Without wasting any time, the Kings struck out at Warrior with a mixture of physical and magical attacks, all aimed to probe at Warrior’s responses. Though slightly hobbled by his injured ankle, he adapted well and intercepted their attacks with his shield, the damned so imprisoned upon it wailing in protest at such an affront and in general for their perpetual torment. More than just a large brute, Warrior left behind afterimages at the completion of his movements, the purpose thereof being unknown but certainly dangerous. Translucent and ominous, the Kings gave them a wide berth as they maintained a barrage of elemental attacks.
Meanwhile, Bylo’selhi channeled forth a glittering beam of energy, one that took a moment to coalesce in his mouth as if it were drawing in and bending the light around him. With near-instantaneous speed, it shot forth at Caster, striking true if not for the shadows of corrupt magic that surrounded his form, the vapors of which lunged forth from his thurible to protect him. As Bylo’selhi maintained the beam, it did manage to punch through and into Caster’s chest, leaving a hole in it where the edges twinkled with a silver sheen. With a flick of the neck, the beam shot downward, practically bisecting Caster, causing the giant to fall over dead.
Predictably, new arms grew out of the remaining trio to point at Caster, and within a few moments of his corpse rumbling and writhing, a new Caster shot forth with his scepter leveled at Bylo’Selhi. Bylo’Selhi, with the energy of his attack spent, focused on manifesting a shield of magic to protect him from whatever would follow as he also crouched in preparation to leap out of the way. Half a heartbeat later, a slow but inevitable miasma sprung forth from the scepter, the darkness of it wafting slowly but inevitably forward. Corpses of the fallen in its wake quickly rotted away to bone and dust as it advanced.
Bylo’Selhi flapped his wings at the miasma, and though I could feel such a movement was imbued with a magical effect, it did little to dissuade or dissipate the advancing miasma. Perturbed, he leapt backwards to safety, but that only bought him a little more time as the miasma continued its unerring journey towards him.
Simultaneously, Dancer twirled around, its ribbons that it held in its hand lashing at me. In retaliation, I used Nature magic to have vines spring forth from the floor of my fortress to entangle the ribbons, which worked remarkably well. In a most troubling manner, I could feel my control over the vines and of Nature magic itself slipping away, as though the ribbons were sucking it out of me. I found myself really hoping that it would not be a permanent impairment, and quickly determined that a war of attrition would leave me with no more elements of magic at my disposal.
Adding insult to injury, the ribbons snapped off near where the vines ended, and as if reeling out more fishing line, the ribbons regrew from the handle, each one no worse for wear. I had not been idle during my defense, for my traps were sliding into position beneath Dancer’s feet. Killing these enemies was not yielding satisfactory results, and so I programmed the traps with Ice magic in hopes of encasing Dancer to restrict further movement.
It was while my traps were springing that the enemy unleashed one of their own. As Warrior found himself harried, he switched position with one of his afterimages and promptly struck at the Kings with surprising speed. Ruby found a spearhead with a new business proposal just for her, and though she moved quickly to avoid the strike, it still grazed her. The spearhead was bigger than her body, and even a glancing blow rent a nasty slash down her side. While her draconic regeneration seemed to work uninhibited, she staggered away from the blow and continued to stumble as if she were constantly being pushed.
Before the Kings could launch a counterattack, Warrior switched positions with another of the afterimages, one that clearly assumed a defensive position. Seemingly with mindless aggression, Warrior slammed the spear down near Ruby, and while Ruby dodged easily enough, both for the spear itself and the shards of obsidicrete that went flying like shrapnel from the impact, she found herself stumbling and rolling. She had been bracing to resist the push imparted by her wound, but now found herself being sucked in near where the blow fell, which was in the opposite direction of the pushing effect. In short, her efforts to brace had thrown herself to the epicenter of Warrior’s last strike, and as he readied another one into the same location, Ruby found herself helpless to block or move out of the way in time.
The spear came down, and even though I was engaged with my own battle, I employed my magic to help Ruby. Using my Spatial Manipulation, I twisted and bent the space around her body in the path of the spear, warping reality so that a straight line towards her body now veered off to her side in the same way she was being pulled. The spear appeared distorted and stretched by the effect, and the blow struck true on the floor near her, pulling her once more in the same direction as before. However, she was already in the process of recovering from her momentum carrying herself in the direction, and so she recovered to a standing if still sliding position.
The ichor of the spear did not have any apparent effects on her health, other than perhaps reducing her regeneration by some degree. Perhaps it was the source of the pulling and pushing upon her form. Regardless, she managed to hop and flap her way over a pool of it where the second slam landed, but she and her fellow Kings would need to find a solution themselves as Dancer was winding up another attack for me.
My Ice trap did freeze up Dancer’s legs, but the arms with the ribbons were still very much mobile. This time, I summoned forth two geysers of water to intercept as Dancer whipped the ribbons at me. I encountered similar results as I could feel my mastery of Water being encumbered from the strikes that landed upon my Ability. Not one to waste my effort, I used Fire magic to turn the remaining water into steam and pushed it towards Dancer’s torso. The superheated steam did make Dancer writhe in pain, so at least I confirmed that they were capable of feeling. However, Dancer did not die from the attack, which, considering they seem to resurrect for free, was probably for the best.
“Skull, kill Archer again when another giant dies and pull the corpse into the Shadow Path as you do so. I need to know if moving them to another plane interrupts their resurrection.”
“Understood, Master. I will comply.”
For her part, Skull swarmed up and down Archer like an angry bee, her blade stinging out trying its best to sever important ligaments and tendons without causing death, which was a tricky prospect considering the giants did not have a completely humanoid anatomy. Archer floundered and swatted at Skull feebly, his motions just not quick enough to keep up with an Avatar.
Meanwhile, Bylo’Selhi had coaxed the miasma over towards Warrior, which was a bold and daring strategy with no small amount of risk. He had not done anything obviously magical during that time, even though I could feel his mana was burning away as he prepared something. Warrior, now surrounded, rapidly switched through afterimages, striking at the various members of The Equivalent Scales, leaving new afterimages in the process, but not as fast as they were consumed. The Kings pressed their attack, launching everything they had to pin down Warrior and occupy his attention as Bylo’Selhi drew closer and closer. With a final and alarmingly fast leap that seemed to slow down time, he appeared to slide on a path through the air, his body zipping around and past Warrior without conventional flight.
I realized in the moment that Bylo’Selhi had activated some sort of Haste Ability, which activated my passive copy of it, [Fools Rush In]. Taking advantage of the opportunity and catching a glance at a surprised and seemingly irritated Bylo’Selhi, I prepared several nasty attacks of my own. Through experimentation, I found that [Fools Rush In] founds its cost in mana paid for by whoever used a Haste Ability, and so Bylo’Selhi probably found that to be frustrating tax on his performance.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
In slow motion, I witness a gigantic silver coin materialize above Caster, one that could certainly crush our giant foe if it landed upon its body. My mind processed my options, and with a desire to ensure success as my motivation, I used Earth magic to shape the obsidicrete floor, drawing down the feet of all four giants into a quagmire before solidifying the floor once again. They each sank slowly as if into molasses, such was the relative effect of time as imparted by Haste, but in reality it happened within a second as the giants sank up to their knees.
The silver coin, as bid by gravity, crashed down on top of Caster with impunity and cold indifference, the coin crushing him to the ground and simultaneously melting. I watched as the giant became encased in molten silver that hardened around him, the process slow at first but rapidly gaining speed. Well, not quite, for Haste was wearing off as Bylo’Selhi cancelled the Ability.
The shadowy miasma, now without Caster to direct it, slammed into Warrior, whose body quickly began to disintegrate instead of decay. Sapphire and Jade swooped in to snatch up the spear and shield of the crumbling Warrior, which appeared comical seeing as how the weapons were far more massive than the Kings. Somehow they managed, and the weapons became encased in a gigantic gem of each dragon’s namesake.
In the same moment, Skull dealt a final blow to Archer, and as Archer’s head fell from his body, so too did she rip the corpse of Archer into her shadow as she crossed over onto the Shadow Path, pulling Archer with her.
That just left Dancer, and with a barrage of spells so quickened by Haste, Dancer was quickly overwhelmed. Before Dancer’s corpse could hit the ground, I manifested my [Advanced Thermal Bottle], sucking in the corpse to break its body down into its base material elements with overwhelming thermal energy. Its ribbon weapons, foul and corrupt as they were, I sucked into a quickly created black box of a pocket dimension that had nothing else in it, just in case they could somehow corrupt my pocket dimensions or the contents thereof.
Within seconds, none of our enemies remained on the field in any sort of intact form. Caster was encased in silver, possibly even transmuted into silver entirely. Archer was now in the Shadow Path, and thus in another plane of existence. Dancer’s atoms were now all in a state of plasma and slowly being transmogrified into other material elements. Warrior simply ceased to be, the Miasma unmaking his body when it touched. It seemed like a clear and simultaneous victory to me.
From Skull, I received the impression that opportunists and scavengers of the Shadow Path had greedily collapsed upon the corpse of Archer, and gods only knows what effect such otherworldly entities of such an alien realm have on the material and spiritual remains of an equally alien being, but all bets are placed on it being unpleasant and difficult to recover from.
Scanning the battlefield, I witnessed that my allies of the other flights were having their own battles with mixed but largely positive results. Many dragons were injured, one even looked a bit dead, but we were holding on all fronts.
Bylo’Selhi, his Kings, Skull, and myself regrouped, trading unconfident laughs at our victory as we tended our wounds and especially focused on ensuring Ruby was not somehow corrupted. We maintained vigilance for any further enemies in our quadrant as we engaged in some small talk and banter.
“I think you need to lose some metaphysical weight, friend,” Bylo’selhi said in greeting to me. “Pulling you along for the ride with Haste would beggar me sooner than not. What do they feed you over there in your flight?”
“Oh, just whatever my personal [Line Chef] whips up for me. I’m a growing boy after all, I need nutrients.”
Bylo’Selhi barked out a laugh as he glanced me over with a critical eye. “You are far more than you seem, for though you are younger than me, I have no doubt that you are stronger than me, at least in terms of how much mana you have at your disposal. I may have had time to gather more Traits for my flight and Experience Points for my Skills, but you sure can pack a wallop.”
I could tell that his comments were trying to lead me to spill my secrets, but I didn’t really know what secrets to spill. It isn’t like we Emperors sit around and talk about how powerful we are and how we go about getting stronger. Each of us has our own path, so our own experience seems to be completely normal as we have nothing to compare our growth to other than in very abstract terms with other entities.
“I don’t know what to say; I am what I am,” I replied with a raising and lowering of the middle of my neck, the draconic equivalent of a shrug. “Unless you have a handbook lying around, I don’t really know what makes me different from you.”
While I didn’t know it at the time, Bylo’Selhi was quietly smashing [Appraisal] as many times as he could on me to brute force his way into revealing who and what I was. [Appraisal] in this sense was his Lesser Focus for his flight, and it made similar Abilities outside of said Focus look like parlor tricks. I myself had some Abilities themed as such at that time in my life, but I could only get general impressions of things, like how someone could be a Silver [Warrior]. In hindsight, I can only imagine how detailed of a dossier such a Focus could provide him, but it had to be worth its proverbial weight in gold for such a calculating merchant.
“Fuck!” I heard from one of the Kings as I felt a twitch in the flow of magic around us.
Our guard raised, we all pivoted toward the portal. With utmost bullshittery, to use the technical term, four miniature and flat portals opened in the air, out of which four arms extended to point to a singular location. An amalgamation of flesh twisted into being, with limbs and flesh appearing from thin air to form a new body, one closer in scale to Bylo’Selhi in size. Many legs supported a central mass of eight arms, each one wielding the weapons of our previous opponents. Four heads were found at the top of the body, above which hovered four partly melted and smashed crowns of different make that loosely resembled the shape of a much larger crown. It spun slowly as it rhythmically hovered up and down above the new body’s heads. The portals and their respective extended arm seemed to remain anchored in a relative position on the back of the new adversary.
“I sure hope this is their final form, or we may be in trouble,” I heard Bylo’selhi bemoan as he readied himself for another attack.
However, before hostility could be traded either way, the light around us dimmed, and a spotlight appeared off to our left. I spared a glance to see what was happening, and I beheld the sight of a fabulously dressed kobold approaching, one with rather draconic features and scales of green and purple. She strutted forward with confidence as if on a catwalk, and distant kobolds in the darkness behind her lurched forward as they sang and played instruments to herald her arrival.
“Fear not, as I, Dovima, will save you in style.”
Heedless of the danger, the little kobold continued to strut forward while her spotlight followed. As if by secret agreement, our adversary, my fellow dragons, and I found ourselves fascinated by her entrance. She sashayed forward until she was positioned in front of us, and undaunted, addressed our foe.
“You, shall go, no further, you, hideous, abomination,” she slowly spoke as she transitioned from one flattering pose to another as bright white lights flickered on and off in her direction from all around her. With each flash of light, her outfit changed from one to another, each one exceptionally fabulous and often impractical, but otherwise certainly eye-catching and worthy of conversation.
As if insulted by such a proclamation, the new enemy, which I will just dub Tyrant for the sake of narrative, lashed out with all its weapons. In the same instant, Dovima’s outfit changed to an effeminate zoot suit, one with stripes going up and down her body in bright colors, no two lines of which were truly parallel. To my surprise, the attacks all missed, landing too close or too far from her location, despite the spotlight upon her, and I witnessed a pleased and predatory smile alight on her face as kobolds in the background began a more upbeat song.
With dancing steps, her hands pushed and pulled upon her body, stretching herself impossibly far as she avoided attacks as she advanced. Every now and then, attacks that seemed like they would strike true failed to impact her, while nearby another kobold could cough up a fountain of blood and keel over. Mesmerized by her attack, if one can call it that, we watched in fascination as she continued unabated towards Tyrant. At her pace, her supply of spare kobolds would be more than ample, and curious to see how this would unfold, I continued to watch as I prepared more and more traps as a contingency. How one kobold could win where two Emperors and some change had failed was anyone’s guess, but we were each invested in seeing the outcome.
Somewhere within the seemingly infinite reaches of The Void, a demigod laughed in amusement as a plan started to come together.
