Tafel looked around, her gaze landing on Vur. He was polymorphing himself into a dragon while walking away from Gronion. His body grew larger than the beetle, and he fell forward onto his arms, scales growing on his skin as his fingers turned into toes with wicked claws. He walked over to the pile of roasted bugs somehow centered around the dragons, phoenixes, and Oebu Sin swarm. It wasn’t a high pile, but it was deep, the endless corpses having filled up the expansive tunnel system underneath the ground.

Mary tugged on Tafel’s arm, drawing the demon’s attention. “You’re learning how to become a blacksmith, right?” the armored woman asked. “Can you help me make something?”

Tafel blinked. “Oh, sure,” she said, her eyes brightening up. “What do you need help with?”

Mary held up the orichalcum box. “I want to make this into a sheath.”

The box thumped heavily, but it didn’t budge, causing Tafel to raise an eyebrow. “You mean the box, right?” the demon asked. She knew how to shape metals thanks to the blacksmiths, but she wasn’t quite sure how she’d make something out of two severed hands.

“Both,” Mary said.

Tafel blinked. “Both?”

Mary nodded. “When I put away my sword, I want to stab through the two hands,” she said, causing the box to thump some more. She frowned and gave it a shake until the thumping ceased.

Tafel’s brow furrowed. Although it didn’t seem too difficult to trap the hands such that they’d be impaled every time Mary sheathed her sword, it was a bit … cruel? Sadistic? “I suppose I could if it’s for you.”

“Great,” Mary said and beamed. “It’ll be perfect for my innate ability; whenever I put my sword away, I’ll heal thanks to the life force in these hands.” She looked down at the box with a smile on her face like a girl looking at the puppy of her dreams.

“Oh.” Tafel blinked and smiled as well. The hands were simply hands, not living people. They were destructive hands too, and it’d be better for everyone involved if the hands were sealed away. Even if it were a bit cruel to stab and slice them repeatedly, wasn’t it better than being destroyed completely? Not dying was already a good outcome for the hands. “I’ll try to make it look like your current sheath, but it’s….”

“It’s … what?” Mary asked a bit after Tafel paused.

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“I wonder if Diamant can help me shape the orichalcum,” Tafel said, squinting as she turned her head towards Vur. She watched as he picked up two roasted bugs with one grab of his paw. His eyes narrowed, and Tafel was pretty sure Vur stared straight at Gronion and its underlings on purpose as he stuffed the two roasted snacks into his mouth, grating, crunching sounds echoing out as he chewed. Then, the ocean-blue dragon swept its gaze over the silent dragons and phoenixes.

Vur swallowed, an audible gulp ringing out through the region. “This is a barbeque,” Vur said and licked his lips. “Eat.” He scooped and flicked the pile of bugs with his paws, flinging roasted bugs towards the magical beasts. “Chat. Laugh. Be happy.” Vur stopped flicking the bugs and sat back on his haunches before licking the seasoning off of his right paw. His eyes narrowed as he glared at the dragons and phoenixes; none of them had moved yet. “Or else.”

Volearden was the first to make a move. He stood up, grabbed two roasted bugs, and crammed them into a nearby yellow dragon’s mouth. Fern’s eyes widened as he struggled, but Volearden overpowered the yellow dragon, forcing him to eat the bugs. Fern crunched apart the bugs and glared at Volearden. “What’s the big idea?” the yellow dragon asked.

“You heard the new monarch,” Volearden said. “Eat, chat, laugh, and be happy.” His eyes narrowed, and his voice lowered as he whispered, “Don’t forget to give him a title.”

Malvina spread her wings, sending a plume of phoenix flames flying into the sky. The seemingly dormant insects all raised their heads at the same time, turning to look in the direction of the explosion. Their mechanical action caused chills to run down Malvina’s spine, and she shuddered before clearing her throat. “You heard the big dragon,” Malvina said. “We’re here to eat away our differences, and if anyone is unhappy with how things turned out, you can fight Vur again.”

“Collective punishment if someone fights Vur,” Stella said, poking her head out of Vur’s snout.

“If someone tries to stand up to Vur now, I will dedicate my life to making that individual’s existence as miserable as possible until they or I pass on,” one phoenix said. “I am very persistent. Don’t test me.”

“How about a food fight?” Fern asked as he wiped his face with the back of his paw. He picked up a bug and bounced it up and down on his paw. “We can’t hurt each other, but a food fight is just a playful game, right?” He looked towards Volearden before shifting his gaze onto Vur. “As the Tyrant of the Towers, shouldn’t you make dragons and phoenixes compete for your pleasure?”

Vur tilted his head. According to the books he read, some tyrants did do that. They erected great arenas for contenders to fight trapped beasts or dangerous criminals. “No,” Vur said and shook his head. “That stuff is boring.”

Fern blinked. Considering how Vur had taken the dragons and phoenixes down by himself, it was no wonder he wasn’t interested in watching the two factions fight against one another.

Vur frowned, and Tafel opened a portal to walk on top of his head. “What’s wrong?” the demon asked, the glow on her horns dissipating as the portal disappeared, leaving Mary standing with her orichalcum box on the ground.

“There’s a lot of dragons here,” Vur said. “Prika would be happy.”

Tafel blinked before grinning as she scanned the crowd of dragons. Surely, Prika could finally find a mate. “Let’s open the way home to Erde.”