The Last Dragon Hunter - Chapter 3 THE END OF A RECORD

When Vance Valfern was a five-year-old kid, he learned the art of thievery. Raised and mentored by Bunya’s King of Thieves—Igur, the boy survived by putting his life on the line.

Hijacking the carts of usurious merchants, robbing the corrupt members of the king’s court at broad daylight, and stealing equipment from abusive knights were just among the few that Valfern pulled off. In these feats, there was no bloodshed nor imprisonment involved.

For twenty-five years, Vance Valfern’s name earned its infamy—the one-call friend of the poor and the untouchable enemy of the rich!

…

“Watch out!” a knight said. Red smoke hissed from the feet of his fellow who blindingly stepped on the ball dropped by Valfern.

In just a few seconds, a cloud of thick red smoke enveloped the first batch of knights crowding in the alley. It stung their eyes and bit on their flesh.

“Arghhh! Capture that fool!” the acting leader of the knights said. He fell on his knees, unable to endure the searing pain. “You may break his bones, but bring him alive!”

Those who were outside the smoke closed their eyes and held their breath as they charged through it. Unable to see the path, they bumped at each other. As a result, they ended up delaying their chase as the pungent gas eventually entered the holes in their bodies.

“Steady!” the one leading the archers from the rear said as the red smoke dispersed.

Meanwhile, Valfern reached the end of the alley. He nodded in approval at the locked back doors of Bunya Tavern. “I’ll trouble you no more, Anri,” he thought.

One by one, arrows neared him. There’s only one path ahead, and a twelve feet brick wall blocked it.

Valfern opened his sack and pulled out a grappling hook. “We’ve met again, my friend,” he said. After whirling it three times, he hurled it on the other side. With a clang, the rope tightened. He then dropped the last ball in his pocket before pulling himself up.

“I’ll see you on the other side, my friends!” Valfern said. The knights recovered and continued their chase while their arrows missed him by an inch or two.

By the time the knights reached the wall, Valfern was already on the other side, and he left them a little gift—a green ball. The lucky knight stepped on the jackpot, and a cloud of green smoke with the smell of rotten eggs rushed at their poor noses.

…

After a few twists and turns in narrow alleys, Valfern came out of the outskirts. The burbling of water was like music to his ears as the fresh air caressed his skin. Across the river was a dense forest, and far ahead was the Southern wall of Soden.

Valfern crossed through a narrow stone bridge and entered the woodland. Among the pine groves, a log cabin nestled itself in peace.

“I’m home,” Valfern said. The door creaked as it opened, and a long sword, an inch away from his neck, welcomed him. “Woah.”

A black-armored man with gray hair smiled at Valfern. “Come in. Slowly, lest I slip and cut your neck.”

On the bed, a man in his late seventies sat in silence. Standing beside him was a woman in a red coat.

“What took you so long?” the woman said. “Heal him, old man. He’s got a wound. After that, the two of you can go to prison together.”

Valfern’s blue eyes widened. He wanted to speak, but the cold tip of the blade kissed his neck. A little more movement and blood would flow.

“It’s a lucky day for us, Lady Leva. Who would have thought this healer here is Igur, the long-lost King of Thieves? Don’t you agree, Vance Valfern?”

Valfern shrugged. “What do you want?”

“We want the item back. Oh, and I almost forgot to remind you that the rest of Soden’s citizens could not wait to see your arse in the cell! So hurry, show your wound and let Igur heal you!” the gray-haired man said.

“I’ve got no wounds, and this old man here has got nothing to do with this. Let him go.”

“I might let him go if you can satisfy my questions. The trail of blood. Was it there by mistake?” Lady Leva said.

“Your men did that to an innocent girl,” Valfern said, his gaze still fixed on Igur.

“And what happened to that girl?”

“A healer took care of her.”

“Bunya has another healer aside from the King of Thieves?”

“Bunya has plenty of healers. I brought her to the nearest one.”

“Stark. Your report said the opposite,” Lady Leva said.

Stark coughed at the mention of his name. He cleared his throat. “And the item? You have it with you?”

“What item are you talking about?” Valfern said.

“Stop playing games! Do you think you can fool me?” Stark retracted his sword. He then pommeled Valfern by the stomach.

Valfern let out a series of coughs. “Even if you beat me to death, I swear that I know nothing.”

“And you expect me to believe a thief like you? You and Igur have destroyed so many lives! It’s time to pay for your crimes!” Stark said.

…

In a famous tavern near the capital, two men whispered at each other after a gulp or two of booze.

“Have you heard?” a bald man said.

“Is it what I think it is?” a scrawny man with a missing tooth said. “Did you sleep with the maiden serving us booze?”

The bald man’s eyelids tightened. “Fool! Lady Leva Seraphim and Lord Floyd Stark caught two notorious thieves today!”

“Woah! Those two are really something, huh?”

“Yeah, you heard it right. And you would not believe who these thieves are.”

“Who are they?”

“Igur Ramshackle and Vance Valfern.”

“No way! From what I heard, those two are heroes of Bunya. They rob the rich and feed the poor.”

“Fool! They’re still thieves no matter what.”

“Yeah, you have a point. What did those two pull off to warrant the attention of the King’s Reapers?”

“I heard that they stole a treasure that belonged to the King from the Misfeet Family.”

“Woah! The mansion of those crocodiles is like a fort with many traps! How did they survive that den?”

“Even I could not imagine that. But here’s the interesting thing. I heard that they’d been sentenced to death by the King. He will hold the proclamation in the public square before dusk.”

“You’re the fool then! It’s a quarter before dusk! Hurry!”