The trek to the mountain’s summit took far longer than Eni had anticipated. The air grew thin and biting, yet within her, the embers of her newfound resolve still burned white-hot. Soon, she laid eyes upon it—a massive, sprawling nest constructed from jagged rock shards and charred, skeletal tree trunks. Knowing from bitter experience that the dragons of this world were not mere mindless beasts, but cunning and arrogant sovereigns, Eni slowed her pace, treading with calculated silence upon the razor-sharp stones.
However, stealth was never a forte for a Tank clad in enchanted iron. The dragon sensed her presence long before she could close the distance for a dash. With a deafening roar that shook the very foundation of the peak, a yellow-crimson scaled shadow tore itself from the ledge and plummeted directly toward her. Eni didn't panic. She pivoted sharply and began to retreat, attempting to lure the saurian onto a more level plateau below, where it would lose its primary advantage: height and the lethal momentum of a dive.
But the bastard was frighteningly intelligent. The dragon had no intention of descending. He hovered in the air, his massive leathery wings beating a steady, oppressive rhythm, and began to methodically bombard Eni with boulders, ripping them from the mountainside with his talons. The stones whistled through the air, shattering against Eni’s shield with such force that her legs sank knee-deep into the scree, while her enchanted armor erupted in a shower of sparks.
Realizing a frontal assault was impossible, Eni opted for a maneuver. She made a massive detour, sliding almost invisibly through narrow crevices while the dragon was distracted by the dust cloud raised by his own rockfall. After thirty grueling minutes, she found herself fifty meters from the coveted nest. The beast had vanished somewhere above the clouds. Eni’s fingers had almost brushed the edge of the clutch when the air above her literally exploded. In the blink of an eye, the dragon closed the gap, appearing as if from thin air.
Eni recoiled, bracing for a head-on collision, but the lizard’s behavior turned... strange. He didn't breathe fire; he didn't try to disembowel her with his claws. Instead, he began to circle the nest, pointedly ignoring Eni’s presence. He descended brazenly close to her, buffeting her with the stench of sulfur and scorched meat. Eni swung her blade, aiming for the soft joint beneath his belly, but at the last microsecond, the dragon simply soared upward, his tail flicking in a mocking gesture.
He knew. He knew that Eni was stronger now. He knew that her steel would bite through his scales and that her body would endure his flames. He was fucking with her, refusing to expose himself to a fatal counter-strike.
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"You flying rat!" Eni hissed.
She stepped unceremoniously into the center of the nest, hoping that an assault on his property would force him to lose his head in a rage. She began to ostentatiously sweep shimmering scales and rare resources scattered among the bones into her spatial pocket. It worked. The dragon went berserk. A chaotic dance began: he spat fire, trying to smoke her out of his "home," and launched into suicidal lunges, snapping at her shoulders and shield. Eni took the hits, feeling her new strength allow her to stand firm where anyone else would have been reduced to bloody mincemeat.
An hour later, Eni—sooted, furious, and breathing heavily—burst into the Priests' Village. She didn't just walk; she swept through the central street like a fucking hurricane. Catching sight of the very priest who had sent her on this "stroll," she closed the distance in a single burst, seized him by his gold-embroidered collar, and hoisted him off the ground.
"WHAT THE FUCK MADE YOU THINK I COULD KILL IT?!" she screamed directly into his mask, forcing the priest to recoil into his own shoulders. "I ALMOST ADDED MY OWN FUCKING BONES TO HIS HOARD OF GOLD AND WEAPONS!"
The priest trembled, his hands dangling helplessly. "Forgive me... please, forgive me!" he stammered, gasping for air. "But... can you tell me what happened? Describe the battle?"
Eni shook him so hard his teeth rattled. "You think I'm stupid?! I nearly fucking died back there because of your fairy tales about 'weak dragons,' you dim-witted jackass! What kind of quests are these, where you send people to their deaths, huh?! Are you priests or just butchers in service to Nick?!"
The priest suddenly sobbed, and genuine tears began to stream from beneath the golden mask. He spoke in a pleading, cracked voice: "Forgive me, please! I didn't know, nobody knew! I am deeply at fault; I didn't even attempt to learn how powerful or intelligent this dragon was! I’ve only ever seen the Reds, the Greens, the Whites... I have never in my life heard of a Yellow-Crimson existing! It is an anomaly! I am so sorry!"
Eni measured him with a look of pure contempt and tossed him aside like garbage. The priest collapsed into the dust, continuing to wail. "On paper, even I can be a god," she hissed venomously, looming over him. "But YOU... you’ve fallen below the fucking floorboards in my eyes. How the fuck do you work so sloppily that you don't even know the target’s basic specs?! What if I had died?! Would you have just crossed my name off the list and gone to drink your tea?!"
"Forgive me, f-forgive me!" The priest crawled toward her feet, wringing his hands. "I am merely a sentry who relays information! I am not responsible for the system! B-but! As compensation... we will not cast you out! We will even grant you rare resources if... when you defeat him!"
Eni’s eyes narrowed. Her fury was instantly transformed into a cold, calculating greed. "I want artifacts," she threw out snidely, adjusting the hem of her uniform, feeling a dark thrill from the lingering aches of the fight.
"W-what?! Oh... HELL YES, of course! J-just a minute!" The priest scrambled up and, tripping over his own robes, raced toward the treasury.
Eni waited, arms crossed over her chest, feeling her corset habitually constricting her racing heartbeat. Thirty minutes later, the priest returned, carrying a bizarre assortment of items.
There was a feminine gauntlet shimmering with runes, a pair of soft, absurd-looking slippers shaped like fluffy kittens, and a sealed bottle containing a white substance that shifted lazily inside as if it were alive.
"Here... these are from our private reserves," the priest whispered, extending the gifts with trembling hands.
