Corrupted Reincarnation: The Eldritch Maid

[Kira POV] Year 5, Day 207

"Spectators, please clear the track!"

The broadcaster's voice boomed. Magic amplification making it impossible to ignore.

About five minutes until start. Kira settled herself into position on Bad Boy's back. Getting ready. Checking the harness. The reins. The seat.

[Soft start. Nothing really happens initially. Demo round first. Just fly slow. Keep formation. Don't mess up. Simple.]

Five minutes passed. Then the horns sounded—massive brass instruments, deep resonant tones that vibrated through the air. Start signal. Official beginning.

The announcement followed immediately. "Dragons, please rise! Keep formation and the order you were drawn!"

Bad Boy rose slowly together with thousands of other dragons and wyverns. Wings spreading. Bodies lifting. Massive coordinated ascent.

Demo round time. The race itself was three rounds total. But before that came one so-called demo round. Practice. Warm-up. Show for the spectators.

During demo, you just needed to keep the formation and position you'd been assigned. Don't break ranks. Don't speed up. Don't do anything except fly steady and look impressive.

Simple. Easy. Professional.

The dragons and wyverns approached the end of the arena slowly. Moving toward the Jaws—the narrow exit that funneled everyone out onto the actual race track.

The dragons were lined in rows. Wide formation. Organized.

But those rows didn't fit through the Jaws. Too wide. Too many side-by-side.

Even during this slow demo round with organizers on both sides guiding everyone through, calling out positions and adjustments, it was visible how everyone piled up there. Bottleneck. Congestion. Controlled chaos.

Bad Boy literally stopped mid-air, forced to hover while the compression sorted itself out. First lesson of dragon racing — patience matters more than speed.

[First major test. Can your dragon handle this without panicking? Without breaking formation? Without causing problems?]

Eventually the flow resumed. Dragons funneling through. Kira and Bad Boy got their turn. Passed through the Jaws without issue.

Out onto the track proper.

Kira did what most riders were doing—let the dragon fly himself, maintain steady pace, and wave to spectators near the racing track. Smile. Look confident. Look professional. Give them a show.

The track stretched ahead — the Green Circle of Central, as it was officially called. A wide green corridor through the city, used as public parks and recreation areas most of the year. Beautiful, functional, and four times annually transformed into this.

Soon they arrived at the first marker. Square. Massive structure—probably around five hundred meters high or so. Dragon race track had nine of these total, made by some famous artist as Kira had read once. All different shapes. Square, circle, triangle, pentagon, hexagon, and more. Geometric perfection at massive scale.

Flying speed during demo round was quite slow. More than an hour to complete the full circuit. During the actual race, average time was half that. Speed doubled. Intensity tripled.

Kira was surprised by how many people were everywhere next to the racing track. Probably millions of people total. Lining the entire route. Watching from buildings. Gathered in viewing areas. And massive holographic displays were visible every so often—showing the race from different angles, highlighting specific riders, providing commentary.

After flying through the ninth marker—a pentagon—the arena became visible again ahead.

Kira saw several riders get disqualified because they didn't follow their draw number and formation properly. Demo round was all about the show. Just fly slowly and keep your spot — that was the whole basic competence test.

But even then, some managed to mess it up. Broke formation. Tried to show off. Got removed immediately.

She found it funny. [Pre-race idiot filter. Catch them before they cause real damage. Smart system, honestly.]

Kira and Bad Boy entered the arena through the wide entrance—the incoming side was as wide as the arena itself. Easy entry. No compression. Only the outgoing Jaws was narrow. Deliberate design. Force everyone to prove control during exit, make entry easy.

The goblin duo worked the crowd into fever pitch.

"Are you ready for HAVOC?!" Hob's voice boomed.

"YES!" The spectators roared back. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. All screaming together.

"Are you ready for CHAOS?!"

"YES!"

"Are you ready for the DRAGON RACE?!"

"YES! YES! YES!"

The energy was overwhelming. Intoxicating. Pure anticipation concentrated into sound.

Drek's voice cut through. Professional. Building tension. "It's flying start time! As soon as every dragon is in the arena, we play the horns three times. Then it starts. All bets off. Everyone for themselves!"

Kira looked back. Searching for Raja in the massive formation.

Raja was there — positioned in her spot, focused and ready. Their eyes locked for a moment. Challenge accepted by both, no words needed.

The last dragon entered the arena. The massive Blue Cheese with Ken Steelhammer on top. The dwarf looked nervous. Uncertain. Out of his depth.

[Last one in. Demo round complete. Now comes the real test.]

The horn sounded. First time. Deep resonant tone.

Second time. The sound vibrating through Kira's entire body.

The last thing the presenters said before the third horn was simple. Final. Perfect.

"Good luck, riders. You'll need it."

Third horn.

START.

Massive explosion from the back. Kira—like probably nearly everyone—made a fast look in that direction.

Kira's brain processed it instantly. [That idiot in last spot just used dragon breath attack. Several riders and dragons literally in flames. Disaster — exactly what everyone predicted.]

But Kira had no time to watch the carnage back there.

Some gnome on a wyvern just threw a magical bomb in her direction. She used the mobile forcefield generator to push it away. Several other nearby riders did the same or just changed direction sharply. Nobody wanted to be near that thing.

The bomb exploded mid-air. Large explosion. Flashy. Destructive. But harming no one.

Schemes already in action. [Paid saboteur. Has to be. Brother's money at work.]

The gnome still approached. Clearly arming the next bomb. Preparing another attack.

Kira grabbed one of the spears Bad Boy carried. She'd tested extensively with different weapons in Dragon Sanctuary over the past few days. Spears worked best. She had some experience with them from her adventurer days, and the true dragon merge gave her insane strength—she could throw these with force and precision that would have been impossible before.

She threw. Direction: gnome.

The spear literally made a sonic boom as it flew. Cutting through air. Faster than sound.

Hit the gnome directly in the chest. He was too busy preparing his bomb to notice the incoming death.

Result: he flew from his wyvern together with the spear embedded in him. Wide arc. Still clutching the armed bomb in his hand.

Then exploded mid-air.

Kira was quite sure the spear hit had already killed him. But even if he somehow survived that—the bomb definitely finished it. Nothing left but scattered pieces.

There was even some stupid comment from the presenters. Hob's voice booming. "And we have a flying firework gnome! Beautiful display!"

[They're making jokes. Making entertainment out of death. Standard dragon race commentary. Professional cynicism.]

BOOM.

Next explosion. Bigger this time.

That idiot with his super dragon—Blue Cheese—was literally using breath attacks to clear his path. Burning everything in front of him. And it seemed to be working. Perhaps not an idiot after all. He was already in the middle of the pack. Moving fast. Forcing through with raw overwhelming power.

Kira watched toward the Jaws. First riders were already out of the arena. But more and more piled up at the bottleneck. Compression getting worse. Some fights already happening between riders trying to force themselves through.

And the breath-attack-spamming dwarf was approaching it fast. Definitely planning to use another blast to force himself through the congestion.

[Probably causing a massacre when he shoots into that packed crowd — dozens crushed and burned. Pure chaos.]

Kira decided not to risk it. Not far from the Jaws herself—good starting position gave her advantage. But too risky to pile up there now. Too much chaos building.

Plus she saw several other riders flying in her direction. More of those sent by her brother, probably.

Kira grabbed the next spear. Sent it toward a goatkin woman on top of some smaller dragon. She'd been sneaking closer for quite some time. Stalking. Waiting for opportunity.

The goatkin and her dragon tried to turn. Too late.

The spear landed direct hit to the dragon's body. The dragon screamed. Threw its rider off.

[One more down. How many did brother pay? How many more coming?]

Kira had no time to watch what happened next.

Bad Boy turned hard. Sharp banking maneuver.

A flying war axe passed maybe a meter from her head. Missing by nothing.

[Too close. Way too close.]

She really needed to thank Bad Boy properly later. His instincts had just saved her life — or at least her face. The dragon merge probably gave her enough durability to survive an axe to the head, but she had absolutely no interest in finding out.

She threw several throwing knives in the direction the axe came from. Against some human male on top of a wyvern. But he avoided them — clearly a skilled professional, and a real threat.

BOOM.

Another explosion. Probably the same breath attack again from Blue Cheese. But Kira didn't even have time to look.

There were five riders literally on top of her. Surrounding. Closing in. All of them clearly planning to take her out together.

The dragon in Kira snarled. [Brother's coordination. His money. His schemes. Right from the start. Never expected this kind of direct attack immediately.]

A net was thrown over her.

Kira just used brute force to pull it. Hard. True dragon strength was no joke.

The male bearkin who'd thrown it came together with it. He clearly didn't expect this kind of strong pull. Didn't release the net in time. Just held on and got yanked from his dragon.

He released too late. Already airborne. Already pulled.

Kira hit him once with her fist the moment he "arrived." Knocked him out cold. Sent him flying again.

[He should be fine, probably. There's an army of mages catching those who get thrown from dragons. Standard safety protocol.]

Bad Boy screamed.

There was a wyvern next to them. Some massive amazon-looking woman on it. She'd hit Bad Boy's wing with a halberd. Blood flowing from the wound in large quantities.

Then another scream. Arrow hit Bad Boy's side. Embedded deep.

Kira grabbed the next spear. Used it like a staff to hit the amazon woman. Swinging hard.

The amazon defended using her halberd. But Kira's iron spear shaft was stronger than her wooden halberd shaft. Breaking it. Shattering it. Then hitting the woman direct in the stomach.

Kira heard ribs breaking. Felt the impact through the shaft. Her spear also broke from the force. But the woman was sent flying from her ride. Eliminated.

Bad Boy screamed again.

Next arrow hit him. The elf archer wasn't giving up, and she didn't miss.

Kira sent a spear toward the elf's wyvern. Easier to hit large dragon than small rider. Basic targeting logic.

The elf tried to turn. Too late.

The spear hit the wyvern's tail. Literally through it. Impaled. Devastating wound.

The elf managed to barely keep control of the wounded ride. Pulling away. Out of the fight. Forced into emergency landing — eliminated.

But Bad Boy was also losing altitude. Two arrows embedded. Broken wing. Blood everywhere. The wyvern was barely flight-worthy.

[Not good. Not good at all. Need to get through the Jaws before we lose too much more altitude. Before brother sends more. Before this becomes unrecoverable.]

But there were maybe a thousand dragons and wyverns now piled up at the Jaws — pure chaos, compression and fighting everywhere you looked.

Kira also noticed the holographic display showing a flying dwarf head. Just the head. Separated from body.

It was Ken—the same last-position rider who'd been using breath attacks with his super dragon. Blue Cheese was flying nearly straight up. Emergency ascent.

[All dragons and wyverns are taught this—if you lose your rider, go straight up or down to get out of the race immediately. Clear the track. Don't cause more problems. Standard protocol.]

Kira felt a strange pity for him — even after his disaster killed others. [Poor bastard. Lasted maybe two minutes. Expensive dragon. Months of training. All gone because he didn't know what he was doing.]

Kira noticed a spear coming flying in her direction. Bad Boy tried to turn. Too wounded. Too slow.

Kira tried to redirect it with her forcefield. But the spear came too direct. Too fast.

[One thing to stop a slow-flying magical bomb versus a spear. Completely different physics. Completely different force.]

The forcefield only managed to slow its speed a bit. Then the spear hit Bad Boy's wing. The same wounded one. Got stuck there. Embedded.

Bad Boy screamed again.

They were perhaps only ten meters from the ground. Losing altitude fast. It was clear the wyvern wouldn't fly much longer.

Kira grabbed a spear. Sent it in the direction where the attack came from. A wyvern nearly directly above them. She sent a second one right after. Quick succession. No time for careful aiming.

The first missed—the wyvern turned.

The second hit. Right under its legs. Vulnerable spot. Devastating wound.

Some of the blood from there actually landed on Kira. Warm. Sticky. Gross.

Then Bad Boy crashed into the ground — too hurt to land properly, just hard impact and barely controlled movement until they stopped.

Kira pulled the spear from the wing the moment they stopped moving. It came out clean. Good sign. Then threw a healing potion on the wound. Emergency care. Better than nothing.

She looked at those two arrows embedded in Bad Boy's side. They looked nasty. Deep. Potentially dangerous to remove without proper tools.

She decided not to touch the arrows. [Staff is approaching fast. Including medics. Better let specialists handle this. I might make it worse trying to pull those out myself.]

Landing meant disqualification. She was out. Race lost. Brother won this round.

She looked around. Searching for her sister Raja.

Found her after some scanning. Alone. At safe distance from the havoc near the Jaws. Playing it super safe. Letting hired hands take care of Kira. Waiting until it was safe to exit. Then just flying the next three rounds without taking any risks.

[Smart. Professional. Cautious. Exactly what I should have done if I wasn't being hunted by a dozen paid assassins.]

Kira felt frustration rising. [Hiring counter-assassins would have been useless anyway. If anything, it would make me look as dirty as brother.]

Staff finally arrived. Some healer-looking male approaching quickly.

"Are you well, miss?"

Kira was confused initially. [Why was he asking that?]

Then noticed. She was actually bloody. Not her blood. But from that last wyvern she'd hit. Splattered across her uniform. Her face. Her hands.

"I'm okay. Please take care of my wyvern."

She noticed several people already next to Bad Boy — looking at the wounds, preparing to remove the arrows. They moved like a crew that had done this hundreds of times. Well — they probably had.

One of them approached. "Don't worry, miss. We'll take good care of your wyvern. A little rest and he'll be like new."

He looked at a paper in his hand. Checking records. "I see he's listed under Dwarven Union Dragon Sanctuary. Is it okay if we deliver him there after healing?"

"Yes. That would be nice. Thank you."

They had bought the maximum possible health insurance for Bad Boy. He'll get the best care money could buy — well spent now.

One of the staff gestured. "Miss, please follow. Let us guide you out of the arena."

Kira followed, watching back as they moved Bad Boy onto a massive flying platform built for exactly this — medical transport for race-day casualties.

Soon she arrived at the side of the race track. Designated area for eliminated riders. Some others were already there—those who were out of the race like her. All watching toward the Jaws as the last riders left the arena.

Kira didn't see her sister anymore. Raja had probably already exited. Already flying the track. Already winning by default.

Then two massive minotaurs approached.

"Lady Kira Razorclaw?"

"Yes?"

One of them—probably the leader—spoke formally. Professionally. "We're here to ensure you don't escape before the ceremony this evening."

He showed Kira a chain and neck ring attached to it. Heavy. Decorative. Intentionally humiliating.

"Please, let's stay civilized. Let's not make a scandal here."

The minotaur also handed Kira a document.

She read it. Official paper from race organizers. These guards were from some mercenary company hired by her brother to ensure both she and Raja wouldn't run away before the evening ceremony. He had the right to do this as family patriarch — all legal and binding.

The plan: put this chain around her neck, then follow her the rest of the day to make sure she didn't escape. If she resisted, things would get much more serious — courts would get involved, and compliance would be forced.

At least the metal chain didn't have any magical properties. It looked quite shabby, just a decorative piece — even with her old pre-dragon strength, she could probably get it off using muscles alone. Its only purpose was public humiliation, a symbol of custody.

Kira sighed. "Put it on."

Kira was livid. But she swallowed it, barely — the dragon in her was screaming. [No need to give brother any more ammunition. No need to make this worse. Just accept it. Endure it. Survive it.]

The minotaur fastened the chain around her neck. The weight settled. Heavy. Degrading. Visible to everyone.

Then she started walking toward the VIP area where Void was waiting. The two minotaurs following. Chain stretched between them and Kira. Everyone watching. Staring. Understanding immediately what this meant.

What made it worse—as soon as Kira agreed to the chain, both minotaurs put signs on themselves. Large text. Clear explanation.

"KEEPING GUARD ON HIGH ESCAPE RISK SUBJECT"

Plus additional text explaining their legal authority and what a risk and failure she was. Every word crafted to be legally acceptable but as damaging as possible.

Everyone reading it. Everyone understanding. Everyone knowing she was literally being kept on a leash like a criminal. Like a flight risk. Like someone who couldn't be trusted.

[This is worse than just losing. This is public humiliation. Spectacle. Entertainment. Brother planned this perfectly. Even in defeat, he gets his show.]

Kira instantly gave up going to the VIP arena like this. It would be even worse. Should she just go hide somewhere for the rest of the day? Somewhere nobody could see her and these two minotaurs? Somewhere private and quiet where she could just... wait for the ceremony without this public degradation?

Then she decided. [If brother wants to play dirty, I can do it too.]

She changed direction. Walking somewhere else. A plan forming. Somewhat evil. Somewhat petty. Somewhat perfect.

[Let's make this chain work for me instead of against me. Let's turn his humiliation into my weapon. Let's give everyone a show they'll never forget.]