“Little-little grass, grow taller than us~!” Chirped Jeanne, as she poured yet another vial of potion on my head.

Meanwhile, Erbrun and Placid were staring at her, sometimes whistling when the liquid ran where it shouldn’t. Only two people were not looking at me like I was a zoo animal, one too old and the other too gentlemanly.

“Are you even sure it will work?” I complained after yet another stream of chemicals ran down my back.

“Can’t say for sure until we try~.” Jeanne hummed, and splashed yet another one…

“Ooops~, we’ve ran out~.” She said with a slight giggle, and threw the vial to its previous habitat, the sack.

“Are we ready to move out…?” I said, while trying to at least shrug some drops of liquid off my clothes.

“Yes, we better hurry. Who knows if the potions loses its effectiveness when it dries.” Placid picked up his bow in quiver, and stopped when I hissed in righteous fury.

“So you say it can be all for nothing…?”

“He-he, don’t worry! It’s not for nothing! Seeing a chick like a wet chicken…! WOW?!” A metal candle stand flew right past his face, smashing into the wall behind him.

“Calm down, Amy! Calm down! If we kill him now, we’ll have to wait until Wolfgang saves him!” Jeanne tugged my sleeve and begged.

‘Crk’

I cracked my neck, to which the ranger’s faced slightly paled, and his mischievous expression became way less happy.

I silently rushed out, before the potions lose their effect even further.

The dragon happened to be living in a small valley, protected by small hills. But, as it always happens, the hills that were small on the map were quite large and the inclination was perfect for mountain hiking.

Even though I was a white collar in my previous life, I was not such a puddle I couldn’t go to mountains with my family. The only reason this hike was a nightmare was, of course, caused by my wet clothes.

The rough linen grinded my gentle xenomorph skin, and the refreshingly cold moist was quickly becoming unbearable, making me feel like I ran a marathon and was drenched in sweat. A very gross and torturing feeling that accompanied me for the entire duration of the journey.

Hours later, when my clothes finally became bearably wet, we finished climbing past the hilltops, and slowly descended into the dragon’s valley. From there on all communications were done with gestures. Thanks to that I was basically doing everything Jeanne was doing, following her like a chick its mother hen.

The mother hen herself was quite pleased with that, constantly smiling and barely holding back some sort of a triumphant speech she constantly nodded to herself.

Meanwhile, I was constantly keeping in mind that we are about to fight an infant dragon. Not a dragon but an infant. I constantly imagined a tiny cub-sized fat lizard with horns. An absolutely adorable and laughingly weak lizard.

I was confident in my abilities. I can turn this entire party into a meat rain within a few moments. I can even turn some monsters into an anatomical theatre by gutting them in a few slashes (even if I didn’t try it yet). But what place do I actually have in the pyramid? I may be but a tiny bug in comparison to some dragon. A frog that knows nothing but boundaries of its pond and thinks the sky is as much as what can be seen through tree tops.

I cautiously glanced to my side, and saw a faint split-second glimpse of a runner that accompanied me. A vanguard of a small but deadly ‘delegation’ of the royal myself.

And when I glanced ahead, I saw a sleeping lizard in its nest. A small, tiny sleeping lizard, that made a nest in a torn apart carriage, and that was not less in size than a strong horse.

I glanced at the side where the rest of the party were. All of us were crouching, and all had the same expression: ‘That’s not what we were expecting, and I bet they told it was smaller’.

‘Wish me luck…’ I whispered, and crawled forth, absolutely not happy that I have this doubtful honor of being the dragon’s next meal…