"Character is simply habit long continued."
― Plato
The air screamed, compressed before the Monkey’s staff. It filled the King’s vision, too fast to dodge. His wings curled and joined his arms, forced to take the blow head on. Muscles tore and scales cracked, sheared from his skin as the world blurred.
The Dragon King vomited blood, four of his six limbs reduced to mangled stumps. His vision trembled, a black ring around the edges.
Strong… he’s more than a Semi-Divine…
A mighty thump lifted his body, his dragon’s heart ignited into a pyre. Flesh knitted and grew as his bones snapped into place. Reborn wings lifted him into the air, a breath of fire on his lips. His army of dragon’s joined him, a solar flare of white that replaced the skies.
“Boring…” Monkey twisted his staff in one hand. “This kind of thing only works on children.”
A sea of astral flame fell into his palm, compressed by the spin of his weapon. It rolled like a marble, tossed between his fingers like a toy.
“You lived through five percent,” Monkey wiggled his ears. “You’re a very impressive Semi-Divine, I’d say you’re a half-step Earth Deity!”
The marble of fire positioned itself over Monkey’s pointer finger, thumb pressed to its back. He aimed his fist toward the city, a genuine smile on his face.
“I wonder if your friends are as strong as you are?”
Launched from his grasp like an arrow from a bow, the solid mass of flame raced toward Joan and the others. Light bent at its approach, speed at the border of physics.
The King lurched forward, muscles strained to their fullest. The joints of his wings popped as they pushed aside the air. The attack drew parallel to the King, a beam of light he struggled to catch. His claws extended, close enough to melt his palms. It wasn’t enough.
The marble passed him by, targeted towards his city, his friends. Joan stepped forward, hammer raised to meet the blow. Her inhuman maul struck, form perfect to deflect the attack. An explosion, white light that stole the King's vision, followed by an ungodly force.
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“Gong… gong… gong…”
A bell tolled, three times into the word. Gold rose to defy the white, waves that came on the notes. It tolled again, and again, until the King could see once more. Arthur stood, sword bared to the sky, his armour polished gold. He stepped forward, weapon aimed at the curious Monkey
“Not all of us are as strong as the King of Dragons,” Arthur laughed, a smirk on his lips. “But some of us boast a higher power than he!”
Excalibur tolled, a wave of sound that pressed at Monkey like a hurricane. Joan rose from the earth behind him, hammer reduced to a headless pole. Blood ran from the seams of her armour, heavy lines that painted the ground.
“Nice of you to unsheath your sword for once…” She cracked her neck, hands flexed against the remains of her weapon. “Who is this guy?”
“I’m not certain, but…” Arthur glanced up. “He’s a bit of a show off!”
Monkey rode the wind of Excalibur. Flips and spins the tip of the iceberg as he cruised with the current. His face was lit with a child-like smile, joyous despite his deadly attack seconds ago.
“You're also strong, but it’s all that weapon,” Monkey laughed as the winds faded. “That’s not very fair, you shouldn’t rely on outside power!”
“YOU JUST SMASHED ME WITH A CLUB,” The Dragon King gaped at the shameless Monkey. “DON’T LECTURE US ABOUT WEAPONS!”
“I guess,” Monkey frowned at his staff. “But… mine's special!”
“So is mine!”
Arthur raised Excalibur high, its runes lit with holy light. Pure white, alive with forgotten power. He slashed a beam that hunted Monkey’s neck, a swift stroke of the sword that covered miles.
“Oh…” Monkey slipped around the blade of light, hand on his chin. “Well, that’s ok then!”
Staff raised like a bat, Monkey charged through the air. Swift steps brought him to Arthur’s face, an honest question for the man.
“But… which one is stronger?”
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“Will Master be alright…” Lyra glanced into the fog, arms filled to burst with grubs. “He’s never had us retreat like this before.”
“Arthur will be fine,” Brull grumbled, his hands occupied with a similar number of the baby ants. “Right now, we’ve got to get the colony to safety.”
“Brull is right,” Speaker charged up with a load of his own. “I have made a dozen trips to your three!”
“You’ve got six legs!” Lyra shook a foot at the ant before it vanished into the mist. “If I was an ant, I could do thirty trips…”
“Then think like an ant!” Speaker charged back, grubs delivered. “Go! Go! GO!”
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“Wake up you miserable cuss!”
Ven shifted sand like a dog, both hands buried to the shoulders as he hunted for Cain’s buried form. The Dragon God remained reclined on the sands, a bubble of snot on her nose that moved with each snore.
“What’s with these old, crusty beings… they sleep away time like it’s valueless!”
By his count, the food market would close in forty minutes. He had no time for Cain’s games. His hands shifted to a new location, a fresh dig with similar results.
“CAIN, IF YOU DON’T HURRY UP I’LL HEAD BACK THROUGH THE GATE!”
Dante probably had a way back to the Relic World, Ven would trade his ring to be free to make his own choices. He just wanted to cruise around, explore the world a bit.
“Fine, you ungrateful bastard!” Cain surfaced, half a mile away. “Let’s go, but if this food isn’t as tasty as you’ve let on…”
“It’s the best!” Ven nodded as he hucked a handful of sand at the goddess. “Wake up Dragon God, we’re about to head home!”
“Hey,” The Goddess snorted. “This is how you treat a lady? I’ve got sand in my hair!”
“You don’t have any hair…” Ven peered at her spotless scales. “Now come on, I’ll buy you dinner!”