The Blue Mage Raised by Dragons Read online

  Rudolph bit his lower lip and nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said. His father told him to follow orders closely and not be disrespectful. A rancid smell wafted up to his nose, and he almost puked. “Wait, wait. I have to clear Johann’s poop bag; I can’t stand the smell.”

  The warrior snorted. “If we stopped every time your dragon took a dump we’d never make it to Shaldor before nightfall. Keep going. That smell is pleasant compared to carnage on a battlefield.”

  ***

  Tafel put down the book in her hands and raised her head. Dustin was sitting across from her on a couch, reading a thick book. She couldn’t understand the letters written on its cover and promised herself she’d learn one day. Her gaze went back to her book, but her soul was weary. A sigh escaped from her childish lips, and she asked, “Dustin, how many dungeons have you cleared?”

  “Twenty seven and an eighth,” Dustin replied without raising his head. He turned a page. “You should read that book—it’s important.”

  Tafel frowned but resumed reading. After a few minutes passed, her legs fidgeted. She raised her head again and asked, “How do you clear an eighth of a dungeon?”

  Dustin sighed and put down his book. “It was a white-ranked dungeon,” he began. “I was with four other SSS-ranked adventurers: We thought it would be a breeze: the entrance to the valley was wide, and white ores lined the tops of the mountains. Lots of space makes kiting easier, but we were swarmed by summons: earth golems, water elementals, fire elementals, wind and ice spirits. It was terrible. We fought non-stop for two weeks before we reached a clearing. One of our companions, Doofus, died when he swallowed a water elemental hiding in his flask. He was our tank.” Dustin paused as he stared at the pages of his book. A smile crept onto his lips before he continued. “At the clearing, a fairy was eating an apple and saw us. She came over and told us we did a good job and that there were only seven waves remaining before we got to see the dragons, but if we gave up and left, she would resurrect Doofus. When we heard that, we accepted the deal and retreated.”

  “Where’s Doofus now? Are white-ranked dungeons really that hard?” Tafel asked with wide eyes.

  “Doofus gave up on adventuring after that and became a teacher at the academy. Who knows, he might be teaching your brothers right now,” Dustin said with a smile. “As for white-ranked dungeons; ah, if you see one, take a mental image and leave. It’s not worth the risk.”

  “Why are dungeons ranked by color and not just levels?”

  “Well, levels would be easier for people who’ve never been to a dungeon, but dungeon entranceways usually light up with a certain color depending on the strength of the mana source inside. So while a yellow dungeon is the equivalent of level one, it’s easier to say ‘that cave is glowing yellow; it’s a yellow dungeon.’ Right?”

  Tafel nodded. “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Mm. Now you really should read that book. History is important even if it doesn’t bring about tangible results.”

  Tafel sighed and buried her head into the pages.

  ***

  A colony of bats hung upside-down their toes clinging onto the ceiling of a cave. Beneath them, there was a stairwell leading up. Occasionally, a bat would fly to the top of the stairs and quickly fly back down. After one of the bats returned, it blinked at its companions.

  “Is it sleeping?”

  “I think it is.”

  “What the hell?”

  “Is it not afraid?”

  “Go … go poke it.”

  “Why don’t you poke it? It smells like a dragon. I ain’t touching that.”

  The space behind the bats distorted, and a pale woman wearing a red cloak appeared in midair. “What’s the issue?” she asked with an expressionless face. Her gaze traveled towards the stairwell, and her eyes narrowed.

  “Master! There’s a thing sleeping in the mini-boss room,” one of the bats chirped.

  “There’s two things!” another one said.

  “Is it a dragon? It feels like a dragon, but how did it get in the cave?” the woman asked. Her face hardened as her mana churned, causing ripples to appear in the space around her. “I’ll check it out.”

  “Be careful. It’s scary, very scary. It dragged in a behemoth,” a bat called out as the woman’s figure disappeared.

  “Think she’ll be alright?”

  “Of course. Master is always alright.”

  “Yes, Master’s the best.”

  The woman arrived at the top of the stairs. The mana in her body stopped moving as her mouth fell open. Her brow furrowed as her head tilted to one side. What the hell was this? There was a naked boy and a pig sleeping on top of a frozen behemoth bear while the eight-legged basilisk mini-boss she owned was lying on its back, pretending to be dead. When it sensed the woman’s presence, it scrambled to its feet and scurried behind her.

  “Useless thing,” she said and kicked it. “Can’t you even kill a boy and his pig?”

  The basilisk shook its head and ran down the stairs, making a racket on its way down.

  “Why’s it so noisy?”

  The woman turned her attention towards the frozen bear. Vur sat up while holding a snoring Snuffles. He turned towards the woman and their eyes met. Her eyes widened when she saw his golden slit pupils, and she kneeled while lowering her head.

  “I’m sorry for my lack of respect, dragon. May I know why you took residence here?” she asked.

  Vur blinked and a wide smile appeared on his face. “That’s right; I’m a dragon,” he said and let out a roar. The cave shook, and dust rained down from the ceiling. The woman trembled, but she remained kneeling. Chirps and flapping sounds echoed throughout the lower levels as the bats fled deeper in. Vur placed Snuffles down and stretched. “I’m hiding from the mean elf ladies. Grimmy said I shouldn’t kill things I wasn’t going to eat, except for humans and demons, but he said I can’t eat or kill elves. This is your home?” Vur’s head swiveled as he looked around. “It looks nice—smaller than my mama’s cave though.”

  The woman looked up and smiled, two fangs glinting in the torch light. “I’m glad you like it,” she said. “Stay as long as you’d like. Could I offer you something to eat or drink?”

  Vur tilted his head. “Why would you do that?”

  “It’s proper manners to offer guests food and drink, no?”

  Vur made a face. “Those elves didn’t have proper manners,” he said. “They tried to feed me dirt and spanked me.”

  The woman blinked. “How old are you?”

  “I’m a dragon,” Vur said and crossed his arms over his chest. “Grimmy said dragons don’t age.” He looked at the woman before sighing and shaking his head.

  The woman’s eye twitched. “Why do you look like … that?” she asked gesturing at him.

  “My papa said I’m not old enough to grow scales and wings yet.”

  “Then that means you can age, right?”

  Vur’s eyebrows bent towards each other, and he tilted his head. His lips curled into a pout. “I’m a dragon.”

  “Okay, okay. Forget I asked,” the woman said with her hand pinching her forehead. “If you’ll excuse me.” The woman stood up, curtsied, and turned to leave.

  “Wait,” Vur said. The woman stopped and turned towards him. “I’m thirsty.”

  A vein bulged on the woman’s forehead as she clenched her fist. She exhaled and said, “I’ll bring you something to drink.”

  A few minutes later, she returned with a golden chalice that had a clear liquid in it. Vur took the chalice from her hand and was about to drink, but the woman grabbed his arm to stop him. “After someone gives you something, you say thank you,” she said.

  “Why? Isn’t me not eating you thanks enough?” Vur asked. “Grimmy says that everyone who is not being eaten by dragons should thank dragons for not eating them.”

  The woman smiled. “Thank you for not eating me. Now you thank me for giving you that drink.”

  Vur frowned and tried to raise
the chalice but found that he couldn’t move his arm. His eyes glowed, but Juliana’s face appeared in his head, and they stopped. He frowned and said, “Thank you for giving me this drink.”

  The woman released his arm and patted his head, ruffling his hair. “That’s a good boy. You can call me Auntie Lindyss.”

  ***

  Rudolph’s face was green as he sat down and gasped for breath. Behind him, Johann was lying on the ground while covering his nose with his paws.

  “Not so easy compared to hitting wooden dolls in the academy, huh?” the warrior leader asked as he leaned against his sword stuck in the ground. Rudolph nodded. A few feet away, there was the corpse of a zombie with no head. The group of guards had let Rudolph lead the expedition, only helping him when he was about to die.

  “I can feel myself getting stronger. It’s amazing, although the smell could be improved,” Rudolph said while scrunching his nose.

  The white mage nodded. “When you kill things that have mana, you get a bit of that power to strengthen your body. Wait until we get back to an adventurers’ guild where you can inspect your stats.”

  Rudolph nodded. He wanted to ask what their levels were, but he knew it would be rude. “Alright, Johann. Let’s kill lots of zombies and level up!” Johann puked out a corpse and shook his head while whimpering. Rudolph sighed and asked, “Why don’t you just bash them with a tree trunk?”

  ***

  A group of demon children were in a cave, stabbing at slimes while working together in groups. Gabriel and Lamach were fighting against a green slime with three eyes.

  “Isn’t this too easy, Gabe?” asked Lamach as he pushed away the slime with his mace.

  Gabriel shrugged and stabbed the slime’s mana core. The core exploded, and the slime evaporated. “It’s supposed to get harder,” he said as he wiped slime juices off his face.

  “Less talky talky, more stabby stabby,” a voice called out. The voices of children soon turned into the sounds of squishing as slimes disappeared left and right.

  “Mr. Doofus, when do we get to actually fight things?” Lamach asked. The surrounding kids stopped and turned towards the big man who was standing at the entrance to the cave illuminated by a yellow glow.

  “When you reach level five. Then we’ll move on to the next floor with bigger slimes,” Doofus said.

  “Ugh, more slimes,” a boy with red hair said. “I don’t think I can eat my mum’s pudding ever again.”

  “Is this not good enough for you? Our ancestors fought a war over this mana source and you want to go somewhere else?” Doofus asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. His face darkened.

  “N-no, no problem, sir. It’s just a little … lame?” the red-headed child replied. A shiver ran down his spine. “Our ancestors fought over a slime spawner?”

  Doofus glared at the boy before letting his arms drop and sighing. “Yeah, I know it’s lame. That’s what I thought too when I first started. But if you keep it up, you might become an SSS-ranked adventurer like me,” Doofus said as he pointed to his face with his thumb and smiled. “And it’s not only slimes. I’m only allowed to let you guys hunt slimes for now.”

  “But humans get to go to actual dungeons for their first time,” Gabriel said. A slime approached him, and he kicked it away with his shoe.

  “Yeah, but you’re not a human,” Lamach said and rolled his eyes.

  Gabriel frowned and stabbed the slime.

  ***

  Lindyss frowned at the naked boy eating a raw bear corpse in her mini-boss room as she sat on a chair made of bones. How did things end up like this? Her basilisk popped its head out from the stairwell and looked at Lindyss and then at Vur and then back at Lindyss again. His eyes asked, “Why is he still here? Where do I sleep?”

  “Hey, Vur, do you know what this is?” Lindyss asked as she pointed at the basilisk.

  Vur looked up and shook his head. He replied while chewing, “He tried to hurt me with his eyes, but then he ran away and played dead.”

  “You shouldn’t talk with food in your mouth,” Lindyss said with a frown. “It’s not polite.”

  Vur tilted his head and continued to chew. “So why did you ask me a question?” he asked.

  Lindyss stared and him before shaking her head. “Never mind,” she said. “In the future, try not to talk with your mouth full. Dragons don’t do that.”

  Vur thought back to all the times he ate with his family and nodded. After he swallowed he said, “Thirsty.”

  Lindyss didn’t move, but she asked, “What’s the magic word?”

  Vur scrunched up his eyebrows and shook his head. “I don’t know the word. I don’t need words though,” he said. His eyes glowed, and a massive amount of water materialized in the air and crashed to the floor, soaking Lindyss and the basilisk. He cupped the water in his hands and drank it before it flooded down the stairwell.

  Lindyss spluttered. “Never do that again!” she said as she coughed out water.

  “Master! What’s going on? Is it storming?”

  “I’m wet. I hate being wet.”

  “Stop touching me with your wet wings. No, I don’t care if you’re drowning!”

  “I’m drowni—glub. M-master, h-help.”

  Snuffles oinked and climbed on top of Vur’s head.

  Lindyss glared at Vur. “Why’d you summon so much if you were only going to drink so little?” she asked as she placed her hand on the surface of the water. A vortex appeared, and after a short while, all the water had vanished into thin air.

  “I don’t know how else to do it,” Vur said and shrugged, his hair still dripping.

  Lindyss sighed and said, “I hope you didn’t dilute my fountain. Who taught you magic?”

  Vur tilted his head. “No one. I just do it,” he said. “I asked Grimmy once, and he told me to do what I felt was nice.”

  Lindyss covered her face with her hands. “I’ll kill Grimmoldesser. I’ll kill him. Just do whatever you feel is nice? That’s the kind of advice given to a child with a near infinite amount of mana?” she mumbled. She glared at Vur. “Right now, you are a disgrace to every magical being in existence. I’ll show you what it really means to be a dragon. Dragons are intelligent, arrogant, greedy, and prideful pieces of shi—not. Pieces of snot. You, you are just a lizard with a really big stick!”

  ***

  Tafel watched as Dustin chanted and summoned thirty earth golems in the field in front of them. “Phew. Alright, Tafel,” Dustin said as he took a deep breath. “You’re going to use these for target practice. They’re fragile in the standard humanoid vital spots. You have half an hour to take out as many as you can.”

  Tafel nodded and began. Fireballs flew through the air and collided with the golems. Thirty minutes later, Tafel was lying on the ground and panting for breath. Six piles of rubble were in the field of golems. Dustin nodded his head and said, “Not too bad for your first try; you need to find the right balance of mana to take them out efficiently.”

  Tafel pursed her lips as Dustin pointed his finger to the sky and built up mana. He lowered his hand and pointed towards the golems. Twenty-four lightning bolts—one for each golem—struck them on the head, reducing them to rubble instantly.

  “Wow,” Tafel said with wide eyes. “That’s amazing! When can I do that?”

  Dustin shook his head. “Any competent mage should be able to do this. I suspect in a few years, you’ll be just as good—if not better,” he said. A wry smile appeared on his lips before he sighed. “I actually met someone whose mastery over magic was far greater than mine.”

  Tafel’s eyebrows raised. “Who was it? How come I’ve never heard of him?”

  Dustin smiled. “It’s actually a her,” he said. “She’s the guardian of the Fountain of Youth.” He raised his head towards the sky and squinted at the clouds. “She stomped our butts and made us cry. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  “How’d you get away if she was stronger than you?”

  “Our beast tamer
raised a basilisk, and we traded it for our lives. He’s retired now; last I heard, he runs a stable in Fuselage,” Dustin said.

  Tafel blinked. “Fuselage? It really exists?” she asked. “How can a town like that not be a fairytale?”

  “Oh, it exists alright. Maybe you’ll see it one day,” Dustin said while smiling. He ruffled Tafel’s hair. “More golems?”

  The demon princess smiled and nodded.

  6

  In a small room with two beds, a snoring woman lay with her arms and legs sprawled out, hanging off the sides of a bed. There was a choking sound, and the snoring stopped. The woman, Sophie, sat up and looked around while wiping the drool off of her mouth. Why didn’t Claire wake me? she thought as she climbed out of bed and slipped on her red robe before entering the washroom. There’s a new wrinkle today, she thought as she glared at her reflection and sighed. She shook her head and washed up before leaving her room, heading down the stairs of the inn.

  “Look who’s finally up,” a voice greeted her when she entered the tavern on the first floor. The voice belonged to a man who was sitting at a table with three other men and a woman. He was wearing a blue chainmail, and his red sword was propped up against the seat beside him. If the king was here, he would recognize the man as the leader of the Red Blade Adventurers.

  “Good morning, Aran,” Sophie said as she sat next to the other woman. She pinched the woman’s waist and asked, “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Claire shrugged. “You sleep like a log,” she said. “And you drooled on my arm when I shook you.”

  “Hey, hey. Don’t ruin our image of her,” one of the men said. He wore a blue bandana.

  Another man wearing a black leather vest smacked his companion’s head. “What image? We’ve already been traveling together for years now,” he said and snorted. “We all know she’s an ogre.”

  Sophie rolled her eyes. “If I’m an ogre, then you’re a troll,” she said and turned her head towards a counter. “Hey, chief! Can I get three drumsticks and a jug of ale over here?”