.
Memories surfaced—of a past he’d tried to bury.
In Northwind Keep, as a child, he’d been mocked, stared at, whispered about—because of his Devil’s blood. He’d endured violence on the streets, the fear in every glance. Yet, somehow, he’d found one true friend. A human.
It was luck.
It was cruelty.
That friendship had left a spark in him—a stubborn belief in trust, in kindness.
So he joined the city guard. Young, but sworn to the Oath of Redemption.
Paladins of this creed faced evil not to destroy, but to redeem.
They would only use violence when no other path remained.
They would never kill unless it was to save lives.
The young Tiefling believed every soul could be saved.
That justice and mercy were not mutually exclusive.
He had believed—truly believed—that goodness could heal the world’s wounds.
That kindness could silence the whispers.
And for a time... he had seen proof.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
