Their plan was simple but effective: it required three stages, primarily devised by Vanessa, using her experience and knowledge of magic to maximise their chances of success.
The three stages of the plan were named Confrontation, Deception and Restriction. For this to work, Vanessa would have to separate from the group for most of the battle, despite this, her role was equally crucial.
As for the others—Dorian, Aya, and Shadowbound—their first task was locating the person behind the attack. This was no easy feat for an ordinary adventurer, but luckily, Dorian possessed the necessary abilities.
Sitting down, Dorian waited with his eyes closed, one hand resting on the obsidian-like blade and the other on the ebon draconic hilt. He inhaled deeply, drawing in as much mana as possible.
When he exhaled, every part of the sword except one part radiated black energy—the only exception being the scarlet ruby embedded in the dragon hilt's eye. Waves of darkness pulsed from Dorian, surging past the wagon, beyond the treeline, as far as his senses could reach.
Shadowbound watched with keen interest. How could an adventurer so much younger than him be so far ahead in detection? What a monster, he thought. If this was Dorian's skill in an area he didn't prioritise, how formidable was he in actual combat?
The sheer thought of it was harrowing enough.
For Dorian, the world of colour faded into monochrome—his vision now dominated by thermal signatures. Weaker individuals emitted dim flames, while those of greater power burned with a blinding white flame.
What set Dorian apart was his refined perception. When mana surged, the flames intensified, and Dorian could pinpoint where mana was being used. But where others saw only a general aura, Dorian discerned precise fluctuations.
He had mastered this ability with his eyes closed—even with them open, he could anticipate strikes by reading his surroundings and his opponent's movements.
However, with the core objective being to detect where the sadistic mage was, it wasn't long before he was sure to locate them.
After a moment, his focus locked onto one signature. Faint tendrils of flame extended from this figure, connecting to hordes of dimmer flames moving in unison, In hoards.
This had to be it. This explained the Goblins that were native to the forest, being empowered. Moreover, the thermal signature from which this all stemmed was powerful.
It matched their target perfectly. Dorian opened his eyes.
Vanessa asked expectantly, "Well, Dorian? What did you see?"
"Found the bastard," Dorian replied. "From what you described, this is our guy. If not, we can always fly back."
Shadowbound stiffened. "'Fly back'? We don't have time to waste—with all due respect, we can't fly! Our only transport is wagon or horseback!"
Dorian laughed incredulously. "You doubt me, Shadowbound?"
Though Shadowbound's expression remained neutral, something in Dorian's demeanour made him hesitate. There was a reckless, chaotic energy about him—yet he nodded regardless.
Dorian smirked, glancing at Vanessa. "We can set out now. The village isn't far, right? That should give you enough time."
Vanessa checked her wristwatch. "Yes. If I'm correct, I'll reach it in fifteen minutes. If you want to fly, then fly."
Dorian signalled the wagon driver to halt, allowing Aya and Shadowbound to disembark. The driver immediately resumed the journey, the wagon soon disappearing from view.
Moonlight bathed Dorian as he stood motionless, as though drawing strength from its glow. He began drawing in everything, the wind rustling against his face, the distant movement of the goblins scurrying through the trees and everything else.
Aya raised an eyebrow. "Are you ready, Dorian, or will you keep obsessing over yourself?"
Dorian chuckled —Shadowbound seemed to share her sentiment, "It's necessary, Aya, I promise I'm not some narcissist." Then, with a surge of vast power funnelling into his blade, Dorian commanded, "Emrys, rise from your slumber."
Shadows coiled around him, his sword wreathed in a black aura. The energy pulsed outward, whipping the wind into a frenzy—leaves scattered, wildlife fled. Then, the shadows collapsed into the earth.
A claw—massive, onyx-scaled—slammed into the ground, gripping the soil as it hauled itself free. The creature shook its head, as if rousing from deep sleep.
Shadowbound recoiled. Dragons were native to Fedradia, but in Elaijya? They were unheard of. How was it that this adventurer was in possession of one? He had only heard very few members of the Eshvir forest, even seeing one, but potentially riding on top of one; well, he would be the first.
The black-scaled beast lowered its head, nuzzling Dorian's hand. "Hey, Emrys. Long time no see."
The dragon rumbled in response. Dorian turned to the others. "Well? Are you getting on?"
Aya, now accustomed to this, climbed onto Emrys' back, gripping Dorian's waist. Shadowbound stood frozen.
"Well?" Dorian called. "Ready, Shadowbound?"
Swallowing his unease, Shadowbound mounted the dragon. "Where should I hold onto?"
Dorian shrugged. "Anywhere you can. Nobody taught me the 'proper' way to ride a dragon until I got on Emrys. Just hold tight."
"Wh—" Shadowbound's question was cut short as Emrys' tail lashed against the soul, sending rubble scattering everywhere and his wings propelling them towards the sky.
To say Shadowbound screamed like a child would be an understatement. He clung to the gaps between scales, white-knuckled, while Aya pressed against Dorian, arms locked around him.
Dorian, however, was utterly at ease, navigating the starry expanse with practised precision.
Eventually, Shadowbound managed a strangled question. "Where did you even get such a creature?"
Dorian's focus remained ahead, his usual carefree demeanour tempered with seriousness. "Emrys isn't just a creature. He's part of me. As for where I 'got' him—an old mentor entrusted him to me. I intend to honour that."
With a burst of speed, they were quickly reaching their destination. Emrys hovered, wings beating steadily.
Dorian turned. "Aya."
Her eyes met his—sharper, more reserved than before. Something had changed in her. Dorian understood; he had been there himself, maybe he still was. So instead of probing into her resolve, he grinned - saying in a 'Dorian-fashion', "Ready to kick some ass?"
She nodded -ready to reclaim something she had felt she had lost alongside Xerxes.
Dorian addressed Emrys. "No fire near the trees. I won't be blamed for burning down the entire damn forest. Only attack those who threaten us. Understood?"
The dragon rumbled in agreement, in a way Emrys felt sad that Dorian was only treating him as transport services and flashy entrances. "Remember, I need you both to get rid of any goblins within the surroundings, whilst I initiate the fight."
Aya and Shadowbound both understood their parts to play, and that allowed them to continue.
One moment, they hung in the air—the next, they plummeted. Dorian leapt from Emrys' back metres before reaching the ground, with Emrys' dark scales concealing the other two adventurers as well as himself in the night sky.
Dorian spun like a cyclone, flames erupting from his blade in a 360-degree arc that engulfed both himself and the enemy in a concealing inferno. There was nowhere to run, not for the orchestrator of this attack and Dorian himself.
He landed with a heavy thud, gaze locked ahead.
Before him stood a figure clutching the 'artifact' Vanessa had suspected—the source of the beasts' control, it seemed to be some 'grimoire' that branched its mana to different sources of creatures, which were in fact the goblins.
The man stood like a giant; he was cloaked in a luxurious vermilion and black cloak, he wielded a wand in his free hand. As he noticed Dorian land, he flinched beneath his hood. Dorian's sudden appearance had shattered his confidence.
"You're the one controlling the beasts?" Dorian demanded. "The one behind this attack?"
The man cursed. "How—how did a child find me? A child! No—this is fine. He said nobody stronger would interfere…" His laugh was brittle. "You can't harm me. You're just a brat with nothing better to do than ruin our plans!"
"Tell me, was all of this worth it? Was it really worth it, attacking Eshvir, just for you to die?" Dorian said with a smile, that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"YOU SPEAK AS IF YOU HAVE ALREADY WON! No, I will be fine, haha, after all I had prepared for this, GOBLINS ATTACK."
Concealed by the shadows, a horde of goblins jumped there had to be 20, no 30 of them, but Dorian had already knew that far before he had arrived.
Dorian's eyes flicked left, then right, calculating. Flames licked up the length of his blade, casting a dark glow across the battlefield. With a sharp breath, he broke into a sprint. The enemy mage stood barely ten feet away, cloaked in smug certainty that this would be enough.
The goblins closed in, snarling at him.
Dorian didn't slow, instead, he hurled his sword forward. It struck the ground with a dull clang, landing just metres ahead. "Purifying flame," he roared.
In response, black fire erupted from the steel, tendrils of searing heat swept across the field. The flames quickly found their target, the goblins. They shrieked as the flames caught them, clinging and consuming, until all that remained was the promise of their death.
He moved before the mage could even understand what he had just witnessed.
In a single, fluid motion, Dorian reclaimed his sword, the hilt warm against his palm. Power surged through him. He leapt, closing the distance between them in a blink, and landed with the silence of an assassin.
He met the mage's wide eyes, which were engulfed with disbelief.
"Nothing could have prepared you for me."