"You're saying you've taken on another commission?"Serena paused, the soup spoon halfway to her mouth, brows creasing slightly as she looked at Yarrow.
He had just come back from the city with Zen, carrying a stack of books and a wild new announcement.
"It's a village east of here—Bada. Goblins raided the place, and the village chief's family got taken. The guild's called for adventurers to help with the rescue and clear the lair."
Serena frowned. "You just finished a commission last week. You're going again so soon?" Her voice softened. "Is it about money? I told you, my alchemy equipment's arriving soon. Once it's set up, I can cover more of our costs."
"Are we going to be poor?" Ji Xiaofei's small voice piped up from across the table, eyes wide with worry.
Yarrow waved a hand. "It's not that. This one's... important for other reasons."
He wasn't about to say it was because of an iPhone.
At first, he thought he was hallucinating—or maybe it was a prop. But when the guild officer turned on the screen and the home interface lit up—clear as day—he knew it was real.
According to the officer, it was a magical artifact passed down by the old village chief's son—the only one to escape the goblin raid. It supposedly housed a wise witch who could answer any question if you called her name.
Siri, the all-knowing oracle of Cupertino.
He still had no idea how it was powered. Was it solar? Magic? Dragon breath? Either way, Yarrow needed to get it.
"It's dangerous, isn't it?" Serena looked down at her bowl, voice barely audible.
"Don't worry. I'm not going alone—Zen's coming with me."
"Huh?" Zen looked up from her book, still chewing. Her silver hair gleamed in the candlelight, eyes narrowing.
"Are you treating this king like a personal bodyguard?"
"One lemon cake every day for the next month."
Zen paused, considering.
"Deal."
Serena sighed. "Alright. Just... be careful. And when you get back, don't complain that I never let you rest."
Yarrow blinked. "You're calling this a break?"
"Absolutely."
"I want to drop out of school."
The Next Morning
He dragged a yawning Zen to the Adventurers Guild. A dozen people had already gathered, all part of the commission team. It was more than a standard party—after all, this was a lair-clearing mission.
Yarrow glanced around. Most of the group looked... unimpressive. Good news for him—less competition for the loot.
With the Silver Moon Dragon King at his side, goblins might as well have been training dummies.
"Hey, where are we?" Zen muttered, rubbing her eyes.
"Guild. We're heading out soon. Did you stay up reading again?"
She yawned without answering.
"I'm hungry."
Yarrow opened his bag and handed her a ham and egg sandwich Serena had packed. "Here. I also brought some snacks, just wait—HEY, don't bite my hand!"
Zen, still mostly asleep, had instinctively snapped at the scent, teeth catching his wrist.
She blinked herself awake, made a face, and spat. "Eugh. Tastes like mortal."
"You bit me and then acted like I'm the problem?!" Yarrow fumed.
He reached for a handkerchief—then paused.
Wasn't dragon saliva worth two gold lang a spoonful?
He stared at the damp patch on his wrist.
"…Should I bottle this?"A beat."Nope, still gross." He wiped it off.
Zen, munching contentedly, held out a hand. "Where's my book?"
Yarrow sighed and passed it to her. She flipped it open with one hand while still chewing.
Around them, whispers began to ripple.
"Is that a Dragonkin?""She looks like one of the Echino bloodline...""Are we just backup now? With her on our side, this might be a cakewalk."
Yarrow mentally smacked himself. He should've disguised her. Showing up with a Silver Dragon was like bringing a cannon to a snowball fight.
Just then, a confident cough rang out.
A young man in polished leather armor stepped up onto a stack of crates. He had slicked-back hair, a practiced smile, and a longsword strapped to his back.
He raised his arms theatrically.
"Everyone! A moment, please!"
The crowd turned.
"My name is Charles Wood, swordsman-in-training! I know most of you are strangers, but this mission is dangerous. So let's work together, support each other, and when we succeed, the drinks are on me!"
There was an awkward silence.
Zen looked up from her book. "Who's that peacock?"
Yarrow chuckled. "No idea. But he's definitely not getting the phone."
"Who the hell is that guy?"
"No idea."
"Just another clown with a hero complex."
Charles landed on the ground with a bit too much flair, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves before striding confidently toward Zen.
With what he must've thought was a charming smile, he offered a shallow bow—half-gentleman, half-awkward.
"My fair Dragonkin lady," he said, clearly performing for the surrounding audience, "since we are to be companions on this quest, might I be graced with your name?"
Zen didn't even glance up—just kept chewing her sandwich, eyes still glued to her book.
A ripple of laughter spread through the crowd.
Charles stiffened but tried again, voice slightly more strained."Ahem... Lady Dragonkin?"
Zen's golden, slit-pupiled eyes slowly lifted from the page and pinned him in place. Her voice was calm, bored even, but carried a pressure that made the air feel heavier.
"Silence, noisy human."
Charles visibly flinched and stumbled back a step, the smirk on his face cracking."R-right. I'll just—leave you to your meal, then."
He retreated with as much dignity as he could muster. The crowd snickered again.
Yarrow exhaled. "Yeah… really should've thrown a cloak over her."
Meanwhile, in the goblin lair...
Deep within the foul-smelling cave, lit only by the flicker of fungus lamps and the stench of decay, Susan was dragged forward by two brutish goblins. They shoved her to the ground like a broken toy.
She struggled to her knees, coughing, and blinked into the darkness ahead. A figure lay crumpled against the wall.
Her breath caught.
"Mike!"
She scrambled toward him, her voice cracking with hope and dread.
The man stirred slowly. His face was bloodied and pale, beard matted with filth. It was Old Mike, the village chief—her husband. A once-sturdy man now reduced to a trembling husk.
"Susan..." His voice was barely a whisper. His eyes filled with tears."I—I'm sorry... I couldn't protect them. I… I'm not clean anymore."
"What are you talking about?" Susan asked, her hands gently cupping his face.
From behind, heavy footsteps echoed through the chamber.
A grotesque figure emerged into the faint light: tall for a goblin, bloated with fat and muscle, wearing a patchwork fur kilt and a necklace strung with small, pale skulls. In his gnarled hand, he held a black fir staff.
His grin was all jagged yellow teeth.
"Tough old man, that one," the Goblin King rasped. "Even when I broke his bones, he still wouldn't talk. Not a single hint about the treasure's hiding place."
Old Mike whimpered, curling in on himself.
The Goblin King stepped closer to Susan, eyeing her like a prize. "So, what about you?"
Susan clenched her fists in the dirt. Her body trembled—not from fear, but from the effort of holding it all in. She stared at the ground and then at her husband's battered face. Gritting her teeth, she raised her head defiantly.
"I won't tell you anything."
The Goblin King's grin widened.
"Perfect," he crooned. "I like them with a bit of fire."
He leaned in closer and whispered, voice low and revolting.
"Want to know a secret? I especially love married women. There's just something... exquisite about the way they 'break'."
... patreon Seasay