Chapter 46: Honor duel

Sorix:

I can feel the barrier around the town. I touch it, and then pull back my hand. If I am not careful, I'll burn to a crisp.

What a clever dragon...

I smile wistfully at that. Not only can my dragon pack a punch, but he is also a healer. So, that is another good point towards him. I smile, and then go back towards the forest.

What my dragon doesn't know, is that there is more than one way to skin someone. Yes, it would have been easier for me, if I still had access to the town. But that doesn't matter. I can always smoke them all out.

I empty my bottomless bag from all the corpses I have collected. Some of them are fresh, looking as if asleep. Others barely have any flesh on their bones. Yet, this will suffice.

I gather my mana, and let it seep into the corpses. Soon, they stand up, with an empty look on their faces. I grin at that.

"Go before the gates, and throw yourselves at them," I command them. The barrier was meant to get rid of necromancers, but it has no effect on the undead in general.

I watch, with more than a little satisfaction, as the corpses shamble away. Now, the only thing I need, is a good viewing spot. I choose to turn into black mist, and fly over my army.

The bells begin to ring, as my soldiers begin to throw themselves at the gates. Some still have enough of their former selves in them, to begin to climb them. I wince, as the tar is poured over their heads.

Just to be safe, I go further back. Still, I am in the air, and can easily see the action as it unfolds.

One ogre manages to punch through the gate, only to get a fiery arrow in the eye. Another undead, this time a pixie, manages to fly high enough, so she can reach the defenders.

I chuckle, as she screeches, and then sets the gates on fire. That serves to make her fall apart. I decide to make her sacrifice count, and fan the flames. Some of my undead catch fire, but that doesn't stop them.

The gates open, and my undead are met with dragon fire. I see my dragon in all his glory. He looks as pristine as freshly fallen snow. His golden details make him look aristocratic. I take on my human form, and then take out a dagger.

We stare each other down. Him still letting out a stream of fire, and me admiring him. I wonder where the novice is? Is he so weak, as to let the dragon fight alone?

I suppose he can't get through the barrier. Now is my chance.

I call my undead closer to me, hoping that the dragon will follow. Instead of Givontair taking my bait, he switches to a human form. I wave at him, wanting to show him just how much I have missed him.

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"This is enough," Givontair yells at me, as he takes out a dagger, and points it at me. "I demand an honor duel."

"What are the stakes?" I know only one thing that I will ever ask of him. Nothing else is worth it.

"If I defeat you, then you will stop stealing corpses, and end with doing the bidding of the Dread. If you defeat me, I will come to your side," I lick my lips. Sounds simple enough. There is no way that a dragon, no matter how strong, is going to defeat a Dread Lord.

I make the undead step to the side, in two neat rows. This is all the invitation the dragon needs, to step out of the gates. I smile at him. His eyes remain narrowed.

"Until first blood?" I ask. Yes, I can do much more than that. That doesn't mean I want to hurt the dragon too much. That will just sour our relationship.

"Sounds good enough," he shifts in his dragon form again. I can see that his tail is damaged. Yet, that won't help me much. It will take more than a dagger, for me to draw blood from this dragon. Or, I can simply aim for the eyes? He is a healer. Surely, he can fix even that?

Givontair's mouth opens, and he breathes fire down on me. I turn into black miasma, and fly away from the deadly stream. I fly, so I can be at eye level with him. Yet, as soon as he sees that, he redirects the stream of fire.

I try to get out of the way, but I still end up singed. It hurts, even in this form. My balance is ruined, and I fall down on the ground. Turning back into my human form, I search for any burn marks. More than that, I try to find blood.

My leg is a ruin. My mana tries to close the wound, but there is indeed blood there. I sigh, and hold my hands up.

"I yield," I say. Givontair turns back into his human form. He just stands in his spot, not moving towards me. "It was cheating, when you turned into a dragon."

"Hardly, you used your powers as a Dread Lord as well," Givontair tells me. Finally, he comes to me. He takes one look at the burns, and smiles.

"It is ironic that you got third-degree burns. Considering your actions led to my son getting the same wound," the dragon then looks me in the eyes. "I will need to perform skin graft. From where do you want the healthy skin to be taken?"

I shrug. It is not like my mana won't heal me. Perks of being the champion of the Dread.

"I will be as right as rain by the end of the day. Don't concern yourself with my health," I say. My lovely dragon nods, and then turns around. Before he passes through the gates, he turns around.

"Your stalking and plans to destroy the world are at an end. If you come here again, there better be a good reason for your presence," with these words, he leaves me alone.

I clap my hands, and my corpse army falls on the ground, like puppets with their strings cut. Oh, well. My plan was half-baked anyway. 

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