Reinforcements

“It’s no use, it’s no use, I really can’t do this...” The silhouette on the far right kept crying, trembling slightly.

“Don’t be scared,” the one on the left said in a cheerful tone. “That idiot Elivan insisted on playing the lone wolf. He got what he deserved.”

The one in the middle said nothing. He simply stood there, his gaze falling upon the unconscious Isabella cradled in Leopold’s arms.

The one on the right was still shaking, crouching on the ground with his hands clutching his head. “Ugh... I don’t want to fight... I want to go home...”

“Sigh!” The one on the left sighed and tilted his head to look at Leopold. “My dear Black Dragon, please don’t mind him. He’s a bit touched in the head. But then again, so am I, right?”

Leopold said nothing. He stood in place, cradling the unconscious Isabella in his arms as golden blood dripped from his chin, splashing onto the rubble of the ruins.

What should he do? He was completely cornered.

In the end, he had been too reckless, rashly barging into the enemy’s stronghold without being fully prepared...

“Damn it, why?!” Leopold glared fiercely at the trio.

“How scary!” the one on the left replied with a laugh. “But you don’t have to worry. Now that Lord Elivan is dead, His Majesty Thranduil’s orders for us have automatically updated—from ‘assist’ to ‘clean up.’”

“Pretty considerate, isn’t it?”

“It’s no use...” the one on the right was still trembling. “I really can’t do this...”

The one in the middle remained silent, his expression obscured by the darkness. However, he seemed to be looking up at the sky.

Could it be?

“Leo!” Blake’s voice echoed from high above. “Are you guys okay?”

Leopold looked up. A grayish-blue figure was diving down from the gaping hole blasted open at the top of the mine shaft. Wait... who was that on his back? Oliver?

“Mr. Blake... please slow down...” Oliver’s voice drifted down from mid-air, trembling slightly. “I... I’m not ready yet...”

“Shut up!” Without looking back, Blake tucked his wings in and dove down with Oliver, snapping his wings open only when they were less than three meters from the ground.

Oliver tumbled off Blake’s back, landing flat on his back on the ground.

“I’m alive... Fantastic. It’s the ground. I’ve missed this stable feeling so much...”

The three figures stood at the edge of the roof, looking down at the battered group from their vantage point.

The gaze of the silent one in the middle fell upon Oliver, who had just crashed onto the ground.

“...A half-elf?”

The one on the left clapped his hands cheerfully. “Wow, it really is! I’ve never seen a living half-elf before! I heard you guys are all pitiful wretches kicked out by the elves?”

“It’s no use, I can’t do this...”

“Blake,” Leopold said, his voice raspy as he cradled Isabella. “How many can you handle?”

Blake had already stepped in front of Leopold, his grayish-blue wings half-spread as his slitted pupils locked onto the three figures on the roof. “Facing three at once is a bit troublesome, but buying time shouldn’t be a problem.”

“No.” Leopold shook his head. “You can’t. They have resistance to dragon magic.”

“—What did you say?” Blake snapped his head around, his grayish-blue slitted pupils contracting sharply. “Resistance? What kind of resistance?”

“Resistance to dragon magic,” Leopold said calmly. “When Bella and I hit them with our magic, the effect was less than a tenth of what it usually is.”

“That Elivan earlier... Bella’s Holy Light hit him head-on, and he only suffered superficial wounds.”

Blake’s expression shifted. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then whipped his head back toward the three figures on the roof. “...Which means my freezing dragon breath is also—”

“Most likely useless,” Leopold said.

On the roof, the one on the left chuckled. “Oh my, we’ve been found out. How clever, Mr. Black Dragon!”

“Ugh... Don’t fight... Don’t hit me...” the one on the right was still crying.

Leopold did not reply. He sat slumped on the ground, cradling the unconscious Isabella in his arms as golden blood dripped onto the rubble.

His mind was racing, but his physical exhaustion made it almost impossible to concentrate.

Just then, a hand gently tugged at the corner of his clothes.

“...Um.”

Leopold looked down.

“Um... their resistance is one-way, right?” Oliver whispered, clutching the edge of Leopold’s shirt, his voice as quiet as a mosquito’s buzz. “Like... it’s against dragons, but... other races shouldn’t be affected...”

“...That’s correct.” Leopold nodded. “Mr. Oliver, your observation is indeed sharp.”

Blake took a step forward, snapping his wings open to shield Leopold and Oliver behind him.

“You two, stop dawdling. Oliver, didn’t you say you could help if we brought you along?”

The three figures on the roof seemed to lose their patience and leaped down together.

“Ugh... I don’t want to fight... I really don’t want to fight...” The one on the right was still crying, but he had already stood up, gripping a short-handled dagger in each hand.

The one on the left casually stretched his neck. “Well, we have no choice. A mission is a mission, after all.”

The one in the middle remained silent.

“Blake,” Leopold said in a low voice. “Don’t fight them head-on. Just stall them.”

“I know.” Blake’s tone was heavier than usual. He didn’t look back. “Take Isabella and fall back. Oliver, you back up too.”

“That’s not it... Mr. Blake, actually, I...”

“No time for chatter! Fall back!”

Without waiting for them to get to safety, Blake opened his mouth and unleashed a freezing dragon breath. The icy blast struck exactly where the three goblins stood, instantly erupting into countless icicles.

But as the icy mist cleared, the three goblins stood unharmed, with only a thin layer of frost dusting their bodies. The one on the left even brushed the ice shards off his shoulders as easily as if he were dusting off dirt.

“...As expected, it’s useless.” Blake’s pupils contracted slightly.

The one on the left tilted his head. “Oh my, so cold, so cold! Mr. Blue Dragon’s frost is truly impressive.”

“You bastard, stop disgusting me!” Blake was absolutely infuriated by the goblin on the left.

The one on the left tilted his head, the smile on his face widening. “Disgusting? Oh my, I’m praising you in all sincerity.”

With a powerful flap of his wings, Blake transformed into a grayish-blue blur and lunged forward!

He abandoned his ranged freezing dragon breath. Since magic was ineffective, he would use his claws, his teeth, and his tail—the weapons dragons were born with.

The one on the left chuckled as he sidestepped the first claw strike. “So scary, so scary! Mr. Blue Dragon is really fierce!”

Blake didn’t reply. His tail swept out with a howling wind, aiming for the other’s waist. But with a light tap of his toes, the goblin dodged, and Blake’s tail struck empty air, plowing a deep trench into the rubble.

The one on the right was still crying, but the moment Blake drew near, the weeping abruptly stopped.

Two short daggers thrust out simultaneously from both sides at lightning speed. Blake barely had time to react; he twisted his body forcefully, but the edge of his left wing was sliced open, splashing blue dragon blood onto the rubble.

“...Your crying is an act?” Blake narrowed his eyes.

“Ugh... It’s real... I’m really scared...” The one on the right gripped his daggers, tears still streaming down his face.

“Fuck!” Blake cursed. But while his attention was entirely focused on the two goblins in front of him, he failed to notice that the silent one in the middle had already appeared behind him!

Magic was slowly gathering in the middle goblin’s hands. Blake’s life hung by a thread!

It was over. Blake’s body was still twisting to the left from momentum, his center of gravity completely thrown off! He couldn’t possibly mount a defense in time!

“...Tsk.”

He closed his eyes, bracing himself to take the hit.

Clang!

A golden defensive barrier silently expanded.

Oliver stood timidly in place, his hand raised and his fingertips trembling slightly.

“Um, Mr. Blake, actually... I know a little bit of magic.”