Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 5 - Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

What the Puppet Felt on the Brink of Death

Glenn was brought back to Duke Rehnberg’s estate, but even as night fell, he still hadn’t regained consciousness. The only ones in the room with him were Monica and Nero. No servants were permitted to enter, since it was possible the remaining curse would attack someone else.

The black shadow was visible in the candlelight, still clinging to his body. It had stopped moving after they’d killed the source—the green dragon. But just as the shadow had remained on the dragon’s corpse, so it remained on the unconscious Glenn.

He would occasionally moan in pain, but even then his voice was faint. Anyone could tell that the flame of his life was about to burn out.

“…Nero,” said Monica as she watched the shadow. “The dragon’s last words… You heard them, right?”

“Yep.”

Greater dragons were highly intelligent and could understand human language. But their vocal organs weren’t made to speak human words, so instead, they spoke the same language as the spirits.

Monica had studied spiritspeak back at Minerva’s Mage Training Institution, so she could make out simple words.

Never forgive. That human. Never forgive.

The green dragon had clearly held a grudge against a human. And not all humans, but someone in particular.

“The poor girl was already pretty weak by the time I sensed her,” said Nero.

Normally, greater dragons possessed at least as much mana as spirits did. And yet this one had been terribly weak—to the point that even Nero had difficultly detecting its presence.

“I only sensed the mana from the curse,” he continued. “Its snaky shape felt about as big as a typical dragon, so I thought maybe that’s what it was. Turns out I was right.”

The green dragon had been in such a state because the curse had eaten away at it. That dragon was the source, so shouldn’t killing it have been enough to take out the curse? At this rate, Glenn won’t make it…

If Monica channeled a large quantity of mana into Glenn, she might be able to drive away the curse. But the fix would only be temporary, and if she messed up, Glenn would contract mana poisoning. She could also try to tear the curse off by force, but she didn’t know if his body would be able to endure the process.

Monica had far too little knowledge about curses to decide the best course of action. All she could do was wait for an expert to arrive.

…I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, Glenn.

Monica’s friend was suffering, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. Even though she was a Sage—one of the greatest mages in the country. She bit her lip. It made her feel so useless.

Then they heard a modest rapping at the room’s door. Quickly, Nero checked to make sure Monica’s hood was up and her veil was on, then he cracked open the door.

Peeking in through the gap was Eliane. Her eyes were swollen from crying. She was on her tiptoes, trying to get a look over Nero’s shoulder.

“Ummm, is Lord Glenn…? How is he…?”

“Didn’t anyone tell you to stay away from here?” Nero replied. He tried to close the door, but Eliane frantically clung to it.

“Will he make it?” she asked. “He… He will, right? One of the Seven Sages is here, so—”

“Curses ain’t like magecraft, missy,” said Nero bluntly. “You gotta be an expert in the field, or else you can’t do anything.”

Eliane desperately pressed on. “Wait! The Silent Witch blocked the curse with a barrier, right? Couldn’t she do the same for Glenn?”

“Blocking it with a barrier and dispelling it are two different things. If she tries to rip it off, he could die from shock.”

Eliane let out a frightened yelp; she hadn’t expected that. Apparently, Glenn had been protecting her and a servant named Peter when he’d contracted the curse. Eliane probably felt responsible. It was as if the pretty girl’s perpetual flowery smile had wilted.

“I’m terribly sorry…for bothering you,” said Eliane, her voice shaking. Then she quietly closed the door.

They heard whimpering from the other side. Once the sobs grew distant, Nero sighed in annoyance.

“Sheesh. Does everyone think the Seven Sages are some kinda cure-all?”

Monica couldn’t blame them for thinking that. From a normal person’s perspective, magecraft and cursecraft must have seemed more or less the same. The Sages were the supreme mages in the land, so why wouldn’t they be able to handle curses?

Monica had created a makeshift anti-curse barrier using what little knowledge she’d gleaned from books and from Glenn’s symptoms, but even that wasn’t something just anyone could do. And yet Monica couldn’t help but blame herself. Wasn’t there something more she could have done?

“Cursed dragons are disasters of legendary proportions,” said Nero. “Even I’ve never seen one before. They’ve razed whole towns, haven’t they? It’s a miracle no one else was hurt.”

“But I couldn’t save Glenn… What am I supposed to say to Mister Louis…?”

Just then, they heard Glenn moan from his spot on the bed. Monica reflexively turned to look, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

The shadow seeping into his body had begun to twitch.

“Get back, Monica!” Nero tore her away from the bedside, then glared at the curse eating away at Glenn. “The loud guy’s mana level is dropping… No, wait… It’s being absorbed?”

But if the curse was absorbing Glenn’s mana, wouldn’t the shadow have gotten more active?

Is it sending the mana somewhere else? Wait, could it be—?

Nero and Monica caught on and looked up at the same time.

“Could it be sending his mana back to the green dragon?” she said.

“It’s possible,” said Nero. “Maybe the secondary curses drain mana from prey and send it back to the source.”

He went over to the window and looked in the direction of the hunting grounds. The sun had long since set, and it was pitch-black outside, but he could see small sources of light. It came from flowers in the estate’s garden that shone when they absorbed mana.

Mana-absorbing flowers came in several varieties, but they were all called spiritrests, since the light made it seem like spirits were resting among their petals.

Nero stared past these into the deep, dark forest and narrowed his eyes. “Seems like we were right on the mark. The curse is getting closer and closer to us.”

“So is the green dragon still alive?” Monica wondered aloud. “Or did it die, and only the curse survived…?”

“Need my help with this one?”

Monica thought for a moment, then shook her head and grabbed her staff from where it was leaning against the wall. “First, I’ll give it a try myself… But could you come with me?”

Nero flashed her a toothy grin. “Of course!”

Once he’d finished dining with the guests from Farfolia, Felix returned to his quarters. There, he loosened his tie and sighed.

The Silent Witch and her attendant hadn’t participated in the dinner party that night. They were both caring for Glenn Dudley. Except they weren’t “caring” for him as much as they were standing watch over his unconscious body.

Many people at the estate were concerned that the curse eating away at Glenn could attack others. A few even thought killing him would be for the best. Naturally, Felix had quickly ordered Glenn to be isolated and put under guard so that wouldn’t happen.

Ironically, this has benefited our negotiations with the Farfolians.

Specifically, the way the Silent Witch had blocked the curse and kept damage to a minimum, and how Felix had made the killing shot. The Farfolians, particularly the stubborn Count Malé, had been very impressed.

The count had seemed to be in a great mood during dinner as he praised the prince’s rifle skills. Personally experiencing a dragon attack also seemed to have made him more understanding of the need for the Dragon Knights’ new base.

What’s more, he came face-to-face with a legendary calamity and survived. I’m sure he’ll be telling that tale to everyone who will listen.

Once the Farfolian delegation went home, they were sure to spread word of how terrifying cursed dragons were all across their nation. They’d conveniently gloss over how they all panicked, unable to do anything, and make themselves out to be heroes just for surviving.

Even the Duke and Duchess of Rehnberg were calling Felix a hero. Word of the second prince and the Silent Witch working together to slay a cursed dragon was sure to spread through Ridill like wildfire.

…It’s like the script of a play.

Felix smiled sardonically, then glanced at an envelope he’d tossed onto his desk. He’d been given it upon his arrival at the estate, and it had no sender. The message in it was simple.

“Signs of disease in the king. Handle everything perfectly.”

It was an order from Duke Clockford.

Anyone who didn’t know better would think that it was telling him to handle all of his affairs perfectly so as not to burden the king while he was unwell. But Felix knew better. He knew exactly what the duke meant.

The king is close to death. Handle yourself perfectly and seize the throne as his successor.

The cursed dragon was all part of the plan.

“…Despicable,” he said in a low voice, tossing the envelope into the fireplace. As he pushed back the ashes with a poker, a white lizard—Wildianu—entered the room through a gap in the window.

He’d been keeping watch outside, and now his voice was frantic. “Master, it’s an emergency. The cursed dragon from this afternoon is approaching the mansion.”

“Really, now? I thought I shot it right between the eyes. It survived? I’m impressed.”

Felix’s expression betrayed no sign of alarm. He went over and picked up his hunting rifle, which he’d left leaning against the wall.

Wildianu, despite his impassive reptilian face, seemed disturbed as he looked up at the prince. “Master…?”

“I must handle myself perfectly. Those were his orders.”

The expression vanished from Felix’s face. His gentle smile disappeared, and he took on a cold, empty look that would send a chill up anyone’s spine.

“I’ll be Duke Clockford’s good little puppet and clean up this mess without anyone noticing.”

Felix changed into simple clothes that were easier to move around in, then slipped out of his room. Carrying his hunting rifle, he ran through the dark. He would have liked to bring a horse, but he saw a groom by the stable, so he gave up on the idea. He couldn’t afford for anyone to see what he was about to do.

“Wil, where’s the cursed dragon right now?”

Wildianu, in his white lizard form, poked his head out of the prince’s chest pocket and answered apologetically. “North-northeast, at a distance of… I’m sorry, I can’t quite tell.”

“Okay. Let me know as soon as you can.”

Wildianu’s detection abilities weren’t very good, so he could only make out a vague direction. Still, considering the dragon’s size, Felix should be able to see it once he was close enough.

The prince continued to move, making sure to stay downwind from the cursed dragon. If he could find a spot with good elevation, it would be easier to shoot. After a short run, he found just the right hill—not too low, not too high. And it had enough tree cover, too, making it a perfect hiding spot. The dark of night would also help conceal him.

Felix took a small ammunition case out of his pocket, opened it, and fed the contents into his rifle.

“Wil?” he said.

In response, Wildianu channeled mana into the bullets. A spirit imbuing an object with mana had the same effect as imbuement magecraft—only far stronger. Ammunition enhanced with mana would ensure the dragon stayed down for good this time.

Felix loaded up his rifle, then looked down the hill. It was almost time.

After a moment or two, he heard the sound of something giant slithering along the ground. He didn’t need to ask what it was.

The thing that was once a green dragon crawled forward, dragged along by the black shadow squirming all over its body. It had none of the dignity characteristic of greater dragons.

Felix pitied it. No matter what species one was, to have one’s dignity stripped away like that was deserving of sympathy.

“I’ll put you out of your misery,” he said.

Aiming wasn’t difficult. His target was large and moved at a sluggish pace. Small pheasants were much harder to hit.

Felix pulled the trigger.

The mana-shrouded bullet struck the cursed dragon precisely between the eyes, as if drawn there magnetically. That would stop the green dragon in its tracks.

Or, at least, it should have. But the creature kept moving.

In fact, it changed direction and started heading for Felix. The serpentine black shadow leading the dragon forward had chosen him as its next target.

Felix knew the green dragon was already dead. The curse was simply pulling the corpse along in its wake.

Reduced to a curse’s puppet, even in death. What a wretched creature.

His lips turned up in a thin, self-mocking smile.

“How can this be…?” murmured Wildianu from his pocket. “When the dragon dies, the curse should dissipate as well…”

Felix held a hand up to his pocket so the spirit wouldn’t fall out, then shouldered his rifle and began to run.

“Then it must not be a normal curse. Usually, these creatures are possessed by naturally occurring curses. But this one is probably the result of cursecraft… In other words, it was artificially created.”

“I don’t understand,” said Wildianu, confused. “Why would anyone…?”

“Because this whole cursed dragon affair was set up by Duke Clockford—all to make the second prince, Felix Arc Ridill, into a hero.”

The cursed dragon was now locked onto Felix. The prince tried to use the trees to aid his escape, but the shadow blended into the night, sneaking ever closer. It was only a matter of time before it caught up.

With cursecraft this powerful, there must be a cursed tool somewhere, serving as a medium.

As Felix ran, he observed the dragon approaching from behind. He couldn’t make out any visible shamanic tools.

If it were me, how would I get a tool like that into the dragon? The answer came immediately. I’d put it in its food.

If the tool was inside the dragon’s stomach, it would be nearly impossible to interfere with it from outside. A dragon’s body was protected by thick scales. It would be very difficult to make an attack reach that far into the creature.

Whoever did this must not have expected such an outcome… The cursecraft was probably too strong, and now they can’t control it.

Felix loaded another round into his rifle, then burst out from behind a tree and fired into the dragon’s lolling mouth. The projectile tore away at the oral cavity, but Felix doubted it had reached as far as the stomach.

The dragon brought up one of its thick front legs. Felix smiled hollowly, envisioning the moment it would swing its sharp claws down at him.

…What an ironic way to die.

Duke Clockford probably hadn’t predicted any of this, either.

With death fast approaching, one thought came to the prince’s sobered mind: If he were to die here, how many people would remember him?

“The prince who gave his life trying to protect the people from a cursed dragon…” I suppose that would give me a passing mark, just barely.

The prince was still caught in his obsession, even on the brink of death. The dragon’s claws sliced through the air toward him—only to be flung away with a hard noise at the last moment.

Felix’s eyes went wide, and an exasperated voice rang out behind him.

“Seems like you really like the nightlife, huh, Prince?”

A black-haired man in an old-fashioned robe trotted over to him from behind the cursed dragon. It was Bartholomew Alexander, carrying the Silent Witch on his back.

Staff in hand, she’d formed a defensive barrier that had saved Felix in the nick of time.

Bartholomew let her down from his back, then smirked as if they weren’t in any danger. “Check it out, Master. Guess this guy finally got tired of fooling around with women. Now he’s chasing around female dragons!”

Felix, far too calm for someone who’d just had a brush with death, responded to the other man’s banter. “Oh? That dragon was female?”

“Well, duh. Didn’t you see her sexy tail?”

Next to Bartholomew, the Silent Witch waved her staff. A moment later, ten or so ice spears appeared over the cursed dragon’s head, before skewering its giant wings and pinning them to the ground.

Unlike its scale-covered torso, its wings were more vulnerable. Nevertheless, you’d have trouble piercing them without high-powered magecraft. And the Silent Witch had done it so easily, without even chanting.

Now that the dragon was pinned to the ground, the black shadow rose up to attack them. The Silent Witch waved her staff again, its decorations ringing. An anti-curse barrier appeared, and the shadow bounced off of it.

“My lady! It’s cursecraft,” Felix called out to her. “There should be a shamanic tool somewhere in its body!”

Bartholomew’s eyes widened in shock. “What? Cursecraft?! But humans use that! I’ve never heard of anyone using cursecraft to control a dragon before!”

Naturally, neither had Felix. But he was almost sure of it. This had all been set up by some shaman in Duke Clockford’s employ.

Originally, the curse was probably meant to give its user control over the dragon. The shaman would then set the dragon upon the Farfolian guests, creating a situation where Felix could work with the Silent Witch to slay the creature. It would provide powerful evidence of the danger of dragonraids, simultaneously convincing the Farfolians of the need for a Dragon Knight outpost in the area and boosting Felix’s status by having him slay a legendary cursed dragon. And if Felix could give everyone the impression he was trusted by the Seven Sages, even better.

…But the shaman had lost control of the curse, and it was now running amok.

Bartholomew was still in a state of disbelief, but the ever-sharp Silent Witch immediately sprang into action. With a swing of her long staff, she made the ice spears skewering the cursed dragon disappear, and she summoned spears of flame in their place.

Blazing with crimson fire, they entered the dragon through its oral cavity and roasted it from within along with the tool.

Even as this happened, the black shadow desperately tried to resist, only to hit the anti-curse barrier and bounce uselessly back.

If the green dragon were still able to use its abilities, it might have attacked them with wind blades. But the dragon had almost no mana left. Its body was moving through the power of the curse, but it couldn’t produce any more wind.

As the shadow continued its futile resistance, they heard a muffled boom from the dragon’s belly. The Silent Witch’s flames had exploded inside the creature’s stomach.

It must have destroyed the shamanic tool, because the black shadow finally began to thin. Eventually, it disappeared completely, melting away into the night.

All it left behind was the dragon’s mangled corpse. Its green scales showed no signs of the shadowy curse.

Felix sighed and turned to look at the Silent Witch.

She saved me again.

His heart, so cold even in the face of death, began to beat again as though only now remembering its purpose. The warmth returned to his chilled fingers, and he could hear blood pounding in his ears.

He took a step toward the Silent Witch.

“Lady Everett,” he said. His voice trembled with such emotion that it surprised even him. “…Once again, I’ve been saved by one of your miracles.”

Reverence, adoration, yearning, longing—several powerful emotions shook his heart, causing Felix to act on impulse. He took the lady’s hand, intending to kiss it as a sign of gratitude.

But the Silent Witch shook her hand away.

“My lady?”

“……Ah!”

A muffled yelp came from behind her veil, and she suddenly fell to her knees. A black thread, slender as a hair, was wrapped around her left hand.

“Blast!” shouted Bartholomew, violently swatting at the thread. It snapped in midair. Part of it remained on the Silent Witch’s hand, while the rest slithered back to the green dragon’s remains.

That was when Felix finally realized what was going on. The curse—the cursecraft—was still active.

The Silent Witch, the shadow now infecting her left hand, gripped her staff and hunched over on the ground.

By the time Monica noticed the hairlike shadow creeping toward her through the dark, it was already coiled around her left hand.

She was too late; even an unchanted barrier spell wouldn’t make it in time. All she could do was swat away Felix’s hand before he could touch her, then back away and focus her mana around the curse so that it wouldn’t spread to the rest of her body.

Thanks to Nero swatting it away so quickly, only a tiny, tiny piece of it was still attached to her.

It’s not much. I might be able to hold it back with my mana…, she thought.

But the moment she tried to focus her mana, an intense pain shot through her forearm. It felt like nails were being driven into her blood vessels.

She lost control of the mana in her left hand, and it flowed into the staff she’d been clinging to. The staff fell to the ground, its decorations clattering.

Letting go of it, Monica bit down on her right arm to stop herself from screaming. Nero scooped up Monica as she huffed and groaned. He and Felix were both panicking and shouting something at her, but she couldn’t hear them. The only sound in her ears was the terribly loud beating of her own heart.

“…Haaah… Hoo… Ngh…”

Trying to slow the curse’s advance by any amount she could, Monica focused her mana in her left arm and fought against it. She felt dizzy. Red and black flashed before her eyes, and her vision blurred.

And in that haziness, Monica saw an illusion.

She could see a fallen dragon, but not the green one with the curse. The dragon had green scales, but it was only around half as big. It must have been a baby.

Eighty percent of its body was covered in the black shadow, and it was no longer moving.

Someone stood next to the young dragon’s corpse—a human. Their face was a blur, but they had the silhouette of an adult man.

“It was all going so well. It swallowed the shamanic tool… But it didn’t work. Another failure. Damn it!”

The man’s voice was bitter and hateful as he turned his back on the dragon’s corpse and began to walk away.

Then a huge, magnificent green dragon landed before him. It was probably the young one’s mother. Enraged, the large dragon chased after the human, but the human was quick and hid behind a cluster of large rocks.

At this rate, she would lose sight of the wretched man.

Never forgive! Never forgive! Never forgive!

The green dragon had only gotten a glimpse of the human’s face. If he escaped into a crowd, she would never be able to find him again.

No escape! No escape! No escape!

The green dragon returned to what remained of her child and looked down at its body, eaten away by the cursed tool.

And then the green dragon opened her mouth wide and bit into her child’s corpse. Her sharp fangs tore through the still-soft scales and skin, digging into the meat beneath—and the tool that had killed her child.

The tool contained a large amount of the shaman’s mana. If the dragon followed the mana…she would find the man.

I’ll tear him limb from limb!

And so the green dragon, now cursed, spread its wings and took flight.

She would find that hateful man that had cursed her child and kill him.

Ah…

Monica had gotten a glimpse of the green dragon’s memories. Was it because she’d come into contact with the curse?

As her consciousness faded, she understood.

Someone cursed her child with a shamanic tool… That’s why she was so angry…

The black shadow coiled around her left arm absorbed Monica’s mana and sent it to the green dragon, and the dragon’s body began to twitch and move once again. Its wings were battered and torn, its gut incinerated from within… It should have been long dead. But the cursed green dragon’s single-minded loathing continued to animate its corpse.

All she wanted was revenge on the man that had killed her child.

Her resentful cries echoed in Monica’s mind, over and over.

Before Felix’s eyes, the green dragon’s body slowly raised itself up off the ground and began to move.

He clenched his teeth. This was the worst-case scenario.

The Silent Witch’s body hung limp in her attendant’s arms. She’d probably passed out.

Felix gripped his hunting rifle tighter.

The gun could destroy the dragon’s body, but it couldn’t dispel the curse. Still, he wouldn’t simply stand by and let it kill him.

His beloved Silent Witch had fallen while protecting him, and he wasn’t going to let her die.

“…I’ll buy you time. Take Lady Everett and run,” said Felix. His expression was hard as he readied his weapon.

But Bartholomew didn’t even glance in the prince’s direction. Instead, he lay the Silent Witch down on the ground. Then he walked smoothly past the prince, and with unnaturally natural steps, he approached the cursed dragon.

The black shadow reached out like a belt and wrapped itself around Bartholomew’s body.

Just touching the curse was intensely painful. The Silent Witch had passed out after coming into contact with a piece of it no bigger than a hair.

“As your fellow, I know you don’t wish to live in such wretched misery. So I’ll do you a favor and turn you into dust in an instant.”

The darkness surrounding Bartholomew Alexander solidified and swelled.

It was a different kind of darkness than the curse eating the green dragon—it was blacker than the night sky, purer.

It grew to twice the green dragon’s size, and from it spread a pair of wings, blocking out the moon.

An overwhelming, violent aura fanned out as the creature veiled in darkness revealed the fullness of its form.

Fangs that could rip through a bull like butter. Sharp claws that could kill hundreds with a single stroke. Scales like obsidian.

All came together to form a gigantic silhouette.

This was the most feared creature in all of Ridill—a black dragon.

Inside Felix’s pocket, Wildianu trembled. Felix barely managed to stop himself from doing the same, but he couldn’t hide his utter shock. He felt a cold sweat break out on his palms.

The Silent Witch’s attendant is a black dragon? Could it be…?

Like cursed dragons, black dragons were the stuff of legends. They almost never showed themselves before people.

But Felix had seen one before. How could he forget? Half a year ago, a miracle had happened in the County of Kerbeck. The Silent Witch was said to have slain a black dragon.

It had come to roost in County Kerbeck’s Worgan Mountains, with twenty pterodragons under its command.

“The Black Dragon…of Worgan…”

The black dragon opened its mouth wide and spat jet-black flames. They were deeper and blacker than both the curse’s shadow and the dark of night, and within three blinks of an eye, the cursed dragon had been burned from existence.

A black dragon’s flames were the flames of the underworld. Nothing could block them—neither defensive barriers nor curses.

Once it unleashed them, there was no way to protect yourself. They reduced everything to ash.

The black dragon slowly reared its head, then looked down at the paralyzed Felix. Its golden eyes stared at him with a cold, reptilian gaze. They seemed to plumb the very depths of his soul.

At that point, Felix realized that he’d forgotten to breathe.

He clenched his cold, sweat-soaked hands and inhaled and exhaled a few times. His white breath faded into the night. His body began to tremble from something other than the cold, but he stopped it and looked up, meeting that golden gaze.

The black dragon let out an exhalation of air through its nose, like a laugh.

But Bartholomew’s face remained steady. He peeled the shadow off his body…and then, shockingly, he bit down on it.

Even Felix was rendered speechless by the sight.

“Tastes like crap,” said Bartholomew.

After chewing on it a few times, he spat it out on the ground. The piece of shadow slithered back to the green dragon’s body like a frightened snake.

Bartholomew narrowed his golden eyes. They glinted as he fixed the dragon’s curse-eaten body with a nasty glare.

“You broke my master, didn’t you?” he asked.

There was no wind, and yet his black hair rustled.

Then Bartholomew’s body began to turn black, little by little, as if melting into the night. Only his golden eyes remained unchanged, glittering in the dark.

Then, abruptly, its body became a black blur, like ink dissolving into water. Eventually, the blur condensed into the shape of an adult man with black hair and golden eyes, wearing an old-fashioned robe. He was once again Bartholomew Alexander, the Silent Witch’s attendant.

“Heh, I see you’re not running,” he said. “You’ve got guts, Prince.”

“I’m still quite shocked.”

Quite shocked? What an empty show of courage. The prince smiled bitterly and carefully evened his voice.

“I thought Lady Everett had slain you.”

“Yeah. We pretended she did. Better for you humans that way.”

Felix swallowed his objection. The dragon was right. If anyone knew a legendary black dragon had become the familiar of one of the Seven Sages, the kingdom would erupt into chaos.

Having a dragon familiar was unprecedented. And this was a black dragon. No such mage had ever existed in all of history.

If this became public knowledge, many would want to use the Silent Witch and her black dragon as weapons of war, or at least as a deterrent against other nations attacking. Duke Clockford certainly would.

And the Silent Witch wouldn’t want that.

Felix grew quiet, and the black dragon in human form flashed him a toothy grin.

“Worried? Terrified? Well, don’t be. I’m the Silent Witch’s familiar. As long as she’s my master, I ain’t attacking any humans.”

The black dragon picked up his master’s tiny body, then slowly turned his head to look at Felix.

“But I gotta warn you. You tell anyone about me, and…” His smile took on a vicious cast, and his sharp teeth clacked together. “…I’ll devour you headfirst.”