Chapter 11: The Wasteland

This wasn’t the first time.

And it definitely wouldn’t be the last time for someone like him who, by extension, worked for the MBE, or the Ministry of Balance and Enforcement.

The last time this actually happened, Riley had thought he was never going to be able to return home, but surprisingly, the issue wasn’t because he’d been attacked but because of the actual environment itself.

So, it’s no wonder that area had been referred to as a wasteland.

Wyrmfall, that contested stretch of Eryndra torn between territory claims, was officially a neutral zone. But the ley lines there were fractured and unstable, the weather unpredictable, and the ambient mana thick and hostile. It was cheaper to call it a wasteland than to maintain it.

And while that should have been left at that, it was places that were hard to reach, costly to regulate, and maintain that would definitely attract a different kind of crowd.

Insurgents, criminals, fugitives, and all the other unsavory elements of society who didn’t mind living in a place everyone else wanted to forget.

Honestly, when he was younger, this was the place that adults would usually use to scare off misbehaving children.

Things like, “If you don’t behave, they’ll take you to Wyrmfall,” or “Beings from Wyrmfall will snatch you right out of bed if they catch you awake.”

But as a child, a human child in particular, it was just that. A fantasy version of the monster under the bed.

Until a few years back, when he first learned that it was where real-life middle monsters hid.

Yes, middle.

Because, surprisingly, or maybe unsurprisingly, the heads of the biggest criminal organizations would usually remain unknown so they could continue to live where it was convenient while their underlings were confined in Wyrmfall.

And it was something he also learned during that first field assignment in Wyrmfall.

It started with an artifact trafficking case. One so serious that even the enforcement division had failed to recover the contraband.

The artifact was a ley siphon, a device capable of draining mana straight from Eryndra’s leylines, something so dangerous it could destabilize an entire district if misused.

Riley thought at the time that it was just another case file. A report he’d file, some meetings he’d schedule, and a bunch of press conferences to attend. After all, he was just the aide.

Until Kael had stood, sharp golden eyes gleaming, and declared, “We’re going.”

Riley hadn’t even had time to grab a spare tie.

He still remembered how surreal it felt to stand there in his neat office slacks, trying to breathe through the stench of corrupted mana, while Kael waded into the heart of the wasteland like it was his throne room.

The traffickers had been waiting for them, thinking they’d ambush some underpaid Ministry enforcement grunts.

What they got instead was Kael.

And Riley.

Not that he mattered much. And not that he wanted any of them to know who he was. Definitely not.

The goblins had come first, half-feral, slavering things that shrieked when Kael’s golden aura ignited, his claws flashing like molten steel. He tore through them as if they were made of paper.

Then came the constructs, hulking stone golems, enchanted to resist dragon fire. Riley had ducked behind a shattered wall and peeked out just in time to see Kael rip one in half with his bare hands.

The sight alone was enough to make Riley shiver.

The way Kael moved was terrifying in its elegance; it was precise, efficient, brutal. His golden form lit the battlefield like a sun.

By the time it was over, the ley siphon lay shattered at Kael’s feet, the traffickers either fled, were dead, or scattered as dust on the wind.

As for Riley, he sure learned not to cross his path, because he might not even be counted as paper.

But then, in the wake of it all, what about their vehicle?

Destroyed. Burned to cinders in the crossfire.

Which left only one option for the return trip.

When Kael shifted into his full dragon form, Riley had gawked. He couldn’t help it. The sheer size of him, the blinding brilliance of his scales.

He’d barely gotten over the sight before Kael’s claws plucked him off the ground like a doll and deposited him onto his back.

The flight back was unforgettable.

Not because of the view, though the barren glow of Wyrmfall was hauntingly beautiful, but because Riley was nearly tossed into the sky every time Kael banked. His screams must have echoed for miles.

He swore to himself, clinging to a golden spike, that he’d never forget that mission.

Mostly because he was certain he’d nearly died. If not for the fight and flight, he would have been pelted by the wind that carried all those damn stones and crystal shards.

Even now, years later, the memory of Kael’s claws shredding a golem still made his stomach flip. And the memory of dangling hundreds of feet in the air, the wind tearing at his clothes, left his hands clammy.

And yet…

Here he was again.

Needing to return to Wyrmfall.

All because the annual Accord Conference was coming soon, a tense but crucial meeting where the Ministry and the heads of all the great territories came together to negotiate and renew the balance agreements.

It was all pomp and diplomacy on the surface. But under the table, everyone scrambled for advantages.

And aside from having to deflect all those beings trying to win his boss’s favor, he also had to double and triple-check the conditions of each area.

Lord Kael was careful like that, but Riley figured that it would have been impossible to hold such a position if the great dragon hadn’t been as thorough as he was.

While the other sectors were easy to inspect, Wyrmfall had always required a different kind of care and a different approach. That was how he found himself in the back of a caravan, pretending to be asleep while wishing to just be back to deal with that unreasonable amount of paperwork instead.

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