CHAPTER 60: BREAD, BUTTER, AND A VERY ANGRY LIZARD

New Quest Received: "Vythrax’s Last Stand"

Objective: Survive a ticked-off dragon who’s really mad about you stealing his shiny orb.

Reward: Not being barbecued, plus maybe some cool powers.

Failure: You’re a crispy critter with a side of regret.

The Vault of Crumbs shook like a blender on high, rocks falling with a CRASH as Vythrax, the Eater of Hopes, burst through the ceiling. His scales glinted like molten iron, his eyes blazed like twin suns, and his roar rattled my teeth. I stood in the center, clutching the Heart of Glimmerfen—a glowing, loaf-shaped orb that pulsed like it was judging me—and the Wyrm’s Quill, which buzzed like it was ready to start a riot. My coat was a disaster: torn, singed, glittering like a festival reject. But I felt something new—a spark, like my old Loafbearer powers were waking up, mixed with the quill’s weird energy. I was Cecil Dreggs, the guy who’d once tripped over a bagel and survived the guy who died from a horse crush... the guy who died from a very understandable horse crush that could totally happen to anyone If I could bake a dragon-sized loaf and stab a shadow, I could face Vythrax. Probably.

My crew rallied around me, weapons drawn, looking less like heroes and more like a circus act gone wrong. Lilith spun her scythe, her red eyes glinting with barely restrained murder. "Cecil, if you get us killed, I’m coming back from heaven and haunting you."

My head swings to her in surprise.. "you think you’ll get t heaven?"

Vorren cracked his knuckles, his knife gleaming like it was ready to carve a dragon steak. "I’m punching that lizard before I die."

Jex, apple-less and panicking, waved his empty hands. "I’ve got nothing! Why am I even here?" His voice cracked, echoing off the vault’s walls.

Yvra stood regal, her dagger poised like she was about to assassinate a king. "Cecil, if you ruin my diplomatic status, I’ll have you exiled to a swamp." Her tone was ice, but her eyes flicked to Vythrax, calculating.

Mister Fog floated above, sipping tea that smelled like burnt promises and vague doom. "The Heart amplifies the quill, Cecil. Use it wisely, or we’re all ash."

Sir Thrain, still dusted with flour, raised his lance. "For the crown’s honor!" He charged forward, tripped over a rune, and crashed into a bone pile with a CLATTER. "Dishonorable rubble!" he groaned, helmet wobbling.

Sir Gorrim, mustache tangled with ribbon, waved his broken hilt. "By valor’s grace!" He slipped on a coin, landing in ash with a WHUMP. "Cursed hoard!" he wheezed, flailing.

I raised the Heart, quill glowing like a budget lighthouse. "Vythrax! I’ve got your shiny orb, and I’m not giving it back! Let’s talk, not torch!" My voice cracked, but the quill buzzed, giving me a boost of bravado.

Vythrax’s laugh shook the vault, coins skittering with a JANGLE. "Talk? You, a worm who steals my treasure? Prepare to burn!" His jaws opened, a fiery glow building in his throat.

I gulped, Heart pulsing in my hand. "Okay, bad plan!" I dove as a fireball roared out, scorching the floor with a FWOOSH. The crew scattered, Lilith slicing at falling rocks with a SLASH, Vorren dodging with surprising grace, and Jex screaming like a banshee.

"Cecil!" Lilith yelled, scythe sparking. "Do something useful for once!"

"Working on it!" I shouted, rolling behind a stalagmite. The quill flared, and the Heart glowed brighter, sending a tingle through my chest. I felt it—Valthorne’s power, my power, something big. I raised the quill, and it shot a beam of light, hitting Vythrax’s snout with a ZAP. A loaf of bread materialized, golden and steaming, and smacked his face with a PLOP.

Vythrax blinked, shaking off the loaf. "Sourdough again?" he rumbled, almost offended. "You mock me!"

I grinned, quill buzzing. "It worked before!" Another beam shot out, and a baguette appeared, bouncing off his scales with a THUNK. The crew stared, dumbfounded.

Lilith groaned. "You’re fighting a dragon with bread?"

Vorren snorted. "Dumbest weapon ever."

Jex clapped. "It’s... kinda cool?"

Yvra’s dagger twitched. "It’s idiotic, but effective."

Mister Fog sipped his tea. "The Heart channels Valthorne’s will. Keep going, Cecil."

Thrain, climbing out of bones, raised his lance. "A loaf of valor!" He swung, hitting a stalactite with a CRACK, showering us with dust. Gorrim waved his hilt, slipping again with a SPLAT. "By the crown’s grace!"

Vythrax roared, another fireball blasting out with a FWOOSH. I ducked, the Heart pulsing faster. The quill buzzed, and I pointed it at the dragon. A barrage of rolls—ciabatta, brioche, rye—flew out, pelting Vythrax like a bakery artillery. THWAP-THWAP-THWAP! He swatted them away, but one hit his eye, and he roared, stumbling.

"Take that, lizard!" I shouted, dodging a claw swipe that cracked the floor with a BOOM. The quill was alive now, buzzing like a swarm of bees, and the Heart felt warm, like it was cheering me on.

Lilith slashed a falling rock, sparks flying with a CRACKLE. "Cecil, stop throwing snacks and fight!"

Vorren chucked a bone, hitting Vythrax’s snout with a THUNK. "Bread’s not enough!"

Jex, desperate, threw a coin. It bounced off with a PING. "I’m so useless!"

Yvra’s dagger flew, grazing Vythrax’s scales with a SCRAPE. "Cecil, end this, or I will."

Mister Fog’s tea steamed. "The Heart and quill are one. Focus your intent."

I nodded, gripping the Heart tighter. The quill flared, and I felt a surge, like my old Loafbearer powers were back, but weirder. I pointed the quill, and a giant doughnut materialized—glazed, sprinkled, the size of a wagon wheel. It flew, hitting Vythrax’s chest with a SPLAT, sticking to his scales like a sugary trap.

Vythrax froze, sniffing the doughnut. "What... is this?" His voice was less Eater of Hopes and more confused foodie.

I grinned, quill glowing. "A doughnut of doom! Surrender, or I’ll glaze you next!"

The crew stared, jaws dropped. Even Lilith looked impressed, which was scarier than the dragon.