DREADWOLF

◈ Chapter 159:

Boom. 

 

The windows rattled as violet fire flowed out from the impact point, a wave of purple plasma that crisped the wallpaper to ash revealing and blackening the plaster beneath.

 

"Hmm. Not bad."

 

Myra waved her hands and the flame shifted, forming shapes, huge exotic bird wings, layered wings made from violet fire. The many wings curled in on themselves, surrounding her in a shell of shimmering flame, blade-like feathers enclosing, heat haze wafting outwards.

 

After a moment the fire shimmered and wisped away, purple flame flickering bright before dying to nothing.

 

She was left standing in the hall. The furniture around her turned to crisp, fabric ash, wood blackened, black scorch marks scattered across the marble floor.

 

"That was my furniture you just turned to scrap Myra."

 

"Oops. Did you like my new Skill anyway? With this I can't even be touched, and a certain highly flammable wolf won't even be able to come near me!"

 

Brax nodded his head, "I can see that being useful. Was that from your seventh leveling potion?"

 

"Eighth. But I'm starting to have the same problem of diminishing returns as you. It's the monsters that the little slimes collected right? They only seem to gather the weaker kind."

 

Brax nodded. "Yes, unfortunately, it's very rare they manage to survive deeper in the dungeon so they can take from a rarer powerful monster's last dying moments. The potions are nearly all gone anyway so it's probably for the best you're reaching the limits of what they can offer."

 

He turned. "And you Eliza, how are your levels?"

 

Eliza quickly flicked her eyes over to Brax from what she was concentrating on, her hands moving carefully as she shaped the water in front of her, a block of liquid water six foot tall. The water shifted as she moved her hands, changing, a wolf-like head appearing, then a crudely sculpted bipedal body.

 

"It's… fine. I was gaining four levels per potion at first, but after the eighth I didn't even get one level."

 

She added a tail and shaped the legs as she spoke.

 

"Is this what you remember from the dungeon? This is Rain?"

 

Eliza nodded. "I barely escaped, which is kinda obvious considering my hair." Her hand lifted to her head, hesitantly touching her hair which had been styled shorter on one side to hide that a huge chunk of it had been ripped out and was only just growing back.

 

Myra danced around the watery statue of Rain, looking him over,

 

"Humm. He seems pretty feral, like an out of control animal. And kinda small. Like, I'm nearly the same size."

 

"He isn't like this now Myra, he's far far larger." Brax scowled, "This problem needs to be nipped in the bud sooner rather than later. The longer Rain is left alone the more time we give him to grow beyond the advantage over him we've gained with the potions. This may be our only opportunity to kill him."

 

"So I've got to get it right, or I'll die, I need to guarantee his death," said Eliza. She lifted her hands, making clutching motions at the air, and then with a jerk, she twisted her hands around. The head of the water statue twisted around with them until the neck snapped, droplets flying from the rippling liquid surface to patter over the elf standing behind.

 

Myra lifted a hand and wiped a few droplets from her cheek.

 

"You know, this is cute Eliza, but this really isn't going to do anything against him, what was it you said? He just drank your water before? How is throwing more water at him going to help? Really Brax is she going to be of any use at all?"

 

Myra flicked out a hand and the water statue began to boil, huge bubbles rolling up from within and causing its surface to ripple and sway.

 

Eliza struggled to manage the thing, her hands darting around as she kept it together, steam boiling off the water surface as the temperature rose. 

 

She finally lost control and the shape disintegrated, water sloshing down onto the marble floor below. She raised her arms protectively with a cry of fear as droplets of boiling water splashed over her leaving streaks of red inflamed skin.

 

The water spread out as it fell, covering the floor of the room and wetting the bottom of her shoes.

 

The elf giggled. 

 

"You think this is funny you psycho elf!" Eliza screamed at the elf, thrusting her arms up to show her burns. "Look what you've done to me!"

 

"Aww, does it hurt?"

 

With an absolutely livid expression Eliza raised her hands into the air, palms outspread.

 

The building began to shake.

 

"Hey, uh, Eliza what are you doing?" said Brax.

 

"Did you think there was only one river running through this city? Let's see what this elf bitch thinks her flames can do when actually underwater!"

 

The walls began to quake so violently that the glass panes shattered.

 

Myra and Brax looked around in alarm.

 

"Uh, Eliza how big is this river…?"

 

"Normal sized!"

 

The ground abruptly erupted as water domed upwards, a full on underground river redirected vertically.

 

The roof blew off the mansion.

---

"Hey is this rain?"

 

"Our Rain?" said Opal by Lyra's side.

 

"No, as in rain rain, you know rain that falls from the sky."

 

Lyra held up a hand and a few specks of water dampened her palm.

 

She squinted up at the big, blue, and completely cloudless sky in puzzlement.

 

"Weird."

 

She turned and entered the shop they had been heading toward, the original goal of their outing, the essential and extremely important objective… Which was to buy something for Lyra to wear at Brax's welcoming party, something that would look the part of a filthy rich and influential noble attending a social event.

 

Inside wool space Rain peered through Lyra's wool to see various elaborate dresses hanging from racks, and behind the counter a thin man wearing severe clothing, a slender wispy grey moustache on his lip. He approached, hands clasped together.

 

Before he could speak however Lyra snapped her fingers at him.

 

"Clothing."

 

"Uh.. y-yes that is what we supply here ma'am."

"Barely. If you call these disgusting rags clothing then I can hardly imagine what you consider actual rags. No, this won't do, I require… something more." She held up a fist to emphasise her words. "Something to break all vogue, something to bend fashion itself to my will."

 

The tailor blinked behind his spectacles.

 

"We do custom-"

 

"Yes, that, give me that."

 

She flapped her hands at the tailor until he was chased into the backroom. Opal followed in his wake, occasionally poking at the expensive looking dresses as she passed.

 

The backroom wasn't quite as presentable as the display room, with bolts of cloth and huge spindles of thread stacked in every direction. In the middle of the room was a chair and Lyra stalked over to before perching her rear on the edge.

 

"I am to attend the Fenhorn function, I wish to look the part." sniffed Lyra superciliously 

 

"I can provide a ball dress that would be, ah, suitable for such an event," said the tailor adjusting his spectacles. 

 

"Just a dress? Just a dress?!" Lyra snorted her contempt. "A mere dress isn't enough, I wish to appear… Divine," she breathed.

 

"D-Divine?"

 

"Quite. I should appear as one that cannot be questioned or opposed, authority incarnate, ideal for bluffing into- I mean being accepted into a party uninvited."

 

"I'm not sure I have any idea what you mean ma'am, this isn't the place for something-

 

Lyra reached out and grabbed his shirt, hauling him down onto his knees in front of her.

 

"You just need to do as I instruct, and of course, a little visual reference for what I have in mind."

 

Her hands slapped against either side of his head and to the tailor's horror she shoved his head down into her lap.

 

Rain stepped to the side and pressed against the wall in wool space as a shocked senseless tailor's head poked through the dark. His eyes darted around wildly at the ludicrous amount of treasure in the room, essentially a treasure cavern, and then at the statue of Lyra dominating the room dressed like some kind of goddess with sweeping bolts of cloth and covered in fine jewellery.

 

The tailor gawped at the sight before he was abruptly dragged back out.

 

Lyra looked down into the tailor's eyes, his cheeks held in her hands, squishing his mouth into pucker. 

 

"So you see, I want that aesthetic, but tailored for me, and better. Also I am very rich."

 

She nodded the stunned tailor's head up and down in agreement then pushed him back. He fell on his rump before scrambling to his feet and bowing deeply.

 

"H-Had I known- yes, yes we can work together on something like this, my skill as a tailor is beyond parallel and entirely at your service."

 

Lyra smiled pleasantly.

 

"Excellent. Now this may take some hours yet, you had better close up shop and get to work."

 

Things happened rapidly after that. Working together Lyra along with the tailor started to form a dress, a new kind of dress, something that merged the best of the traditional with the godly and the divine.

 

Opal hefted a bolt of cotton onto her shoulders and lugged it over to Lyra who had a circle of the stuff spread around her, scissors in hand, loose threads in her hair. She passed a finished cut off to the tailor who placed it onto one of the many mannequins they had set out, incrementally improving their concept.

 

As Opal dropped the bolt with a thud Red darted out of Lyra's wool and arranged yet another necklace on one of the tables, a collection that was intermittently compared against the clothed mannequins or to Lyra.

 

Opal watched the process for some time, but getting bored, tried on one of the discarded designs. Of course it was far too large for her and the sleeves flopped well past her hands. She still felt very fancy.

 

She turned around in the mirror just as Lyra stepped up behind her having pulled the latest dress design over her head.

 

She froze.

 

Somehow that dress was so much more betterer despite being lesserer!

 

"Hey Sheepy, you look like you're about to start a dungeon crusade, you know that right?"

 

"A crusade to push back the dark with thy flame of civilization," spoke Lyra, her voice loud and commanding, as though an actor in a historic play.

 

Then her shoulders dropped and she became more normal Lyra, "Aheh, what do you think?"

 

"I think levelers are going to be falling all over themselves to get in your good graces, you look like peak up their own asshole leveler."

 

"Hmm, perfect!"

 

The pure white and gold dress didn't come down the full length of her legs as a traditional dress did, instead stopping two thirds down her thighs, a practical measure so that Rain could reach through from wool space to drag victims inside. What might have held the design back though seemed only to push it beyond the boundaries of fashion to something new, something fresh, something that sent a lightning bolt through what was vogue.

 

The waist synched close with a strip of cloth dotted in cloth roses and the upper half was strapless and cupped her expansive soft breasts, giving enough cleavage to drown a man in. The draping folds of the dress seemed to defy gravity and fall in the most aesthetic way possible around her thighs, light and breezy and effortless. Divine.

 

The tailor wiped his brow with a sigh.

 

"That was quite difficult, but… I suppose the result was well worth the effort."

 

"Now for the final verdict. Rain?"

 

The tailor froze as a massive black paw reached from the held together legs of Lyra and pressed against the floor, then a head pushed free from the black wool, a huge monsterous head, the kind of sight to make a leveler pee their pants.

 

The tailor staggered back, face pale as a sheet as Rain crawled from her legs and rose to his feet towering over the tailor, his ears brushing against the tall ceiling.

 

"Wh-what the fuck is that?!" squeaked the tailor.

 

"Ah, just my slave, don't worry he's not going to eat you."

 

Rain turned to see Lyra standing in front of the mirror, she smiled shyly up at him and curtsied. She really did look stunning, and to Rain's eyes, who had lived his life in poverty, she truly did look divine, like something he could imagine appearing in a sun beam at a great temple, a goddess of sanctuary, a really really hot goddess of sanctuary.

 

Opal glared up at the sheep girl then tried to copy her in her too large dress, sleeves flopping over her skirt as she made a clumsy but adorable curtsy.

 

"Both are good."

 

Lyra rolled her eyes, "Is that all?"

 

Rain dropped down and sat crossed legged then held his paws out in front, one for Lyra one for Opal, the two girls hesitantly took a pad each and Rain grabbed their arms, tugging them forward with a yelp so that they fell into his lap. 

 

He embraced them, holding them tight to his chest.

 

"Hey! You're gonna get fluff all over it!"

 

"Both are very very very good, I don't know the words to say it like a noble, I never lived a life to learn how," he said as he hugged them, after a moment the two of them relaxed into him.

 

"Mines better," mumbled Opal into his fur.

 

Lyra glanced at the goblin girl but then sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer into the three way embrace.