One good night’s sleep, a good morning threesome, and breakfast ter, the trio approached the Alpha gate. “Putting the beginning in the middle,” Tess commented. “You do have a strange order to things.”

  “In my experience, things get more interesting when you annoy those in higher pces,” Rykard answered and pushed the door open.

  A short walkway was swiftly followed by a wide opening. Large columns segmented tall walls. Above them, rows upon rows of seats created an empty auditorium. Rykard gnced over his shoulder and watched the heavy gates of divine steel fall over their entrance.

  “See, this is what I was talking about,” the king stated gleefully.

  The arena lit up. A brilliant fsh of light covered everything in wondrous radiance. It ebbed away, leaving hundreds of angels sitting up above. From the shortstacks to creatures made from crystalline, swirling rings, a myriad of the divine emissaries were present.

  Before the trio stood a singur enemy. An entity made of light, an armour animated by a greater will, ornate and armed with a sword of radiance. Golden wings scattered feathered of might into the surrounding air.

  “Your opponent is I,” the guardian angel spoke. “I am a knight of Marik, god of conquest! Face me one or all. I will test your mettle.”

  Rykard rubbed his chin. “So the Lord of Spreading Light finally had enough of my teasing, hm?”

  “You know the god this angel belongs to?”

  “Marik was the patron god of my home,” Rykard told them. “I also awakened my powers on a field dedicated to his name. And I am fairly certain that he is a sponsor of Ben, but that’s neither here nor there.” The grin of the king widened. “Do you feel like the challenge? This being should be about one step down from our conquering friend.”

  “Do you believe I would be more powerful than the Contestant mentioned, Sir?” Lyvia asked.

  “I’d like to find out,” Rykard responded.

  “If you insist on watching me fight, I will oblige,” Tess said. “I do not feel strongly about it and you seem rather hungry for the challenge.”

  Rykard was tapping the floor with his heel. Battle had been so fun since he arrived here, on the rare occasions that he met someone worth fighting anyhow. Breaking an angel of the god of conquest over his knee, now that sounded like fun! Simirly, watching Lyvia, Tess, or both dispy the full range of their capabilities could be entertaining.

  Interest outweighed battle lust in the end. “How about you two show me what you’re capable of,” Rykard said, taking three steps back.

  Lyvia and Tess beheld each other, then exchanged a nod. Two pairs of blue eyes wandered onto the angel, who patiently waited for their attack. It would have been wise to have done so in a more defensive stance.

  The two women charged simultaneously, crossing the distance in a moment. Caught completely off-guard, the guardian angel reacted with an instinctive swipe.

  Lyvia caught the divine bde at the guard. Abyssal cws clenched around the golden metal. Despite being twice as tall as the already tall leviathan dy, the angel was stopped dead in his tracks. The long tail of the admiral then wrapped around the leg of the divine emissary and yanked it back.

  Wings spread to break the fall with physics-defying magic. It did not matter. Tess had leapt before Lyvia had blocked the bde and plunged a bck dagger into the gap between helmet and chest pte. The armoured angel screeched in pain and thrashed gracelessly.

  Tess pushed herself off before the filing elbow could catch her. Leaving behind the dagger, the champion of the Bond Crow manifested a new armament in mid-air and threw it. The force was enough to kill any hope the angel had for regaining his bance. He titled over backwards, putting his neck, for a split second, at the height of Lyvia’s arms.

  The admiral struck immediately. A clenched fist smmed into the pommel of the dagger, driving the weapon even deeper into the divine flesh below.

  Cttering, the angel hit the ground hard. He tried to get up immediately, ignoring the pain, but Tess descended on raven wings, nding on the angel’s stomach. Divine pte bent and shattered. The angel stabbed wildly with his sword, forcing Tess to back off.

  Mercilessly, Lyvia kicked the side of the massive humanoid’s torso. He flipped onto his stomach. Stoic as ever, the leviathan dy put a heel in the cross of the angel’s back, gripped both golden wings at the bow and pulled. In a moment that had the entire gallery of divine emissaries above cringe, she ripped off the angel’s wings. Divine essence spurted out like golden blood, then the entire entity evaporated.

  Tess picked up the two daggers that were left behind.

  “Letting both of you at it may have been overkill,” Rykard reckoned.

  “Nooooooo,” Tess drawled sarcastically. The woman hadn’t even shown her true colours, leaving the Ravel form of hers untouched, save for the short usage of her wings. “That was a perfectly even fight.”

  “A pleasure to be exceed your expectations, Sir,” Lyvia stated, before dusting off her hands and then folding them behind her back.

  Rykard hummed and looked around. “There is no door,” he remarked.

  Just as he did so, the entire arena began to move. The walls around the fighting pit circled, as the auditorium above extended backwards. The entirety of the construction felt as if it was gliding down a set of rails, while more and more divine emissaries arrived in the new seats to witness the spectacle.

  “I guess they aren’t entertained enough,” Tess said.

  “Who can bme them?” Rykard answered. “That wasn’t a fight, that was a cleanly executed annihition. It’s not as entertaining without the struggle.” He snapped his fingers, which was Lyvia’s signal to step closer. “Mhm, there are drawbacks to combat,” he said when he tried to entertain his hand by groping her ass. Like her chest, it was currently covered by a thick yer of protective chitin. Tess’ soulbound clothing was simirly toughened up, denying his hands the full extent of her squishy tits.

  “I can lower my defences, Sir,” Lyvia suggested. “It would be a fantastic idea.”

  Rykard snorted at the sarcasm. Both of them needed some time to re-harden their protective measures. Having them drop it so he could cup a feel between combat would be a hassle. It also cost them energy. They had plenty of that, but not an unlimited amount. “It’s more important my property is safe than that I have access to it at all times,” the king decided.

  Up above, the freshly defeated angel manifested again in the gallery. Standing right by the railing, the animated armour stared down. His pride had clearly been hurt, his hunched over body nguage betrayed that much, but he remained quiet. His wings were just a faint outline. Immortal as these angels were, certain rituals or the loss of favour by their creator notwithstanding, they could still suffer temporary damage.

  “Now what will we face next?” Rykard asked after the arena slotted into a new pce. The walls stopped circling, the addition of seats ended, and all quieted in anticipation. Faintly, the mage king sensed the arguing of gods on who got to send what into the arena next.

  The buzzing ceased, then was repced with the vibrations of a will manifesting a new entity. “Huh? What is happening?!” A breaking voice asked. A serpentine neck curved. Golden scales glittered in the fading light of the summoning. “Mom, what is… oh! Oh, I have been summoned!”

  Before the trio stood a magnificent and yet awkward creature. A golden dragon of disappointing size, only about five metres from snout to the base of its tail, with feathered, angelic wings and silver eyes of cking wisdom. He, judging by the voice, cleared his throat, raised his head, and tried his best to look regal. He partly succeeded.

  “I am the mighty Rovustrasz!” the teenage dragon decred in his breaking voice. “I have been sent to face you by the Dragon God! Face me and my divine fury! Rawr!”

  “Is this thing serious?”

  “Even dragons have awkward teenage phases, be nice to him,” Rykard said and stepped forward. “Because I won’t be.” The king grinned wide enough that even the dragon took a step back for a moment. Rykard had always wanted to fight a dragon. A teenager wasn’t the best start, but it being a divine dragon evened the scales a bit.

  Rykard advanced. The women with him retreated to the edge of the arena, not to be caught in the crossfire. Step by step, they fell back and Rykard approached the dragon.

  Robustrasz took another step back, then another one, then stopped. The teenage dragon tilted his head, still rge enough to chomp a sheep in half, and watch Rykard get closer. The king projected his presence as intensely as he could. He wanted to intimidate this dragon, watch it squirm like an uncertain cat.

  A raised cw upended that pn.

  In his pride, Rykard had put his hands in his pockets. No gesture, no woven spell, no defensive barrier between him and the impact of the teenage dragon’s paw. There was only the pain of the impact, of being flung like a rock, and of skipping over the ground until he hit the wall. The impact was hard enough to crack stone.

  “Am I missing something here?” the teenage dragon asked.

  Rykard could understand why. A loosened rock fell on his lowered head. He remained there for a moment, while the alchemy in his blood fixed the immediate damage. There was an iron taste in his mouth. ‘That is what I get for treating a teenage dragon like a regur teenager,’ the king thought and raised his head.

  “Dude, you are so creepy!” Robustrasz decred. “Stop grinning!”

  “Why would I, when I am fighting an actual dragon!” Rykard pushed himself off the ground and dusted off his clothes. “That hurt.”

  “I mean, duh,” the dragon answered.

  “It really hurt,” Rykard emphasized and rolled his neck.

  “Are you into that kind of stuff?” the dragon asked mockingly.

  “You’re not old enough to discuss that with,” Rykard responded. “Know only that you have my respect, young one.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s keep going!”

  The shout was followed by Rykard dropping to one knee. A fireball bellowed from the dragon’s mouth flew over the mage’s head and hit the wall behind him. Golden fmes licked over the succubus-blessed clothes of the king.

  Fingers cwed into that dirt. Magic pulsed into the compacted grains of the arena floor. Suddenly, Rykard clenched the grip of a weapon and ripped it upwards.

  It was too big to be called a sword. Massive, thick, heavy, and far too rough. Indeed, it was a heap of raw iron and magic. Rykard felt his muscles strain against the sheer weight of his Alteration-crafted Dragon Syer. From his arms to his legs, all struggled to cim bance.

  The king was not stopped by struggles, only invigorated to overcome the obstacles in his path. Charging suddenly, he leapt and cut through the storms of fireballs Robustrasz bellowed at him.

  “Wow, so you are actually dangerou-” The teenage dragon’s banter was cut short when Rykard accelerated further. The same Alteration that had let him manifest the sword warped the physical dimensions around him. All was changed by the mage’s will and his expansive mana.

  Robustrasz raised a cw to block the strike. An inexperienced and nonetheless correct action. Rather than its neck, it was merely the forearm that was cut by the heavy impact of the borderline dull weapon. The Dragon Syer was more a bded mace than an actual sword. Swung with enough force, that ceased to matter. Golden scales were split.

  “OW!” the golden dragon curved his neck to bite Rykard. The king was faster and spun around, smacking his opponent with the ft of the broad bde. A sound like a frying pan smacking a rock filled the arena.

  Dazed, the dragon retreated. Another instinctive decision that was correct. Rykard’s current spellwork was exhausted and the weight of the weapon made it impossible to execute a lunge to punish the retreat. He pced the tip of the enormous weapon on the ground, so he would not have to keep up the burden of holding it the entire time.

  Dragon and king stared at each other across a short divide.

  “Are you just going stand there, huh?!” Robustrasz dropped into a ready stance. The intention was clear: pounce on Rykard the moment he moved again.

  “...” The king just stared for a moment. “RANDOM BULLSHIT GO!”

  “WHA-AT?!” cracked the voice of the dragon.

  Rykard tore the air open with his off-hand. Out came pouring a swarm of locusts, a silver knife, thirteen keys, and something that looked like a tree if a tree decided to identify as a crossbow bolt. All of that and more flew towards the golden dragon.

  The dropped posture turned into a leap. Robustrasz beat his wings to try to escape the conjured tide. The swarm of random bullshit took a sharp turn and flew after the teenage dragon.

  Turning in midair, Robustrasz bombarded the assailing items with wave after wave of golden fme. Each incinerated what it touched, but the tide was endless. Rykard kept the spell going. Lawn gnomes surfaced, pointy-hat first, from the endless bckness of the undefined material of the Conjuration Realm.

  “YOU THROW LAWN GNOMES AT ME?!” Robustrasz roared with all of the anger of a mad teenager.

  “Would you not like to be the dragon sin by wn gnomes?” Rykard shouted back. “COME ON! FIGHT!”

  “YOU ARE SO CREEPY! URGH!” The dragon went into a dive, aiming straight for Rykard and the source of the chasing garden decorations. Not the worst decision if the dragon had been the stronger of the two combatants, but to try and brute force against a superior opponent was almost always a stupid move.

  And so it was here. Rykard surged the amount of energy he poured into the portal. It ripped open twice as rge and out rolled a carriage made entirely of gold and mithril. Robustrasz tried to stop his charge, but it came too te. The carriage rolled over him like a handcart over a rge dog. Four wheels fttened the dragon. Once over the creature, the wagon disappeared into another portal. All of the other items were dismissed at the wave of Rykard’s hand.

  “Good effort,” Rykard complimented the dragon.

  “You sound like… my dad!” Robustrasz groaned and shook his head. “I am not done yet!”

  “Good! Great even,” Rykard pointed the Dragon Syer at his opponent. “You’re being every bit the dragon I wanted to fight so far! Keep it up!”

  “I don’t need your approval, dude!” the divine entity roared, his lips curled into a little bit of a smile.

  “Let’s do things your way next.” Rykard beat his chest. Alchemy mixed with Destruction magic in his lungs. A little gust of fire rose from his lips.

  “For real? Alright!” The teenage dragon inhaled deeply. It was almost adorable that he did not even have a concept of being tricked. Good for him that Rykard was not here to teach him that lesson. He would, however, teach the dragon some humility.

  Someone needed to be humble in this world and it certainly was not going to be Rykard.

  Imitating a dragon’s breath attack as a human was a risky endeavour. Gathering this much mana in lungs not designed for the purpose could lead to internal damage at a simple slip-up. Lesser mages did not even attempt it. The destructive capacity of such a spell was not worth it to them.

  For Rykard, it was a spell woven for his own entertainment.

  Mage and divine dragon leaned backwards as they filled their lungs to the brim with air and magic. Simultaneously, they snapped forwards and bellowed out the fmes of destruction. Rykard’s fire was red hot, while that of Robustrasz was a tide of gold that almost shimmered like a liquid.

  The two tides of magical heat cshed. Cones of magic competed for dominance. Feet and cws dug into the ground from the kinetic backsh of their metaphysical struggle. Compacted dirt was bckened and sand gssed by the endless tide of fire.

  Robustrasz kept the tide going at a steady rate. It was obvious he had pride in his origins, as all dragons (to a rge degree rightfully) had. In doing so, he underestimated just how long the breath of his opponent was.

  Rykard kept the attack going for far longer than the golden dragon must have anticipated. Confidence was repced with desperation. Robustrasz tickled everything he could out of the volume of his lungs and the flow of his mana. It was all for naught. Rykard’s fire breath pushed the ebbing tide of gold back, until finally the red hot tide washed over the teenage dragon with such force he was pushed backwards.

  Pinned against the wall for three solid seconds, the belly of the gold dragon was covered in soot. When the magical tide abated, Robustrasz fell gracelessly onto his side.

  Putting a hand on his hip, Rykard grinned to himself. The st bits of fme within him escaped through his exposed teeth. His fantastic mood was compromised by the sniffing sound that he heard a moment ter.

  The teenage dragon curled up where he id and quivered. ‘Maybe that was a bit too harsh,’ the king thought. Even if he was leaving that stage of his life and even if he was a five-metre long lizard of death and destruction, Robustrasz was a child. A child that struggled not to break out into a tantrum after he was beaten at what his species was supposed to be best at. “We can stop,” Rykard suggested.

  “No… just… give me a second…” Robustrasz pouted. After about half a minute and confused mumbling by the crowd. The gold dragon got back on his four feet. “You wanted to fight a dragon… the Dragon God chose me… I won’t….” he sniffed. “...I won’t give up!”

  “I do really appud your tenacity,” Rykard encouraged the dragon.

  Letting go of the created sword, Rykard dropped the magic that kept it as iron. The hunk of metal reversed to sand, scattering on impact.

  “However, you don’t need to go any further. This was satisfying. Anything more would just be unnecessary harm.” Rykard put his hands in his pockets. “Take pride, kid, you’re strong. Remember this fight and become stronger.”

  Robustrasz defted and id down. “I just wanna go home,” he grumbled. A wish that was granted a moment ter, as divine light whisked the dragon away - likely back to whatever hoard his mother was located at.

  “I am not sure if I am impressed with your combat prowess or disgusted that you bullied that kid,” Tess greeted her man when he walked back to them.

  “It was hardly bullying, he was actually dangerous,” Rykard answered and rolled his jaw. He still felt that first impact in his bones. “Had I underestimated him because he was young, I wouldn’t have gotten away with only getting smacked once.” His smile returned. “Makes you wonder what comes next though.”