It's time for the big fight!
I feel like the announcer in wwe!
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The spine of the fallen Probability Dragon Emperor rose across the horizon like the ribs of a broken world with towering vertebrae miles high, each one a mountain of ossified fate. The air crackled. The light bent. Nothing was stable. It was as if the corpse sensed all these little ants about to kill each in their untold hundreds if not thousands.
Ridges of bone twisted into impossible angles. Tendons stretched into bridges and then weren't bridges anymore. Golden ichor rivers flowed backward, upward, and in spirals depending on who looked at them. This was where the battle would begin and end.
At the center of the spine, atop the Emperor's largest vertebra bigger than a capital city two armies converged. Armies of dragons. Armies of kings and queens. And in the middle of the maelstrom, marching with brutal precision through war-torn bone valleys, came Artorius Pendrath and the combined forces of the Sword Dragon. This would be the bloodbath that Ouroboros had foreseen and who knew what else was in store.
The Sword Dragon King had unleashed everything. The sky above the vertebrae thundered as legions of sword-born dragons swept in tight formation sleek, metallic-scaled creatures whose wings gleamed with rune-branded edges capable of cutting through probability itself. They advanced through the storms with grim resolve.
Artorius marched ahead of them, his mist cloak whipping violently in the unstable winds. Ahead, the Sword Dragon King hovered like a blade suspended in the heavens. Behind the king, two powerful figures landed with enough force to crack a vertebra ridge: the pain and paper dragon!
This was the entirety of the Sword Dragon's might. A legion worthy of carving a throne from a great dragon's corpse. Turning to face him, the Sword Dragon spoke, "You will lead my army, Artorius."
The pain dragon looked incensed when he heard that but Artorius doubted there were any real thoughts of strategy besides inflicting pain going on inside its head which the Sword Dragon also assumed. "I will do the best I can but it is not optimal that each royal should lead his own army."
There had been many arguments who would lead the armies seeing that it was not going anywhere it was decided each royal dragon could lead their own army. "There is nothing to do about it. They are all arrogant and prideful, taking orders from anyone is not in their nature," the paper dragon remarked.
"That is true," the sword dragon laughed. "Already herding them all here has been painful. If you are worried the enemy will be united then don't be. They will be as fracturious as us!"
"Anyways we are outnumbered so how will that work?" Artorius asked. On their side they had 6 royal dragons while the other side had 7. When it came down to it this is where the fighting would most likely matter and they were already outnumbered.
"We spoke about it and the noble dragons will have to step up. You, the Crimson Drakonar, and the Pain Dragon will have to take on one of the lesser royal dragons together."
"Great," Artorius muttered, he did not sign up for this at all. Meanwhile the pain dragon looked happy and the Crimson Drakonar looked grim. Still this was the opening he was looking for and asked, "Mind removing the collar?" he asked.
The dragon looked hesitant and Artorius added, "Come on. I swore an oath and won't be turning on our side to massacre everyone!" The dragon looked up at the sky where dark probability clouds gathered but there was something else beyond them.
"No," he said shaking his head. "You will have to make do like you were before." And that seemed to be the end of the conversation.
An unnatural shadow swept across the horizon. Then another. And another. A dozen royal dragons and their armies converged like a storm front of living natural disasters. They came in waves each style more awe-striking and terrifying than the last.
The first army to arrive came with a deep purple glow that lit the sky. Dragons the color of radioactive dusk descended, their scales humming with unstable energies. Atom Racers. Proton Drakes. Neutron Serpents. Every wingbeat distorted the ground.
At their center hovered a dragon blazing like a living fusion core The Atomic Dragon. His breath trails left glowing streaks that melted through bone. He alone was equal to a natural disaster.
A roar like collapsing tides split the air. From the western skies came a massive wave of water, the great mass of it levitating under the command of aquatic dragons. Tidal Wurms. Abyss Wyverns. Coral Drakes. Their presence filled the sky with salt, storm clouds, and pressure. At their head swam through the air was The Ocean Dragon Queen, fins shimmering with abyssal glow.
Then came the Fragrance Queen with different scents filling the air from honeyed lilies, cold jasmine, harsh roses, summer rain. She came forth with her army of bloom serpents, incense wurms, pollen wyverns, and more.
Thunder cracked in spirals. Storm serpents and sky serpents flew in synchronized lines, lightning wrapped around their wings. The Sky Dragon herself tore down from the upper atmosphere like a comet of cloud and lightning.
The horizon pixelated. Digital fractals tore open in the sky as quantum cyber constructs entered the battlefield, machine-dragons with electromagnetic wings, optical armor, and data-stream breath.
Besides here, the ground began trembling. Something moved faster than perception. A blur streaked from one vertebra peak to another, each landing sending shockwaves through the Emperor's corpse. A dragon shaped like a living streak of motion curved horns, flowing mane, hooved limbs kicking sparks of inertia stood atop a high ridge. The Kinetic Dragon, Kirin of constant motion.
Dual lights flashed. The sky split into two horizons; one sunset, one sunrise. The Twilight Dragon soared, scales absorbing light. The Dawn Dragon followed, scales radiating brilliant luminescence. Their armies mirrored the effect; shadow-drakes and light wyverns weaving across each other in a dizzying aerial dance.
A sound like shattering crystal rolled across the spinal plains sharp, resonant, melodic. The air filled with crystalline motes, drifting like broken pieces of rainbows. The Gem Dragon stepped out, tall, regal and beautiful. Behind here was her amethyst wurm, emerald serpents, sapphire wyverns, diamond drakes.
The battlefield itself twisted. The corpse was alive in subtle ways. Tendons stretched to create sudden bridges, then collapsed without warning. Ichor rivers reversed, flowed upward, or spiraled into vortices, painting impossible paths. Vertebrae creaked, as though in anticipation of the coming slaughter. The very ground of the Emperor's body bent, cracked, and reformed beneath the gathering armies.
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As the armies swelled, the probability storms reacted. Lightning struck where no thundercloud existed. Rain fell upward. Gravity warped. Every step risked disaster or sudden triumph. Dragons had to adjust or risk missteps, falling into spiraling pits of flesh, others finding themselves hurled impossibly far across vertebrae. Even the Sword Dragon's legions struggled to maintain formation.
Far above, atop the Dragon Peaks, the ancient dragon monarchs observed the unfolding spectacle. Their eyes were rivers of time and power, shimmering with aeons of experience. They peered down at their descendants, the noble and royal warriors of the skies, noting the subtle strategies forming in the chaos.
From their lofty vantage, the chaos below was like an ant hill being overturned as thousands of dragons all converged on a corpse that itself was rewriting the rules of existence. The Great Dragons did not intervene… yet. They simply watched, knowing that the balance of the Dragon Nest was about to be rewritten, either by blood, strategy, or sheer probability.
Atop the central vertebra, Artorius drew a slow breath. This was it, he looked across the battlefield, eyes hardening. "Prepare yourselves," he murmured. The bloodbath was about to begin.
The armies stretched beyond the horizon, a sea of scales and wings so vast that the ground itself seemed to quiver under the weight of their convergence. Each legion was a storm unto itself. Banners woven from flame and shadow fluttered between them, each one a sigil of dynastic pride and honor.
A blade-like shockwave exploded as the Sword Dragon King extended his wings fully, casting a razor-shadow across the spine. His voice rang like shattering steel. "Dragons of the Nest!"
Everyone seemed to hear him, "Today we stand upon the corpse of Zytherion, the Emperor of Infinite Probabilities!" A rumble answered him, the corpse itself. "Within this corpse lies all our hearts desires and the key to our ascension."
A wave of heated murmurs passed through all assembled armies. "And only one shall claim it." The Atomic Dragon's grin widened. "Enough talk. Let the war begin."
The Probability Storm detonated. No one knew which side attacked first. Some said the Atomic Dragon's corona flared. Others swore the Psychic Dragon flexed its mind. A few saw the Sword Dragon King's blade-wings narrow by a fraction. But whatever the cause, all-out war erupted instantly. No warning. No formation. No strategy. Chaos manifested in pure form.
The entire center of the spine became a screaming vortex of destruction. Lightning tore through sword drakes. Gem wyverns fired prismatic beams into Sound Dragon formations, refracting and splitting into harmonic explosions. Paper Wurms wrapped around ocean drakes, slicing scales like origami.
Light Drakes spammed exploding bolts into wire serpents. Momentum drakes ricocheted through formations faster than the eye could follow. The vertebra valley churned with shredded wings, splattering blood, screaming elemental power, shattering bone, probability distortions twisting every impact. Some dragons simply vanished into maelstrom pockets. Others multiplied. Others reversed direction mid-flight.
Artorius stood in the midst of it all, feet braced on quaking bone. The mist of his cloak erupted behind him like a banner. He was busy giving orders for what it was worth as the chaos was all encompassing.
Raijin roared lightning. Zoklath tore through an acceleration drake. The Crimson Drakonar barked orders to elite Sword troops. And Artorius, collared, limited, yet burning with relentless will watched the first waves crash against each other. Dragons clashed so hard the air folded. Some bites missed and struck other targets as there was plenty of opponents to go.
The main fights began, one by one, the kings and queens joined the carnage. A ripple went through air itself as the Psychic Dragon unleashed a psionic shockwave.
Units froze. Some stared at things only they could see. Others turned their weapons on allies, unable to distinguish hallucination. Neon lines ignited as the Cyber Dragon King surged forward with digital precision, deploying cybernetic arrays of electromagnetic pulse storms. The two of them clashed like a battle between idea and machine.
The Ocean Queen summoned a great wave which devoured many dragons, dragging them to their depths. The Gem Dragon answered by refracting sunlight into devastating beams of concentrated lasers that split waves, cutting trenches into the bone. Every clash sent steam pillars skyward.
Perfume-venom clouds rolled across the battlefield. Colors shimmered. Dragons hallucinated their own deaths. The Sky Dragon retaliated with vortex storms, winds so powerful they stripped the ground itself into ribbons. The two queens twisted the sky into battling storms of scent and wind.
The battlefield darkened and brightened in pulses as the twin sisters moved in mirrored arcs. Against them, sonic shockwaves detonated like artillery and lighting bolts rained down. The collision was blinding.
The main fight however was two whose clash almost eclipsed the armies. A roar like a miniature sun. A blade that cut the roar in half. The Sword Dragon King dove. The Atomic Dragon erupted. Their collision flash-burned a good portion of the battlefield and the war escalated further.
Artorius' forces had carved out a wedge near the center, but the Kinetic Dragon's army always moving, always accelerating, closed in like a swarm of living impacts. Artorius lifted his blood soaked arms, eyes blazing despite the collar's suppressive grip.
The fighting was brutal and he lost how many he slain only the message from the system drew his attention. Congratulations! You have leveled up. Class: [Storybook Squire] → Lv. 28
The Pain Dragon landed beside him, licking bloody teeth. The Crimson Drakonar roared. Together, they stared across the shifting battlefield at the oncoming storm of dragons.
The Kinetic Dragon perched on a distant ridge, horned head tilted, motion shimmer surrounding him. He smiled and Artorius returned it. "Come get it." And as the central vertebra groaned again as probability storms thickened as armies of every type tore into each other. The battle for the corpse truly began.
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Deep beneath the organ depths, under bone ridges tall enough to hold storms in their hollows, beneath tendons that grew like forests of gnarled ligament and then dissolved into vapor, there existed a region no dragon willingly tread a cavernous necropolis inside Zytherion's ancient collapsed organs.
And now, it became the hunting ground for a coalition of six royal powers descending to hunt down one. Their combined forces moved like a living avalanche through the bone-tunnels. Scales scraped fossilized cartilage. Draconic footsteps shook dust from lung caverns large as cities. Every motion sent echoes that slithered into forgotten folds of the Emperor's necrotic labyrinth. The deeper the armies pushed, the more the corpse pushed back. Still, they marched.
Within one of the hearts, far below, past valleys of calcified arteries. The Death Dragon and Phantasmal Dragon awaited. Between them sat the Egg.It was enormous crawling with runes like living ink. Inside it, something pulsed. Something vast.
And the Death Dragon, laughing quietly to himself as shadows twisted into warning signs, whispered: "They're coming."
The Phantasmal Dragon did not answer with words. She unfolded into a dozen ghostly copies, each walking a different possible future. Their voices overlapped: "Seven thousand six hundred forty-one possible branching outcomes. Only three end without annihilation."
The Death Dragon's grin widened, too many teeth showing. "Is that so? Good! I hate predictable fights."
One of the ghost-copies flickered with concern. "Are you prepared?"
"For what? Dying? Oh yes. I've practiced." The Phantasmal Dragon's projections all sighed. But behind their shared tension, both dragons turned toward the Egg. The creature inside stirred. It was not ready. But it was close.
The cavern lights shifted. Sand poured from cracks in the ceiling, forming tornadoes of razor crystals. Shadows lengthened, spiking like spears. Flames roared as the Infernal legion spilled in. Their combined presence made the cavern feel tiny. They stopped before the chamber that led inside.
"Death Dragon," the Sand King rumbled, voice like grinding dunes. "You hide yourself deep, but not deep enough."
"Come out," hissed the Shadow Dragon, his body a silhouette with no core. "We have no patience."
Laughter echoed from inside bouncing off the hollowed ribs of the corpse. The doors swung open. With a nod from their leaders, the armies charged inside. The Death Dragon who sat before the egg raised a single claw and whispered his law. "Decompose."
The front lines of dragons instantly fossilized turning to dust statues mid-flight before collapsing into lifeless husks. But the six Royals pushed through. Their combined power tore holes through the necrotic aura surrounding Death. Each blow forced him back.
The cavern shook. The Egg pulsed harder, reacting to its guardian's rising desperation. The Phantasmal Dragon stepped in to aid. The Shadow Dragon hissed, "Annoying creature," as he batted her away.
The Death Dragon growled, stepping in front of her, skeletal wings blocking an incoming barrage. The battlefield collapsed into pure carnage. The Death Dragon and the six royals clashed, the cavern walls rupturing with every strike.
Meanwhile their armies were fighting each other, colliding in a storm of claws, wings, fire, and shadow. The Death Dragon and Phantomasal dragoness followers swarmed the chamber, trying to hold the lines.
But the combined might of the six Royals was staggering. Sand wurms twisted through tunnels, crushing death drakes under tons of shifting earth. Shadow wyverns tore through spectral illusions with concentrated darkness, dissolving them into nothing. Infernal dragonids scorched the necrotic defenders with unrelenting fire. Thermal dragons scorched anything alive, moon dragons rained silvery energy from above, and mineral drakes stomped skeletal lines into rubble.
The two royal dragons forces fought with desperate coordination, their drakes lashing out in rage, ghost being called, and necrotic magic twisting the battlefield but the sheer numbers of the combined army were overwhelming.
"Is this all?" he taunted. "I've been tickled harder before." However his poor state said otherwise with the Phantasmal Dragon corner. Behind them, the Egg pulsed faster. Reality warped around it like a heartbeat bending dimensions. The Death Dragon glanced back at it. And decided. "This," he said softly, "is as far as I go."
The Infernal Dragon asked in his deep rumbling voice, "What are you planning?"
The Sand Dragon, his old rival called out, "Stop him!"
The Death Dragon smiled with all his broken, jagged teeth. "Don't worry…" He spread his wings and used his own law against himself. "…you'll be joining me." Then he detonated. The explosion was not fire. Not light. Not energy. It was death. Pure death. The concept of endings unleashed without restraint.
The cavern became a crater carved out of annihilation. The six royal leaders took the brunt still their army did not come out unscathed. Many were suffering from necrotic effects from some with half gone bodies, bodies liquefied, or mummified.
And the Death Dragon simply vanished. His laugh echoed long after his body was gone. It was the laugh of someone who had prepared for this moment. The Phantasmal Dragon screamed not in grief, but in alarm. "The Egg is reacting—!"
Silence. Then a sound. Crack. The runes on the egg spiraled. The air folded. The cavern deepened into infinity. Another crack. Another. The Sand King whispered, terrified, "No… No, this cannot… We are not ready—"
"Attack it with everything you have," the Infernal dragon commanded the army and other royal dragons. Sand storms hit it, shadow tendrils wrapped around it, infernal fire tried melting it, moonlight tried to slice it, different rocks hit it but it all did nothing. Worse the attacks seem to feed it.
Until the Egg split open and something stepped out. A young newly born dragon stepped out and looked innocently at all the dragons in the chamber. Its scales shimmering in impossible colors that refracted and absorbed light at once. "Kill it now," the mineral dragon roared like tectonic plates grinding as everyone renewed their attacks.
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Being born just right now, the immortal blooded dragon already realized the danger it was in and used its brand new mutation it awakened when it hatched. It roared, a dragon roar so rare it overwhelmed everything around it. The sound was the absence of sound, a ripple that shattered minds. Hundreds of dragons and other soldiers fell unconscious, collapsing mid-flight or mid-step. Only the six royal dragons and a handful of their strongest followers remained standing, struggling to comprehend the impossible.
"A Dragon Roar…" the sand dragon uttered in complete and utter shock. In one fell swoop, the newly born dragon knocked out the army oppose to in one fell swoop. Even it with such a prestigious and supreme blood could not face thousands of dragons.
"Take it down. It can not live," the shadow dragon uttered as the few remaining dragon each charged up their attacks.
That was the last mistake they made. It moved. In a blink, faster than thought, the newborn dragon took a step, leaving motes of nothingness. Even the six royal dragons felt their instincts scream in confusion and terror.
The Infernal Dragon sent forth flames meant to sear, to burn, to dominate. But as the flames approached, they were absorbed, drawn into the newborn. The Moon Dragon swung its silver wings, carving arcs of concentrated lunar energy toward the Void Dragon.
With a flick of its claw, the newly born Dragon struck, and everything tore in concentric rings around the Moon Dragon. She screamed, but the sound never reached anyone else as her body dissolved into echoes, vanishing into nothing.
The Thermal Dragon shot searing superheated currents, hoping to melt or destabilize. The dragon opened its mouth a black hole inside its throat and it sucked it in including the Thermal dragon.
One by one each and every single one was crushed like they were nothing. Even the cavern itself seemed inadequate to contain the newborn. With every beat of its wings, reality frayed. The Phantasmal Dragon could only watch as the royal dragon and their armies were destroyed like toys being overturned by a child.
Already it held mastery of its element right out of the egg, something that none ever had. With a roar that was the absence of sound itself, the Void Dragon stood triumphant over them all. The Phantasmal Dragon shivered as the Void Dragon landed before her. Its eyes, twin voids, looked directly at her. The air seemed to hold its breath. "I am… Noxiris," it said, voice both a whisper and a scream, echoing through every corner of Zytherion's corpse, through every layer
She gaped already it knew speech after only what a few minutes of hatching. Then she did the only thing she could, she bowed her head and whispered. "I.. I live to serve!"
Author Note: That is part 1 of the fight there will be part 2 where war is concluded.
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Chapter 39 Recap!
Leveled up Class: Storybook Squire to Lvl. 28!