"Okay, buckle up, Dracula," I started. "It started back in the Maden Kingdom. Prince Ford—yeah, the guy with the hero complex and the 'I-must-save-everyone' jawline—tagged along. We ended up at the volcano, which was basically an oven for gods.
That's where I rescued Sir Alex and his team. They were stuck as 'Puppet Titans' until I decided to break the script."
Viking glanced up at Alex. The Titan looked down at the vampire, a silent acknowledgement of power between two beings who shouldn't exist in the same paragraph.
"Then," I continued, pacing now, "we hauled our collective butts here to the West.
This wasteland? It's a graveyard. And the dungeon? It's a sentient, mirror-obsessed nightmare.
But wait, it gets better. Apparently, the Goddess Novella, who is basically my cosmic pen pal at this point, told me the Supreme God actually likes me. So, the Big Boss himself gifted me this.
I held up my hand, the invisible yellow ring pulsing with a sudden, warm light.
