Chapter 80: Who is she to you?
Lyrielle slammed the heavy wooden door shut behind her, leaning her back against the frame as her chest heaved with ragged breaths.
Vince looked up from where he was relaxing by the window, a dry smirk on his lips.
"I see you two are getting along."
"Not even close!"
Lyrielle exaggerated, throwing her hands in the air.
"I genuinely thought I was going to die out there! She ran at me like a unleashed siege weapon!"
"I think you’re overreacting,"
Vince said calmly, leaning back.
"She’s actually really friendly."
"Friendly to you, maybe!"
Lyrielle huffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
"I swear, I can’t wait until we leave this mountain so we can finally be done with her."
Vince cleared his throat, scratching the side of his cheek.
"Umm... about that. She’s going to be joining us on our travels from now on."
Lyrielle froze.
Her bright emerald eyes snapped wide in absolute betrayal.
"Huh?! I didn’t even get to vote?!"
She dropped into a nearby chair, burying her face in her hands with a sheepish, dramatic sob.
"It’s going to be great, I promise,"
Vince said, walking over to pat her shoulder in an attempt to console her.
Lyrielle took a deep, steadying breath, sitting up straight and composing herself as best she could.
"If I’m going to endure traveling with that brute, I am going to have to set some very strict boundaries."
"Fine by me,"
Vince said smoothly, turning around and flopping face-first onto the large feather bed.
Before he could even adjust his pillow, Lyrielle’s eyes narrowed. In one fluid movement, she grabbed his arm, channeled a quick burst of wind mana beneath his side, and flipped him completely off the bed onto the hard wooden floorboards.
THUD!
"Oww!"
Vince exclaimed, sitting up on the floor and rubbing the back of his head.
Lyrielle sat on the edge of the mattress, her cheeks puffed out dramatically as she looked down at him.
"You are sleeping on the floor as punishment."
Vince looked from the hard floor to her stubborn face, letting out a defeated chuckle.
"Fair enough, I guess."
He stretched out on the floorboards, trying to find a comfortable position, while Lyrielle pulled the blanket up to her waist. High above them, on the roof of the inn, the heavy, rhythmic breathing of Vetra signaled she was already fast asleep, her long tail occasionally thumping against the clay tiles.
A heavy silence settled over the room. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls.
"Vince?"
Lyrielle’s voice broke the quiet, soft and unusually hesitant.
"Huh?"
"Who is she to you?"
Vince shifted onto his side, looking up toward the bed.
"What do you mean?"
"What is the actual relationship between the two of you?"
She asked, keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling.
A playful glint lit up Vince’s eyes.
"Why are you asking me that... Are you jealous?"
Lyrielle’s head snapped toward him, her cheeks instantly flushing a deep, radiant crimson under the dim light.
"N-No! I am not!"
"You are completely jealous of Vetra,"
Vince teased, making direct eye contact.
"No, that’s not it at all!"
"Then what is it?"
Lyrielle bit her lower lip, turning her face away sharply.
"Never mind."
"Are you sure?"
Vince asked softly, his grin widening.
"I said never mind, you idiot!"
She yelled, grabbing the nearest plush pillow and stoning it straight at his face.
POOF!
"Oww,"
Vince muttered from under the pillow.
"Serves you right,"
Lyrielle huffed, turning her back to him and pulling the covers up over her shoulders.
Despite the back-and-forth, a comfortable quiet returned to the room, and before long, both of them drifted off to sleep.
---
By the time morning broke over Ignis-Vara, the room was already half-empty. Vetra had woken up at dawn and bounded off to find an absurd amount of meat for breakfast. Lyrielle had slipped out shortly after, heading for the open fields outside the village walls to practice amplifying her fire mana matrix.
Vince was the last to wake. He pulled on the sleek, fire-resistant coat and trousers Lyrielle had conjured for him the day before, smoothing down the lapels, and stepped out into the bright morning air.
The village market was bustling with vibrant activity. Dragonkin merchants shouted their wares, the scent of spiced meats filled the air, and blacksmiths hammered away at glowing forge-iron. Vince walked leisurely through the stalls, soaking in the foreign scenery.
Suddenly, three imposing dragonkin guards stepped directly into his path, blocking the narrow walkway.
Vince stopped, his gaze cool and impassive.
"Outta my way."
The lead guard—a tall warrior with dark grey scales and a heavy broadsword strapped to his back—stepped forward.
"The Chief has asked to see you."
Vince raised an eyebrow.
"For what reason?"
Not that he expected low-level guards to hold high-level political answers.
"Kindly come with us,"
The guard replied, his posture formal and unyielding.
Is this because of Vetra bringing a dragon like herself into the airspace?
Vince thought silently, weighing his options.
"Lead the way,"
Vince said, tossing his hands into his coat pockets.
The guards escorted him through the upper district of the city, stopping before a grand, open-air pavilion built from polished volcanic glass and dark teakwood. Sitting on a carved obsidian throne at the center of the hall was Chief Ignar—a massive, elder dragonkin warrior with weather-beaten, crimson-and-gold scales, a thick beard braided with bone beads, and a pair of battle-scarred horns sweeping back from his head. His eyes held the sharp, heavy weight of a leader who had ruled the volcanic mountain for decades.
"You sent for me,"
Vince spoke up, stepping into the pavilion without bowing.
The Chief shifted his massive frame, his golden eyes locking onto Vince. A low, gravelly chuckle rumbled from his deep chest.
"Ahh, yes... You are the human who rode the Crimson Calamity straight into the village."
Vince scanned the old leader’s expression and relaxed countenance, finding no immediate hostility.
"Yeah. Is there a problem?"
Chief Ignar stroked his braided beard, a wide, toothy grin spreading across his face.
"What you did is no small feat, human. Earning the respect of Mount Ignis’s apex predator is something our people have failed to achieve for generations. I will be throwing a grand banquet in your honor tonight."
Vince let out a quiet sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He raised one hand in a casual wave of dismissal, turning around on his heel to leave before the Chief could trap him in local politics.
"I’ll think about it."
The Chief watched the young human casually walk away from the throne room without a shred of fear or political flattery, letting out a low, amused huff.
"Hmmm..."
Ignar grinned, his slitted eyes tracking Vince’s retreating back.
"An interesting one indeed."