Chapter 1: Prologue: Azeth, The Chaos Dragon
It was night, but not a silent one.
There were goblins, a horde of them. They had pointy ears, long and sharp, resembling those of an elf. Their pointy noses made the difference, adding the necessary ugliness. Chipped claws, scrawny bodies and teeth that barely could be called fangs were among the other normal features. What stood out was the scarlet red skin.
It was a result of the recent bloodbath. This horde found itself trapped within a small barrier.
Outside stood several men, donned in formidable silver armor, brandishing gleaming longswords. Some wielded spears with a mastery that set them apart. Many others had bows and arrows lined up. One man even held a long axe, but it was not too extraordinary.
The goblins whimpered as the men marched forward. It wasn't too hard to tell who the hunter and prey were.
Inevitably, the goblins awaited their demise.
What could they even do?
Fight?
Their chipped nails were torn, canines blunted, and bodies fatigued. Scars ran wild all over them.
They had long forgotten about resistance.
The barrier was made in such a way that the soldiers could enter it while the goblins could only dream of exiting.
One of the soldiers was grinning ear to ear. His name was Ertyu, known for his sinister acts even against innocent humans.
Poised to commence the slaughter, he raised his sword. He had taken the lead and was absolutely going to enjoy it. He felt an unexplanable euphoria derived from the sight of defenseless goblins. The sentiment was shared by the soldiers outside, including the Prince, who observed the scene from a throne not far away.
"Kill them, kahahahaha!", the prince, clad in all gold ornaments, laughed out loud as he gave the command.
The soldier who heard this began the swinging. The closest goblin closed its eyes shut tightly, ready to accept death…
And then…
Splash!
The audible cut was swiftly followed by the spray of blood. The male goblin, prepared to meet his end, felt the warm touch of blood on his skin, prompting him to open his eyes.
To his surprise, his head remained intact. Confused, he turned to the right, where the soldier had stood, only to witness a chilling spectacle.
The soldier, Ertyu, now stood headless, blood erupting from his neck like a crimson fountain. More terrifying was the figure next to him, shrouded in darkness. Half the height of the soldier, compensated by the length of a foreboding tail. Skin as black as night, claws seemingly forged from shadows.
The entire surrounding had fallen quiet. The only movements were the gulps of large chunks of saliva.
Initially perceived as a lizard, this notion quickly dissipated as the blood-fountain ceased. No, it was a dragon, the weakest being in the world. Yet, in the face of this supposed weakling, all the soldiers fell to their knees, trembling in fear, pleading for a swift and painless death. The rumored powerful dragon, Azeth, now seemed more than just hearsay.
Munching on the soldier's head, the dragon strolled leisurely but soon accelerated, vanishing from the scene and leaving behind a spectacular display of blood fountains comprised of 300 heads!
Gasps echoed, but not a cry reverberated. It was now a silent night.
"A bloody night, ain't it?" the dragon addressed the prince, now standing face-to-face. The royal figure trembled and sweated profusely, his eyes losing focus. In a moment of terror, he wet himself, his body spasming. Within seconds, a severe heart attack tried to claim his life.
The dragon muttered something, causing a small green light to shine around the prince.
Eyes remained wide open as the prince's heart calmed down. He felt more lively than ever.
The prince slowly raised his head, confused but understanding what the mysterious spell the dragon had cast on him…
"Healing spell…?"
Azeth pushed his tiny left hand forward.
"Tsk tsk. You are meant to be hunted. Prey mustn't die on their own, you Bongo."
His claws thrust in and entered the prince's throat very easily. It was as if he was sliding them through butter.
Gulg!
A small amount of blood accumulated in his mouth, which he coughed. His eyes then went lifeless, but even after that, it had fear.
The little dragon plucked out the prince's head and put it on the ground. Then he used it as a 'climbing step'.
The little dragon ascended the throne. Sitting with tiny legs crossed and tail hanging down, he rested his head on his right hand. Initially, his eyes closed, but upon opening, the moon appeared behind him, creating a divine visage. No, a terrifying one.
The goblins, overwhelmed by fear, gratitude, and respect, bowed down in unison. After all, it was a being that humanity could not overcome, and if left alone, would become a disaster that would consume them alive. It was the flagbearer of death, the epitome of mercilessness, and the symbol of disaster. It was Azeth, the Chaos Dragon.
Note: I hope you give all the free chapters a try.