Alan stared at an effervescent portal held open by the stubby soul, Trio Doden.
Hang on, Flint.
He held up his feather to call Ria back to his side, summoned Voltair, his flaming steed, to spawn under him, and flipped out all his valuable coins, rousing his sleeping minions for battle.
“Time for rest is over.” Alan drew his dark blade. “Gardstrife, Yogi, Hendra, Figro… today we answer the call of our allies.”
Yogi flexed. “We are with you, noble Alan, always.”
Gardstrife sharpened his blades, Hendra clapped her hammer, and Figro punched his shield to echo Yogi’s sentiment.
“Good. Show them the force we’ve grown to be.” Alan flashed his Variant Saro through his fists.
“Goodness me. God-ness may. If you walk through there, you best be prepared to die.” Trio frowned. “A god seeking to declare war has no reason to stop until the field is clear. Take it from me, you should. That’s where my corpse got buried. Nay! Not buried. Steamrolled by a Crimson minion thirty times my size!”
“You’ve been watching for some time in that sword, Trio, haven’t you?” Alan smirked at him as he commanded Voltair to trod up to the portal. “When have you known us to back down?”
“Hmm. I’d say when you started molding land like clay, silly god-man.”
“Well, that time is over. To Flint!” He galloped through the portal with sword raised, dissipating and reforming in a safe-point in Strangey Town, the very spot where he spawned a long time ago. Braided trees were weighed down by black chains and suffocating in crimson fog.
Hyndole has been here, for sure, letting Ojin smother the poor town.
Alan’s minions stomped through armed and ready before the portal zipped shut.
“The trees are hurt again,” Yogi said. “It is that wretched gargoyle. I smell him.”
“I was thinking the same.” Alan nudged Voltair toward one of the trees. Explosions and cries sounded in the distance, followed by soldier’s shouting formations. The whole realm felt desperate.
“It’s bad, mon. Can’t see nothin’,” one of the trees complained. “Need Mujungo to come down and take care o’ this pest.”
“How long has this been going on?” Alan asked. “Can you sense the amount of forces we’re up against?”
“I know that voice.” The tree gazed around blindly, half in a daze. “Alan. You came!”
This isn’t good. They’re all warped out of their minds.
Boom!
The ground shook beneath their feet, followed by a bright flash in the sky. Alan glared up to all of the clouds pointing toward the town square.
“C’mon!” Alan whipped the reins for Voltair to sprint toward the square. On the way, half-buried frogs shivered in place. The grass frowned and groaned, reminding Alan of what a nightmare this place could be.
Doesn’t matter—Flint’s in danger. This is for him.
As he galloped forward, he spoke into the flat of his dark blade. “Trio, get a communication portal to Junos of Hightower Brack, Madam Mar of Hightower Brack, Lord Osmi of Sharas-da, and Balooma of the Borai. Send them Flint’s message on my behalf.”
Trio’s twitchy face formed with wide eyes. “Demand-y Merchant today, aren’t we? Aren’t we, eh?”
“Trio!” Alan shouted.
“Ahh! Ahh! It will be done. Ahh!” He sunk back into the blade.
Alan gritted his teeth, dodging the wounded bodies on his way to the brick path. Flint’s massive ice wall to his right in the distance nearly toppled from the constant barrage of Ojin’s minions. It was the same tactic as last time: Hyndole inviting the void stampedes to destroy Strangey Town.
“Hiya!” Alan leaned forward as Voltair leapt over a downed tree, landing on the rock path. He ducked tiny star-like essences whizzing all around to echo the chaos.
The town square was on the horizon now, with ranks of Wizards and soldiers in ready position, staring up at something Alan couldn’t yet see.
Was it Shiva again? No, probably something more devastating… something from the crimson fog.
Alan peered back at Hendra, hoping she could contest if the time came.
“Make way!” he called, approaching the blocked streets. “Break rank!”
Once the first Archer noticed Alan, the others quickly parted. He didn’t realize how much power he’d accumulated in his time away until he got closer to the army, sensing their affinities and Titles as far lesser than his own.
“Is Flint alright?” he shouted to one of the Wizards.
“In negotiations at the square!” the Wizard called back, voice fading.
Shield ranks at the forefront weren’t getting out of the way in time, so he got onto Voltair’s saddle and leapt—unsummoning the steed while grasping onto Ria’s talon—then flipped off at the center of the town square.
Boom!
Yogi and friends slammed down at Alan’s heel, ready to combat whatever Strangey Town’s inner circle had gathered for.
A vampiric-looking man in a high-collared robe stood with bloodred eyes staring up at a roof, beside two Archers with highly decorated white-shining bows. The same armorer he remembered on the first day stood beside the pink-nosed Dreamcatcher. Flint was among them…
Thank God.
“Flint!”
“Alan, you heeded my call.” He smiled sadly. “Aha. A dark time indeed.” He turned back to what everyone was looking at, and it was then that Alan’s heart sunk into his belly.
Farante De Sol—the swashbuckler Bladesman who tried to drown him in a swamp—had returned, and who was beside him? None other than Lucius himself.
“Ah. A reunion.” Farante held someone by the neck, dangling him in front of the crowd. After a closer look, Alan realized it was Liustad, the Archer who accused Alan of being a god scout a while back.
“Quick, Merchant, run, before the Borai gets you.” Farante cackled, then turned serious. “I believe you have something that belongs to me.” He eyed the sword in Alan’s hand, but Alan’s eyes were only on Lucius.
“Here you are again, brother, denouncing our pact made in this very square,” Alan said, guilting Lucius.
“He’s beyond reproach, Alan,” Flint said glumly, holding his staff firmly in both hands.
Boom!
Flint’s defenses shook in the distance, rattling the square like an earthquake. Soldiers continued to be carried into the healing quarters. Wizards in the backdrop channeled spells ready to be launched on a whim. And the clouds… Mujungo’s fury was evident in their faces.
Woosh!
Hyndole stole the attention, holding who appeared to be a Strangey Town general by the mesh of her armor as he flew onto an adjacent building. “Alan Right. I see by those orbiting pearls that the messages are true—that our newest citizen, the former prince of Cerrain, brings valid intelligence. The Forbidden Merchant has passed on.”
“Your prince helped me kill him,” Alan said, glaring hard at Lucius, who remained deadpan. “Sorry I didn’t die so easily.”
“I feared it would be this way.” Hyndole pulled hard on his restrained victim’s arms.
“Are you foul beasts of Jaeger truly ready to start a war?” The vampiric man arced an eyebrow. “We of Strangey Town have been plotting for ages, knowing this day would come.”
Hyndole laughed low and deep. “Then how, I wonder, am I holding the famed Rishaya Blanch in my grasp? And my Bladesman holds Liustad the traitor, still a citizen of your realm. Both plucked from Ojin.”
“They brought them back to Strangey Town, precisely to start this war,” Alan said to Flint. “There’s no other reason.”
“That’s why we all shake under our robes and armor, good Alan. We’ve been plotting our defenses for as long as I can remember, but what chance do we truly stand against a conqueror?”
“We’ll find out together.” Alan clenched his fist tightly around the hilt of his black blade. He then noticed a drip of sweat rolling down Flint’s temple.
“I am afraid there is not much fight left.”
Alan furrowed his brow.
“I’ve been holding those walls for two straight days, doing my best to protect.”
“Why didn’t you call sooner?” Alan grew worried.
“Our messages have been intercepted by Jaeger’s Wizards. You’ve come to Strangey Town’s last stand against the void minions. And in our breaking end, they intend to declare war and finish us off.”
Alan’s blood boiled. The sweat in his palms and life in his veins ran hot, emanating Black Saro from his skin through his armor.
More of Jaeger’s warriors scaled the roofs of the town square, forcing the Archers’ aim to divide in fear.
“Lucius!” Alan called. “Don’t turn your back on us!”
“Hah! It’s too late for that.” Farante scowled, squeezing Liustad’s neck tighter. “He and I have an agreement. The Pegs will be shared. And as for him.” He shook Liustad like he was a puppet. “You should be thanking me for apprehending such a despicable creature. He’d been scouting for Novora this whole time. Political little snake he is. A counterfeit, as you called him. Now behold.” Farante drew his light blade, causing everyone around Alan to stiffen.
“Think about what you’re doing!” Flint yelled. “You would disrupt the entire way of things, like the last war of the nine realms! Recall the mayhem! It is not worth the land you think you’ll gain. Ojin will punish you for generations to come.”
Farante held the blade to Liustad’s neck, cackling to himself. “Hear me, Jaeger, god of Hozzod. It begins!”
Fsssst!
In a moment of tense silence, Alan watched on as Lucius stabbed Farante through the heart and yanked his pendant from his neck.
“If there is a war this day, it won’t be started by you.” Lucius removed the blade, grabbed Liustad, and kicked Farante off the roof, blood trailing from his chest.
Everyone watched on dumbly as the body lay sprawled with Black Saro sizzling out of it.
“Whose side is Lucius on?” Alan said.
Flint could only scowl in response.
“An unreliable prince.” Hyndole scowled. “The war will begin, as decreed by Jaeger himself.” Hyndole spread his gargantuan wings and pulled his captive by the ponytail, exposing her neck. “Behold. The start of the last war!”
Fsst!
He clawed her neck open and snapped it for good measure, creating a dark thunderous cloud that formed over all of Strangey Town. The trees groaned in the distance, and bells donged all around.
The second body to fall was of Strangey Town descent: blood spilt to disrupt an age-old treaty.
“Now we see whose god will rule.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Dark portals opened all around the town square, prompting the inner circle into action.
“Wizards, close them, now!” Flint circled his staff and jutted it forward, sending a bolt that literally froze the interdimensional door shut.
Alan eyed Lucius running down the buildings, swiping ethereal chain spells from other casters off of him. “Hendra, stop Hyndole. Everyone else, protect Flint.” He held up his feather and grabbed Ria’s talon a second later.
Woosh!
He used the gryphon’s momentum like a pole vault, swinging free to drop down on the roof, blocking Lucius’ path.
“Alan.” Lucius flexed his hand, creating molten pools all around the roof. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“The walls are breaking!” Flint called from the cul-de-sac below.
Alan exchanged his Soul Collector for Blood-Vision Edge and swapped his Title to Forbidden. His cloak flapped from the immense power emanating from the switch, pearls rotating faster around him. “You’re giving those Pegs back, Lucius. You went about it all wrong… and you put me in the middle.”
Lucius smirked and drew his ornate white blade that contrasted with his black armor. “So be it.” He disappeared into a shade, swimming through the terrain in his dark dimension.
Alan closed his eyes, recalling his endless nights of training against all of Afarus’ Saro, most of all Orange and Black. He took a swift step forward and whipped his arm down like grabbing a fish in a lake.
Gotcha.
He pressed White Saro through his fingertips to solidify the shade and force him back to reality, then whipped him overhead to the roof.
Bang!
Lucius slammed down back-first, sending clay shingles cracking out of place. Alan flipped his staff ostentatiously as his old friend kicked up to his feet in shock. Spells flew overhead as the world rumbled.
“You’ve changed.” Lucius melted the White Saro to mist.
“For the better, I hope.” Alan smirked, then turned serious. “Give the Pegs back and turn your skills to Strangey Town’s aid. That’s the only way this ends well.”
“Demanding, too. Perhaps there’s royalty lineage in you somewhere.” Lucius switched the position of his blade so it lined his forearm and burst forward, skating through shade form and materializing behind Alan.
Clang!
Alan whipped his south blade overhead to meet Lucius’ strike, spun, and swung down hard to hit Lucius’ gauntlet, wasting no time commanding his yellow pearl outward, forming it into the essence of Gregorian’s previous bow-wielder.
Fshew! Fhsew!
Two Yellow Saro shackles latched onto Lucius’ blade-hand mid-swing, giving Alan the opening to stab. So he did.
Steam hissed everywhere.
Lucius coughed and, gripping the hilt, pulled the blade out himself, letting Alan yank it back. “No hesitation…”
Alan gritted his teeth and slashed again, causing more steam to hiss as Lucius stumbled back. “You killed gryphons. Set fire to a realm for your own gain. You betrayed us!” He leapt forward, threw an ice bolt with one hand, and thrust again with the other.
Lucius rolled out of the way holding his stomach, reinforcing his wounds with beating Black Saro dripping from his shoulders. “One day when you learn to care for something as much as I do, you’ll understand why.”
Lucius dashed to the first hilt sticking up from a molten pool and flung six daggers at Alan before disappearing to the next.
Cling! Clang! Whoosh!
Alan side-flipped out of harm’s way, finding his footing an instant before a white blade rushed to stab him.
Clang!
He knocked it away, backpedaling as he shifted to block the next barrage. A quick switch to his Centurion Title bolstered his defenses. Swinging the northern blade overhead, then jumping a sweep kick, and finally turning his shoulder to absorb Lucius’ dropkick felt rapid even with Red Saro pumping through him. The prince was a force to be reckoned with… just like Alan remembered.
Lucius backflipped and blew a cone of fire in Alan’s face, which he waved away with a hand of cool White Saro mist. But Lucius charged through the fire with a molten spear, in position to kill.
“Hrah!” Alan wedged his weapon diagonally down to stop the thrust and whipped the bow artfully to untangle them and send Lucius rotating a three-sixty in the other direction.
The back and forth went on for a full minute, reminding Alan of their time training together in the nights, only this time there was no holding back… and Alan was no longer his novice.
Alan sent a Yellow Saro blast to sizzle Lucius’ armor, then puffed his chest to absorb a blow with his void breastplate before kicking the prince back.
The world deteriorated around him—Flint’s high ice walls collapsed every which direction. The river behind the square rumbled into waves.
“You’ve grown strong, Alan.” Lucius got to his feet.
“Give yourself up, and I’ll do what I can to work with you,” Alan said. “There’s bigger things than us at play right now. Put this aside!”
“We’re beyond the point of negotiation, I’m afraid.” Lucius painted a flaming star with his finger, which lingered in the air. “This pain I suppress is nothing compared to what I live with. Goodbye, old friend.”
Lucius grasped the star and let it devolve into a breath of flame that traveled down his Black Saro armor, repairing it. Alan could tell he was converting all his suppressed pain into power—anger, hate, and remorse—transforming it into Black Saro, so he charged to stop him.
Chrttt!
Lucius disarmed Alan in a flash, his eyes aglow with a mix of Black and Orange: hate and fuel. He swung into a tornado of strikes, forcing Alan to pull his dark blade and suffer whatever he couldn’t block.
Fsst!
Fsst!
Fsst!
Each slice hurt more than the last before a headbutt found Alan’s nose.
Half-blind from the hard hit, he pressed a Green Saro palm against his own face and sidestepped the next thrust, returning a kick to create some distance.
Vssgsh!
A Doomsayer from the balcony below sent a curse with clacking teeth to whip its tongue around Lucius’ leg. Then another.
“Fools!” Lucius growled, straining to finish Alan.
It was too late—he had fully recovered.
“Even your own see how far you’ve fallen,” Alan said and sadly flicked a pearl to expand around Lucius’ hand, unleashing the essence of the general who thought he’d gained a powerful gauntlet… the one who was crippled by it. “Detain him.”
The essence morphed into an echo of that gauntlet, squeezing tight around Lucius’ arm and causing him to yell in pain.
Alan turned away as two Wizards floated atop the roof. He winced, unable to deal with the cries of an old friend. Alan wasn’t all bad as the frogs had warned. He still had a heart, even for his enemies. With a wave of his hand, he dismissed the pearl essence and made way for the Wizards to detain Lucius, then leapt into the fray on the ground floor.
“War protocols!” Flint lifted his staff. “To me, my Wizards! Defend the spawn of god!”
A singular bolt of lightning struck down from the clouds, twirling in place as some ungodly power accumulated behind Flint.
“Mujungo descends.” A Wizard stood with his back to the lightning, sending flaming spheres at Jaeger’s warriors jumping to stop them.
Alan summoned sands of Beige Saro that caught two Black Saro warriors mid-jump, then hurled them spinning in a tornado in the other direction.
“My defenses are down.” Flint keeled forward as his last ice wall tumbled. “The stampede is imminent.”
“What the hell’s happening behind us?” Alan called, shoulder-to-shoulder with Flint.
“Mujungo is channeling into existence. We must hold until he spawns. We must, Alan!”
More dark portals opened around them, letting in heavily armored cavalry to crush their defenses. To his left, Hendra’s hammer clashed against Hyndole’s dark wing—which he flapped open to send her stumbling off balance, swiping a Red Saro plasma projectile that crashed into her second face.
Alan mentally commanded Gardstrife to charge Hyndole, then held up his feather to get a bird’s eye view of the incoming onslaught.
Kaw!
He grabbed Ria’s talon and flipped himself onto her back, taking flight.
“How long?” Flint shouted.
Alan couldn’t believe his eyes. Trees fell like twigs, multi-colored sand flew into the sky, and the Fog of War grew ever closer, all from bulky-legged beasts screeching their void-ly cries. “Two, maybe three minutes!” Alan shouted back, pulling on Ria to drop him back into battle.
“Argh!”
A friendly Wizard guarding the lightning was stabbed brutally through the chest by a black-toothed warrior, receiving Alan’s blade in return.
Fshnk!
He sliced open the warrior’s chest, opened a molten hole that the warrior stumbled into, and spun into a back kick of White Saro, heel to face. His enemy flipped onto his back, unconscious, freeing Alan to shoot a helix of Green Saro around the Wizard… but it was too late. His eyes were already whitened with death.
He scoffed and took the Wizard’s place defending the lightning. He could feel the electric energy making his neck hair stand on end.
“Hear me, friends, allies!” Flint screamed desperately into a portal.
“It’s no use,” Hyndole bellowed. “Soon Strangey Town will be absorbed into Hozzod. And we will gain all of your clairvoyance.”
Is that what he’s after? The goddamn frogs?
“Ahh!” A friendly soldier flew dangerously close past Alan’s head, crashing hard into a building and folding off like a flattened piece of paper.
Jaeger’s dark spell casters marched with thick black staves paired with deep purple void, lifting soldiers right out of their ranks and impaling them on purple void spikes. A whole row of them shouted in horror, further demoralizing the inner circle.
Vshhz!
A friendly portal opened near Flint, and out came a determined Neesha with tongues of soothing Saro squiggling from her fingertips, latching around the mortal wounds of dying soldiers.
Gregorian rolled out next, unleashing a flurry of arrows against the dark-Wizard line—forcing them to recoil their void spikes and drop the soldiers.
“Yes!” Flint cheered. “Communications are opening!”
“Allies!” Alan shouted. “Defend the square!” his voice echoed into his blade held high, and out from it shot portals of his own: massive ones.
“Your messages have been heard! We are with you, Alan!” Elkire’s voice boomed as he soared out on his gryphon, impaling a Wizard on his first fly through.
The others of the Legion “Hooed!” while sending spell and whip at their enemies—offering a glimmer of hope.
“Hold!” Flint yelled, throwing up ice blocks to thwart charging warriors so Alan could stab them the second they were knocked down.
Hyndole whacked the Hendra out of his way and unfurled his wings, letting out a cloud of crimson fog, inviting more monstrosities into Strangey Town.
A horned beast with eyes on its chin and a wing wrapped around its face reared its ugly head, charging up some kind of beam from the black depths of its mouth.
“Noble Alan!” Balooma called. “Yogi, my son! We are here!”
A stampede of their own charged the budding Crimson minion. Lord Osmi and his Mistborn bellowed through the next gateway. Even Madam Mar flung spells from her high tower, launching boulders through the portal that rolled through the incoming enemy forces. Everyone Alan called upon came, lighting a hearth in his heart that wouldn’t allow him to summon Black Saro if he wanted.
This was the first time he truly felt it, blessed Yellow overwhelming all other colors. His Soul Collector suddenly rimmed with a golden flame, immense power of redemption flowing through it. There was no other option but for it to come out, so Alan jutted it to the sky and unleashed everything he felt.
The flame shot outward like an exploding star, latching onto all of Alan’s minions—enhancing their strength and calling for all the souls to exit at once.
Afarus yanked Alan. “Him. He is the one who brings chaos. We take Hyndole down now. Together. Like we practiced.”
Alan’s vision focused on Hyndole tearing down an army of Stalkers by the dozen. “Right.”
They both lock-stepped their swords in unison, marking their crescent paths with a line of Yellow Saro.
“Hraa!”
They both disappeared, cross-slashing Hyndole in unison. The strike lingered near Hyndole’s chest like one of Gardstrife’s fissures, and Afarus reduced to a ball of essence filtering back into Alan’s blade.
Alan turned to see Hyndole smirking right at him.
“I am hand to a god.” Hyndole laughed, then groaned when the fissure spilled over his hardened frame, cracking it from his chest.
“And I’m just a Merchant.” Alan winked when his Hendra came roaring with her long-stemmed hammer and cracked the gargoyle in the back, sending him flying.
“Alan!” Neesha’s voice sent a shiver down his spine.
The inner circle was being overwhelmed.
Shit. I shouldn’t have left.
He dashed back as fast as he could.
A dark-robed man with a scythe lunged for Neesha as she reached to heal Flint, the circle defending Mujungo nearly overrun.
No.
Alan’s anger took over once more, pairing it with the blessed Yellow flames heating his body, coating it a third time with instinctive Red. His eyes glowed: showing the world in slow motion, his enemy mid-swing to cleave Neesha in half.
No!
In a fit of desperation, he commanded Void Saro around the Stalker’s arms and with a twist of his wrist forced the enemy to miss Neesha and dig his scythe into himself.
Alan didn’t stop there. He slid into Neesha and sliced the Stalker’s throat for good measure, whisking her to safety.
They both shared a moment amidst the chaos, out of breath.
“I missed the stupid Merchant I could never trust.” She smirked at him, eyes leaking with Green Saro.
He laughed into a frown, the looming darkness promising a painful end. “Missed you too, lady. Hope you found all those answers you were looking for.”
They stared into each other’s eyes, scanning expressions in this eternal moment.
“Incoming!” Flint yelled.
“Behold.” Hyndole spread his wings and slowly took flight behind an endless mob of hellish minions that stretched as far and as long as the eye could see. “Mujungo’s reckoning.”
Figro jumped in front of the inner circle and slammed down his massive shield. “I will not fail again.” He pressed his shoulder behind it and braced.
Zzt! Chrzzt!
The lightning bolt whirled at Alan’s back. Something was happening.
Boom!
The crash into Figro shook the realm. He shoved back as best he could and dug his shield again, bellowing his strain.
Boom!
He shoved back a third time, and Alan switched to God Merchant while launching every bit of Saro he could muster to buff him. The ornate shield extended into a wall of rock surrounding the town square. Soldiers leapt to get on the right side, a few trapped screaming when they didn’t make it.
Boom!
Gray Saro rock cracked as soon as it was formed. It was no use. The beasts were too strong and too many.
“Hold!” Alan yelled, his voice hoarse. “We’re almost there, Figro. Hold!”
All of the battered Wizards and warriors turned to the angry stream of lightning pulsing at their backs.
Crrek!
The walls came down and Figro toppled.
Shit! Alan re-coined the rock minion before he was trampled to pieces and stuffed him into his bag.
Here they come.
Alan pushed Neesha protectively behind him, glancing at Flint stuck on one knee. Everyone’s faces were streaked with spell residue and dirt. The town was a ruined mess, and Hyndole laughed above them as the screeching void minions leapt in to finish the job.
“It has been an honor to know you, Alan Right.” Flint balanced on his staff to get back to his feet. “The frogs told the truth when they said you were great.”
“You’re a true friend, Flint. I have no regrets in my second life. And that’s largely thanks to you.”
“May we head to our third with grace.” Flint smiled at the hell coming to tear them apart.
Alan was depleted, along with everyone else. Still, he would take out as many as he could before his last breath, because… screw Jaeger.
“Hrraa!” Alan bellowed his final war cry, when—
Zzzt! Chrrzt!
The lightning bolt finally cracked behind them.
“Aho me! Me!” A boy with an oversized multi-colored headdress sizzled with a wide smile on his face. Then his expression turned demonically serious. “Me!” He extended his skinny arms outward, creating a horizontal purple-fog portal that streaked through the realm like a rip in space, followed by a vacuum that sucked the entire stampede into it.
“Holy shit.” Alan held onto Flint’s and Neesha’s arms as the whole sky darkened.
“Mujungo returns!” Flint praised.
The god flipped over the citizens protecting him, zipped his void portal shut once all the purple minions were sent home and laughed at the ten thousand strong assimilating through Jaerger’s black portals.
“I see. Wow.” Mujungo spread his arms. “Jaeger mooshy-boy, are you watching? Hm?” Mujungo did jumping jacks for attention. “Do you see? Your army failed against my lovely Strangey citizens. Do you know why?” He tilted his head, staring at a silenced Hyndole. “Because we of Strangey Town are a humbled, peaceful people who stick together. Not this—” he waved his hands “—conquering nonsense. Ahahehe.” He twirled in victory.
“Now,” his tone grew terrifyingly serious, thundering through the clouds. “Be gone!”
He flexed his arms, activating the might of a thousand angry clouds descending from the sky, tearing all eyes upward.
“Hahehehe! Run back to your portals! Run! Run!”
Hyndole cursed, expanding his wings and shooting Red Saro lasers into the clouds, which quickly patched up and rushed down harder. All of the wizardly Saro follow-up proved to have the same effect. “Retreat!” he finally called.
“Yes! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!” Mujungo laughed, commanding the clouds to clash into one another, intimidating their enemies to no end. “This is our domain!”
Alan breathed out a sigh of relief. “Can’t stand that god… but I’m happy he came.”
“Aha.” Flint dropped to his backside once Jaeger’s forces retreated back into their portals. “And here I was saying my goodbyes. Feels good to be alive!”