As soon as I had stepped into the room, my many minds began assessing the situation. Active warzones were tidier than what the impromptu interior decorating had left in its wake. Smashed trays, broken bottles, and torn pillows were evident, but somehow, the massive, person-shaped craters in the walls overshadowed such details. Other than Serideth, only Blythnin and Relarina were completely conscious and alert. Some of the others remained in a state between the waking world and the blackness of unconsciousness.

Her approach, so forward and bereft of her typical shyness, did strike me as highly unusual, and dare I say, suspicious, but I also wanted to see how it would play out. Surely, she would favor attending to the others in the room over receiving my comfort and affection, for she possesses a kind and supportive nature to her character. The other two, standing there and catching their breaths, also raised a red flag or two. Considering only these three remained standing, I would guess they were the victors of the tussle that had occurred. With the rash of people going crazy around here as of late, I suspected they may not be fully themselves.

At no point had the knife coming for me escaped my awareness, but I just had no reason to feel particularly threatened by it. I am, first and foremost, a dragon, and so my regenerative powers are nothing to sneeze at. Being stabbed in the heart would hardly kill me, and, even if my heart did not heal quickly, I could use my innate mastery of magic to cycle the blood in my body. Also, my body itself is a mere facsimile of mortal forms, for I don't really "need" all my internal organs. I have seen dragons with bodies of bone, stone, metal, flowers, wood, or other materials. Even in a draconic form, the internal organs are whatever a particular dragon thinks they should be.

Beyond that, as an Emperor, my Blessing is rather advanced, and my personal defenses are so bolstered that a mundane blade would hardly pierce my skin without my cooperation. Furthermore, I didn't put so much effort into [Enchanting] just to forgo using it for my betterment. My clothes are better than most suits of armor for blocking pretty much anything, from the physical to the immaterial, from elemental magic to dark arts. My own enchantments are far more powerful for my own use than for use by others, and I keep the best quality stuff in-house. What I have on my person could buy a kingdom or two, and I know that because I have received offers to commission my services that paid that well.

Also, I have a final ace in the hole, which is what ultimately "saved" me. As the blade came down, I used Skills from [Spatial Manipulation] to create a location of stretched space, one big enough for the blade but not the guard of the knife. The sum of the knife's blade found itself sheathed in a pocket of warped reality, although to an onlooker, it did look like I had been fatally stabbed.

And while the blade came towards me, I didn't just stand idly by to let it happen. Well, I did let it happen, but I also moved to grab Serideth by the wrist while my free hand pulled her towards me by yanking on the small of her back. She quickly found herself pinned, shocked, and a little confused as Shadow magic seeped up from the floor to bind her in place with its paralytic predilections. I needed her contained if the other two were of mind to throw down.

Speaking of, neither of those two, or in fact anyone in the room, sans Serideth, had weapons drawn. This was not a complete surprise, because only a very few select individuals were whitelisted to bypass the enchantments on the building that would allow weapons to be drawn from pocket dimensions. Slipping a butterfly knife past security would not have been impossible, but I imagine Serideth managed to bypass my enchantments. For everything that exists, there is a counter. For instance, there are pickpockets that can apply their larceny to items held in pocket dimensions; the lessons of such knowledge have been learned the painful way. Other assassins that had come after me had managed to get weapons past my defenses, so this is hardly a new development.

And if Serideth had managed to get a weapon in here, then odds are that she is some manner of assassin with a Blessing to match. I'm not really angry or offended by her sudden assault on my person, but, I also cannot let it slide without getting to the bottom of why it happened. With the other two elves in the room moving to back her up, I suspect some mind control may be afoot.

She failed. She failed. She failed! SHE FAILED!

The dumb bitch failed, and now he will kill us, and I will finally be free and know peace! Sweet death, I have longed for your embrace for an age. At long last, we shall be united as one.

No, I must be free! I must fight! I must rid myself of this parasite and live my own life once more, with my own choices being made without the maddening buzzing of the one who usurps my will. I have the rest of my life ahead of me, so many things to try, so many places to explore, and I cannot be allowed to fall here.

But what will I do, where will I go? It has been so long since I have truly been in control; it would be better to let someone else make the hard choices for me.

"No, that isn't true! It will NEVER be true! Get out of my head, you bitch!"

As the other two rush me, I shove the bound Serideth to the side. My senses are all-encompassing of my surroundings, and through such means I see the tears stream down her face. No rictus restricts her display of emotions, and rarely have I ever witnessed such a complex nuance in a cascade of feeling. [Leadership] Skills are working overtime to assess everything I can about her as she falls over.

Pain is first and foremost, closely followed by rage, sorrow, and despair. A deep loathing has taken root in her, and she rails against something that certainly isn't me. She, if anything, is gladdened by her botched assassination attempt, but both disappointed and grateful that I did not end her life for such an affront to my person and for a betrayal of my trust. Whatever is going on with her, it is intense, complex, and utterly infuriating for her. Barely a spark of something else remains, but it possesses unyielding might. And what I speak of is perhaps the most important emotion of all for her right now: hope.

That will need to wait until some indeterminate time later, for the other two elves are lashing out at me even before Serideth's body has finished its descent to the floor. Both are more adept at fighting when they have a sword in hand, and, bereft of their favored weapons, they find themselves at a disadvantage. Unperturbed by such trifling facts, they lash out with clenched fists and magical Abilities.

Relarina is some variant of [Spellsword], one who weaves attacks with her blade with blasts of magic. As a hybrid of a [Fighter] and [Mage], to use generic Blessings, she can cover the weaknesses of each with the advantages of the other. Considering she has spent a great deal of time at World's Hope, a place where one can find an infinite supply of life-or-death combat, she has advanced her Blessing, confidence, and practice skills tremendously. While that doesn't close the gap between our prowess, I am trying to incapacitate her while she is trying to kill me, which does complicate matters.

Blythnin, on the other hand, is a step or two away from Diamond. Skull is too, at least in terms of martial prowess and the mastery of her Blessing, but Blythnin has far more renown, respect, and a general foundation of who and what she is in respect to the world. One could liken it to a deity having a Portfolio of Domains, for Blythin is exerting metaphysical weight upon the World Heart with the concept of who she is and what she stands for. The real danger is that she is now fighting an Emperor, and the prestige of such a battle could bump her over the hump into Diamond, which will significantly enhance her power and complicate taking her alive.

I cannot allow this fight to continue indoors where those precious to me are unconscious and defenseless against the mayhem we are about to unleash. I more or less take their attacks head-on without much regard for my wellbeing, trusting in my defenses and regeneration to handle it for now, all in favor of positioning and controlling the engagement.

With a force of will and some Skills, I unmake the walls between us and the outside while also reinforcing the adjoining walls and hallways to make an impromptu tunnel to the outside. At the same time, I rush forward through their attacks and dash down the tunnel. They give chase without a second thought because I am their target. I fare just fine, but now that we have landed on the street outside, they are no longer hampered in summoning forth their weapons, which makes them far more deadly.

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Whelps gather to me to herd away the crowd of innocent civilians that are rushing about in their attempts to find loved ones and the nearest shelters. They also have to fend off militia forces and professional Adventurers and soldiers alike, as I don't want them getting mixed up in this, especially if the mind control is somehow contagious. Instead of helping me directly, they follow the orders given to them to clear me a path so I can drag my combatants out of the city proper.

Blows are traded, mostly with me fighting defensively as I lead them by the nose. In only a matter of minutes, our battle finds itself being fought well outside the walls in the middle of the Ashlands. This particular area is barren of life, and the terrain is rather flat, so it offers favorable conditions to cut loose.

Relarina and Blythnin attack in unison, both using their most aggressive maneuvers to restrict my ability to defend myself to maximize their chances of landing a solid blow. At the same time, Serideth, who somehow escaped the Shadow magic that bound her, caught up to us and snuck up without my senses detecting her, also launched her attack. Magic is bullshit incarnate, and assassins have all manner of tricks to do the things she just did, so I cannot really complain about it.

My [Spatial Manipulation] is getting a workout to stretch space to my advantage. I am capable of punching and kicking them from far beyond my own reach, and their blows fail to find purchase on my flesh. It is not unbeatable, and even though my mana has not drained to any significant degree, it is only a matter of time until they find a counter.

And so, as they all attack in unison, I change from passive resistance to true offense instantly, targeting Relarina, for she is probably the weakest of the three. I summon forth a wall of stone to block Serideth, and likewise a quagmire of mud to hamper Blythnin. With those two out of the way for a second or two, I slide my left hand beneath Relarina's lunge, such that the blade is between my middle fingers. My movements are so quick that she doesn't even have the time to look surprised. With my left hand now firmly grabbing the hilt of her sword, my right fist strikes her squarely in the gut, knocking the wind out of her as it sends her flying backwards. Her sword, formerly in my hand, quickly disappears within my own pocket dimension.

The same trick will not work on Blythnin, for she can afford multiple backup weapons and she is far too experienced to allow something like that to happen to her. However, Relarina is properly disarmed and curled up in a ball, half retching and half crying, so that should take her out of the fight for a few moments until the mind control reasserts itself upon her will.

Blythnin normally fights with an army of clones, but she did not have the time to summon forth the golden orb that would pump them out. However, she can make a few here and there, and she is no slouch without them. Four of her clones come at me from different directions, all just as lethal with a blade as the real one. As I work to destroy the fragile things, one deftly tanks the hit and scores a blow to my shoulder. Such should not have been possible, and I quickly deduce that she has both found a counter to my defenses and she picked up a new trick to swap places with a clone.

Without missing a beat, Serideth sneaks in to stab at my side, with one hand pulling my shirt out of the way so that her blade will strike bare flesh. While her weapon of choice is not enchanted, her Blessing has put a lot of power into it, and it strikes true.

Injured in two places, and a little riled up, I grab her by her hand and swing her body into the ground over and over until she goes limp. With her out of the way and my ire rising, I toss her away towards the recovering Relarina, the pair of them crashing down in a tangle of limbs.

Blythnin used the opportunity to create a few more clones and to empower her weapon, which now glows ominously with raw magic invested with the concept of bypassing defenses. As one, her small army rushes in, and this time, I know that her weapon will more than just hurt me. Even as my previous wounds start to close shut, I take a few more glancing blows as I leave an opening for the real Blythnin to take. Of course, she is not so naive as to take it, but she does swap places with a clone in a location that has multiple options to retreat. Or at least, I gambled that she would make such a play.

With a great downward gust of wind via Air magic, I slam her and her clones into the ground. The real Blythnin lands in a magical trap I had placed upon the ground near the beginning of our fight. She is all too familiar with what they used to be able to do, but our last full-out battle was years ago in an arena, back when I was far weaker than I am now. Knowing that she can take it, at least as long as she still has mana, my trap unleashes an upward beam of fire to roast her alive. With all her clones destroyed by the harsh landing from my previous attack, she has nothing to swap places with. And, just to be certain that she cannot escape, I warp space around her to distort her perception and to interfere with any teleportation of her own.

Her screams of rage and pain would haunt a lesser man, but I have good healers on standby to patch her up, so I am not too concerned. With tough love, I let the flames run their course until she passes out, and then I grab her charred almost-corpse and toss her on the pile with the other two would-be assassins. Well, one probably is a real assassin, but by all accounts, they are not the ones pulling the strings; their bodies are being puppetted by malevolent forces.

All things considered, the three of them put up a good fight, but they never had a hope of winning. Rather than being seduced by overconfidence, a healthy dose of caution has me wondering what the plan was here. Was their role simply to lure me into position? I don't detect any other enemies nearby, so there must be something I am missing. I remain on guard, but otherwise, I prepare to do my best to cleanse them.

A dragon can absolutely make breath attacks in a mortal form, it just tends to be weaker or smaller. Before any of them can recover, I rush over and blast them all with my [Breath of Holy Purification]. I could have attempted it before, but it isn't very fast, so they could have dodged. Now with them all in a heap and unfit for maneuvering away, much less combat, the three of them take the full effect of my purifying power.

To my delight, Relarina and Blythnin certainly appear lucid and in control again, but considering their injuries, there isn't much they can do about that. Serideth, while also similarly affected, still has something inside of her that resists. I don't like where this is going, and I try to orchestrate my physical body and my magical Abilities to retrieve Relarina and Blythnin from the pile before a nefarious deed can occur. Unfortunately, my efforts were in vain, for a mass of tentacles and warped flesh burst out of Serideth, consuming the other two elves in its embrace and merging their bodies into a large bulk of monstrous flesh and malice.

With my efforts stymied, I leap backwards while transforming into my draconic self. This aberration before me keeps growing, and, not one to let an opponent power up, I hit it with the full potency my draconic form has to offer as I unleash [Breath of Holy Purification]. While the creature does make a gurgling roar of pain and anger, it regenerates fast enough that I may as well have smacked it with a paper fan. It is a being of corruption, but one so resistant to being purified that I cannot harm it through such means. That would partially explain how it could remain undetected, and thus avoid destruction, from past sweeps of the populace. These Devourers are truly adversaries that should not be underestimated.

Now I am faced with a dilemma. Should I focus on saving these three elves, or on utterly destroying the monster? I have different histories with all three of them, but I certainly am rather fond of all of them. As a dragon, I am loath to lose something of mine to theft, in as much as a person can be mine. Can I risk the safety of my city, tens of thousands of lives, for only three? It certainly looks like it could absorb more biomass and become a big ball of damned souls, so I cannot afford to trivialize the threat it poses.

A familiar presence in my shadow informs me that Skull has returned to my side. She is, arguably, the only person in my retinue that I feel confident could resist being absorbed, especially with Gulthar, her deity of choice, backing her up. Conversely, someone like Jerico would be a disaster, as her clones are of real flesh and blood, and they would endlessly feed this monster. Nanu would probably be a boon, but I see her flying about the city, putting out proverbial and literal fires, as the [Cultists] and other confederates (willing or otherwise) of the enemy are still running rampant. I could try to stall until she gets here, but this enemy before me may somehow get stronger if I delay.

I didn't know it at the time, and I can never truly confirm my suspicions, but this attack had all the characteristics of a devious ploy. It was never meant to defeat me, but it was certainly intended to force my hand, to eliminate viable paths before me until only one remained, such that I would make a decision I had wanted to avoid perpetually. I can respect such commitment, cleverness, and dastardly machinations, but I certainly do not appreciate being on the wrong side of it.

With the real battle before us, Skull and I prepared to give it our all. We had been training extensively to work together, and our combat lessons with Nanu have honed our practical expertise with using our Abilities and in using wise strategies in combat. This would be crucible of sorts, for the World Heart would observe it and weigh the outcome against all parties.

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