TTDBK 03

Episode 3.

It was hard to tell how many days had passed since Baberi was dragged back to the Kingdom of Tiris, but being carted around like baggage at the hands of soldiers had driven her fury to its peak.

“You’d have to be out of your mind to treat me like this!”

Bound hand and foot, Baberi thrashed against her restraints.

“If you’re really human, that is. Or did Glock lose not only his hair but also his humanity along with it? Huh?”

“Are you mocking His Majesty?!”

The king’s knights roared, eyes blazing at her insolence. One even raised his hand as though to strike her down.

“And what if I am? Don’t like it?”

Baberi held her head high, defiant even in the face of their threats. Blind with rage, she had no fear left.

“Then punish me for lèse-majesté if you dare!”

Neither the crime of insult nor the wrath of the royal knights frightened her. She had been born under the stigma of treason. What was one more charge on the pyre?

“Well? Why don’t you do it already? Chop my head off for mocking your king!”

Bloodshot eyes blazing, she shouted at them.

“I did your filthy work—I killed that dragon no one else could kill—and what did you bastards do to me afterward?!”

King Glock had promised her absolution and riches if she succeeded in slaying the dread wyrm. Instead, he gave her nothing.

Worse—he exiled her from Tiris.

“Ever heard of Korea? Of course not. Neither had I, until he cast me out into that place!”

The faces of Yoo Chaelin and little Kongddeok flashed in her mind.

Wake up early, she had said, we’re going to the weekend farm. And afterward, I’ll buy you tteokbokki. Her sister’s voice echoed painfully in her head.

“I was finally ready to give up and make a life there. But after throwing me away, you drag me back? What for—another dragon showed up, so I should ‘take responsibility’ and kill it again?”

Her teeth ground together in wrath.

“It’s because you didn’t finish the job properly the first time, you useless woman!” sneered one knight, glaring down at her in contempt.

Baberi’s eyes bulged in disbelief.

No one could kill a dragon. No weapon, no magic ever pierced its hide.

Only the Ballista—an ancient weapon passed solely through the House of Ranks—could bring one down.

And aside from Baberi, every last Ranks had perished for treason. She alone remained, the sole person in existence capable of slaying the undefeatable.

“To say I’m useless… when I should be revered as your salvation?”

Her laughter was harsh and bitter.

“Then why don’t you kill the dragon, if you’re so mighty!”

Those very knights had nearly become dragon fodder themselves—she had saved their lives, only for them to repay her with this betrayal. Her eyes gleamed with manic outrage.

“Go on then. Hang me from a cliff, torture me however you like. I won’t kill another dragon. Do it yourselves!”

“You dare refuse His Majesty’s command?”

Their voices rose, but their courage faltered. They had thought a little intimidation would bend her to their will. Instead, her rebellion struck terror into them.

“Then roast alive in dragonfire for all I care! The white lizard will be licking his chops!”

She could see the dawning fear in their eyes, and she laughed—loud and unnerving—feeding their dread.

“Tell your king: I’ll be dragon feed before I serve him again!”

“You insolent wench—!”

One knight’s hand shot up to strike her—but a vast shadow swept across them.

Not a bird. Larger than a cloud, moving too swiftly. Both the knights and Baberi looked up.

A monstrous silhouette soared overhead, loosing a deafening roar.

“A dragon!”

Panic seized the knights. The sight of vast wings slicing the skies above the gorge scattered them like frightened animals.

“Hey! If you’re going to run, at least untie me first!”

Hands bound with rope, feet shackled with iron chains, no weapon, no armor—Baberi was trapped in the worst possible state to fight or flee. She bit her lip hard.

The dragon circled high above, its massive shadow sweeping over her.

“Shit. So much for revenge. Looks like I’ll die before that bald bastard does.”

Dragging her chained legs, she crawled between two boulders to hide. Moments later came the heavy thud of the dragon landing in the gorge.

She clenched her eyes shut. Footsteps approached—human footsteps. Baberi held her breath. Then the sound ceased.

Good. He can’t find me. Go on, fly away. There are plump, juicy knights nearby—you’ll like them better.

“Ranks. I know you’re there. Come out.”

“Damn it! I knew I shouldn’t have tempted fate!”

Baberi cursed.

Of course the great wyrm would have keen senses. Or perhaps he had already spotted her from the sky. Sight, smell, instinct—truly the pinnacle of creation. Bravo.

She grumbled inwardly, wriggling to crawl out—but she had wedged herself too tightly. She was stuck.

“Ranks.”

The dragon stepped into view before her, now in human form. Silver hair cascading to his chest, cold blue eyes that dismissed all creation as beneath him. It was unmistakably Kur—the same dragon she had fought two years ago.

But she had dealt him a mortal wound. How was he standing here whole?

Shit. This was bad.

Baberi sucked in a deep breath through her nose, exhaled slowly from her mouth.

Stay calm. At her best she had barely brought him down. Now, shackled and battered, she wouldn’t last a heartbeat. To fight was to die like a fool.

Think, Baberi. Think.

“…What are you doing?”

Kur frowned at her, still lodged between the rocks.

“Have you chosen that crevice as your new home? Suits you—small and petty, just like your heart.”

Oh, how she longed to fire another Ballista bolt straight into his smug mouth.

Instead, she forced a smile. Her eyes went half-lidded, gaze languid as she looked at him.

“Kur, my lord.”

“…Why do you say my name in such a nauseating way?”

He recoiled, disgust plain in his eyes. She ignored it, dripping with mock sweetness.

“As dragon to human, might I beg one small favor, Lord Kur? Pull me out of here.”

“What?”

“I’m stuck.”

Kur’s piercing gaze traveled up and down her body. At last, realization struck—she truly was wedged fast. He blinked, incredulous.

“This is the so-called Dragon Slayer who once struck me down? Pathetic.”

“Oh, what a silver tongue you have, Lord Kur.”

Her voice was flat, lifeless.

“Anyway, just once—help me out. Please?”

She winked at him boldly. Shamelessly, she feigned familiarity with the dragon himself. Surely he wouldn’t eat her on the spot. Free her first—then she could find a way to escape.

“This is the plea of my life, Lord Kur. Surely we’re close enough for that?”

She fluttered her lashes, scheming her getaway in the back of her mind.

But Kur turned away with chilling indifference.

“Not if you keep doing… that.”

That? He meant her winks. This heartless creature had no appreciation for charm. Well—he was a dragon, after all.

Scowling, she dropped the act, opening her eyes fully. Kur glanced back at her once more.

“Baberi Ranks.”

Arms folded, standing at an angle, he looked down at her in silence. His eyes were calculating, as though weighing some unspoken thought.

“I’ve been searching for you. But every human I asked claimed to know nothing of your whereabouts…”

“Is this going to be a long story?”

She cut him off impatiently. Blood had stopped circulating in her arm, and the numbness was spreading.

“Can’t you free me first, and then talk?”

“When someone speaks, you listen. You’ve never had the posture of a listener.”

“And you’ve never been human, yet here you are lecturing me like one…” she muttered.

He shot her a reptilian glare—sharp enough to flay skin. She sighed in defeat.

“Fine. I’ll listen. Yes, Lord Kur. Just… keep it brief, please.”

Feigning patience, she smiled, though inside she was cursing.

“I heard you received no reward for becoming a Dragon Slayer. Among humans you’re revered as a continental hero, yet in truth—you were exiled.”

What, was he her stalker now? How did he even know that?

Still, she kept a pleasant smile and nodded.

“That’s right. Banished to a place so far away, even dragon wings could never reach it.”

Because of him.

The thought of Glock sent blood rushing to her head again. She would make him pay—she would see him bald, bleeding, and broken.

“Baberi Ranks,” Kur said, his eyes narrowing with predatory intent, “don’t you want revenge on Glock?”

The words jolted her—had she spoken aloud?

But no. Her hatred must have been plain as day.

Still, she did not answer. She could not guess at his intent. Why else would he seek her out? Surely he desired vengeance of his own—for the Ballista bolt she had driven into him.

“Do you want revenge?” he pressed.

Her gaze sharpened. His jaw was set tight, like a man restraining fury.

“And what would you do with my answer?” she asked warily.

His eyes bore into hers, cold and slow.

“Form an alliance with me,” Kur said. “Do that—and I’ll kill Glock for you.”