Chapter 66: Preferential treatment
Mordred collapsed slowly to his knees on the hot sand of the arena, his legs unable to bear his own weight any longer. A wave of brutal, merciless exhaustion washed over him, the result of merciless combat, severe wounds and considerable blood loss. His arms trembled with fatigue, and his katana slowly slipped from his hand, falling silently into the sand beside him.
His breath was short and ragged, every breath seeming to cost him a colossal effort. Suddenly, he felt strong but surprisingly delicate hands gently lift him by the arms. Raising his head slightly, he saw two dragon guards dressed in impressive dark armor supporting him with a precaution he’d never imagined possible coming from them.
Confused by their unusual delicacy, Mordred tried to ask a question, but his voice was an indistinct whisper, swallowed by his state of extreme exhaustion. The guards didn’t respond, simply exchanging silent glances as they carried him out of the arena to the frenzied applause and shouts of the crowd.
When they arrived in a secluded room, very different from the cold, squalid cells to which he was accustomed, Mordred observed with growing surprise a luxurious décor, with walls lit by dim torches and finely crafted furniture. In the center of the room, a strange, transparent, cylindrical cabin waited like an open glass sarcophagus, surrounded by complex control consoles.
Without giving him time to protest or ask a question, the dragon guards carefully placed him in this cabin. Once settled, a mask was quickly applied over his mouth and nose. Mordred instinctively tried to resist, but he no longer had enough strength to put up a serious fight. Panic briefly rose within him as a strange, luminescent green liquid began to rapidly fill the cabin, slowly covering his wounded body.
He tried in vain to scream, to free himself from this aquatic prison, but the liquid was already penetrating deep into his wounds, provoking an unexpected sensation of relief and soothing. His initial panic was quickly replaced by a warm, almost comforting feeling that spread throughout his battered body, instantly calming his pain.
His muscles gradually relaxed, and his breath became regular and deep. At last, Mordred dared to slowly open his eyes in the greenish liquid, astonished to discover that he could see perfectly without any discomfort. Through the transparent walls of the cabin, an elegant, imposing figure appeared in his field of vision, standing perfectly upright, hands clasped behind his back.
The figure moved slowly towards the cabin, revealing a dragon in humanoid form, dressed in the extremely well-groomed attire typical of a steward from a high family. His fine features and cold gaze watched Mordred with a slightly disdainful but curious expression.
The dragon spoke in a low but perfectly clear voice, his words echoing distinctly even through the liquid and the walls of the cabin:
- You’re very lucky the princess chose to protect you, slave. Although, frankly, I don’t know what she sees in you.
He paused briefly, gauging Mordred with an analytical gaze before continuing in a slightly contemptuous tone: