Hi all, quick pre-chapter announcement to explain absences and so forth.
So, I've been sick. Like. For the past five days missing work kind of sick, and I haven't done much writing or really felt up to editing the backlog I do have to post here. Professional? No. But here we are.
To combat this I'm dropping down to three days a week, so Monday-Wedesday-Friday. Also, no more Patreon pushes.
Enjoy the chapter.
Upon waking up, Arthur had expected to find himself in a familiar office with Epyrth sitting behind her desk, scowling and demanding to know what was going on.
He turned out to be half right. The office he found himself in was indeed familiar. However, it wasn’t the goddess’s. Nor was it Epyrth who sat behind the desk in the dusty, boarded-up room he’d visited in his dream.
It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the single candle that sat on the desk, its light illuminating the dust that floated through the air. When it did, he focused on the dragon sitting in the room’s sole chair, steepling his fingers.
The gray-scaled dragon was dressed in the clothes of a stereotypical nerdy secretary. A white shirt and suspenders fought to restrain his chubby body. Under his double chin, he wore a large red bow tie, and thick-framed glasses that magnified his black eyes sat on his scaled nose.
Arthur didn’t need to have met the dragon before to know who this was with absolute certainty—Wilth.
With a quick glance around, he checked to see if there was anyone else in the room with them. He saw no one. But he knew enough about the demon’s invisibility to not feel totally comfortable with that. His eyes tracked the way the dust moved, but he couldn’t see any movement that appeared strange. Nor was he becoming irrationally angry.
All good signs that Rathnil’s pet experiments weren’t present.
The door and windows still had boards over them, he noted as he gripped the scale and briefcase tighter to him. It made him wonder how Wilth had gotten in. Teleportation, he decided as he thought about it. Probably similar to the mall’s security.
That would be a good way not to leave a trace as well. As Epyrth’s personal secretary, he wouldn’t want to be caught walking around such a place.
With his examination complete, Arthur turned his full attention to Wilth. With his scale color, the dragon appeared to blend into the darkness that pooled behind him. It would have been menacing if it wasn’t for the costume.
"You must be Wilth?" He asked, trying to sound polite. "Pydes mentioned you."
Wilth nodded before answering, his fat cheeks wobbling. When he answered, it was in a high-pitched voice with a nasally undertone. It was so stereotypical that Arthur would have bet half his hoard on it being fake. That didn’t stop it from grating at his ears and making him wince.
"I am. You must be Arthur. The one who keeps causing the goddess trouble."
"I’m simply trying to make the best of my situation. Where is Epyrth? Pydes was sure that what I had access to would be of personal interest to her." Arthur’s eyes flicked down at the scale that remained clutched in his hand.
As he looked back up, he could tell Wilth was watching it as well.
"She doesn’t need to be bothered about something like that," Wilth said as he reached out her hand. "As her personal secretary, I would be more than willing to hold on to that and make sure she gets it at a more appropriate time."
"I’d rather give it to her myself."
As he spoke, he placed the briefcase down and flicked it open to deposit the scale. From across the desk, Wilth made a strange growling sound. Once he finished putting the scale away, Arthur leaned on his cane. He wanted to project a casual air even as his insides twisted with apprehension.
"If you give it to me, I’ll keep your name out of it as a favor. You don’t want her to know you’ve been poking around areas you shouldn’t be, do you?" Wilth’s tone was imploring, even as he rose to his feet.
Arthur could see he had small, stubby wings poking from his back. He wondered if such a thing could honestly help him fly.
"Why would you want to do me a favor? What about Pydes? Why not let his messages about Rathnil’s activities go through?"
Heat blossomed in his throat when Wilth let out an unpleasant giggle. The sound grated at his ears as the dragon’s body jiggled. He was smiling wide enough to distort his face. Arthur took a step back, raising his cane up from the ground.
"Rathnil?" Wilth was almost breathless from laughter. "Is that what he told you his name was? Well. I told him to pick a new one before he tried to continue his experiments. To answer your question, though, I’m stopping them because the goddess doesn’t need to know about it. Such information would only cause her distress. Stop. Trying."
"Experiments? The ones about her divinity?" Arthur asked.
Wilth shook his head. "Clever, but I’m not going to monologue at you. Hand me the scale. You can’t get to her with it. You know that now. What’s the point of keeping it?"
"No," Arthur said as he backed up.
Heat flooded his limbs, and they started shaking as though buckets of adrenaline had flooded them. A war raged within him as he tried to pick one of two outcomes—run or fight. As he looked around, he realized there was no place to run. Wilth took a step around the table with a hand outstretched.
"I’m not really asking Arthur. This is bigger than you. You have no idea the work that I’ve put in. Stop asking questions and give me the scale."
Arthur looked him dead in the eye, the heat burning up his insides like a furnace. He didn’t know why the dragon magic was on him now, nor did he care. Instead, he let it rage through him as he looked at words and delivered his answer in a roar.
"No."
***
He didn’t give Wilth time to process the sudden change in his mood.
With a power infused lunge, he shot forward and swung his cane through the air. A part of him expected it to break across the dragon’s scales like his last one. It didn’t. Instead, Wilth stumbled back with an audible grunt of pain.
"How dare you?" Wilth spat before he tossed a clumsy punch at Arthur’s face.
The broad fist missed as he sidestepped the fairly slow attack. Whatever Wilth was doing, learning to fight wasn’t one of them. Not that Arthur believed himself to be an expert. As quickly as he could, he brought his cane down onto the dragon’s arm.
Wilth let out a cry and cradled his arm as he stepped back. Arthur took full advantage of the newly created space to look for a way out. His only genuine option was the boarded-up door. It would be difficult, but if he could get some time, that was an obstacle he could bypass.
He didn’t get more time to think as Wilth ran at him. Arthur stepped to the side once more, smacking the dragon on the back as he went by. Another yell told him he’d hit his mark. Without waiting to see the damage, he moved to the door. His attacker would limit his time and chances to get this done, he knew, so he needed to act fast.
The locks opened with his click, and he stuck his hand in to pull out the item he needed—a vial of Multipup acid. He tossed the vial at the lock, watching as the acid ate away at it before he picked his briefcase back up. The speed impressed him. However, he didn’t get enough time to watch it go.
Thuds from behind told him Wilth was running at him. This time he didn’t sidestep fast enough, and the dragon grabbed him. Thick arms squeezed around his stomach, and he gasped for breath. In front of him, the acid ate through the door.
An idea came to mind.
"Hey," he said, trying not to let Wilth hear his gasps for air. "Is this all you got?"
"Shut up and give me the scale. I’ll kill you," Wilth cried into his ear.
His voice was so much worse when up close. Arthur winced and struggled as the dragon held him tight.
"Oh please. Better than you have tried."
He did his best to sound as smug as he could, to infuriate the dragon who grabbed him. From the way his breathing changed, Arthur knew he’d succeed.
"Fine!"
Wilth charged them forward. Arthur squeezed his eyes shut and hoped his plan would work the way he thought it should. To his relief, it did. With a mighty crash, the door broke as Wilth mashed Arthur’s face into it. Splinters dug into his skin, and he choked on the dust as they fell forward.
He slipped out of the dragon’s grip as they collapsed onto the carpeted hallway. His briefcase and cane lay nearby, and he snatched them up as he limped away from the dragon. The heat burning through him kept him upright.
Arthur knew he needed to find someone to help. Anyone. Wilth wouldn’t want to be discovered hanging about in a restricted area with someone who shouldn’t even be in the building. It would be an awful look. There would be too many questions that would be difficult to avoid.
A glance around saw the dragon covered in dust and door parts glaring at him. His glasses lay nearby, his lenses cracked, and his bowtie hung crooked. He hadn’t stood up; instead, he simply lay there, glaring.
"You think you’re clever, don’t you?" He growled. "This won’t help you. Not against me. She won’t ever hear of this."
"She will if I get to her myself." Arthur turned and started limping away as quickly as he could.
An annoyed grunt sounded as he heard Wilth struggle to his feet behind him. He upped his pace as best he could. It wasn’t fast, and he needed to use his cane to support himself. That didn’t stop him from trying as he moved through the barren corridor in what he hoped was the right direction.
From the uneven thumping footsteps, it appeared the tumble through the door didn’t leave his pursuer unscathed, either. Athur tried not to smile as he dragged himself forward. The chase was on.
***
As the two of them limped and shuffled down the hallway, Arthur reflected on chases he’d read about in the past.
They were epic things, with lots of twists and turns and snappy dialogue. Heroes would parkour over buildings as the bad guys tossed insults and fired bullets. Wilth did neither. The dragon simply continued to drag himself after Arthur, his breathing loud.
"Give me the scale!"
"No!" Arthur tried to yell as loud as he could in the hopes that someone would hear him.
However, the longer he moved through the corridor, the more those hopes burned away. He couldn’t detect a single sign of life other than Wilth behind him. Boards covered doors and windows, and the carpet was dusty. The scent of must and mold filled his mouth with every gasping breath.
On the walls, he could see marks where people had removed paintings or maybe posters. Either way, the message of abandonment was obvious.
"Help!" He called out, coughing as he did so.
Behind him, he heard Wilth cursing his name as the thudding got louder. A quick look over his shoulder showed the dragon gaining speed even with his ungainly shuffling run. Arthur pushed himself along as well, his head swinging back and forth, trying desperately to find any sort of escape route or someone skulking about that could help.
Neither materialized.
Through a gap in one window, he saw what appeared to be a laboratory. Dead plants covered the area, with half-formed golden coins hanging from them. They appeared melted and distorted, as though someone had left chocolate coins in the sun.
While he didn’t get too long to study them, he saw the telltale purple glow.
"So his experiments with the coins started early then," Arthur thought as he pushed himself ever onward.
When they reached the corner, he almost tripped, finding himself kept upright by Wilth grabbing his shoulder.
"Got you!" The dragon yelled into his ear.
Arthur struggled against the grip, wrenching himself free with a display of brute force that shocked even him. With a growl, he turned and smashed his cane into the dragon’s hand. Wilth grunted but fought through the pain to snatch at the briefcase with his other hand.
"Give it to me!"
"No!"
They continued to grapple over the briefcase until Wilth sucked in a gulp of air and exhaled smoke into his face. It didn’t sting his eyes as it should, but it made him cough. His grip loosened on the briefcase, and Wilth tore it free with a victorious cry.
Arthur knew he didn’t have long. If he was right about the teleportation, then he needed to get it back right now. With a snarl, he pushed his cane into the ground and shoved himself forward into Wilth. This time, it was his turn to grab his opponent and drag him to the ground.
The briefcase fell to the side, but Arthur ignored it for now. Instead, he sat up and laid a punch into the back of Wilth’s head. Again and again, he struck out, blood pumping in his ears as the heat inside him flared.
His knees hit the ground as the dragon vanished from beneath him with a small pop. Arthur snatched up his briefcase and tried to catch his breath. Rage and pride filled him as he contemplated his victory.
When he heard the sounds of boots on the carpet, he whirled, looking down the hallway. Two large dragons in similar armor to the security officers at the mall walked towards them. Neither appeared happy.
"Who the hell are you?" One of them barked.
"Arthur Clark, Apocalypse Assortments."
He clutched his briefcase and cane closer to him as he stood up straight. Arthur knew he probably looked awful, and he wondered what the dragons thought. From their scowls, he bet nothing good.
"Who is your liaison? Why did he bring you here?"
"Gastho. They didn’t. Wilth…"
"Wilth?" One of the security guards snorted. "What’s mother’s secretary got to do with anything?"
"He brought me here. I need to talk to Epyrth. It’s important."
"Uh-huh."
Arthur watched as the two looked at each other and then back at him.
"Our supervisor will inform her of your visit, I’m sure. But for now, you’re coming with me. We’ll tell Gastho you're here too. I’m sure he’ll get a laugh."220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjMqjNIaPk7
With that, Arthur found himself under guard as they marched him off further into the building, unsure what exactly he would face next.220Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt1oNi5OI21
