Leonard descended the creaky wooden stairs, opened the door, and stepped into the yard. The night air hit him, sharp and cold, laced with the tallic tang of blood and the acrid sting of acid. For a mont, he hesitated. After three months cooped up inside the house, the open space felt almost alien.
But the grisly scene before him quickly grounded him in reality. Bodies lay strewn across the frost-covered ground, so disfigured by acid, others bearing wounds from musket fire. This was no dream, it was the aftermath of his actions.
"Stand up," Leonard commanded, his voice steady.
The lizard man, still kneeling nearby, obeyed imdiately. It rose to its full height and approached Leonard with deliberate steps. Only now, standing close, did Leonard grasp its sheer size. At over two ters tall, the creature lood over him, its muscular fra casting a shadow that seed almost inhuman.
As Leonard studied it, he noticed a charred mark on its chest, blackened and dusted with the remnants of gunpowder. The sll of burnt flesh mingled with the acrid stench in the air. Clearly, the musket shot had struck ho, but the creature's formidable body had shrugged it off.
"Master," the lizard man said, bowing slightly. Its voice was deep and gravelly, but there was a surprising note of deference. Leonard raised an eyebrow, intrigued by its deanor.
He regarded the creature, once a man nad David and mused silently. 'Fear alone isn't enough to ensure loyalty. The control spell might instill terror, but it can't inspire genuine obedience. There must be more to this.'
"Why didn't you run?" Leonard finally asked, his tone asured.
David hesitated before replying, his reptilian features betraying a trace of sothing human. "Master, where could I run in this form? What place would accept now?" He let out a bitter chuckle. "Master Alfonso promised to provide for my wife if I cooperated with his experints. I have nothing left but that promise."
Leonard tilted his head, intrigued. "You ca back for a promise? And yet you seem... oddly content."
David nodded, glancing at his hands. "Before this, I was a baker. Years of kneading dough left with lungs full of dust. I coughed constantly, and every breath felt like a struggle. But now..." He paused, flexing his clawed hands. "Now I feel stronger than ever. No more sickness, no more pain. If you allow it, I can still bake for you. My hands may have changed, but I haven't forgotten how."
The admission caught Leonard off guard. "A baker?" he murmured, more to himself than to David. mories of his uncle surfaced, another baker who had worked himself to exhaustion, plagued by asthma and eczema from the constant exposure to flour. Leonard had seen firsthand the hardships of the profession. Late nights, early mornings, and endless toil for ager profits.
He understood David's resignation. 'As a lizard man, he could never return to the life he knew. The human world would reject him outright. His only option was to stay close to those who could protect him.'
Leonard nodded slowly. "Very well. For now, help clean up this ss."
David imdiately got to work, his massive fra moving with surprising efficiency. anwhile, Leonard turned his attention to the scattered remains of the attackers. Judging by their uniforms, leather armor emblazoned with the imperial crest, they were likely town sheriffs from the nearby settlent. Each carried a standard-issue musket.
One of the firearms caught Leonard's eye. He bent down and picked it up, inspecting it closely. The musket was roughly 1.5 ters long and weighed a solid five kilograms. Its design was simple but functional, a percussion flintlock.
Leonard tested its balance, frowning slightly. "Primitive," he thought. The weapon was a relic compared to the advanced firearms he rembered from his previous life. Still, at close range, it was lethal. A well-placed shot could kill instantly.
But the flaws were apparent. Accuracy was abysmal at anything beyond short range, making the musket little more than a gamble in open combat. "Point, shoot, and hope for the best," Leonard mused with a wry smile. "Not exactly inspiring confidence."
Leonard exhaled, his grip tightening on the musket. The night was far from over, and the quiet wouldn't last. But for now, they were alive. And that was enough.
Leonard carefully gathered all the flintlock rifles scattered on the ground, inspecting each one. The weapons were well-crafted and functional, hard currency in turbulent tis. "If I sell these on the black market," he thought, "they'll fetch a decent sum."
Though the kingdom officially banned the sale of firearms, the reality was far different. Guns moved briskly in underground markets, especially now, with unrest brewing. Wealthy individuals, paranoid about their safety, would pay handsoly to arm themselves.
Leonard slung two rifles over his shoulder, deciding to keep them for self-defense. Their crude but reliable design might co in handy if trouble found him again.
He crouched and began searching the bodies more thoroughly. Around the waists of several fallen soldiers, he found a dozen small deerskin pouches. When he gently shook one, the contents rattled inside. Curious, he opened it.
Inside were tightly wrapped paper cartridges, each one sealed with oil paper. Leonard opened one, revealing precisely packed gunpowder and a small lead bullet. He nodded in satisfaction. "Enough ammunition to keep these rifles useful for a while."
As he continued his search, David approached, holding out a small brown leather bag. "Master," the lizard man said, his voice low but respectful.
Leonard took the bag and shook it, hearing a delightful clinking sound. When he opened it, his eyes glead. Inside were silver coins, their polished surfaces catching the moonlight, and a handful of copper coins of varying sizes. At the center of each silver coin was an engraved figure of a woman, her hands folded in front of her.
Leonard paused, glancing up at the moon. The resemblance between the engraving and the figure he saw on the moon was striking, about 70%.
Pouring the coins out into his palm, he noticed sothing unexpected: a single gold coin among them. Gold coins were rarer and far more valuable than silver. Each king in the kingdom's history had minted their own gold coins, with the quality and gold content varying widely depending on the kingdom's wealth at the ti. Counterfeit gold coins were common in so regions, but silver coins, by contrast, maintained a relatively standardized value and were the backbone of everyday trade.
Leonard chuckled as a story about the kingdom's currency ca to mind. Decades ago, a notoriously stingy marquis had minted substandard silver coins so impure they turned black. When his deceit was discovered, his attempt to pass them off as wages for his knights and servants sparked outrage. The scandal didn't end until the marquis conveniently "fell" from his horse during a hunt and beca partially paralyzed. Shortly after, he abdicated in favor of his son and died under suspicious circumstances. The new marquis reissued proper wages and recalled the tarnished coins, restoring trust in the currency.
Leonard pocketed the coins and stood, glancing at the remaining rifles. "Too many to carry," he muttered. "If only I had so kind of spatial storage item."
David had finished clearing away most of the debris, stacking the remains of the broken weapons and armor. The yard, though still stained with blood and acid burns, was beginning to resemble sothing less chaotic.
Leonard glanced at David, whose reptilian form stood silhouetted against the faint light from the house. "David," he called, his voice firm but not unkind.
"Yes, Master?" David replied, turning to face him.
"You've proven yourself useful. Keep it up, and there may be more for you than just survival." Leonard's eyes narrowed slightly. "For now, let's focus on staying alive. Bigger challenges are coming, and I expect you to be ready."
David bowed deeply. "As you command, Master."
David remained quiet, watching him as he weighed his options. After a mont, Leonard nodded decisively. "We're heading to town," he announced.
David blinked but said nothing. His hulking reptilian form, however, was far from inconspicuous. Leonard frowned, his mind racing. "But you can't walk around looking like this," he added. "We'll need to cover you up."
Leading David into the house, Leonard rummaged through one of the rooms until his eyes fell on the curtains. "Perfect." He tore them down and handed the fabric to David.
"Wrap yourself in this," Leonard instructed. "It's crude, but it'll at least hide so of your... more noticeable features."
David nodded and began draping the curtains over his scaled body, his sharp claws moving with surprising delicacy.
As Leonard watched, he tightened the musket strap across his shoulder and adjusted the pouches of ammunition. The coins jingled lightly in his pocket. "This will work for now," he thought. "But we need to stay alert. The town might offer supplies and safety, but it's also a risk."
With David now partially disguised, Leonard gestured toward the door. "Let's move. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it gets."
The two stepped out into the night, the faint glow of the moon lighting their path toward the town, and the uncertain challenges waiting for them there.
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