Trapped in Another World With No Magic

Chapter 123: Yaulwembor the Ancient Drake

Sir Magnir, the blue Einherjar of the Fievegal, cruises through the air as he scans the target zone from a wide orbit. The two knights from the Grand Duchy, Sir Helbeit the human and Sir Resken the shenwulf, both cling to the dragon’s armor on his back, laying low to avoid the wind. Just to make sure, the reptilian knight tilts his head to check. Both of them are still there, avoiding looking at the ground far below.

Humans and shenwulves, like many of the other races, were born and raised on the ground. They build their houses on the ground, they fight on the ground, and they die on the ground. The sky is the domain of dragons, and Magnir has learned that most races that are unfamiliar with riding wyverns tend to be rather afraid of heights. Fortunately, these soldiers have some training on Wenlianna’s airship, which requires soldiers to brave the outer surface to engage airborne enemies in the sky. With Magnir, it’s like riding a very large buckrokh, but one that knows where to go on its own. All they have to do is hold on and try to watch for anything Magnir might miss.

They had no issues establishing the stealth spell on the dragon, which makes him almost impossible to detect from range, including visually. Xyreko has her spellmasters deconstructing the magic technique elaborately to ensure that it will no longer work against the Fievegal.

As they cruise through the air, the blue dragon searches for any signs of the legendary ‘dragon’ of Mattarglos; Yaulwembor. Assuming it’s actually just a very old drake that mutated into a monster due to whatever the mana-related cause is, it should have found a secluded area to hoard food and where it can secure water easily. Usually, this means an old mining tunnel or a naturally formed cavern. Some drakes have made their homes in fallen colossal trees that slowly rotted inside out.

A glint catches the dragon’s eye, and he looks in that direction. It was a coincidence granted by his angle compared to the sun, but the blue Einherjar is able to spot the source of the point of light.

It’s certainly a living being with metallic scales that shimmer in the sunlight when they’re exposed. It is sleeping mostly in the shade of a large tree.

Correction, a VERY large tree.

The being is very obviously reptilian, even viewing it from so far away. But, by taking an extra moment to really see the whole picture, the tree is one of a large scattering of what the Mattarglos natives call ‘Glonvokaut’, or ‘Behemoth Maples’. These titanic trees rise high into the sky over the majority of the forest, looking simply like an aged old tree amidst a forest of saplings. But instead, the forest is full of already large trees, and the behemoth maples stand several times even taller.

And, backdropped by such a humongous monolith of wood rests the being Magnir is certain is his target; Yaulwembor. From what he can estimate, Yaulwembor is larger than Magnir, and might even be larger than Neith in his true form. Dragons grow slowly over their entire lives, making Neith the largest dragon on the continent.

Or, so they all thought.

Magnir looks over his shoulder as he glides, making eye contact with the knights. He gestures his head towards the location, and he waits.

The two knights scan, and Sir Resken notices it first. He pats Sir Helbeit and points, helping him spot the being. It takes another moment, and the two confirm with each other, signalling such for the dragon carrying them.

The blue Einherjar nods, banking to glide closer to inspect the being. No one readily available from Mattarglos had been present who had also seen Yaulwembor with their own eyes, as few see the being and live. 

The closer he gets, the larger it appears. Yaulwembor truly is a titan of Mattarglos, easily twice or three times as large as the grey dragon Neith, now that Magnir can properly judge its size. Asleep as it is, it’s difficult to distinguish if the monster is truly a dragon or not, but it certainly has wings, and it doesn’t appear to be a normal wingdrake.

The shenwulf mage, Resken, creates a bubble of stable air using a wind magic barrier, holding it while Helbeit sketches the monster on a notepad.

The supposed dragon reminds Magnir of Daniel. Its scales covering its whole body give the avian reptile a sort of shifting rainbow hue, as if each one of the keratinous armor plates is made of sharmelkolle. Its metallic natural protection looks rather elegant and regal, softened by age from a clean shine and lightly marred where old scars have faded. The ancient being has two large, elegant horns similar to a ram’s, but much larger and more weathered than Reignleif’s when she’s in her true form.

It’s not likely to be fully sentient, like a true dragon, however, since Yaulwembor is sleeping out in the open, where the weather could change or enemies could attack. It is rather carefree, indicating it came to rest where it happened to be at the time because it knows it is powerful, but the monstrous drake has no concept of other races or kingdoms that might eventually conspire to end the legend’s tale.

Legend… thinks the Einherjar to himself. Why does something seem off about this creature?

Magnir looks over his shoulder when one of the two knights taps on his back. Helbeit makes several hand gestures, mainly a circular motion with his fingers pointing down. He’s requesting to go lower.

They were given strict orders to keep their distance. Even with a powerful stealth spell in effect, an enemy with enough awareness of magic or even more acute senses may detect them.

Fortunately, they should be able to get a little closer. Daniel did task Magnir with determining as much as possible about Yaulwembor, including its gender if possible, since it will determine exactly how to handle the dragon and the end goal of the engagement.

Dragon… Ancient dragons… Yaulwembor is too big to be a drake… Even the one Daniel killed was older than a thousand years, and it was a fraction of this size… But, if it’s a dragon,...

Magnir circles slowly, descending at a controlled pace in order to keep distance in case the monster moves.

No, it isn’t a monster. But, I don’t think it’s a dragon. Or, not a normal…

The blue knight sees it far too late. His studious gaze was just noticing oblong rounded shapes clustered together near the creature. When he notices, Yaulwembor’s eye starts to move, and the eyelids separate only a little, revealing deep, dark blue eyes flecked with striking violet accents. Even before the dragon is fully aware of its surroundings, the pupil tilts and Magnir can feel its gaze fall upon him.

All at once, his body tenses. His heart tightens. His muscles tingle and his mana silences.

Even before Morthybargaron, the blue lesser dragon only felt intimidation. As dragons died around him and Ryuogriar, Reignleif, and the golden dragon suffocated, Magnir trembled in fear. 

But nothing in his life has gripped him so deeply and viscerally as the terror squeezing in on the Einherjar’s entire body from a mere glance. Magnir’s body goes limp, and his wings buckle as his breath hitches. 

The knights cry out as the trio begins to plummet toward the ground.

For a long, terrifying time, Magnir is helpless. He can’t even think straight, other than an instinctual fear that consumes him. He flails meekly, considering his size, and the knights are screaming and trying to call out to him. The Einherjar’s body knows he is falling to his doom, but he can’t muster any sort of coherent strategy to recover.

Resken casts a spell, aiming it for Magnir.

Suddenly, the dragon’s senses return, and he is able to think clearly again. Some sort of hypnotic spell. Usually, dragons are highly resistant to psychic attacks, but in this case, Magnir was already weakened by Yaulwembor’s gaze stunning him.

Now, the blue knight is fully aware again, and he is upside down as the human and shenwulf dangle from the simple ropes strung around his torso for them to hold onto.

Magnir shouts over the wind rushing by from their fall, “Brace yourselves!”

He rolls over, mindful to ensure the knights end up on his back again without spinning out from under them. They’re still plummeting to the ground, but he is in control now. He angles himself in a nosedive. It’s extremely difficult even for a dragon to regain flight simply by flapping his wings. But, if he can gain airspeed by reducing drag and controlling his angle, Magnir can open his wings and let his momentum do more of the work.

The two Stalvaltan knights are barely clinging to his back. 

It won’t be as smooth as a flight-loss recovery as Magnir might hope. A deadly being is aware of his presence.

The blue knight’s skin crawls and scales flicker.

Powerful magic is being concentrated behind him.

The knights on his back ultimately limit his maneuverability to recover, but they’ll all die if the monstrous drake’s attacks land.

Magnir snaps his wings out wide, catching the air and immediately gaining lift. The tops of the trees are still rapidly approaching, and Magnir needs to use them as cover. He banks hard left, feeling the strain in his wing-shoulders. Humanoid legs are flopping against his right side. The weight shifts suddenly.

One of the knights has lost his grip on the rope.

The mana also ripples across the dragon’s skin and scales. An attack has been launched.

Magnir swoops around the top of one of the behemoth maples from Yaulwembor, rolling in a wide arc. cocking his head to try to see the knights.

The top of the tree explodes behind them, startling him a little, as the blast is much more violent and larger than he expected, casting shrapnel and licks of fire past them. The blue knight closes his wings in, spinning fast to catch the knight who was dislodged. The shenwulf lost his grip on the human, who managed to catch his partner initially. Magnir’s violent spin dislodges them both, and he is able to catch them in his massive foreclaws, holding them carefully as he pulls them in close to his chest to restore aerodynamics. He can’t focus on keeping them comfortable when it will take everything he can muster just to keep them all alive.

The blue Einherjar recovers his flight pattern, banking again as a bolt of lightning streaks by. He can feel the stray discharges on his scales as thunder booms to the side.

Suddenly, mana begins building in his foreclaws. Summoned fireballs, stones, and pockets of ark mana begin firing from his right claw, where the shenwulf Resken is. They intersect behind Magnir, exploding in pops and booms, creating clouds of smoke and debris while the blue dragon weaves through some of the trees that reach above the average height, as well as other behemoth maples. He’s not sure if Yaulwembor is following him, but its attacks are exploding around them. Resken’s magic shrapnel bursts have obscured them some, but they’re burning through his mana quickly.

Magnir banks and looks partially over his shoulder. He doesn’t see any signs of the devilish drake. He’s certain that it’s more powerful than he is, but his smaller size serves as an advantage while weaving through the treetops. And, if he can find a good place to vanish into the forest in cover, they might be able to survive until Yaulwembor loses interest.

That’s the plan, anyways.

Just as he’s returning his focus ahead, a flicker of lights and a distortion of the air spits out a horrifying revelation.

Yaulwembor can teleport.

It takes everything in Magnir’s power to try to come to a stop, but it was already far too late.

A massive claw wraps around his throat, squeezing tightly. He tries to kick and flap his wings to pry free, but the monstrous drake has him firmly within its grasp.

He trembles as his eyes find those of the titan glaring down at him, swinging its wings casually, rather than flapping them. It’s supporting itself and Magnir’s combined weight with levitation magic, similar to how the greater dragons do when they hover in midair.

It feels desperate, but the Einherjar very much is so. He struggles to inhale, preparing his jaws to breathe fire, assuming the dragon can exhale enough to project his immolating breath. n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

Yaulwembor seems to take a twisted pleasure in seeing the sparks of ignityal burning in Magnir’s mouth as a pilot flame. Its own igniter flames crackle between its jaws, and it takes a deep breath. The blue Einherjar is once more gripped by terror as he feels the mana building around the monster’s mouth to concentrate what’s about to happen.

At that moment, thunder booms, and both Yaulwembor and Magnir look. A near-blinding column of divine fire splits the sky, branching out like a tree of flames as the magic-enhanced dragon breath loses energy at extreme range and dissolves into dancing lights.

In the moment of quiet as Yaulwembor stares off into the distance, Magnir tries to think of ways out of the predicament. He still has the two knights in his claws, but they’ve thankfully not provoked the beast with attacks.

During his desperate search for escape, the dragon notices that the air feels heavy, or thick. It’s a scent in the air that doesn’t match with everything going on.

And, just as suddenly as the dangerous battle began, the behemoth loses interest in Magnir and casts him aside. He’s too low to recover now, and he braces his wings against his body, exhaling fire as he falls.

He’s no longer trying to attack Yaulwembor, which was never his goal to begin with.

He’s hoping the others will see his flames just as he saw the unmistakable dragon breath of one of the four greater dragons accompanying Daniel.

Magnir crashes through the trees until his back slams the ground, and his arms flop down as well, dropping the knights. He has to catch his breath as the giant shadow of a powerful being disappears.

Helbeit scrambles to his feet and runs to Magnir’s head, checking on the dragon. “Sir Magnir!”

“I’m alive…”

“You saved us from falling. You have my gratitude.”

The dragon sits up, mindful of the two human-kin knights. “Withhold your gratitude, Sir Helbeit. I suspect we will all be in each other’s debt before long.”

Helbeit and Resken glance at each other. “What would you have us do?”

“The Emperor is in danger. That includes the Empress Wenlianna. Time is of the essence. We must warn them, or intercept Yaulwembor if we can.”

Resken clenches his fists. He has to brace himself for the mission to come, but he doesn’t show fear.

“We swore to complete this mission. And, we made the decision to get too close. It is our responsibility to defend our allies.” 

“The decision was mine,” interjects Helbeit. “And, I was useless during the escape.”

“We didn’t escape,” corrects Magnir. “It let us go.” He bows his head. “Good sirs of the Stalvaltan Grand Duchy; I ask you to follow me once more into danger.”

Both human-kin knights cross their forearms over their breastplates, standing rigid. “We uphold our vow. Lead us, Sir Magnir.”

“Sir Helbeit, Sir Resken… Thank you.”

The dragon helps the two climb up into position on his back once more, and he navigates the forest until he can find a place where he can take off.

He scans in the direction of the lake, which should be where Daniel and the others are. It’s a fairly long flight, and even still, he can’t see the colossal monster Yaulwembor.

“Where did it go?” calls out Helbeit.

They scan high and low, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Did it copy our spell?” asks Resken.

“That’s impossible!”

“It could teleport!” shouts the shenwulf. “It’s obviously powerful.”

“Teleportation is a spell that requires sentience! If it was a dragon, wouldn’t it have said something?”

“It’s not a dragon,” replies Magnir.

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. Or,... At least, it’s not a dragon in our sense of the word.”

Magnir’s statement raises questions, rather than answering them.

The blue dragon knows very little about Yaulwembor except that it is a female and it can use a great range of magic types.

And, whatever it is, it might even be more powerful than Senn.

***

A while before, Daniel inspects the water’s edge. Gwenesphia calls out from much further away, where her family and Veiranoei are gathered, “Daniel! You really shouldn’t be so close to the water.”

He wonders how mantaroucks determine the location of their prey. He knows alligators and crocodiles are attracted to disturbances on the surface, and they can sneak up on prey underwater with impressive buoyancy control.

Neith kneels next to Daniel, observing the water as Vaergraes and Senn stand a little further behind them. 

“I’m alright, Gwen. I won’t disturb the surface yet.”

“Their undersides are their weak points, my Liege,” explains Neith. “Or rather, their gills, which are underneath. The hide can be rather tough to pierce. Especially with a graetcheth.”

Daniel ponders his inventory, which is less robust than he would like. He could and should have brought far more weapons, but he hadn’t really planned on laying siege to monsters; especially not the legendary ones the people of Mattarglos fear.

The water has a very beautiful clearness to it, indicating a good balance between plantlife, aquatic creatures, bacterial equilibrium, and a modest amount of light. And, he doesn’t see anything other than some fish lurking under floating plants a ways out. Something large enough to be considered a monster should stand out a bit, even drifting close to the edge. Daniel has seen alligators in their natural habitat, and their stealth relies heavily on two things primarily; the dark waters full of tannins and animals not having the complex vision that humans have. The human mechanic grumbles, “I should’ve brought mines.” Neith chuckles in reply.

Daniel stands up and approaches the gatonines, followed by Neith, Vaergraes, Kera’tai, and Senn. Hekate and Doephluev are nearby, bickering over the numbers of monsters they slayed while clearing the path to the lakeside.

“Hekate, Doephluev, stop arguing and come over here. We’re having our final strategy meeting.”

“Yes my love!” replies Doephluev without missing a beat, immediately dropping the argument to jog over. Hekate snaps, “Hey! I wasn’t done-... Wait! I mean,... Grah!” She sprints as fast as she can, passing Doephluev and racing to Daniel’s side to claim his right arm. She sticks her tongue out at the archoneldwyn, who ignores her, simply walking up and standing on the other side of Daniel, though Vaergraes has already claimed directly next to him.

She declares brazenly, “I killed six, my Love.”

“She’s lying!”

“Enough, please. We have another monster to focus on right now.” Daniel pets Hekate’s head to calm her. “As we discussed, we’ll bait Rohgattabor to shore, Neith will block off its escape, and we’ll target the gills.”

“This would be a lot faster if we simply used our full might,” remarks Vaergraes. “It’s incredibly dangerous for… everyone that intends to attack it at melee range.”

“I asked for this,” replies Gwenesphia. “Our family is responsible for this land, and it would boost our reputation to be part of the monster slaying of one of the most dangerous beasts in all of Mattarglos.”

Goelselmo sighs, putting his hand on her shoulder. “My dear…” She smiles, putting her hand on his.

Daniel adds, “I don’t have enough firearms for everyone. Treia and Gwen are free to use theirs. Just be mindful of everyone. I just fear it’ll have some way of blocking even the anti-monster shells, like Tyror.”

Hekate points out, “Daniel, do you just call the big bullets ‘anti-’ whatever we’re fighting at the time? You used to call them anti-dragon bullets.”

Daniel grins playfully. “They’re based on a cross between anti-tank and anti-aircraft rounds on Earth, so… yes.”

The others snicker warmly at his joke.

“Your demon-staves,” starts Peiburi. “Can… anyone be taught?”

Daniel nods. “There are no plans to trade them with other kingdoms, though. I’ve considered making scaled back versions for trade, but…”

“But, no Empire, even one run by a teenager, is fool enough to trade away their greatest advantage,” states Hekate proudly.

Peiburi nods in understanding. Lyrtef asks, “Father, I’m willing to fight, but would it be better to allow them to deal with the beast at full strength?”

Goelselmo studies his younger son for a moment. Kuboen is the one to answer, “Of course not, Lyrtef. If we allow these outsiders to take all of the glory, we’ll be nothing more than the family who had to be saved from our own duties.”

“I have honored your family’s wishes because Gwen asked for it, and I can sympathize, Lord Kuboen, but glory is a gift we give mainly to the dead so their names will be remembered for a while longer. For the living, it is simply a pedestal from which we might fall.”

Kuboen steps closer to Daniel, pressing his chest to Daniel’s, though their difference in heights makes it closer to the human’s stomach instead. “What would a lecherous philanderer know of glory and honor? Even now, you let your… mistresses bicker and argue like catty harlots.” He looks at his family, asking once more, “What do you see in this libertine human who lies with demons, Gwen?”

“Kuboen,...” murmurs Gwenesphia.

“I know,...” begins Daniel in retort. “...that the histories of Earth and Zenkon are packed full of glorious martyrs and honorable dead. And, I know at least some of your vitriol does truly stem from protectiveness for your sister.”

Kuboen bears his teeth, starting to retort, but Daniel snatches him in a headlock, yanking the gatonine around. This startles everyone, and Goelselmo, Lyrtef, and Peiburi instinctively grip their swords, starting to draw. But, Neith, Kera’tai, Hekate, and Vaergraes are much quicker to go on guard, and Doephluev instantly has mana glowing in her palm as she aims it at the gatonine family, truly showing how outnumbered and outmatched they are, even without Gwenesphia, Treia, or Veiranoei needing to choose sides.

Daniel rips Kuboen’s helmet off, even as he struggles against the mechanic, and the human snarls quietly into his ear, “The last thing I know is that if you ever disrespect the people I love again,...”

Daniel whispers the remainder of the threat into Kuboen’s triangular feline ear quietly enough that only the intended recipient is the one to hear it.

Kuboen goes pale, and Daniel asks, “Now, can we get on with the mission? Is everyone ready?”

The rest of the group confirms that they are prepared, and the gatonines move into their various positions, with Treia and Gwenesphia ready with rifles. 

The human mechanic asks his best friend, “Neith, can you withstand…”

“Daniel! Look!” calls out Hekate.

The group stops what they’re doing to look where she’s pointing; out across the lake. Daniel lived in a subtropical climate in the United States, so what he’s seeing is a little less surprising than it should be.

He and his strike team are watching a localized rain shower so close in, he can see the edges on the right and left the ‘storm’, as well as the perimeter as it moves across the water. 

Of course, on Earth, it was a natural phenomenon, even to have small local showers that he could drive across in approximately ten seconds. It was peculiar, just as this is now.

It’s not hot enough to be from a subtropical climate, though Zenkon does have a higher oxygen content and humidity than Earth, and Daniel is among the furthest things from a meteorologist. He knows a few rules of thumb about weather patterns, but virtually next to nothing about the finer mechanisms of climate, weather, and the factors that affect them.

Daniel shouts, “Everyone! To positions! Ready to strike!”

“D-Daniel!?” shouts Gwenesphia.

Daniel withdraws a flashbang grenade, and Hekate and Doephluev both recognize it, pulling their own out of their void bags. They pull the pins, keeping the spoons held down. The edge of the rainstorm is rapidly approaching, and Neith jogs into position, diving to the ground to stay out of sight.

Daniel jogs towards the water, shouting, “Vae, Kera’tai, cover me with barriers! Hekate and Doephluev, control the monster’s escape routes!”

They scatter as well with shouts of confirmation, and Daniel digs out one of his polonium grenades as well. The flashbangs will prevent the monster from moving as much, since it will be blind, which will allow Daniel to toss the polonium grenade into its mouth… he hopes.

Daniel crouches to keep his profile low. The barriers should protect him, and he’s the only one that can afford to be exposed to polonium directly without sacrificing their strength. At worst, he won’t be able to use his void bag if he gets himself contaminated. But, that’s a minor issue.

It’s a tense moment as the rainfall reaches the shoreline and passes over them. The droplets hammer on Daniel’s armor as the heavy downpour makes it challenging to see. It’s a long, tense moment, and he notices Luceniel the elemental change to a small pixie with a watery appearance, mainly a deep blue. 

But, he can’t get distracted. He can’t even see a shadow in the water. There isn’t even a wake. If he didn’t know better, he might assume it was a natural storm similar to the brief showers back where he lived on Earth.

Daniel glances at everyone else. They’ve carefully moved into positions. Mantaroucks will hunt small, noisy prey on the shoreline as much as big inattentive prey that takes a drink.

The human mechanic from Earth takes a breath to calm himself. He just survived one fight with monsters that could have vaporized him with magic.

He needs to reconsider how he ends up in these situations. If this were a story and he were aware of it, he’d gladly settle for the other thing he dislikes; academy stories. Wasting time in school and dealing with aristocratic drama would be less stressful, at least.

Daniel swallows his saliva as the moment drags out, his heartbeat starting to be noticeable in his ears.

Come on. Show yourself.

He realizes it’s too quiet. If it’s listening for small prey, it’s waiting for them.

Just as the thought is passing through his mind, he looks at his armored forearm, where raindrops are splashing.

The realization is just forming in his mind, and he springs up. “It’s listening to the-!?”

With the suddenness and seeming intensity of a bomb going off, the lake in front of Daniel explodes.

***