Transcript Start<br /><br />"Ufufu&#8230;are you still angry with me? You only have yourself to blame if that's the case&#8230;now stop frowning and drink&#8230;I'll have you know I spent an exorbitant amount on those leaves so I expect you to finish every single drop&#8230;won't you do that for me at least?"<br /><br />Grinding molars together before sighing in defeat, a young man seated before an elegant lady moves to grab the ornate teacup off the table, giving the unsuspecting woman a hard look, unfazed by the seductive look on her face before turning his attention to the murky amber fluids sloshing in his face as he puts it up to his lips in disdain&#8230;<br /><br />&#8230;before his eyes widened in disbelief at the explosion of rich flavor and cinders of tangy goodness bouncing across his taste buds alongside something&#8230;profoundly familiar about it, finding himself downing the entire thing in one go instead of the sip he had intended to take. Amusing the lady as a gorgeous snicker slips free of her soft spoken lips, playing with a tile used in a game the two were currently engaged in over tea&#8230;a game she grows an inch closer to winning as a calculated flick sends the marble slab ricocheting of the corner of the board before landing neatly atop the large pile to her left.<br /><br />"Delicious isn't it? Though I fear we're fast approaching the end of the game if this keeps up&#8230;although&#8230;I wouldn't mind playing another if it means you get to enjoy more of my brew. You'd like that, wouldn't you, my adorable little Master?"<br /><br />Such a titillating suggestion vocalized by a sonorous tune dripping with sex appeal would've had most people in eager agreement. But the man knew better than to leap into the bosom of the woman in front of him, distrusting of her character especially after the events of the past few months or so and the fact that she clearly wasn't an ordinary lady; from her striking pink hair of unnatural quality flanked by curious horns to the draconic scales that adorned her perfect body in tandem with the flexible whip-like appendage looping around her hourglass figure to prod at the hem of the silken dress, lifting it in a not so subtle message to keep his eyes focused on her face as her wry grin breaks into a wide smile at the sight of the bashful man's face, looking away before he could get an eyeful of her immodest flower, realizing early that she wore nothing to hide it when his vision had failed to glimpse the black strap of her favorite underwear slung tight around the toned flesh of her hips. A sinful show by a gratuitous slit running down the right of the floral decor dress adorning her body, showing just as much as it hid from how tight it was alongside plentiful cutouts that left little to the imagination&#8230;hardly the image one would think of if they were told to envision a mighty dragon&#8230;<br /><br />As for how he even knew what sort of panties were her favorites among other things&#8230;that could only be explained if one were to rewind time to this exact same day and time a few months ago when the two had been bitter enemies embroiled in a conflict spanning decades, ready to face off in a climactic duel whose outcome would decide the fate of an entire race. And while the man had been clothed in ragged armor and soiled with sweat and blood with an equally battered blade in hand, the female Dragonkin's past self was a far more different affair than a simple cosmetic change.<br /><br />Faran&#8217;al Hamut, better known by his title of The Immolating Breath. Commander and physical host of the demons. Strongest of the Ancient Dragons and the last of them. The battle with the human's champion was to be his last after guaranteeing the subjugation of yet another race, but just before he could land the finishing blow to cement his victory, the pitiful human and his party had unleashed a trump card gleaned from ancient ruins somewhere off the border, a spell whose origin was so muddied in the past that the scholars who studied the magic could only offer a simple prediction; that it was unpredictable&#8230;uncontrollable&#8230;and that whatever it would do when unleashed would definitely be enough to bring down even the likes of Faran'al. A risky maneuver that almost seemed like a chest&#8230;but then again the cocky commander had tossed a legion their way in an effort to tire them out before they even got to him&#8230;so tit for tat.<br /><br />But a killing blow would not be delivered. Instead, the raw release of magical energies had swept Faran'al into a frenzy, binding the supreme dragon before encasing his very being in its effervescent glow, crushing the imposing being as his titanic frame compacts in on itself, giving the heroes hope in their wild card all while the Ancient Dragon raved and cursed for their trickery right up until a loud bang and a explosive blast of air silences him. That should've been the end of it. Without Faran'al to sustain the demons' existence, the war was decisively ended in favor of the humans.<br /><br />Except the demons hadn't vanished, simply going dormant where they stood like statues wherever they were at the time instead of vanishing. For the being that had been shaped from Faran'al's essence had retained everything their predecessor held sway over, including the symbiotic link with the hellish armada. Immediately putting the heroes on guard until they realized what was left of their great enemy, and how she could potentially be a powerful ally as they swapped gazes with the magenta hued eyes of the nubile dragonkin female standing where Faran'al had been forced to his knees&#8230;the very same one currently passing time with the leader of the heroes.<br /><br />With the majority of her powers sealed and her brutish form rendered inert and soft by the definitions of the ancient magic responsible, the current female incarnation of Faran'al was more level headed and cunning than her old, genocidal self. Once consumed by a rage to destroy the world because of it, she was finally free of the intoxicating voices that had coaxed her into committing atrocities ranging from the razing of entire civilizations from the face of the Earth, crimes against existence that involved the killing of the hero party's leader's parents.<br /><br />Immediately following the end of the war, relief efforts immediately went underway while the party would disband for the foreseeable future, each member too busy to stay together now that the immediate threat posed by the demons was warded off&#8230;leaving the warrior alone to deal with Faran'al, who had told him everything about her past without pause or hesitation, a willingness seeded no doubt from her purified bloodthirst to see him splattered&#8230;but also regret and sadness for everything he said she had done, something her Dragonkin pride and Ancient Dragon lineage prevented from portraying fully to the human despite the blasted landscape all around them, ruined by her hand&#8230;<br /><br />In her current state, Faran'al could easily be dispatched by the angry warrior who had all the right to do so. But his soft spot for women and high moral standards gleaned from his hidden nature as a mother's boy would shield her from that fate at risk of the world being plunged into war if her power or an external factor were to ever break the seal subduing it, freeing the demons in turn. He knew it&#8230;but at the same time he also couldn't bring himself to lop the head off of someone who technically, wasn't even aware of what they were doing up till now. Deciding to monitor her instead for any potential signs of resurgence, and seeing as how he and his party were the only ones to witness the Immolator's 'rebirth'...no one else knew the truth behind the beautiful Dragonkin who would return with him to the Empire's capital.<br /><br />That was a few months ago, and Faria, the new name she had christened herself with in this era of peace, had been very busy over that period of time. Making a name for herself through the slow but steady startup of her own agricultural guild in the hopes of repairing the world she had tainted, utilizing her knowledge to pass down to those who would flock to her for guidance. Teaching farmers new farming techniques, introducing magics that could revitalize burned land and razed fields, something only a few would successfully master and in turn, spread across the land. Earning Faria the title of a Saint in some regions of the Empire as life steadily crept back towards the Golden Age before her armies had swept the land. All while the former swordsman of the hero party continued to act as her bodyguard and willing executioner if need be&#8230;and while he still couldn't let go of his hatred, their relationship had grown from amicable to friendly. A slow start Faria didn't seem too bothered by. Instead, she seemed to be almost spurred on by that smidgen of growth despite his annoyance whenever she would get too physical or cozy with him. Toying with the warrior as she pleased like selling his tiny home for a bigger home out near the woods of the capital she had built for them both or like now for instance; treating him to an expensive batch of tea brewed from the first leaves of an old herb that had been thought extinct after her demons had razed the village that produced it&#8230;his home&#8230;<br /><br />And from his reaction to the taste, Faria could only smile warmly behind her calculating exterior as she pours him another cup while he makes his move after that rather daring move of hers. In Faria's long forgotten culture, being promiscuous was a lady's way of letting her desired mate know she wanted him. But seeing as how her guardian and savior was an unsuspecting human, she would rather he believe she was simply playing him on while she bidded time. One day, she would let her true feelings be known once their relationship nurtured a little more&#8230;or alternatively, in a figment of her imagination that had her hearts pounding, maybe he would be the one to tell her? Putting a genuine smile on Faria's face the man would just so happen to catch sight of as he lifts away from the table. Finding himself enraptured by her grace and beauty for a second too long, enough for the Dragonkin to realize her mistake as she turns her head swiftly to the side just like he had, a shivering hand held over her bosom with a furious blush over the cute bridge of her nose&#8230;<br /><br />No one would know the true fate of the Immolator Faran&#8217;al, only that the next millennium heralded lasting peace for all as a sudden result of advances made in the Empire&#8217;s agricultural front alongside the speedy repair of their losses, with the only scars that remained to remind the survivors of the war being the inert statues of the demons that would last to this very day&#8230;alongside a long line of Dragonkin hybrids said to be descended from the swordsman who had led the heroes to victory on the day of Faran&#8217;al&#8217;s defeat after he had settled down and found love in the very same Saint responsible for the Empire&#8217;s swift comeback after the war to end all wars had reached its end.<br /><br />Transcript End<br /><br /><span>The leader of a hero party has to deal with the unexpected aftermath of a climactic battle against an ancient dragon and his demon armies...</span><br /><br /><span>Link to my Discord group if you wanna hang with like minded peeps and view content I cant post on DA :&nbsp;</span><a class="external" href="https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://discord.gg/6kruMRX9jk">discord.gg/6kruMRX9jk</a><br /><br /><span>Link to my Patreon where I upload exclusive captions and stories if you wanna support me :&nbsp;</span><a class="external" href="https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://www.patreon.com/YakerTG">www.patreon.com/YakerTG</a><br /><br /><span>Image by NemoAce3 :&nbsp;<a class="external" href="https://www.deviantart.com/users/outgoing?https://twitter.com/nemo_ace3">twitter.com/nemo_ace3</a></span>