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Brewing Bad Ch. 174-175
🕑 Added 2025-08-11 13:59:01 +0000 UTCCh. 174 - The Perfect Ambush (part 2)
Lucas fell end over end for several seconds before he stabilized his fall. That gave him just enough time to decide how he wanted to land but not enough time to come to grips with the fact that he was probably going to break every bone in his body. Endurance potion, don’t fail me now! He thought desperately the moment before impact.
It didn’t, either. Though he didn’t quite stick the landing as he’d planned when he rotated to land on his feet, and he’d left a hell of a divot in the lawn where he’d made an impact, he was more or less fine. It hurt like hell, but he was able to climb to his feet, which was a win, considering he should have been a paraplegic at a minimum.
For a moment, he almost ran. Where, too, he hadn’t decided. For cover? To Heisenburgle? To his lance, maybe? Lucas didn’t know. His mind was racing, but it wasn’t able to keep up with everything that was happening. One thing was for sure, whatever he did next, he shouldn’t be running.
“I gotta make her think I’m as fucked up as she is,” he grunted to himself as he looked up in the sky and saw her shaky flight. He’d done real damage to her wing, and the last thing he wanted to do was spook her.
Instead, he limped a couple steps, then made a big deal of pulling out a healing potion and flipping her off. “Is that the best you got, Sklara?!” he yelled.
Really, he wasn’t even sure if she could hear him. It wasn’t until when she roared, “Vermin! Your luck has run out!” and circled to attack a second time that he realized she could.
Then, as Lucas limped toward the cover of the burning hedge maze, he went through his options and hit upon one he hadn’t even considered until now. The ring! He thought triumphantly, desperately hoping dragons couldn’t see magic or infrared or whatever.
Lucas waited until he was in the thicker smoke near the entrance to the burning foliage. Then he activated the ring and sprinted to where the lance had fallen. He noted then that Heisenburgle still hadn’t moved from the trench his impact had carved into the lawn. He was either dead or playing dead, which was a pretty prudent strategy where dragons were concerned. For now, it didn’t matter which. When this was done, Lucas would help him. For now, he crouched by the lance and waited for Skylara, who was diving toward where she thought he was like a bird of prey.
He didn’t move until the last moment. Not until it was far too late for her to pull up. Then, he raised the tip of the mithril-reinforced lance when she was only feet overhead, and then he stabbed her with it with all his might. The tip skittered off the scales of her underbelly for half of her length before it found purchase in a gap. Then, Lucas was able to thrust it several feet inside of her, somewhere near her intestines. On its own, it was not a killing blow. However, it would be.
Before she could fly past and yank the thing out of his hand, he pulled the trigger, and the lance roared as the sparks detonated the fire dust that powered the thing. Lucas didn’t see the poison go inside of her, but he didn’t get his fingers blown off either, so it was a good sign that it worked.
An even better sign was when she lost control, crashing somewhere in the midst of the flaming hedge maze, though he doubted very much that he’d been lucky enough to kill her with a single blow. Lucas looked around for another weapon but, finding nothing, decided to pursue her barehanded. He had only a couple minutes of strength left, and he had to make them count.
He ran through the burning maze, looking for her crash site, which took only a moment because the impact she’d left behind was massive. Heisenburgle might have dug a small trench with his tiny armored body, but Skylara left an impact crater. If she’d hit the nearby palace instead of the garden, she probably would have leveled it just as easily.
Even in a place like this, though, she’d left a minor hellscape. Twelve hours ago, these gardens had been beautiful. Every flowerbed had been weed-free, and every hedge had been trimmed within an inch of its life. Now, they were nothing but kindling and ashes. The lawn, too, looked like a jet had crashed there, which was basically what had happened.
A dragon had bombed the place like some kind of jet fighter, then crashed, ruining everything that she hadn’t already burned down. Even the stunning nature of that destruction didn’t slow him down, though. Lucas was on the clock, and he was going to turn into a pumpkin any minute.
Skylara might have been in rough shape, but when she saw him, she still raised her head and opened her mouth to kindle one last gout of flame. Lucas still had his cloak, but even so, he didn’t hesitate. He might not have a weapon, but he had something for this. He through one of the Wyrmsbane Poison Fog Flasks in her mouth like a fastball, and just as her fire began to rise, the glass shattered, filling her giant maw with green, poisonous smoke.
That led to a coughing fit that allowed him to close the remaining gap without being burned to a crisp. “You insolent whelp!” she spat as she tried to avoid choking to death. “I never should have spared you because of my affection for you.”
“Affection?” Lucas laughed as he surveyed the damage. “You let me keep breathing because I was your goddamn dealer. That junkie logic is as bad as Adin’s.”
Skylara was in bad shape. One of her wings was broken, and the sluggish movements of her body showed him just how quickly the poison was working. If he fled now, he’d surely live, and she’d probably die. He couldn’t do that, though. Probably wasn’t nearly good enough to pay for her many crimes. He needed a corpse.
“Do not compare me to a mortal! I’m not a junkie. I simply indulge in the delights the world has to offer!” she spat. “Why shouldn’t I? I’m a queen and the immortal ruler of these lands!”
“Immortal, huh? Weird because one of us was always going to die tonight,” Lucas answered, ignoring her boasts, “and I’m starting to think it’s not going to be me.”
“Why did I ever let you fuck me…” she gasped, wrestling with larger issues, in complete denial of her impending death.
The lance was broken and twisted beyond repair, so instead, Lucas walked around to her broken wing and retrieved his sword. As he went, he gave wide birth to her head, which didn’t lash out at him. Her leg did, though. Fortunately, the effort was half-hearted at best. Her bulk had been a formidable weapon up until now, but at this point, she was too weak to defend herself.
“Bad news, bitch,” he answered with a shake of head. “The only time I was ever inside of you was right now, with this lance. I don’t fuck monsters.”
“But… that night, in the palace…” she murmured in disbelief as he approached her giant head. She tried to lift it, but whether that was to talk or to strike, she was too weak even for that. The poison was obviously doing a number on her, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him.
“What can I say? Some people are better at faking it than others,” he told her. “And you, madam, do a shitty job of pretending to be anything but a piece of shit.”
“How dare you,” she growled, “You can’t kill me. The Prince will—” but Lucas responded by stomping on her muzzle to shut her up before leaping forward and ramming nearly four feet of poisoned steel into her eye socket. He didn’t know for sure if his sword was strong enough or long enough to reach her brain, but the way that she trembled and shuddered and then lay still showed him that it was.
“I don’t give a fuck what the Prince does,” Lucas spat as he twisted the blade and released it. “I don’t give a crap how much this nation needs you or how powerful and rich you are. You tried to burn my girl to death, and now you’re paying for it.”
Lucas meant what he said. There were lots of good reasons to let the dragoness live; there were almost as many reasons to let her live as there were to kill her. She’d done a lot of bad things, but he didn’t care about any of that. To him, this was entirely personal. If he was a hero, it was only to Danaria.
Still, even as he finished striking that blow, as the dragon grew still, he felt weaker. When the agility potion wore off a few seconds later, he started to shake, and before he walked free of the hedge maze, his endurance failed him, too, leaving him with nothing but exhaustion and pain. It was over, but he couldn’t make himself feel happy about it. Not until he checked on the gnome, at least, and maybe not even then.
Ch. 175 - Amongst the Ashes
By the time Lucas reached Heiseburgle, he was already so weak he could barely disconnect the hoses of the armor or remove its screwed on helmet. For a moment, he didn’t even do that much, because he worried the thing might be too hot for the gnome; he couldn’t tell. His cloak made even hot metal seem cool.
If it’s too hot for him, then he’s already cooked, Lucas told himself, trying to shake himself free of the indecision of that moment. Either way you’ve got to get him the fuck out of there.
When he got the helmet free, he saw that the gnome was indeed breathing, though he had quite a concussion and was bleeding from the scalp. Lucas forced a healing potion down his throat, and then, unable to take the damn armor off without a wrench, he dragged the unconscious gnome out of the burning garden, and to the dewy grass beyond it.
“God you’re fucking heavy for a little guy,” Lucas grunted, slowly pulling the gnome through the wreckage as he avoided the worst of the fires.
There, Lucas found not just Heisenburgle’s men waiting nervously near the road, while the rest of the servants cowered near the manor house. He ignored the latter group and motioned for Heisenburgle’s men to come closer.
“Is he… Did he…” one of the gnome's assistants asked as they came over.
“He’ll be fine,” Lucas assured the man, adding a silent probably to the end of that statement. “Just get the tools, and get him out of this armor, and then get him back to the Blackgate so someone can tend to him.”
“What about the Hyperquadabulator?” the third man asked while the first one started tending to their boss and the second one ran back to the wagon for the wrenches they’d need to remove his armor.
“Fuck the Hyperquadabulator,” Lucas answered dismissively. He knew that the gnome would be pissed to hear that, but they could take care of it later. “I’m going to go to the stables and get a real horse to go back to the city while you guys—”
“What about the dragon?” the assistant asked, interrupting him.
“She’s dead, no one will have to worry about her ever again,” Lucas sighed, annoyed that he had to repeat such stupid things to such supposedly smart people.
“No, I mean, should we launch the flare?” he asked.
Now Lucas was confused. “Flare?” he asked dumbly.
“The flare that will set all of the contingencies I’ve planned in motion,” the gnome rasped, before coughing up a lung full of smoke. “Did we really do it? Is she really dead? Is that possible?”
“Don’t ask me,” Lucas answered, willing himself not to breathe an obvious sigh of relief that the healing potion had worked. “Look at your talent and tell me.”
Lucas couldn’t see what he did, but from the widening of his eyes, it was clear that the bargain he’d struck with his god had been fulfilled by both parties. He only gave Heisenburgle a second to appreciate that, though, before he asked, “Now will someone please tell me what fucking contingencies we’re talking about?”
Even as he asked the question, the assistant who had asked the question was lighting a mortar tube on a stick, and then holding it skyward. Heisenburgle opened his mouth to speak, but when the thing went off, everyone was deafened for a moment as an ugly red-orange flare soared into the sky where it detonated in swirling whites and golds.
“The contingencies that must be carried out in the event of Skylara’s death,” Heisenburgle started again.
“Uh… Shouldn’t I have been included on this?” Lucas asked, worried about what the gnome might have just set in motion. “What did you just do?”
“Well, I called in the butchery crew I had staged nearby to come and start harvesting her carcass,” Heisenburgle answered, letting Lucas breathe a sigh of relief, which made sense. Her blood alone was probably worth a fortune, and when you added the scales, skin, and teeth, well, it was something he should have thought of. He would have if it had been anyone else, but he’d wanted her too bad to care about any of that shit.
Lucas was about to thank him for his foresight, a rarity for sure, but in this case, well deserved. That was premature, though, because before he could open his mouth, the gnome continued.
“We also have to blast Skylara’s lair shut. I have men ready to start work on that immediately as well,” Heisenburgle said. That struck Lucas as extreme, but prudent. A dead dragon would spark a literal gold rush. However, before he could ask about that, the gnome finished with the real doozy, “And of course, the Prince must be informed of this development. I—”
“You what?!” Lucas exploded. “You’re going to tell him? Let him find out in a day or two, like everyone else! We have shit to do before he strats cracking down on everyone and their brother. He’s going to freak!”
Heisenburgle let him finish, but only he had another coughing fit as he was finally freed of his armor. “Everyone will, as you put it, ‘freak,’ and the Prince must be prepared for that.”
Before now, Lucas had planned to ask more about the dragon’s horde, or maybe tag along. He might have even stayed to watch the gnome’s men butcher and drain a dragon corpse, but now all of those options were impossible. He had to move.
“Damn it, man, why didn’t you tell me you were going to do any of that?” Lucas asked, stunned. He’d just started thinking the gnome was reasonable, and now he blindsided Lucas like this.
“Mostly because you didn’t ask, or, dare I say, plan for it,” Heisenburgle answered. “Though even if you did, I confess that I wouldn’t have told you about notifying the Prince.”
“Why the fuck not?” Lucas demanded, resisting the urge to drop kick him.
“Because if I did, you would have taken it very poorly,” Heisenburgle answered. “While it may look like I did this to you for entirely selfish reasons, I also did it for him, and for the kingdom. So I prepared a long memo, explaining… Hey! Where are you going?”
Lucas didn’t stay for a long-winded sermon. While he doubted that he could catch Heisenburgles rider, he could certainly get his ass into gear, and while the man talked, he ran for the stables. Along the way, he ignored any of the servants who asked questions and decided not to go upstairs to fetch his things. He had a change of clothes up there and a few potions, but it wasn’t anything he needed, though, if he’d had one of Heisenburgle’s positions of wakefulness he might of made the detour, because her was exhausted, and this was exactly the wrong moment to do this shit.
“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” he grumbled to himself as he rushed to get ahead of events. He killed a damn dragon; he should be give a parade and a week off, maybe even a nice honey moon, but right now none of that mattered. All that mattered was getting his friends together and warning them about what was to come before the world freaked out.
So, he ran into the stable, picked out the nicest-looking horse in the place, and then started to saddle it. A few minutes later, he was riding down the road to Lordanin as fast as he dared, worried about everything that was going to happen, and soon. The most he could do for now was take a sip from his endurance flask. That helped some, but his eyelids still felt very heavy.
Lucas nodded off in the saddle several times. Mostly, his chestnut gelding just slowed down to a walk and kept going, but once Lucas woke up to find himself sitting on it while it nibbled at grass growing on the side of the road. He did his best to stay awake, but given all he’d been through, that bordered on the impossible. Each time it happened, though, he lost a little more time.
Lucas reached the city by dawn, but he didn’t go straight in, not the way he looked. The guards would have questions, and answers would be complicated given the state of things. Instead, he rode around the city, reaching Meadowin before most were even up.
It was here that his urgency started to fall apart. While he could see the partially finished building that would be his new home and his lab standing there, not so far from the main square, no one was staying there. Why would they? It didn’t even have a roof.
He’d kept himself purposefully ignorant of where Kar’gandin, Hura’gh, and Danaria were these days in case Heisenburgle betrayed him to the Prince and the mad whipped up a spell or a truth potion to make Lucas talk. That had seemed smart before, but now it was an obstacle.
Still, he only had to look blearily around the place to find an answer. While he didn’t see any signs of his gang, he saw the bakery open for business, and he moved quickly to it and went inside. Even if I don’t know where anyone is, everyone else will, he told himself. In a town like this, there aren’t any secrets, and even if the baker doesn’t know, my favorite herbalist will.
Fortunately, he didn’t need to bother Casarra to find that answer. The baker was happy to tell him; she didn’t even seem to know it was supposed to be a secret. “Why, the Lady Parrin is staying at the old Townsend farmstead, along with her servants what survived the fire,” she told Lucas without much prodding. He didn’t know where that was, but she was happy to tell him.
After that, he was off once more. The sun was fully above the horizon now, and he was dead on his feet, but he was almost there.
When he arrived, the first thing he noticed was that what had once been a small farm had become a sort of armed camp. The barn looked to have been converted into a bunk houses, and there were a dozen tents between there and the farmhouse.
He’d planned to run and find Danaria first thing and wake her up. He didn’t have to do that, though. Instead, he found her in the garden, humming to herself while she played with a few song birds.
That was enough to distract her, almost until he reached his woman. After he dismounted, though, she turned to look, and that distraction made whatever power she’d been using fail, sending her little flock chirping in all directions as she gazed at him in shock. No, not shock, he realized as he approached her, denial. She simply couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“Lucas?” she asked. Her tone told him she didn’t believe her own eyes completely. “Is it really you? But you said…”
He could have answered her questions and reassured her. He could have worried about how filthy his clothes were, and how he shouldn’t rub them on her dress. He could have done a lot of things, but in that moment, she was an angel lit by the sunrise and surrounded by flowers and song, and all he could think to do was kiss her.
He devoured her mouth with his, dipping her slightly as he swept her into his arms, and after a moment, she reciprocated. He knew she had questions; he did too, but right now no question was half as powerful as his need for her. He’d buried his emotions for her for months as he’d done his best to pretend she’d died, and right here, right now? It was like she was born again, and all of those emotions he’d locked away exploded out of his soul.
Everything was for this, he thought, basking in that moment, as he wished it would last forever.
Comments
alexander
"He through one of the Wyrmsbane". through -> threw?
alexander
"in case Heisenburgle betrayed him to the Prince and the mad whipped up a spell or a truth potion to make Lucas talk". mad -> man?
