CHAPTER 62: THE DRAGON’S DOUGHNUT DILEMMA

Gorrim waved his hilt, slipping with a SPLAT into a flour pile. "By the crown’s grace!" he gasped, coughing up a cloud of dust. "This powder betrays me!"

I focused, the Heart and quill glowing brighter, their combined buzz like a choir of hyperactive bakers. I pointed the quill, and a massive eclair materialized, long as a lance and oozing cream. It smacked Vythrax’s chest with a SPLAT, cream dripping down his scales like a dessert avalanche. He froze, sniffing the pastry like a gourmet critic at a royal feast. "This... is new," he rumbled, his fiery glow dimming slightly, like he was reconsidering his life choices.

"Like it?" I shouted, dodging a claw swipe that cracked the floor with a BOOM. "There’s more where that came from!" The quill flared again, and a cinnamon roll the size of a boulder rolled out, tripping Vythrax with a THUD that shook the vault. He roared, but his eyes were locked on the pastries, his tail twitching like a cat chasing a laser pointer.

Lilith slashed a falling rock, sparks flying with a CRACKLE. "Cecil, you’re turning this into a bakery war! Finish it before we’re all buried in frosting!" Her scythe spun, cutting through debris like it was paper.

Vorren grunted, tossing another bone that hit Vythrax’s snout with a THUNK. "Your pastries are stupid, but they’re working. Keep it up, I guess." His grudging approval was as close to a compliment as I’d ever get.

Jex, now covered in powdered sugar like a walking snowball, stuffed his face with a doughnut. "This is the best fight ever!" he mumbled, then squealed as Vythrax’s tail flicked, sending coins flying with a JANGLE. He dove behind Yvra, whimpering.

Yvra’s second dagger flew, pinning a stray doughnut to Vythrax’s scales with a THWACK. "This is undignified," she muttered, but her lips twitched again, like she was secretly enjoying the chaos.

Mister Fog’s tea steamed as he floated closer, his misty form swirling. "The Heart and quill are one. Focus your intent, Cecil, or we’re all dessert." His cryptic tone made me want to throw a scone at him, but he was right.

I gripped the Heart tighter, the quill buzzing like it was ready to explode. I felt a surge, like my old Loafbearer powers had been dunked in sugar syrup and set on fire. I pointed the quill, and a table materialized, piled high with cakes—chocolate, vanilla, red velvet—pies bursting with cherries and apples, tarts dripping with custard, and a towering croissant that looked like it could star in a bakery epic. The table groaned under the weight, and Vythrax stared, his fiery glow fading as he sniffed a cherry pie, his massive jaws twitching like a kid in a candy shop.

"You... offer tribute?" he rumbled, grabbing the pie and munching with a CRUNCH that echoed like a collapsing castle. Crumbs rained down, and he looked almost... content? His tail stilled, and he scooped up a chocolate cake, devouring it with a NOM-NOM-NOM that shook the floor.

"Yeah!" I said, quill glowing like a supernova. "Join us, Vythrax, and I’ll bake you a castle of cookies! No more eating hopes—just pastries!" The Heart pulsed, and I saw a flash: Valthorne, baking for peace, uniting kingdoms with bread and goodwill. I could do that. I could be the Doughnut Lord.

Vythrax paused, chewing thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing. "Bold, worm. I accept... for now." He licked frosting off his snout, grabbing a custard tart with a SLURP. "But the Heart stays with me. Its power is mine to guard."

I gulped, clutching the orb tighter. "Deal, but we walk free? No roasting, no eating, just... chilling?" My voice cracked, but the quill’s buzz kept me steady.

He nodded, munching another pie, his scales glittering with stray sprinkles. "Prove your worth beyond pastries, and you may leave. Fail, and my hoard claims you." His tail flicked, and a hidden door opened with a RUMBLE, revealing a tunnel glowing with runes, leading out of the lair.

Quest Update: Peace Through Pastries Achieved!

Reward: Temporary truce, a mountain of baked goods, and a slightly less grumpy dragon.

I grinned, quill glowing like a victory torch. "Told you I’m a legend!" My crew groaned, but even Lilith’s smirk softened, like she might not murder me on sight.

Lilith spun her scythe, eyeing the tunnel. "You’re a ridiculous legend, but you’re alive. For now."

Vorren snorted, sheathing his knife. "Don’t get cocky. I’m still taking your coat if you screw this up."

Jex, covered in sugar like a walking pastry, clapped. "Can we keep the leftovers? Please?" He eyed a stray tart, practically drooling.

Yvra adjusted her dress, glaring at me. "Don’t celebrate yet, Cecil. This truce is as fragile as your competence." Her tone was sharp, but her eyes lingered on the Heart, curious.

Mister Fog sipped his tea, his misty form swirling like a storm cloud. "The quill’s power grows, but so do the stakes. The Heart is no trinket—be cautious." His warning sent a chill down my spine, but I ignored it.

Thrain, tangled in bones, raised his lance. "A sugary triumph for the crown!" He tripped, knocking over a coin pile with a CLATTER. "Dishonorable hoard!" he groaned, flailing.

Gorrim waved his hilt, slipping with a SPLAT into a flour pile. "By the crown’s grace!" he gasped, coughing up a cloud of dust. "This powder mocks me!"

Vythrax munched another cake, his eyes narrowing as he watched us. "Leave my lair, worms. But know this: the Heart’s power is not yours to keep." His voice was low, like a storm brewing, and his tail flicked toward the tunnel.

I clutched the Heart, quill buzzing like it was ready for round two. "We’re not done yet, lizard." I led the crew toward the tunnel, feeling the orb’s pulse, the quill’s buzz, and a spark of something new. I wasn’t just a failure anymore. I was the guy who’d faced a dragon with a doughnut and won—sort of. The tunnel loomed, glowing with runes, promising more trouble. But with the Heart and quill, I was ready. Probably.

The tunnel’s walls shimmered, runes pulsing like they were judging my life choices. The air grew colder, smelling of dust, sugar, and secrets. I took a step, boots crunching on crumbs, and felt the Heart’s warmth, like it was saying, You’ve got this, but don’t trip. The crew followed, grumbling but ready, their weapons glinting in the rune-light. Lilith’s scythe scraped the wall with a SKREEE, Vorren’s knife gleamed, Jex whimpered, Yvra’s dagger twitched, and Thrain and Gorrim stumbled behind, shouting about valor. Mister Fog floated, sipping his tea, his cryptic warnings echoing in my head.

The tunnel curved, and a faint RUMBLE shook the floor. I gripped the Heart, quill buzzing. "Okay, team, stay sharp. This place looks like it’s got more surprises than a baker’s bad day." My voice was steady, but my stomach churned like I’d eaten a cursed pie.

Lilith snorted. "If you trigger a trap, Cecil, I’m leaving you here."

Vorren grunted. "I’m taking the orb first."

Jex wailed. "I just want a snack!"

Yvra’s eyes narrowed. "Focus, Cecil, or I’ll make you regret it."

Mister Fog’s tea steamed. "The Heart’s power is waking. Be ready."

Thrain and Gorrim shouted, "For the crown!" and promptly tripped, crashing with a CLUNK and SPLAT. I sighed, leading the way, ready for whatever the tunnel threw at us. I was Cecil Dreggs, Doughnut Lord, and I was just getting started.