Chapter 24 - 23: Interception
Yevgeny naturally had plenty of reasons to be filled with rage.
Her mount, the Pegasus—or rather, the mounts of most Elf officers—was uniformly issued by the High Elf military based on position after a qualification review. Although her Pegasus wasn’t of the highest quality, not even medium grade, she still treasured it as a rare gem. She took extra care of it daily, making her the envy of her sisters.
The accidental death of a military Pegasus outside an official battlefield was also subject to investigation and accountability by the military. Even if she could avoid whipping and imprisonment by bribing superiors and pulling strings, a semi-public exoneration hearing and a fine large enough to deplete her salary for several years were inevitable. She would also suffer a reprimand from her superiors, leaving an indelible stain on her record. She could even imagine the sneering and mockery she would face from her colleagues and those bitches behind her back.
Most importantly, this Pegasus had been with her for sixteen years. Through many years of fighting side-by-side and long companionship, they had established a deep bond; she regarded Aima as family.
And now, to compensate for the fatal flaw in her plan, Yevgeny saw the Red Dragon about to break free from its paralysis and escape. She had no choice but to resolutely drive her mount into a hard collision with it. Even at the last moment, Aima ultimately couldn’t overcome its own cowardice and natural fear of the Dragon and wanted to shrink back. At that moment, Yevgeny’s heart twisted with pain, and she too wished to avoid such a cruel farewell.
But for the sake of a better tomorrow and the future of all under her command, Yevgeny, with tears in her eyes, drew her dagger and plunged it into Aima’s hindquarters, bestowing upon it the courage for its most glorious moment.
"Aima, you must believe that your sacrifice is worthwhile. It will be sung and remembered by all Elves in the future!"
"We will now avenge you. Rest in peace, Aima!"
Yevgeny, with trembling hands, tried to close the Pegasus’s eyes, which were wide with rage. But whether it was dying too resentfully or because it thought it could still be saved, the Pegasus’s eyes remained stubbornly open. Perhaps it dreamed of returning to Dewensen to drag the treacherous bitch who stabbed its butt and crashed it into the Dragon before a military court. Its eyes glared like two BMW xenon headlights.