Burn the body and be done with it.

It doesn’t take much. Just a puff and the corpse is already ablaze. Magical dragon fire does its job, and in no time at all the bones are crumbling to dust. You see the princess nod at you in approval.

Bart and his father both yell at the same time. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

It’s too late for them to do anything though, and the specter doubles over, its body tearing itself apart as the most harrowing, blood curdling scream escapes its thoroughly unhinged jaw. Bart claps his hands over his ears, grimacing as if in pain. But just like that it’s over. The phantom dissolves, the body smoulders, and the clearing falls into deathly quiet. You hum to yourself in satisfaction.

“Well he wasn’t so tough.”

Bart, for his part, just looks stunned. Absolutely floored. For a time you actually begin to think he’s sad about his father’s second, final demise, but then he’s whooping and wrapping his arms around your considerably broad chest in an attempted display of affection. It’s close enough.

“Thank you thank you thank you,” he babbles, the words practically running over themselves. “You have no idea how much he made my life a living hell. Literally.” He lets go of you, stumbling backwards in his haste. He runs a shaking hand through his hair. “You can have her, the princess. I don’t need her anymore. I never even wanted her. It was all dad’s idea. I’m going to start packing, because I’m getting the hell out of this shitty forest. I’ve always hated it.”

He looks up at you and smiles, as if he can see his own bright future in the glint of your scales. “I owe you one, Dagon. You ever need anything, I’ll do it. Anything. Thank you.” With that he scurries away, doing another little fist pump before he makes it into the house. For your part you stand there awkwardly, not at all used to the praise and gratitude, let alone the hugging.

It felt… good. Weird, but good.

Now, to claim your prize.