The fairy dragon scouts returned and one of them pulled out a large, strandvine-canvas map. They began adding, squabbling, and arguing; but after two minutes had produced a map of labyrinthine passages. One of them spoke. “When you get to the end of this tunnel,” he tapped one of the farthest branching paths that suddenly ended. “You get to the edge of the realm. Really pretty beyond that, but scary, too.”

  “Like an ocean of stars!” another one added.

  Tristan nodded. “And you’re sure of the forces coming our way.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Mhmm!”

  “It’s scary how many husks are left.”

  Tristan couldn’t help but agree. Rough numbers were sketched in the different tunnels, and the hostile force came out to around fifteen-thousand combatants. They did not have ranged combatants, from what the fairy dragons could gather. But, there were dragon-like creatures amongst them. I wonder if I’ll be able to consume their blood and crucible if they’re husks? Tristan thought.

  “Krik. What insights do you have?”

  The spriggan Warmaster was silent for a few moments, then his deep voice rumbled out of his enlarged form. “We should maintain our position, but fortify with fallback points.” He glanced back and began barking orders to spriggan, who headed across the large cavern and through the rift. “Go get rocks and wood!” he turned back to Tristan. “I think we should make a bunch of fallback positions; archer towers. Fairy dragons can fly from one to the other to retreat. The rocks and wood can make funnels for the mindless husks. And you can flood and freeze the pathways to make them hazardous.”

  “I approve of this plan.” Tristan looked back to the fairy dragons who were in their cute, deer-fox forms. “Go and keep an eye on the approaching forces. Regular updates, send someone back to tell us about progress.”

  The group of scouts shot off, and Tristan set to work help to fortify the enormous cavern.

  Thirty minutes passed before the scouts returned for the last time. “They’re almost in range!”

  Tristan ran down the line of archers and began empowering their weapons with Elemental Imbuement. A mix of water and lightning elementalism, in pairs. The plan was that the one with a water-imbued weapon would shoot first, followed by their fellow using lightning. Then, they could rotate. He looked back across the cavern. Thanks to the efforts of the spriggan and their ability to change size with the item in Krik’s possession, they had created a maze. Rocks that went up to chest height and formed an intricate series of corridors that led in a confusing loop. A full-on maze, that Tristan had flooded and frozen over; complete with frozen spikes that would hamper movement and cause injury. Additionally, large towers had been erected and shaped with flora spells.

  As fairy dragons could fly, and Tristan could be carried by a few of them working in tandem, they would be able to fall back once a position was overrun and keep firing. To that end, every tower was stocked with more quivers of arrows.

  “Knock and loose at will!” Tristan shouted as he activated Elemental Imbuement – Multi in one of the scales on his cloak, nocked an arrow, and let loose. The tingling of lightning against his cheek from the shot faded rapidly, and his bolt slammed into one of the creatures, driving deep before gushing with water and jolting with lightning. The creature locked up and let out a silent scream. And yet, it was only one of thousands. A huge, shambling horde that moved forward in a conglomerated mess.

  Fairy dragons in their tandem groups nocked and loosed, over and over, in perfect synchronization with their partner but dissonant from the other pairs. Rows of hostile husks fell, and yet more kept coming. Closer and closer. Tristan saw a glint of something deep and red, and Lucky Instinct screamed at him to duck. He did so, and watched as a black and red bolt of light shot right through where he had been standing. “They have ranged capabilities!” he shouted.

  The round impacted the still-enormous Krik, who was standing behind the fortification. It blasted a hole through his shoulder pauldron; instantly disintegrating what was touched before stopping – the beam did not go past him. He shrank immediately to his normal size.

  “Are you okay?” Tristan shouted over his shoulder as he tried to find where the round came from.

  “I’ll be fine!” Krik shouted back, his deep voice rumbling with anger. “We didn’t account for this. Prepare to retreat!”

  Tristan partly agreed, but then an idea hit him. He ducked down behind the parapet and looked at the inside of his cloak. “Perfect! Everyone, get ready!” He spun his crucible, pouring essence into one of the scales that was marked with the smoke elementalism spell Smoke Sight. Standing up, Tristan ran down the line and repeated the First Order spell over and over, tapping the shoulders of fairy dragons as he drained his essence to imbue each of them. The whole while, he was dodging that black and red beam that kept firing, seemingly focused on him, and not aiming at the archers. But, he could not see what was firing it.

  Then, Tristan stopped at the end of the line. He held his hand up to the front of his helmet, index finger and thumb formed into a ring, with the others in line with his index finger. He pushed essence into his mouth as he spoke. “The power I took from you is now mine to wield, and it response to my call! Feel its wrath fall upon you!” A massive cone of smoke billowed forth and hung in place, completely blocking off sight of the parapet top. The black-red beam fired up, over Tristan’s head.

  The fairy dragon archers were unaffected, and they continued their assault. Tristan joined them, letting loose arrow after arrow. After ten seconds, the smoke cloud dissipated, and Tristan ducked once more as that black and red glow lit up in the distance. But, he saw what it was that originated it, and his blood raced through his veins. He felt the hunt-urge as the husk he had seen was a dragon. A slimy one, to be sure, that looked just as horrible as the mind dragon he had slain. But this one was covered in deep, black scales with crimson in between the lines. It had no wings, and instead crawled along the ground like a snake with legs.

  “Krik! Dragon spotted!” Tristan shouted as he popped back up. “And they’re almost at the wall!”

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  “Keep firing until they break through,” Krik shouted back as the spriggan moved back to the next tower, easily navigating the ice and sharp spikes.

  Tristan followed Krik’s instructions, but the hunt urge was strong, and his blood sang to him, encouraging him to fight. Driving him on. He grit his teeth and pushed back the urge with all the might he could muster, and turned to face two fairy dragons. “Fly me to the next tower.” They both sprouted their usual wings, grabbed him, and flew him over to the large edifice. From his new vantage point, he could still shoot at the foes coming down the tunnel, but he could not see them slam into the wall.

  He saw the wall shift and move under the weight of the assaulting force, and fairy dragons fled as one, flying back to a series of towers. The wall buckled and snapped, with the shambling monstrosities breaking through and moving along the sharpened ice, losing bits and pieces of themselves as they dragged their grotesque forms over the hazards meant to slow them down. They followed the layout of the rock maze, but a few burst through and into the watery pools that Tristan had set up just for that purpose.

  He pivoted and activated Elemental Imbuement on his weapon, letting loose with lightning arrows that slammed into the water and jolted those creatures. It was in a thin enough layer that the single arrow was enough to shock the whole expanse for a few moments, the yellow lightning flickering across the surface. The mindless husk seemed to have some level of survival instinct, as it moved back onto the provided path.

  Tristan felt that tingling on the back of his neck and spotted the red and black glow again. He dodged to his left as a beam shot through where he had been, and heard a scream of pain as a fairy dragon lost an arm – the limb turned to ash and dust. The fairy dragon reverted to his deer-fox form and flew off to the Fey Realm rift, and Tristan felt a pang of sorrow for the injury. But, also knew it could be cured. “Don’t lose heart!” he shouted as he turned and aimed at the dragon, that hunt urge pulsating in his chest even stronger. He fired arrows into the thing, but the form only looked at him with those empty, dull red eyes; mouth open, as the red and black light built up in the back of its throat.

  Tristan poured essence into his bow, activating Frost Flurry and allow the projectile to grow to a large size – easily the equivalent of a merchant’s cart. He let loose, and the bolt of ice flew true, slamming into the creature’s throat and ripping its head in half. And yet the bead of red and black fired out, boring a hole through the icicle, and Tristan barely dodged it. He let out a hiss of pain as the edge of his helmet was grazed and disintegrated, and the tip of one of his ears was caught in the beam.

  That triggered the hunt-urge even stronger. Almost instinctively, he looped the bow over his shoulder and prepared to jump down to fight the thing. But hands grabbed him, and voices spoke to him. Fairy dragons, who must have seen the change in his body language.

  “Don’t do that.”

  “You can’t jump into the middle of all of them!”

  Krik’s voice boomed out from another tower. “Stick to the plan!”

  Tristan fought against instinct and the words of those he put himself in charge of. The two forces of his bloodline and higher, rational thought fighting against one another. But the hunt-urge was strong. Too strong for him to resist, given how much dragon blood he had consumed, how many essence crucibles he had devoured. He curled his legs under him and jumped up. “I will glide on these mighty wings!” The spectral dragon wings unfurled, and he made a beeline for the still-surrounded, still-head-exploded dragon. He drew his sword as he descended, and folded the spectral wings in as he did the roll he had practiced in the Fey Realm to dodge another beam.

  Essence at under half. I can’t use all of the Aspect of the dragon spells. He activated the stored Greater Invisibility spell in the dagger on his hip, and poured essence into his blade to activated Dragon’s Doom. The dragon kept tracking him, despite his invisibility and its lack of a head, but the other monstrosities that had seemed to look up at him waiting for him to land instead continued their journey into the maze of towers and arrows.

  Tristan landed next to the creature, and black tendrils whipped out of its body, seemingly growing from little nodules where it might have once had scales. He expertly deflected the blows and struck back in kind, his blade cutting deep. He had no clue where the heart was on this thing, but that hunt-urge pushed him on to consume it. Drink its blood and devour its crucible. Defeat it. Show his dominance. He was the arch dragon of the Fey Realm. That thought almost made him pause, but he was wholly focused on the conflict before him.

  One of the tendrils slipped past his deflecting defenses and hit his armor. Where it touched, his armor began to dissolve to dust. I can’t let it hit me. He drew his dagger and held it in a reverse grip, using the blade to parry strikes. The weapon seemed to be resistant, whereas the armor was not. His sword was the same – able to strike the thing’s flesh without being damaged. Tristan assumed it was the unique alloy that caused it.

  The creature wheeled to face him, and the huge beam flashed out. Tristan barely ducked in time as the beam shot over him in a big, looping arc. He stood up and stabbed down the throat, his elongated blade piercing something deep within that surged black blood forth. Tristan let his helmet recede and caught some of the substance in his mouth, swallowing it down. It tasted bitter, like sea water, and he almost retched. But, he kept it down, and kept parrying strikes of the tendrils. His weapon was able to cut through them, but they grew back.

  It has to run out of essence for this regeneration eventually, Tristan thought through the haze of the hunt-urge. That bead of red and black reappeared in the blasted remnants of the throat, and Tristan had an idea. He lopped off a tendril, tossed his dagger into the air, and put his hand up to his mouth. “The power I took from you is now mine to wield!” A blast of lightning shot out from just in front of his mouth. His Breath Weapon – minor sent a surge down the body of the creature, and he snatched the dagger out of the air as it dropped down; perfectly in time to parry another tendril.

  The form of the creature locked up, and Tristan moved to its center along the side, carving down the middle with four brutal, overhand chops. The creature was fully bisected, and he saw the still-pulsating heart in the front half. He quickly stabbed at the vital organ, and watched with satisfaction as the body went limp. He crouched and sucked down as much of the blood as he could, filling himself fully until his stomach felt like bursting.

  Then, he stood up, wiped his mouth, and made the gesture for Drain Dragon with his sword and dagger still held in his hands. “Mighty beast which now lies slain, I take from you what you can no longer use and is mine by right of conquest.” He saw his silvery essence flow out over the creature, and then recede. But the burst of essence he expected did not greet him. Instead, he felt empty. Hollow. Must not have a crucible anymore because it is a husk. Well, I got its blood. He quickly grabbed one of the airtight vials the gnomes had quickly crafted, and scooped some of the blood up. Easily a pint. Enough for a few people. He capped the object and put it into a hip pouch.

  Tristan looked up and saw that two of the towers had been decimated, and the horde had gone past him; despite his blood-covered form. He dropped the invisibility and walked forward, brandishing both weapons as he tore into the rear of the forces, carving his way through the maze with ruthless efficiency. Every strike of his blade led to death, and every foe who tried to hit him was parried before being riposted. He was a primal tempest of blade and muscle. Every foe died with a single blow, and before he had even broken a sweat, he had reached the final tower and slaughtered the foes arrayed at its base.

  He was sucking in deep breaths and felt a bit of exhaustion, but was still fairly hale. He looked up at the fairy dragons. “We won! Tell The Matriarch, we graft the realm!” A fairy dragon transformed and flew off. Tristan sheathed his blades and quickly cast Aspect of the dragon – claws, using the alteration to clamber up the side of the tower and scrabbling on top. “Someone help me fly back home.”

  ??

  Dice Detected: High-Roller Story Ahead

  Progression Fantasy GameLit Light LitRPG

  Cursed. Royal. …Currently unemployed.

  Princess Seventra of House Veil was once the kingdom’s most notorious gambler—until a bitter rival framed her for cheating and her family cast her aside like a bad habit. Now she’s exiled, bitter, and desperate for revenge.

  But Seven isn’t done playing. When she traces her rival to Lucky Mining Corporation, a corrupt corporate empire of contracts, greed, and dice shards, Seven takes a job there to find evidence to clear her name. Beneath the gold lies something darker—vanished miners, buried magic, and a conspiracy that ties back to her own bloodline.

  Armed with a gambling problem, a wise-cracking slime, and a lawyer-turned-miner, she’s ready to play dirty. But the deeper she digs, the clearer it becomes: her curse isn’t a flaw—it’s a weapon.

  And if fate won’t play fair, she’ll load the dice herself.

  “When the odds are rigged, rig them back.”