Large circular walls made of rough black stone stood on top of a tall peak reaching towards the sky, forming a base of a tower. The top layer of the wall was still glowing red from the heat, the heat radiating out of it, causing the air to shiver.
The dragon leaving behind a trail of black smoke, circled around the black stone circle, his wings tilted to the right side. His mouth was wide open, unleashing a stream of thick dark-orange, almost already cooled-down lava.
The dark-orange lava splashed against the top layer of the stone circle, forming a new layer on top of it, slowly flowing down the black stone walls.
The three curled crystalline horns on Vesuvius’s head were brightly glowing, and strong winds full of water droplets surged around him, hitting against the fresh layer of lava and quickly cooling it down to form a new layer of black stone.
The dragon kept circling the stone base under him, which was quickly growing higher and higher. It looked like a wasp building its nest by putting layers of biomass over and over.
POV Fifth Brother:
A group of people in pure white robes stood on top of the town wall, which was still stained by red traces of blood, their gazes on the tall peak on the horizon. Their long white robes fluttered in the wind, light masks hiding their concerned faces.
A massive evil-looking black tower was growing right under their eyes on the distant peak, quickly climbing towards the sky as if to challenge gods. Thick black clouds whirled around the building as winds around an eye of a hurricane.
The massive, monstrous wyrm circled the tower, its colossal body occasionally piercing through the black clouds of smoke, its black colour with patches of magma making them look like a demon straight from the depths of hell.
“This can’t just be elder wyrm… this size is beyond that.” one of them spoke, his voice slightly wavering.
“So it is an ancient wyrm, but not too old as they still didn’t form their domain. We still have a chance to win.” the second one joined, his hand eagerly gripping the light whip.
“Brothers, the cult of the dragon is spreading through the barony, and our priest turns a demon right as he confronts a dragon worshipper. We can’t step back in fear when our god needs us.”
Finally, their leader, with silver thread ornaments on his robes, joined the conversation, “It is obvious the wyrm used the invasion of the demons to discredit our church. They must be stopped as evil heretics that they are.”
Suddenly a voice came from the streets under the wall where small people and players stood unmovingly, pointing at the tall pitch-black tower. Some of them were terrified, while others were excited or even praying.
“Ohh, people of the Azerlisia, the great wyrm sent by the dragon god to bring order and prosperity once again became the target of the vile schemes of mortals envious of our guardian.” An evil heretical priest in pitch black, evil-looking robes stood there, vile inhuman energy radiating out of his body.
“They came here from afar, wanting to murder our guardian, forcing them to finally come out of the shadows and build their own army, to protect you and all believers.”
POV DrakeKun:
The tall figure in pitch black robes, with a shiny brass mask with pattern of scales, stood in the corner of a street, holding his staff high above his head, his gaze moving through the small crowd around him.
“People do not listen to the lies of the corrupted foreigners and obsolete clergy of obsolete churches that have abandoned you during your time of need.”
Few people in the crowd nodded, mumbling in approval.
[+1 FAI]
“Well, well, what do we have here? A priest, no a cultist, is preaching to masses in a broad light.”
The crowd turned around toward the voice, everyone immediately turning pale before dispersing in all directions.
A group of inquisitors in pure white robes, with their faces hidden behind the masks of pure light, slowly formed a circle around DrakeKun, moving closer and closer to him, their armoured boots dinging on the stone road.
He didn’t panic and immediately used analysis on the closest one.
Ding!
//
Analyze result:
Name: Anastasius Anal
Species: Blessed Human (Light)
Occupation: NPC/Inquisitor of Light Church
Level: >50
Danger level: Deadly
//
DrakeKun snickered, trying to hold back his laughter after reading the inquisitor’s name. However, his laugh vanished when he got to the information about the level.
‘Ohh, shit, they are about level fifty, and who knows how high.’
His mood dropped even more after his eyes fell on one inquisitor in the back with a nametag floating above his head, ‘So they are players between them. That will make it impossible to dispose of them quietly.’
Still, he held his nervosity back, keeping his mind cool as he widely spread his arms in t-pose as if encouraging them to attack. His thumb on his left hand slowly moved towards the plain iron spiky ring as his last insurance, knowing that he couldn’t afford to get captured as that would be much worse than simply dying.
His tone was confident as he spoke without fear, “What are you gonna do? Attack me, a priest of another church and prove to everyone how petty you are? That you are just tyrants, bullying young churches?”
“How dare you heretic…” one of the inquisitors reached to the whip on his belt, making DrakeKun tense up even more, his grip on his staff tightening as he prepared to counterattack, ready to immediately channel his mana into it.
However, the inquisitor closest to DrakeKun raised his palm, signalling for his fellow colleague to stop.
“No fourth brother, don’t fall for his trap. He wants to turn into a martyr to twist public opinion even further from us.” the inquisitor raised his hand, pointing at the dragon in the sky, “We will kill that so-called guardian wyrm, proving to everyone that they were nothing more than weak scammer unable to protect even themselves, ending this whole cult straight in its roots.”
The inquisitor turned on his heels, quickly walking away with his whole group hurriedly following him, their white robes fluttering behind them. The still-tense DrakenKun felt relieved, loosening his grip on his staff and moving his thumb away from the pointy ring.