All the skills 3 a deckb.., p.38
All The Skills 3: A Deckbuilding LitRPG, page 38
In answer, Brixaby stepped back and then removed the brown dragon they’d fought last night from his storage space.
Chapter Forty-Seven
“Brix! What—”
Arthur was cut off as the newly released brown dragon roared in rage and took a swipe at Brixaby. He had, Arthur noted, extremely long claws.
Also, it said something about how singularly angry the brown was that he didn’t even hesitate after instantly—from his point of view—going from night to day, and facing a dragon roughly the size of a cat to one the size of a small horse.
“My card . . . give me my rider’s card . . .” the brown growled, yet managed it in a lyrical cadence.
Brixaby might be larger than he had been before, but he still had amazing, almost supernatural maneuverability. A quick buzz of his wings took him into the air and kept him just out of reach of the angry brown’s claws.
“What are you waiting for?” Brixaby yelled back down at Arthur. “Use your Mental Shield skill!”
Oh. Of course.
Chiding himself for being too stunned to react, Arthur reached for the skill. It was easy—he’d done it dozens of times that day already.
Unfortunately, it made no immediate difference to the brown. He was still very much trying to kill Brixaby, sing-screaming, “Give me back my rider’s card . . . his card . . . his card . . .”
What was going on? Why was this dragon still under the Mind Singer’s influence?
Maybe he was so angry about the card that he was trying to kill Brixaby anyway. Dragons were protective over their riders.
“Brix! Give him back—” Arthur had to quickly duck as the brown whipped around, its tail swiping over his head with the force of a whip. “Give him back the card! He might be more reasonable!”
“Or he might attack me with earth magic,” Brixaby yelled back, still effortlessly ducking swipes. “I should just consume the card and then fight back.”
That caused a bellow of rage and despair from the other dragon.
Arthur straightened. This had gone on long enough. “Don’t be cruel. Do you even want an earth power?”
Brixaby gave a put-upon sigh as if he wasn’t currently dodging back and forth with claws missing him by inches. “I suppose not.”
“Give the card to me,” Arthur said.
Brixaby glanced back over his shoulder at him dubiously, but with a loop that took him over the brown’s next swipe, he doubled back and bolted over to Arthur using a Sprint skill.
Arthur extended his arm, and the card dropped from Brixaby to land neatly in his grasp.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Brixaby muttered as he flew over him.
Honestly, so did Arthur. The only thing he knew for sure was that either the Mind Singer had her metaphorical claws dug in so deep that his skill couldn’t break the brown out, or she had used a different technique for him and his group instead of the main battle group. The latter seemed more likely.
That meant Arthur needed another way to reach the true dragon inside.
But he wasn’t going to be stupid about it.
The brown dragon let out a roar that literally shook the ground and made the pebbles dance around Arthur’s feet. He charged forward, giving every indication he was about to squish Arthur and take the card back.
So Arthur grabbed a pair of scissors from his Personal Space and shoved the card between the blades, ready to snap down.
The brown skidded to a stop, horror writ large on his face.
“I’ve never cut a card in half before,” Arthur said, almost conversationally. “I don’t think it will be easy—they are magic. But I happen to have advanced levels in a tailoring skill, including one called the Perfect Snip. I think I can manage.”
The brown said something so garbled that Arthur couldn’t understand. White froth had collected on the corners of his mouth and dribbled down his jaw. His eyes were rolling and looked insane, but all of his focus was on Arthur.
Finally, he managed to collect himself a little and muttered, “My card . . . Return my rider’s card . . .”
“I will,” Arthur said. “But first you have to answer some questions. Where is your rider?” Part of him wanted to ask about the Mind Singer—not that anybody had been able to answer that so far. He had to start small.
The brown dragon made a frustrated sound. “He’s at home—at the hive—he’s—” The dragon trailed off, then briefly looked confused before anger once again reasserted itself in his gaze.
“If he’s at your hive, then why do we have his card?” Arthur asked.
“You took it from me,” the brown growled. His words were fierce and deep, but for once, there wasn’t any hint of a lyrical cadence in it.
A sudden hunch made him try another tactic. “Tell me about him. Tell me about your rider.”
Brixaby, who was hovering nearby, snorted. “Why do you want to know about an Uncommon rider? He can’t join our retinues.”
Irritably, Arthur waved him off. That wasn’t helpful.
“Mine is the best rider,” the brown said defensively to Brixaby. “He loves the earth just as much as I do. He doesn’t care that I’m only an Uncommon with a basic card. He picked me out from my hive’s nursery out of dozens of browns, and I would do anything for him. And when she came . . .” He stopped, cocking his head as if puzzled.
“She?” Arthur asked. “The Mind Singer?”
Mentioning her name was a mistake. The brown’s eyes clouded again, and he looked at Brixaby with pure hatred. “We have to kill you, or else she . . . she . . . she will . . .” But again, he stumbled to a stop.
“What did she tell you?” Arthur asked.
“To kill the dark dragon. Keep his rider alive,” the brown snarled. “Our lives would be forfeit, but our riders . . . Our riders would be free . . .”
Brixaby hovered lower. He didn’t say anything, but he watched the brown dragon, his expression troubled.
“Then why,” Arthur asked, “do you have his card?”
“Stefan gave it to me—straight from his heart. He told me to use it to do what she said. Then I could come back to him . . .”
Arthur felt his heart clench at the story, but Brixaby had another take.
He puffed up, daring to fly right in front of the other dragon’s nose. “Well, you failed to kill me, so what are you going to do to save your rider? Surely you don’t intend to serve the one who captured him? A scourgeling?”
“I . . . if I bring her your core cards, I . . .” The light in the brown’s eyes briefly flared, but he didn’t finish. The brown dragon shook his head ponderously back and forth as if confused. “I don’t want to serve a scourgeling. She . . . she’s a scourgeling?”
“The antithesis of dragonkind,” Brixaby confirmed. “And you’re helping her.”
“She put you and your friends under a spell. Do you remember attacking us last night?” Arthur asked, stepping forward. “Do you think that you would normally attack another hive—attack a Legendary dragon if you were in your right mind?”
“I don’t even fight normally,” the brown said, looking at his long claws. He seemed at that moment very lost. “I move the earth.”
Arthur felt that they were on the verge of a breakthrough. “What’s your name?”
“Digger.”
That was the most stereotypical brown dragon name Arthur had ever heard of, but it fit this dragon completely. He had an unusually short neck and powerful limbs—just the type one would think would be at home close to the ground.
“And your friends? The other dragons last night?” Arthur asked, taking a chance. “Who were they?”
Sure enough, the brown picked up on his wording. “Were?”
“You remember last night,” Arthur repeated calmly.
New skill gained: Deprogramming (Mind Healing Class)
Due to the Master of Body Enhancement’s bonuses, you automatically start this skill at level 3.
Arthur blinked in surprise. Deprogramming? What an odd phrase, and yet he understood its meaning completely: To break the hold or sway of someone who had been charmed. And the class was interesting. He felt that it was a borderline skill, as close to mind magic as his Mental Shield skill was.
The brown shuddered from the tip of his nose all the way down to the tip of his tail. “Their names are—were—Blood Dew, Vivi, and Charling. They came with me. They . . . we attacked you,” he said, in dawning realization, blinking and looking at Arthur and Brixaby. “You killed them.” Then, with a flash of teeth and a bit more anger, he repeated, “You killed them.”
Brixaby snorted without any pity. “The little red dragon poisoned herself with a Legendary-level card, but not before killing one of my dragons. On the orders of a scourgeling.” If he were human, he would have spit to the side.
Suddenly, Digger’s eyes were clear. He snarled, flexing his claws. “A scourgeling has my rider!” Then he looked at Arthur. “And you still have his card.”
“I was just keeping it for you, until you felt more like yourself.” Out of sheer politeness, Arthur hadn’t read the card. But as he extended his hand to return it, he just so happened to flip the face of it his way.
Stone Skin
Uncommon
Body Enhancement
The wielder of this card will have access to the Stone Skin body enhancement, which will harden the outer layer of skin to that of the consistency of basic granite. However, this will not impact the wielder’s flexibility or agility. This card may be used for one hour per 24-hour rolling basis. There is no mana cost.
Arthur wished that there was some way he could keep the card for himself, but he didn’t think Digger would appreciate that.
Digger plucked the card out of Arthur’s hand with surprising dexterity, considering the length of his claws. He let out a sigh as he added it back to his secondary core.
“Tell me what you remember,” Arthur said.
Again, the dragon shuddered.
“Stefan and I were out preparing a new field for planting. He’d built his card deck around farming. I don’t like vegetables much, but the animals that eat the vegetables are tasty.” Now that he wasn’t murderously angry or under the Mind Singer’s spell, Digger spoke in a slow, rolling cadence. It was easy to imagine this dragon linked to a farmer. “I heard the music on the wind and thought it was kind of pretty at first. We paused to listen. We thought there might be a festival soon. But then the music started to speak to me, and I had no choice—I had to listen. I had to obey.” Another shudder. “I don’t know why she picked me for the job to attack you. Some people were able to sort of fight it—I think Stefan was one. I don’t know why. He didn’t have a mind card.”
“Arthur once fought off the Mind Singer, back when I was in an egg,” Brixaby added proudly.
Digger eyed him for a moment, but then nodded.
“Did she say what her plans are?” Arthur asked.
“No, she didn’t share her thoughts with us. Only orders.” He paused. “But there was something funny going on with the hatching grounds. I remember she kept all the nesting mothers close. Had to keep an eye on them. Some were able to fight her. As you know, dragon mothers can be vicious.” His lip curled upward to show teeth in the dragon version of an appreciative smile. Though, like Brixaby, he didn’t seem too concerned about the eggs.
“Her dragons went after the hatching grounds here,” Arthur said. He looked at Brixaby. “Do you think that could be related?”
Brixaby shrugged. So did Digger.
“I may be only an Uncommon,” Digger said, “but my rider needs me. If you plan to go after this scourgeling, I want to join you. And if you don’t—I’m going to go after her anyway.”
“Well, I hope you’re ready to fight soon,” Brixaby said, unconcerned. He had turned back to look at the hive. “My second-in-command, Joy, has returned. And she looks angry enough to kill.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
For once, Joy did not live up to her name. When she landed, she was nearly vibrating with rage. Cressida, sitting on her back, had an equally stormy expression.
“What happened—”
But before Arthur could finish, Joy exploded. “Every single egg has been taken by those . . . those mean nasty monsters! I hate them! Egg-nappers are mean, and evil, and . . . and no one was able to stop them!”
“Many of the nesting mothers are gone, too,” Cressida said, voice tight. “Chablis and the rest of the council believe they followed the kidnappers. A search party from the hive was sent out—we waited until word came to report back. I would’ve sent a message by shadow, but my mana is almost out.”
“Just the eggs?” Brixaby asked. “Was anything of value stolen as well?”
Joy’s head snapped around to Brixaby, and for the first time in their friendship, she pulled her scaled lips back from her teeth and hissed at him. “The eggs are important—more important than your stupid head!”
Brixaby reeled back as if he had been slapped.
“Whoa there.” Digger stepped forward and placed a large brown stumpy leg between the two of them. He looked like a teacher who was separating children just before a schoolyard fight. “Young pink, that is a Legendary you’re challenging.”
“I’m his second-in-command, so I get to call him a stupid head anytime I want!”
For his part, Brixaby looked more confused by her anger than offended.
Arthur decided to redirect the conversation. “What did the search party find?”
Cressida still looked angry but was frowning at the bickering dragons too. She turned her attention back to Arthur and shook her head. “They’re gone. One of the silvers detected magic up in the sky—we think that they had another portal user with them.”
Arthur felt the particular swooping sensation in his gut that came when he knew he had overlooked something. He didn’t remember releasing one of the shiny green portal users from the Mind Singer’s influence. There had been a lot to do, and in the back of his mind he assumed that perhaps the dragon had died. But he still should have checked—or sent somebody to check for him.
If I had a full retinue, I would’ve had more subordinates I could trust, he thought with an inner wince.
“The greens who opened the original portal needed that mana silver to help power it. But maybe they had enough personal mana to keep it going for a small party,” he said.
“What would a scourgeling want with dragon eggs?” Joy practically wailed. She looked distraught enough to cry, had she been human.
“She had an interest in our hive’s dragon eggs, too,” Digger said reluctantly. “But I don’t know why.”
Cressida turned back to Arthur. “One more thing: Chablis demanded that you report to the council immediately. By which, she means her,” she added, unusually acidic.
“We do not jump to the council’s orders,” Brixaby snarled. “They should be on their knees thanking us for saving their hive.”
She shook her head. “You made them look incompetent today. They won’t be thanking you.”
Privately, Arthur agreed with Cressida’s assessment. But his feelings were more in line with Brixaby’s. Arthur took a deliberately slow look around, just in case they were being spied on by someone with a divination card.
The last few minutes had seen the final dragons from the battle mostly clear out. Healers and sympathetic folk were still working with the grievously wounded and overlooking the fallen. But all the living had been broken out of the Mind Singer’s hold. That was the important thing.
There wasn’t much left to do here.
Still, Arthur made no attempt to jump to Chablis’s command. He found a couple of rivets that had been knocked out of place in the chainmail he wore and spent a few extra seconds using his Metal Shot card to smooth them down.
Then, casually, he looked up to see everybody was staring at him. Brixaby, smugly. Joy and Digger with open curiosity, and Cressida with amusement. She knew what he was doing.
That reminded him.
“Cressida, Joy, this is Digger. His rider is currently being held hostage back in his hive. He’ll be joining us to fight the Mind Singer until we can get him back.”
Joy perked up. “Nice to meet you, Digger, now that you’re not mind-scrambled. So that’s the plan? We’re going to save the eggs and rescue your rider? That’s so sad, Digger. I’m sorry about him. I’m Joy, and this is Cressida, and we’re happy to have you join our retinue. What’s your power? Oh, I bet it has to do with earth because you’re brown. Wait, is that rude to say? I’m sorry if it is, I’m just really excited—”
Thankfully, Brixaby cut her off.
“Yes, the dragon out for revenge will be quite a potent addition to my retinue. Welcome, Digger. What other interesting cards do you have? You mentioned moving earth?”
Chablis, Laird, and three of her council members were gathered on top of the mesa, arguing with each other, with some glancing up sour-faced as Arthur and his small retinue descended.
Arthur was past caring about what they thought. He was too busy relishing the feeling of flying on his own dragon. That wasn’t going to get old anytime soon.
Also, Brixaby was always good for an impressive entrance. He buzzed straight down, managing to keep his body level the whole way. He made it look effortless, but he must have been working hard not to unseat Arthur because Arthur received a Dragon Riding skill-up from that maneuver.
Meanwhile, Digger and Joy came in to land the traditional way, by sailing in and dumping altitude.
Laird gave Digger a considering look, obviously recognizing the other dragon, but he said nothing.
“It’s about time,” Chablis snapped. “Explain yourself.”
Arthur didn’t bother to dismount Brixaby. The dragon only stood as high as a donkey, anyway, and Arthur liked looking down on her, just a little. “You asked for me to defend the hive, and I did. Successfully.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. You raided our card library—our wealth! After we took you in, sheltered you—”
