Chapter 1: Prologue: Azeth, The Chaos Dragon
A horde of goblins, their scarlet skin bearing the gruesome aftermath of a recent bloodbath, found themselves confined within a mystical barrier, trapping them in a circle of despair.
Outside the ethereal enclosure stood a cadre of men, donned in formidable silver armor, brandishing gleaming longswords. Some wielded spears with a mastery that set them apart.
The goblins whimpered and pleaded, their desperate cries for mercy echoing through the air. Yet, like merciless hunters, the human soldiers took measured strides into the circle. Powerless and broken, the goblins awaited their inevitable demise. Their sharp nails torn, canines blunted, bodies fatigued, and injuries marring them, resistance was futile.
Poised to commence the slaughter, a soldier raised his sword. An evil grin crept across his face, relishing the joy 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…
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.
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The soldier 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 beings 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 – a blood fountain comprised of 300 heads!
"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 claimed his life.
The little dragon ascended the throne, pushing the lifeless prince aside. 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.
The goblins, overwhelmed by fear, gratitude, and respect, bowed down in unison. After all, one of the most feared beings of the forest was now in front of them.
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.