Arthur looked down at the children, before sighing.
Ultimately, his goal was to kill all of the dragons, to fundamentally destroy their society. So, the adults needed to die for that.
But children were not necessary to the goal. Yet, despite that—
'Blood is useful. So, if I really wanted to, I could… but should I?'
To kill or not to kill. Arthur remembered his own past, or at least the feelings from back then. So, he made his decision.
Arthur looked at the officer, and spoke.
"Very well. I'd rather avoid killing them. Kids are meant to be protected, and I feel stupid for even debating it. I'm sorry," he said.
Arthur gathered all of the blood that he could, before he went back to the building, collecting his original amount of blood which had cooled down.
He leapt into the sky, sprouting wings and flying away.
He himself was quite tired, as he'd done a fair amount of healing. He soaked the blood into his body, and continued to fly away.
'Let's see, which family should be next?'
Arthur checked the phone, the screenshot that was taken which had the map of the families. He found that, not too far away, was the Zeus family, representing the Storm Dragon.
'They might be a bit tough. But that's nothing I can't handle now.'
He continued to fly as fast as he could, soaring through the skies.
…
The Scent of the Traitor was getting stronger. So, naturally, the members of the Zeus family did what they could to prepare.
One such member, Raiden Zeus, a tall man with a lean and athletic build, smiled smugly.
He got off the couch, yawning and stretching his arms out before putting one hand on his hips.
"So, what's the plan, everyone?" He asked the rest of his family. They all looked at him and shrugged their shoulders, getting up from their activities and going down to the basement to get armed.
Raiden went to his room, grabbing two hair bands and typing his long white hair up into buns atop his head, the front still having hair over his face.
He bent down, grabbing a long box from underneath his bed. He opened it up, before grabbing a long, black halberd with thunder patterns all along it.
In his hands was the Dragonslayer, a weapon made specifically for, well, killing dragons.
Raiden then went down to the basement and grabbed his armor, which consisted of a chest plate made from dragon scales, along with boots from the same material.
He saw his entire family, who had gotten prepared along with him, asking them,
"Hey everyone, can you all do me a favor?"
His family collectively rolled their eyes, before nodding their heads. They had known what he was going to ask, as he truly was a combat junkie.
Raiden gratefully yelled "thanks!" Then, he left the house, jumping up on top of the roof, raising his halberd in the air.
"Alright! First come, first serve. Please let me eat till I puke!"
Such was his declaration, swinging his halberd over his shoulder as the scent grew even stronger, until he could see Arthur in the distance.
'A fight to the death, where both combatants are pushed to their limit, where the victor is decided by who can evolve in their suffering! That's the essence of what it means to be a dragon!'
'Continuously burning yourself and others to ash, and being reborn as something new, something stronger! That essence, that thirst for greater heights is what defines a dragon!'
All that mattered was the pursuit of power. The power itself wasn't everything. It was hunger that gave life meaning.
So, while Arthur was still flying, Raiden leapt through the skies, and the clash began, where blade met blade, cutlass versus halberd.
And at that clash—
…
'Huh?'
Arthur fell to the cold, hard floor, his eyes being met with reddish brown bricks. He looked, finding his cutlass gone, and his body felt weaker.
'Where am—'
"Oh dear," a voice rang, sounding monotone and tired, belonging to a woman. "It seems I've been given a cellmate. How annoying."
The immediate stench filled his nostrils, and he covered his nose. He turned around, seeing a woman with long, really long, pink hair sitting down, clothed in a black dress.
Her face had acne, though it still was rather beautiful. And as Arthur looked down to take note of her appearance, he found that her arms seemed very thin, and though it didn't matter much, she was not large in "that" department.
"Klegh, what the fuck is that smell?!" Arthur yelled, as it seemed to be the most immediate problem. She looked over at a bucket in their in fact rather large cell, probably as big as a living room.
"The bucket… is it used for…" Arthur muttered. He waited, wanting an answer.
"Since you seem to have lost your tongue awaiting an answer, I'll tell you as it is. That bucket is filled with exactly what you think it is, and it's only cleaned once per week," she said in an annoyed voice, mad that he refused to pick up his words in anticipation of an answer.
"Eagh… where the heck am I? I was just about to fight, so…"
"We reside in the basement of the Strat family, the Space Dragons."
"Space dragons? Sounds like the title of a crappy-but-fun movie," he stammered, pinching his nose.
Then, a door opened and footsteps went down. What arrived in their gaze was a man of average height with tied back black hair.
"Ah!" He squealed. "It worked! How lovely!"
Arthur grit his teeth and tried to summon his weapon. However, it failed him, and would not leave his body. So, he rushed forward, but his leapt only went a few feet in front.
'What the…?'
"Ah! See, we are descendents of Strat, the Space Dragon. We can manipulate space. We brought you in, and in fact, put away your dragon-stuff. That's the fate of anyone who is within that cell you've been transported to!"
"You…"
"We'd heard that you didn't have long to live due to steroid use. So, we decided that instead of trying to kill you, we'd just wait it out. You've got a month to live, as even if your dragon blood is essentially gone, the effect is still making the steroids stronger!"
Arthur growled, standing up and backing as far away from the poop bucket as possible, which the woman was doing as well.
"Ah, yes, since there's two of you now, I'll have to have two buckets! And twice the food as well!" The man said with a smile. "Well, I'll be back! You two, feel free to converse as much as you'd like!"
The man left, and Arthur looked at the woman. She did not turn back to see him, and hugged her knees to her chest, looking down at the stone ground.
"Um…" Arthur whispered. "What's your name?"
"Rachel," she said. "And you are?"
"Arthur. How long have you been here?"
"I don't know. The passage of time is dulled when there's nothing to do and when you can't see the sky. However, judging by my circadian rhythm, maybe around a month. Give or take."
"Ah-" Arthur said, as a bucket fell down near the poop bucket, making a loud noise.
"Fuck my life… this sucks. It feels like the start of a very, quite literally, shitty porn movie."
"Ah. Please refrain from saying such things around me, it's gross."
And on the topic of grossness, Arthur recoiled from not just the stench of the bucket, but Rachel as well.
Being trapped in a basement without any showers led to acne buildup, greasy and smelly hair, and a dirty body.
"Ah, whatever…"
He sat down, putting space between them as he was kind of hesitant to be near her. Some time passed in utter silence, so, out of boredom, he spoke.
"Well, I got kidnapped because I was going to try and kill every dragon, but what about you?" He asked, just throwing it out there to satisfy his boredom.
"I'm being held ransom for my family. However, I may very well die sickly in this very basement, seeing as there's been no update."
"Ah, okay. That sucks."
"It does. And can I ask you something as well?"
"Ah, shoot for it."
"Would you please kill yourself?"
"...Huh?"
Truth be told, he was dumbfounded. He followed up with a "why?" To which, she explained,
"Well, I'm sure it's obvious how awkward it would be to use the bathroom in each other's company. So, please do commit suicide, as it would spare me the embarrassment of seeing you or risking being seen by you while I'm using the restroom. As well, it might lead me to having some good food for once."
She continued.
"Or, at least speed up my death due to food poisoning."
"No, why don't you kill yourself then?"
"Because then I wouldn't inherit anything from my father. In his will, I am supposed to have 10 million dollars when he croaks. I refuse to willingly end my life before I get that much money, especially for the convenience of someone who's going to die in a month."
"Ah. Well, I won't kill myself, at least not now."
"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"
"No."
"Tch, then why are you even here if you're not going to make yourself useful?"
"Quit being such a bitch."
"I am a woman, not a bitch. Please do not refer to me as such, or I shall punch you."
"Aren't dragon things gone in this cell? Even if you have a strong Dragon Art, can't I just beat your ass if you punch me?"
"I never said that I would win, only that I would punch you."
…
A few hours had passed, and Arthur went around trying to figure out different ways to escape. Firstly, the bars that caged them were very tough, not easy to break.
The layout was a large room, with about half of it being closed off in a cell. So, it would seem that it was impossible to escape, a deeply hard pill to swallow.
And then, a new problem appeared.
See, for the past few days, Arthur hadn't slept. And while he hadn't slept, he was either flying or fighting. It was only the occasional time he took to drink water, as the multiple bodies he'd eaten provided him with enough calories to last him a month at least.
That said, he did use the bathroom every now and then such as on the plane and the like. But this time, it wasn't pee or poop that he needed to use the bathroom for, but rather—
"Ah… I'm horny."
Steroids raised his libido, and he'd not relieved himself in a while.
When he said it out loud, he felt like a total idiot. He glanced at Rachel, who stared at him with disgust.
"You say that as if you're expecting something," she said. "If you're so porn addicted that when you see a man and woman together in a cage and one of them proclaims their horniness, you expect the other to satisfy them, then you truly are disgusting."
She continued.
"No woman is looking for a porn addict. And if they are, it's with truly evil intentions. You are going to die alone."
"I didn't mean it like that!" Arthur pleaded. She snorted a scoff.
"Sure you didn't. Please, keep the noise to a minimum, as I would not be acceptable in marriage if my ears are violated in such a manner."
"Ah, yeah…"
Arthur went to the buckets, and since it technically was his bucket, he decided to use it. He pulled down his pants forward, looking at his genitals.
Due to his steroid use, it had shrunken his testicles. While it is not a factor in all steroid users, the amplification of his steroids through his dragon's blood was enough to guarantee such effects.
He plugged his nose, and felt quite insecure now, as he'd lost a vital component of being male.
'Not like I was going to use them anyways…'
He closed his eyes, and—
…
He spat on his hands as a way to "clean them," before going back over. Rachel looked at him with disgust and pity, not saying a word.
'I don't have much time until I die. I wonder, should I just…'
He wondered whether to just stick it out and die. Or, if he should continue to try to escape.
Upon visualizing death here, he imagined his final month being with Rachel. They were already in forced proximity, and the only people they would see for quite some time.
In doing so, his heart skipped a beat, as he felt miserably sad for thinking such things.
He snuck a glance at her, as she kept her head down, looking at the ground with closed eyes.
The basement was quite cold, as it was winter. And with reduced resistance, the cold did bother them quite a bit.
His heart did flutter a fair amount. He kept it in check with his pessimism, but he did admire her.
Her hair was long and greasy, smelling awful. Her face had acne as a result of being unwashed for a month or even more. And she was thin, dangerously thin.
But despite all of that, she was a woman who he could talk to. Her insults, whether they be lighthearted banter or genuine dislike, were right at home with his self-image.
So, when she muttered "cold…" underneath her breath, he felt bad for not being able to do anything about it.
Her breathing grew softer and softer, until she went on her side, her body going limp. Arthur himself was feeling rather tired.
So, when the man returned once more quietly with his teleportation, and asked Arthur if he needed anything, as he was a VIP guest, Arthur asked for a blanket, pillow, and some water.
Such things were eventually teleported into Arthur's hands, and he drank the water, before going over to the heavy sleeper of a woman and placing the blanket over her.
The pillow he used for himself, using it as a blanket when propped up at an angle against the wall.
Wasn't his goal to kill most dragons? Yes.
However, two things stopped him. Firstly, was the fact that he kind of needed her to be alive as he wanted someone to talk to. They were in a similar predicament, so he couldn't kill her so easily.
However, the larger reason was love. Or perhaps lust might be a better word.
He didn't exactly want to get physical, but he did like her. Her body was nasty, but Arthur still found her beautiful.
Simply put, he ignored his goal of killing dragons because she was all he had and kind of hot, with her personality being perhaps the most compatible for someone like him.
It didn't help that he'd just come off the cusp of being unable to protect a woman who he held close to him. His desire to help and love this woman was piggybacking off of trauma and love.
Take Lucy for example. She was a beautiful woman who could play with Arthur and talk with him. However, both of them knew they would never be anything more than friends, and Arthur earnestly preferred it that way.
But with Rachel, such limitations weren't set in stone. It was his final month, his fantasies of dying peacefully with her had been the spark which set his heart ablaze in love and lust.
Though, it was truly mostly lust.