57th of Season of Fire, 59th year of the 32nd cycle

Four hours later, Newt had managed to protect the small town at the base of the mountain. The dragons' roars had grown muted, and the saurians had stopped spewing out of the jungle.

He had killed five third realm manabeasts and a bunch at the second realm. There were certainly cores to extract, but Newt found time a more important resource than the cores, despite how illogical it was.

That was stupid. A third realm core is worth more than a million Harthows.

Newt looked around, only one third realm corpse still glowed with mana in the fading sunset, the rest of the cores had either shattered upon the manabeast's death or the body had drawn the energy in the desperate attempt to stay alive by any means necessary.

Newt approached the longclaw's corpse, and with several well-practiced slashes, tore the core from within its chest. He stared at the trinket. What was impossible wealth just three years ago had become just that - a trinket.

His glaive was worth countless times more, as was his time in the special meditation chambers back at the order, and the benefits he received from surviving the wrath of the heavens. To his clan, however, the core was precious, and Newt would give it to Stronggrow as soon as he returned.

Newt took a wobbly step and looked at his legs with disappointment. Come on, it's only been four hours. I've been running for days without stopping. This should be nothing.

While the physical exertion didn't quite match the marathon Newt ran, the stress of constantly looking out for targets and avoiding the manabeasts' opportune attacks had strained him mentally.

Newt surveyed the corpse-littered ground and winced. So much wasted food. Worse, it will turn into a breeding ground of illness and death.

He considered it for a moment, but organizing people to harvest the corpses was as impractical as it was dangerous. Instead, Newt glanced at the resources at hand, and found the most meat per pound he had to drag back. He beheaded the dead longnecks, chopped off their tails, and tied up the necks and tails together, then dragged them towards the castle.

He was bringing back thousands of pounds of meat, enough to last the refugees a week or longer. As he climbed the winding road, reaching the castle, Salamandra family's knights led by Plowson rushed over to help him.

"Leave the manual work to us, Patriarch."

Newt saw no reason not to, so he left the clan guards with the heavy lifting, and returned to the keep to check in with Stronggrow.

"Teacher, catch."

Stronggrow caught the precious orb without a flicker of surprise. "Good work, thank you, Patriarch."

The reaction disappointed Newt, but he had more important matters to address. "What of the dragons?"

"They didn't stray from their course until they moved beyond the mountain. I don't know anything more." The old teacher's expression was grave in the flickering light. "We can only hope the people living there managed to escape in time."

It was a false hope. An obvious one. The odds of normal people outrunning a large gathering of dragons was nonexistent. Even if the conflagration descended on Explorer's Gate, they would've killed more students and champions than the Blood Cult did, let alone non-awakened towns and villages.

"We can only hope that killing non-awakened humans is beneath a dragon's dignity," Newt said, making Stronggrow stare at him.

"Beneath their dignity?" He repeated incredulously. "Why would slaying their enemies be beneath their dignity?"

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"Well, ants sometimes annoy you, Teacher, but I don't see you chasing and stomping them just because they are annoying."

Stronggrow stroked his beard. "That is true, and considering their size, we really are like ants to them. Perhaps they won't bother."

A silence descended upon them as they considered the poor souls in the living conflagration's path, before Stronggrow spoke once more.

"What do we do if they come here?"

"We head into the mines and seal the entrances. At most, the dragons will breathe fire into them several times, but I can dig us out later. They won't fit into the tunnels, and I don't see them digging through the mountain just for random people." If they knew about me and Magmin, though, they would dig to the heart of the earth.

"You seem surprisingly knowledgeable about dragons." Stronggrow said, and Newt resisted his instinct to stiffen.

"Yes," Newt said a tad too energetically, "Explorer's Gate has many books on various topics, and I've read about runes, volcanoes, and dragons, since that's the direction I wish to move forward in."

Stronggrow's suspicious look lingered, and Newt could feel the old man connecting the dots. Had he understood the dragons' screeching, he would've gotten confirmation of his budding suspicions, but Newt played dumb and stayed silent.

"How did it go outside? I watched for a while, and your moves and control were incredible, but after the sun got into my eyes, I couldn't see anything and went to work on administrative tasks."

Newt took the chance and changed the topic. As they moved into the keep, he summarized the battle as tedious but profitable, going into more detail as they sat, and finishing the story by calling the monster core their greatest gain, with the food he brought back as a distant second.

"Patriarch," Marrow rushed into the room. "An airship landed in the courtyard."

Newt was already running past him.

"Dignity, Newstar!" Stronggrow shouted behind him. "Dignity!"

"Blood and bloody ashes!" Newt heard a familiar voice shout in the courtyard as he rushed out of the keep.

Lord Flameax stood there, with fists on his hips, glaring at the damaged airship.

"A dragon attacked us! Can you believe that?" he shouted and turned as he sensed Newt's approach. "It's good to see you, Newstar. I won't ask how you've been; these moons have been a trial for us all."

Newt bowed. "Lord Flameax, I'm glad you're safe. Is Master fine? Did she come with you?"

"Your master is fine. She was away on a mission, but I'm sure she would've come had she been near the island. Others are also worried about you, but the gatemaster forbade anyone beyond the sixth realm to come. He said it would draw unwanted saurian attention, but it seems unwanted saurian attention is already upon the region. A seventh realm dragon attacked us, damaging the airship's shield, but the main lightning rod's blast drove it away."

Newt's heart sped up. "Lord Flameax, how big was the dragon?"

"Over a mile long, why?"

Will it call the rest of its kind back for help? Should we evacuate?

In an act of supreme discipline, Newt answered his instructor's question. "Because we have spotted multiple dragons, which we believe were much larger than the one that attacked you. Didn't you spot an entire conflagration of them while flying?"

"Not that I'm aware of, no, but I'll ask the captain just in case. I should pay my respects to the patriarch, but considering that's you and you're my student, I'll just officially say the order has sent aid to their star student, and that we'll be in your care." Lord Flameax grinned and winked, but somehow the gesture made Newt even more uneasy.

"Brothers and sisters of the Explorer's Gate are always welcome in my home and always will be, Lord Flameax. Did any of the brothers and sisters I know come with you?"

"Your former teammate Roselilly is here, as are Rexheart and Twochains." Lord Flameax looked over Newt's shoulder and nodded. "We old men will discuss practical matters while you reunite with old friends."

Lord Flameax then sidestepped around Newt and went over to talk with Stronggrow, escaping the difficult topics hanging over the seemingly casual chat with Newt.

Roselilly, Twochains, and Rexheart approached, all three of them seeming years older than the last time Newt had seen them. Hints of cruelty and sharp decisiveness plagued their eyes and faces, all three with weapons visible, scanning the surroundings for danger, manabeast and cultist alike.

When his eyes met Roselilly's the woman rushed over to him and embraced him in a bone-breaking hug.

"I was so worried I lost you too," she whispered in his ear, the softly spoken words smashing into him like a trihorn.

"Obi, Jas?"

"Dead. So many dead. I feel like I'm cursed," Rose sobbed, letting go of Newt and hugging herself. "All my teammates are dead. All of them except you." She looked him over with the saddest, most wretched smile Newt had ever seen. "Please stay alive."

"Don't worry." Newt felt wetness on his cheeks. "I'm not going anywhere. The good die young, while curses like us will live forever."

Rose's lip wobbled, and she tried to smile again, but the smile wanted nothing to do with her. Instead, she just cried and hugged Newt once more.

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