"Minion! Minion!"
With a frown and dark circles under her eyes, she opened the door and faced a large group of thirsty dragons.
Even though she and Rollo lived together on a farm on the outskirts of the city, the entire area was crowded with dragons of all kinds, from newly awakened real dragons to talking flying dragons. Most of the new arrivals sleep in Mu
mu
i
of countryside, only in Vai
queue
The secret meeting only appeared when they began to sing their terrible music.
Surprisingly, the capital of the V&V Empire took the arrival of hundreds, if not thousands, of new dragons relatively well. Allison herself is used to the craziness, and she puts out enough meat to keep the hungry crowd temporarily satisfied.
"Minion," a blue wingless maggot that Allison recognized as a serpentine [Linnom], looked down haughtily upon the dryad. Although this guy is not as big as Winkle, he can swallow the priestess whole if he wants to. "Where are the dwarves?"
"What did you say?" repeated the dryad, struggling to stay awake. The din from their secret meeting, which could be heard all the way, ruined her night. When you heard the dragons debating whether the elves should be banned Food makes it difficult for you to fall asleep.
And that damn hoarding song! Even now, Vai
queue
and his compatriots are still humming the song with an enthusiasm that would make supercapitalists blush. This would have been bearable, but it turns out that the entire dragon clan is deaf!
"We know you have a dwarven crypt," a wyvern screeched, licking its fangs. "We can smell it."
"If you hide the dwarf in the basement, hand it over immediately." Linnom ordered arrogantly.
"Why do you need dwarves, I thought they had souls?" Allison replied dryly.
"I have no wings!" Lin Norm shouted. "I refuse to swim across the ocean without getting drunk first! It's so cold and the salt is staining my scales!"
"Yeah, you lowly minions can't understand our suffering and the burden of world domination!" complained a purple dragon as big as Julie.
"Every worthy dragon has a dwarven vault while I'm awake! Another li
o
m complained. “You lay dormant for six centuries—six centuries—and everyone lowered their cultural standards!”
"There are no dwarves in my basement," Allison lied. "We don't have dwarven crypts, and when you started waking up, all the Agarthans fled underground."
"Then why do your walls smell like them?" Blue Linnom hummed in the air, like a hound chasing a rabbit.
"I am the priestess of Cybele, the goddess of pleasure," the fairy explains, even though she hates using these stereotypes. "I organized orgies for minions in the basement. Dwarves included, and they left a lasting scent."
"Oh, are you a minion breeder?" Lin Norm immediately changed his tone. "You do stink..."
"Isn't there a dwarf cellar in this Minion City?" complained the talking pterodactyl. "Old monster maggot, we woke up in the wilderness!"
"If you need to get rid of unwanted dwarf babies, give us a call," Linnom said. "In times of food shortage, we'll eat whatever's available."
"Of course," Allison replied with a smirk, closing the door while the crawlers went to harass the other house. Once he was sure they were gone, the dryad walked up the stairs to the basement. Dozens of dwarves and ex-Jacks hid in the darkness, waiting for the storm to end.
"Are they gone?" Marbury asked worriedly, as his compatriots dug a tunnel and prepared to escape to their homes.
"Now," Allison reassured them. This is the fifth set today, but luckily none of the living dragons have a damn skill attribute.
"The Agarthans owe you a lot," Mablo said, placing a hand on his chest. "The egalitarian revolution will never forget your contribution, Comrade Allison."
"Thank you. Do you need anything? I'm afraid they're going to be here for a while."
"Are there any cats?" Jack asked frankly. "Jack is hungry!"
Holding a cup of coffee in his hand and whistling, Freeburn walked out of the dungeon base and embraced the morning sunshine. Since his base occupies a large portion of the mountain overlooking Holly Woods, the entrance is at the top of the mountain, giving him incredible views of the western ocean.
The Lich was sitting on a lounge chair, facing the sun, drinking a drink. Not that he can actually taste it as an undead; Fu
ibo
The main purpose of drinking coffee is to blacken the remaining teeth, the better to scare the kids. The vague feeling of warm liquid running down his guts was one of his little pleasures, other than annoying others.
However, his peaceful morning ritual was interrupted by background noise.
"Oh my shine!" So sparkly, my shine!"
Songs came from the east, a terrible sound coming straight from the depths of hell.
"What is this?" the lich said to himself, and the flying figure appeared on the horizon, returning to the source with the song.
A second later, a group of dragons flew over the mountain.
Hundreds of ravenous lizards emit a maddening cacophony of roars above the lich's abode. Dragons, wyverns, zimmies, a vast array of animals that cover the sky, sing this terrible tune.
For a moment, the Lich just observed the scene in an eerie silence, his hands shaking around his Misunderstood Genius coffee cup. Then, a pterosaur made a dove-like cry, and a disgusting white substance landed to the left of Fuliben's lounge chair.
Some excrement landed on the Lich's sleeve.
"Sa
at!" Fuliben turned his head and shouted towards the entrance of the underground classroom. "Sa
at!"
"Yes, the next day?" his teammates shouted from inside.
"Where is my lead armor?!"
"I threw it away!" Shujin replied.
"What? The Lich nearly jumped out of his recliner. "Why? Why did you do that?"
"Because it gives me nightmares!"
"Because you're a disgusting beep, Fu
i!" Another of his teammates, the Raptors, joined in the shouting match.
"There are dragons above us!" the Lich replied angrily, pointing to the sky.
"Then why don't you turn all their savings into lead?" the raptor screamed angrily. "I'm sure they'll fly away!"
Fuliben sighed and watched the dragon sing gold for the whole world.
"I hate this planet," the lich muttered.
Nothing here is worth the trouble.
Her whole life had brought her to this moment.
Charlene Enue looked out the window of the Nightblade headquarters in the Gadmanian city of Noble, shielding herself from the sun with her umbrella, observing the chaos with a cynical eye. Once upon a time, seeing a thousand dragons marching through a city on their way to the west coast would give her a stroke.
Today, she just sees it as a business opportunity.
Most dragons come from elsewhere, but some have slumbered beneath cities for centuries, knocking down houses when they wake up. Most people fled into the countryside, screaming for their lives; goats, cows and chickens were hunted down by the ravenous reptiles. Most of the city's homes were empty, left behind by panicked residents.
So today is a good day for criminal syndicates.
"Okay, then let's go with the plan," one of her lieutenants explained to the assembled Nightblade warriors, showing them a map of the city on the table in the center of the room. "First the banks and the aristocratic estates, then all the suburbs. If it shines, you hold it. If it doesn't shine, you still hold it, just in case."
“You can’t rob poor areas,” Charlene clarified. "We have paid too much but gained little, and we are not monsters. You can also raid the Adventurer's Guild to get [the badge]."
Winkle wants more and she'll give it to you.
"You must spread these orders to every Night Blade chapter on the continent." Charlene ordered. "Remember, this is not theft, this is the redistribution of wealth. We take money from the rich to fill our own empty pockets."
The criminals gathered together nodded immediately and prepared the tools for robbery. However, Charlene approaches the youngest assassin present, a little lizard with a positive attitude and an impressive murderous pedigree.
"It's not you, Botte," Charlene said. "I have a job for you. A personal one."
"Business?" The little assassin must have been dizzy. "Who is it? Where is it?"
"My ex, on the moon."
"Honey, I love exotic murder locations!"
"I can get you in and out," Charlene said. "Otherwise you're on your own and this can't be traced back to me."
"Okay, do you have any special execution method?" The assassin began to write notes. "Anything is possible, including sharks. Otherwise, I'll split it into four."
"I don't want him to die, I want his current relationship to be destroyed," Charlene responded. After what he had done, she wanted him to suffer more, not die.
"Oh." The assassin did not hide his disappointment. "Not even a few 'accidental' casualties?"
"He's going to see your Savou
Aunt euse," the vampire ignored his complaint, "but she's not worthy of C
oissa
t, deserves better. This is for her own good. "
Charlene can't let the revelation of the dragon get in the way of her little revenge.
Everyone prays to Sabra today.
Deep in the depths of his chosen pyramid of Ahenapepp, the Worm God found his precious social distance interrupted by the prayers of countless mortals across the globe. Asking to be saved from the apocalypse by dragons, dropped from the sky and smashed on their heads, or some other nonsense.
It seems that with the end of the world coming, Sabra has gained a newfound popularity.
"Enough," the God of Destruction complained, angrily smashing his SNES buttons with telekinesis. He was fighting a powerful boss and humans found nothing better to do than bother him.
This doesn't help them at all. He is a god of destruction, not a god of mercy.
While he supports the initiators of the conflict, Sabra is unconcerned with the outcome. No matter who wins, there will be massive collateral damage; even if the dragons are summoned to save humanity, they will leave a huge mess in their wake.
There are 5802059 prayers in your Godmail.
Working overtime again. “How many people are calling for the destruction of someone or something?”
60008.
good. Quality over quantity. "Filter all non-destructive, non-Earth-related prayers into my prayer spam folder. I'll check the rest later." Sabra prides himself on taking a personal interest in his admirers.
Your prayer spam folder has reached critical mass. Do you want these prayers erased or answered?
Sigh, really, being a god is a thankless job.
"Answer all the spam prayers and tell them to bother the Moon Man," Sabra rasped. "Only he can save them now."
Spam folder cleanup!
Finally, the voices quieted down, allowing the Insect God to enjoy his peace.
At least until his game screen went black.
Sabla
After waiting in front of the TV for a few seconds, he realized that his SNES had died. As always, entropy prevailed.
But now he can't play.
Sabra cannot rewind time and restore his items; nor can he create a new one. That would destroy entropy and go against everything he believed in. He could always summon Aknapope to repair it, but his prophets were doing important work in Pladen.
He could call the repairman, but...
…
It's too much work.
He will cause an earthquake somewhere.
Somewhere in Prydaan, a band of golems work tirelessly to build the largest castle in the world.
A fortress with dazzling spiers, it was built not of stone but of steel; its rune-reinforced curtain walls were thick enough to withstand dragon fire. The rooms within were designed for giants and the elite of the former race; its stables could house thousands of elven beasts and giant flying men; flying golems were embedded in the tower, adding finishing touches and donning the final gear. .
Crom C
uach. The ultimate product of the Mel family.
Its construction required so many resources that the countryside was looted of materials for miles. Entire forests were destroyed, and every drop of wood was used to supply the forges with the steel they needed. Smoke covered large areas of the island, obscuring the sky.
Such destruction delights Mel Odius, who oversees the construction in humanoid garb.
Crom Cruche is both a palace and a weapon. Its towers conceal weapons that can put lesser races to sleep and tear their souls from their bodies, ending this cycle of failure in a final act of destruction.
In the background, she could hear the song of the dragons and was even able to pass through the magical protection that made Prydan nearly impenetrable. She doesn't care. Soon, very soon, the music will end. What followed was a series of screams, the last wail of all life in Ortmund.
Then, finally...silence.
"Madam?" "Ark Man" Frank, one of the priests sent by Sabra to support her in the battle, knelt down behind her. She could smell his warm soul, ripe and waiting to be taken away. How difficult it was to appease her greed... "Wotan betrayed you."
"Why so?" asked the fairy, a little surprised, but not that surprised. Dragon Scourge never had the courage to let humans return to their original positions.
"He spared the knight Baine, but killed Mel Lin"
"I don't care about Merlin," Odius replied coldly, her eyes fixed on her castle. "What to do with my golem?"
"Their barrier worked, and although they held out for a while, they were no match for Maggot and his allies," the priest argued in a pessimistic tone.
"Anything that can stand up to K
ightsba
e will destroy anything less than an (Epic) adventurer," replied Odius, who had thousands of these golems. They were her greatest creations, deprived of the free will that had once Causing many former servants to rebel.
Humans on Earth have the right idea. A mindless drone won't question orders, and she can make as many as she needs.
"However, Mel Lin activated a [Rune of Homing] before his death," the [Time Warlock] added, perhaps believing that Odius would kill him if he didn't bring any good news.
"Good." After successfully testing Winkle's insect farm, improving the accuracy of her arrows has been her primary concern. "Add Wotan's territory to Crom Cruch's goals and order Aknapep and Ravana to prepare for an invasion of the coast."
"As you wish," Frank of the Ark replied, before teleporting away.
As the dragon's song fills the world, they need to hold on for a few more days until her castle stands. It responds to these voices with fire and fury.
In a few days, she will paint this blue planet red.
