Page 102 of King Foretold
Minju. Draco. All those people.
“Shit.” I sprint toward Akrotiri but don’t get very far because I’m met by a swarm of humans, pulsing with dark, stolen magic.Jaenanpa assholes.“Get out of my way. I don’t have time to play with you.”
Unfortunately, they don’t listen, and they come at me with angry roars of varying pitches. I shrug and draw my sword of light. Then I pause and blink down at it. It looks and feels exactly like my hwando. Don’t get me wrong. I love my hwando. But I kind of expected the sword of light to beextra. I push aside the pinch of disappointment.
Don’t knock it till you try it.
Luckily, a horde of maniacal shamans are storming me. I run straight into the mob, excited to try out my fancy new toy. I swing the sword of light over my head, wearing a razor-sharp smile, and slash my way through the first wave of bad guys.
The bastards kidnapped a thousand humans for what they believed would be a blood sacrifice. They don’t deserve my mercy. Yet, even as I slice, jab, and pierce with lightning-fast attacks, I make sure none of their wounds are fatal. Maybe I’m not so ferocious after all.
Maybe I am good after all.
I search for signs of Daeseong, even as I work my way through the throng of corrupted mudangs. Is he in the buried city? Did he get to Draco and Minju?
A ball of fire barely misses my head by an inch.
I smell my burned hair before I see the ashes rain past my shoulder. I run one hand through my hair to find that I’ve been given a bob cut on half of my head. With my mouth gaping in shocked outrage, I glance in the direction the fireball came from. A scrawny, bespectacledblond in a loose T-shirt and khaki pants stands with another ball of fire in his hand.
“You lot can go make sure the captives don’t escape,” he barks to the other mudangs, inching toward me with a sly smile. “I can take care of this one.”
Blondie must rank higher than the others, but not that much higher, because they grumble and glare at him even as they follow his orders. They probably suspect he wants to steal my magic for himself. And maybe he does.
“Did you torture a being of the Shingae to steal that elemental power, mudang?” I growl, my lip peeling back from my teeth.
“Oh, you mean this power?” He ignites a matching fireball in his other hand. “Tortureis putting it nicely, but I deserve this power more than that kid ever did. Iearnedthis power.”
Nausea floods my stomach at his utter lack of remorse, at his absolute entitlement. When screams of terror erupt behind the sadistic mudang, I smile grimly. “The only thing you earned is the comeuppance you’re about to receive.”
With trepidation in every line of his body, the mudang turns around just in time to witness Draco roar into the night and land on top of a dozen Jaenanpa minions. Blondie stumbles toward me, but I push him back to the furious blue dragon and the terrified mudangs scattering in every direction.
“J ... Jaenanpa.” His voice cracks like a pubescent boy as he corrals every mudang within his reach. “Stand y ... your ground. Do n ... not be afraid.”
I shake my head at the pathetic coward and sprint toward my friends. My legs wobble with relief that Daeseong hasn’t gotten them.
“Hurry, everyone.” Minju slides down Draco’s back and urges the groggy humans with her to follow her example. “You have to go. Run toward that tree at the top of the hill. Stay down and keep each other safe.”
I reach Minju’s side. “How did you wake them up?”
“I brought some seungmacho, the antidote,” she says, helping the remaining people down. “I figured the Jaenanpa would fall back on their favorite poison.”
“You’re a genius.” I watch the humans—about a dozen of them—run for the hills. Then I turn a wary eye to the Jaenanpa surrounding Draco. “Minju, how many more do you have down there?”
“Too many.” She rubs a tired hand across her forehead, leaving behind a streak of dirt.
“Leave the Jaenanpa to me,” the dragon rumbles inside my head with barely leashed fury. “They poisoned my dad and bound him with dark magic before they ripped his power ... hislife... out of him.”
“I’m so sorry, kid.” My voice breaks. “What the Jaenanpa did to your dad was wrong and despicable. But taking a human life—no matter how much they deserve it—will leave a mark on you. It’ll alter you forever, and not for the better.”
“I ... I can’t stand by and let them hurt innocent people,” they argue, but the edge of violence has faded from their voice.
“You can stop the Jaenanpa and protect the innocentwithoutlosing yourself.” I pat their front leg—the only part of them I can reach. “I like you just the way you are. Okay, kid?”
“Bruh.” Tears well in their beautiful cerulean eyes.
I want to reach up and catch the giant teardrop, but I shouldn’t push my luck. The teenager has probably reached their daily capacity for non-angsty emotion.
“Well?” I smirk. “What are you standing around for?”
