Chapter 50: Tiefling (IV)
The Giant Malevolent Snowman sensed the danger of the attack and reacted instantly, gathering power in its throat as icy shards formed deep within. A chilling wind swept toward the Tiefling Holy Knight, freezing the very air.
“Freezing Breath!”
Yet Meizhuolashi pressed forward regardless, blade raised high, cutting through the frigid gale with unwavering resolve. The Snowman tilted its head, and the sword struck its massive, spiraling horns—cutting slowly, deeply. But the beast’s immense strength held the blade fast, its horns trembling violently, making it nearly impossible for Meizhuolashi to maintain control.
Around him, the Guardian Aura flared weakly, barely holding back the creeping frost that sought to claim his body. Blood poured from the Snowman’s severed arm, and Meizhuolashi’s limbs began to freeze—this was the final, desperate stand.
Neither side gave ground. Both were locked in a deadly stalemate, each determined to end the other.
Then—suddenly—a shift.
“Boom!”
A barrage of searing fireballs struck the Snowman’s back, scorching its thick fur and throwing it off balance. The fire’s heat penetrated deep into its flesh, burning through its icy core. The weakened creature roared in agony, instinctively releasing its grip and flinging the Tiefling aside.
It spun around, chest heaving, roaring in fury—ready to confront the treacherous attacker.
But what met its gaze was a blazing inferno.
“Extreme Efficiency Flame Breath!”
In an instant, the snow vanished, vaporized. The ground cracked open, steaming with white vapor. The once-mighty Giant Malevolent Snowman still stood—yet its form was now a charred, blackened ruin, reeking of burnt flesh and scorched hair.
A faint breeze passed through, and the corpse collapsed into a pile of fine, ash-like dust—scattered into the wind, lost to the storm.
“Tch. Weak monsters,” Kai Xiusu said, folding his wings as he landed softly on the ground, his boots crushing the remains beneath.
His Character Sheet updated instantly.
[You have defeated Giant Malevolent Snowman (Challenge Level 9). Gained 5,000 experience points.]
[Your level has increased to Level 6.]
The thrill of the kill was intoxicating—taking down a Level 9 monster in one clean strike.
As the Snowman disintegrated, the remaining creatures scattered like frightened birds, fleeing back into the endless white peaks.
Though the immediate threat was gone, the Tieflings remained tense—because now, something far worse had arrived.
A far more powerful, unpredictable force.
The Red Dragon.
It had saved them. But no one knew whether it was friend or foe—especially not one of the infamous, brutal Red Dragons known for their cruelty and wrath.
Tiefling Warriors gripped their swords and shields, eyes locked on the approaching beast. No one dared move. No one dared provoke it.
Meizhuolashi staggered to his feet, leaning heavily on his sword. He forced himself to remain calm, staring at the massive figure before him—nearly ten meters long, muscles rippling beneath a coat of brilliant, metallic scales. Its breath exhaled in waves of sulfurous heat, as if a volcano slept within its chest.
A true Red Dragon.
There was no way to fight it.
He knew the truth: Red Dragons were legendary for their brutality. Any provocation could ignite their wrath, and with a single breath, they could reduce everything to ash.
The most infamous among them in the Storm Ridge region was “Flyflame”—the dragon that had slaughtered the Eagle Guard.
But enemies of your enemy… are your allies.
With that thought, he gave the order.
“Lower your weapons.”
The warriors hesitated, but obeyed. They dropped their arms, their weapons clattering into the snow.
Meizhuolashi sheathed his sword, then slowly bowed, forcing his body to submit.
“Honorable Lord Flyflame,” he said, voice steady despite the strain, “thank you for ending our enemy. Once we are safe, we will offer you a reward—worthy of your aid.”
“But… why have you come here?”
Kai Xiusu looked down at the Tiefling, his expression unreadable. He didn’t answer immediately—instead, he tilted his head slightly, as if amused.
“You’re the leader of the Tiefling Resistance?”
“The so-called Devil’s heir—legendary for devouring three humans per meal?”
Meizhuolashi remained calm, his tone flat.
“Just another lie spun by the Lakanman Family. I’m sure you know well enough how arrogant and vile those bloodsuckers are. They’ve always acted with impunity—invading your lands without regard.”
Kai Xiusu stared down, his golden eyes piercing.
“Not bad. A decent speech. But words and a few pitiful soldiers won’t carry you through the Winter of Anzeta.”
Meizhuolashi met his gaze.
“You knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you came.”
Kai Xiusu shook his head slightly.
“Honestly? You’re barely worth my notice. Only you hold some minor value. The rest of your kind? Worth less than a chest of silver.”
Meizhuolashi straightened, voice firm.
“But I will fight for them. I will die for them.”
Kai Xiusu narrowed his eyes.
“I can help you resist the Lakanman army.”
“But you’re already at war with them. This has nothing to do with us.”
Kai Xiusu let out a soft, mocking laugh.
“Yet I can still decide your fate. If I were to make peace with the Lakanman Family—report your location, grant them safe passage through my territory—what do you think would happen?”
He paused, letting the silence sink in.
“Frankly? You have no leverage in negotiations.”
He continued, voice like embers.
“Think about it. My Ashen Hollow can shelter your people. I can offer you refuge—protection from the cold… and from the Eagle Guard’s hunt.”
The offer was tempting.
Meizhuolashi’s breath quickened.
His dream had died long ago. Now, all he wanted was survival—for his people to endure.
And now, the chance was right before him.
After a long silence, he spoke.
“Then… Lord… what is the price?”
The young Tiefling Holy Knight, hardened by war and loss, knew one truth above all: nothing comes free.
In this world, there are no gifts—only debts, and the blood of those who ignore them.
Kai Xiusu leaned in, his voice a whisper—like a serpent’s hiss from the depths of hell.
“Northwind Keep.”
“I want you to become my Follower. Help me claim it.”
Meizhuolashi lifted his head. In the dragon’s golden eyes, he saw flames—hellfire, burning with ancient hunger.
He had once walked the path of light, of mercy and justice. Even after breaking his vow, he had clung to the principles of the Paladin, trying to remain true to himself.
But now, survival demanded sacrifice.
To live. To protect his people.
He would become a follower of the Evil Dragon.
He would take the city.
“…Yes, Master.”
“The Tiefling tribe pledges obedience to your will.”
Meizhuolashi—once sworn to kneel only before the divine—now dropped to one knee, bowing before the Red Dragon.
(End of Chapter)
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