One thing Zephyr was certain about was that in order to survive in this world he was still learning about, he needed to be stronger and capable of fighting. He'd spent his entire life as a loser, taking beatings and accepting bullshit about his life. But in his past life, he could barely manage to live without the ability to fight.
In this world, it was crucial to have such skills. Otherwise, he'd be the same loser, just in a different body. What would be the point?
Zephyr stared at his clawed hand as though he could conjure such strength in a feeble, lizard-like body. There was a reason those humans had so many Slinktails and why they were low-level demons.
Dain had been trying to level up for years, not just a measly two years or so but one hundred years. Zephyr was discouraged after hearing that.
Yet, while they travelled past the border of Shadowmere in daylight, the eerie silence that followed a night of human slaughter served as a stark reminder of his own vulnerability. Humans had good technology, and they easily knocked him out a week ago, and in a place like Shadowmere, where vampires resided, he would be dead meat.
If Zephyr was ever to run into a vampire beyond their kingdom, it was improbable he would live through the experience.
The unlucky humans who died last night would have been taken from nearby villages, either within the Valorian empire, Iron Hold or further east past the werewolf kingdom.
"What do you think? Fine stopping here?" Dain interrupted his thoughts. It was late afternoon, and the sun was already dipping low beneath the mountains further ahead. In front of them, though, stood a structure that Zephyr knew would be even more magnificent once they were closer.
"Is that… A head?" Zephyr narrowed his eyes at the large iron wall and the entrance to the kingdom he was beginning to realise was Iron Hold. Even from this distance, he could tell there had been outstanding craftsmanship and hard work put into the gate of the kingdom.
"Didn't you see it when we passed through last time?" Dain asked, disgruntled at his question.
"No… I must have been passed out," Zephyr mumbled, watching the striking figure of a sculpted dwarf's head, the iron carved into finer details. A helmet resided on the top of long, straight hair and a beard, his mouth a long rectangle cutting straight down to a drawbridge through the middle of its beard.
Torches began lighting up at the top of the wall that was clearly well guarded. The wind roared along the iron structure and caused Dain and Zephyr's clothes to flap against their scales. Even the horse stumbled slightly to the side, making him wonder how the torches were still alight. Then he remembered this was some fantasy world, and there was probably some sort of magic keeping them from blowing out.
"You're so weak," Dain replied. "You were asleep for over a day?"
"Suppose so," Zephyr grumbled, his annoyance clear in his voice at being called weak.
"And you want to level up," Dain shook his head. "It'll take you longer than me to get there."
How long did demons typically live for, anyway? It would be illogical to ask Dain now.
When they finally arrived at the gate, Zephyr's head was tilted back as he marvelled at the artwork. "Are you sure we can enter?" Zephyr asked in a daze.
"Dwarves don't have issues with us. We don't cause trouble, and if we do, they either resolve it themselves or send word to the hunters."
"Humans live here too?"
Dain shrugged. "Not as many as in Emerald Gate. The dwarves typically deal with the fae kind from the dark forest. It's why the walls and gate are made from iron. Strangely, the vamps don't really attack here."
Strange indeed. And what did the fae do? He shook his head. Whatever they did held no interest to him. All he needed to know was how to survive.
The horse's hooves echoed as they struck the bridge just before stopping in front of two guards- dwarves armed with axes, wearing helmets larger than their heads- crossed their weapons, blocking entry. Zephyr held his breath, unsure of the procedure.
"What's ya business here?" One of them asked, his voice thick with an accent Zephyr couldn't quite identify.
"Just looking for a place to stay and be on our way," Dain replied.
"There's no gangs here. You best move on quickly," the other grumbled before moving their axes to the side. It was comical because the horse could easily step over or trample them. However, once they began moving past the guards, Zephyr realised they weren't the only guards.
On either side of the gate, Zephyr counted at least five dwarves on each side on the grey-slated stairs. They aimed crossbows and muskets or held dual axes, preparing for a fight. All of them were clad in thick iron armour engraved with sigils he couldn't quite see or understand.
"That was easier than I thought," Zephyr murmured as Dain kicked the side of the horse gently, ordering him into a trot.
"Pfft," Dain snorted. "You think? Dwarves might be small, but they're great fighters. Stubborn things won't give up unless their arms are detached or they can't move anymore."
"And you know this how?" Zephyr arched his eyebrow. Or so he thought he was arching his eyebrow. He didn't have eyebrows, but some muscles moved above his eye. So that counted, right?
"The last gang I joined ran into some dwarves in the mountains. The Draegorths thought it would be fun to play with them… We lost three of them to the dwarves until they perished."
"How many of them were there?" He asked, flicking his gaze back to the miniature figures growing utterly negligible in the distance as the first drops of icy rain began to fall.
Interesting.
Zephyr swore if he had eyebrows, they'd be in his hairline.
Alkazar and that ogre-type demon were huge, and from some of Zephyrion's memories, Alkazar was quite skilled with his sword, so he couldn't imagine how men not even a third of his size could take at least three of him on before all of them were killed.
"Does it matter? It's not like you're going to fight them."
"Where are we heading?" Zephyr changed the subject.
"There's an inn for those passing through. Can probably find a demon or two who can tell me where to find a gang," Dain answered; his intention was clear that he wanted protection after being taken by the hunters.
It wasn't a bad shout, but the Draegorth treated them like shit. He didn't plan on letting that slide. What could he do, though, as a Slinktail compared to a beast such as a level 3 demon?
The pair passed by a few villages before finally stopping. Each one looked similar to the last. The only grand part about Iron Hold had been the entrance. Besides that, it all looked like a regular village in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by fields and farms where snow began to set.
One thing Zephyr immediately noticed upon dismounting the horse, besides his numb ass and tender thighs from riding so long, was the mixture of housing suitable for those of a regular size and those for dwarves. With the sun dipping lower and darkness slowly creeping in, hiding their features, it didn't stop people from staring at the newcomers.
The atmosphere was oh-so welcoming.
Besides the wind causing signs to creak back and forth to the multiple blacksmiths, inns and shops in the village and the sounds of Zephyr's boots squelching into the wet mud, gradually turning to dirty ice, it was utterly silent. Everyone noticed the two Slinktails, but just as quickly as their attention was on them, they turned away. They were only Slinktails, after all.
Dain appeared to be used to it and strolled ahead without a care in the world, leading the horse towards some stables adjacent to the Stout Mug Tavern and handing the stable boy a coin. He quickly accepted it and scrambled away with their horse, the fear in his eyes apparent. On the other hand, Zephyr felt the eyes of those around them watching him until he suddenly winced from a sharp pain at the back of his head.
Something hard had hit him.
Laughter and mockery followed it. Zephyr looked back to see children hurling stones in his direction. They weren't dwarves but regular-sized little shits that were goaded on by older kids and teenagers to toss stones at him. Did he just wake up in another world to be bullied by some runts that looked more like street rats in their drab, tattered garments no better than his own?
"Don't." Dain's claws clamped down on Zephyr's shoulder before he took another step in their direction.
The bitterness and rage that made him see red waned as he realised they were just kids. For a moment there, he'd been transported back to being bullied at school.
"Little pricks," Zephyr muttered, glaring in their direction. The children's eyes widened, and they gasped, stepping back in fear. Even the older kids were beginning to tremble in fear.
Zephyr smirked. Maybe his glare was a little terrifying. He was an odd-looking creature, after all...
His thought trailed off as he felt a slight shake to the ground behind him. His gaze dropped to the puddles that rippled from the vibrations. Were there T-rexs in this world?
Dain cursed under his breath, already looking behind him.
Why did he suddenly feel a sense of dread sweep through him?
Looking over his shoulder, Zephyr's gaze gradually ascended to the impossible size of a Draegorth. Make that three Draegorths all clad in black leather, blades twice the size of him sheathed by their sides. The kids who initially threw the stones ran away, and those nearby had scattered, hiding in the closest buildings. Armed dwarves appeared, pointing crossbows, and a few even had muskets trained on them.
"What do we have here, boys?" The Draegorth in the middle grinned maliciously, revealing a few missing sharp teeth, ignoring the dwarves around them.