Warlock Apprentice

Angor knew he probably went out cold back there. Since he woke up just fine, somebody must have saved him. But who was it? And where did that dragon go?

“Who-who are you?” He tried asking the stranger while sitting up, only to find that his voice sounded nothing like his usual self. He sounded like a 50-year-old chronic smoker. His throat hurt by making the slightest sound.

The figure sitting at the fire slowly opened her eyes, which surprised Angor when he saw her look.

At first, Angor thought it was a man with dark skin and short, clean-cut hair. But with the help of firelight, he noticed that it was a slim-bodied woman. She looked quite tall, maybe above two meters. Her glossy, tan skin was slightly shimmering against the light. The woman wasn’t wearing any clothes apart from several blueish black scales covering her private parts. And Angor found those scales to be familiar.

She had odd eyes, one red and one blue, which further added to her wild character. At least that pair of sharp horns on her forehead told Angor that she wasn’t human.

A demon?? Angor wondered, before he decided to ask her again, “Who are you, if I may?”

The woman threw him a cold glance. “Typical foolishness for your kind, human. You have no idea what you are dealing with.”

She didn’t open her mouth. It was her spiritual aura that just spoke to Angor. The aura appeared as a ferocious-looking dragon head hovering behind her.

“You’re that—dragon??”

“You may refer to me as Fafnir, human.”

“Miss—I mean, Lord Fafnir. Did you save my life?”

“What reason do I have to assist a worthless human? None.”

Angor scratched his head. The pain induced by the movement reminded him of all the blood coming off his body. He thought he was dead for sure, but somehow, the bloodloss did not kill him. Or rather, he didn’t see any bloodstains on his body.

Toby was still sleeping, as he had been earlier. Angor couldn’t think of anyone else other than the mighty creature in front of him who might come to the rescue.

But… The woman was giving him the frowning look of pure disgust as if someone stepped on a cockroach barefooted. Would she actually save him?

“Lord Fafnir, may I—”

Angor had many questions, such as how he ended up here, why the dragon was talking to him in human form, and how to get rid of Toby’s curse. But before he could ask any of those, the sharp itchiness on his back returned.

He lost control of his body and began convulsing on the floor like a terminal patient suffering seizures.

Desperate, he reached out a hand to scratch, only to make the terrible feeling worse.

He was not a stranger to the sudden itchiness. But it never happened so intensely before as to completely render him immobile.

“Put your hand away right now.” Fafnir’s commanding voice once again echoed in his head, causing him to obey the order.

The itchiness subsided enough in a few minutes for Angor to move again. He saw Fafnir’s eyes reflecting the bright orange light from the campfire, as well as a small hint of green.

Wait, green?

Angor quickly spread his spirit to check his body.

His robe had a giant tear at the right shoulder, from where a green tentacle reached out and was swaying left and right above his head. The “tentacle” cast an unpleasant green light over his head that gave him a very funny look, as if he were wearing a new hat designed by Nano.

He knew what this was. This thing was trying to connect with the distant voice he heard earlier. His instinct told him that “inviting” the strange voice meant true disaster. Before he fainted, he tried his best to remove this tentacle thing.

He wondered if he failed in the end.

“Get that back inside, human,” Fafnir spoke to him in that same, cruel voice. “It is attempting to find a proper spot to create an inter-plane portal. You shouldn’t allow that.”

“How do I do that?”

As a reply, he was met with Fafnir’s tornado, which slammed him into a black wall that he couldn’t see.

“Do not raise your voice in front of me before you deal with that thing, human.”

Without a choice, Angor remained silent and tried.

A long time was spent without any success.

Meanwhile, Fafnir kept her close attention to Angor’s actions while trying not to show it. She dared not go closer to the green mark.

What in the world is that? And what’s on his right hand?

She knew that the green tentacle was only a fraction of a great power she couldn’t see yet. Since the root of it was lodged inside Angor’s body, she thought Angor was hiding something more further within.

After countless trials and errors, Angor finally managed to command the tentacle to shrink lower. Yet he couldn’t make it fully disappear yet. The tentacle now clung to his skin like a green tattoo, much similar to some of the bizarre bodily decorations favored by odd wizards.

He had to constantly put pressure in his effort, or the tentacle would bounce back out again. If it grew freely, it would rapidly consume what remained of his soul energy, and he couldn’t allow that.

He felt terrible when he was added with such a distracting burden, yet he couldn’t do anything about it.

Seeing the tentacle no longer growing, he carefully approached the fire and sat down, whereas Fafnir stared at him using her different-colored eyes.

While Angor expected the powerful creature to ask him what the green thing was about, it was not Fafnir’s plan because she still felt threatened by the unknown might she saw earlier. As an ancient dragon, Fafnir knew more than anyone else that curiosity killed more than the cat. In fact, being too curious was the reason for her recent injury that kept her locked in sleep for centuries.

The might shown by Angor’s green mark appeared no less than that of an ancient Grand Demon. She could not and should not question its nature.

“Lord-Lord Fafnir, as you requested, I got it under control. May I ask a few questions now?” Angor tried to give the dragon-woman a pleading look, not sure if this would work.

“What an annoyance you are, human.”

“My name is Angor.”

“You expect me to use your pathetic name now, human?”

“That’s not what I mean…”

Despite her unfriendly words, Fafnir’s expression turned more peaceful, which gave Angor enough courage to speak up.

“Can I know how to get rid of this curse from Toby?”