After another five minutes of navigating the swampy terrain, we came to an island with solid ground. There I found The Boys within a wide ring of earth that had been flattened and cleared of vegetation. Another hydra with four heads stood across from him, with a third hydra with six heads standing outside the ring. My [Deeds] Skill web gave me many boons to understanding hydras on account of me being the parent to The Boys and a hydra-slayer myself. The intuition that those vein of Skills provided was typically on an as-needed basis. Ergo, I knew more about hydras when that need for knowledge became relevant.
I knew The Boys were ‘male’ inasmuch as hydras have a gender or sex. The Four-Heads was likewise male, with Six-Heads being female. The Boys and and Four-Heads were singing at each other rather aggressively as they strutted around the ring. Eventually, they each came to stop on opposite sides. The Boys leaned over and raised one foot as high as their stubby limbs would allow before smashing it down, then repeated the process for their other foot. His opponents did likewise, and soon, all eight heads between them were hunkered down and ready for some kind of fight.
They charged one another, each hydra equal in size, and they collided with a thunderous crash. Heads roared as necks smashed into one another and the main mass of their bodies pushed one another. Oddly, no biting or breath attacks occurred, nor did anything egregiously harmful. They pushed and twisted, each trying to throw the other out of the ring while Six-Heads looked on. None of the hydras seemed to mind us too much, although one head of Six-Heads eyed us and gave us a warning grumble while another sang a wavering tone as it turned in all directions.
The kobolds wasted no time in placing wagers, at least the ones dressed as commoners, while the ninjas and the more martially-themed ones set up a perimeter. I likewise had my Observation and Detection Skills employed to survey the area for hidden predators or opportunists. With no apparent danger and The Boys not in imminent risk of dying, I watched the fight drag out.
The Boys took a few nasty blows as necks were used to cudgel one another, but ultimately, The Boys managed to nimbly sidestep a shove and push their opponent out of the ring. Four-Heads roared in protest, but Six-Heads used two of her heads to roar at him, which sent him packing. Defeated, he wandered out into the marshland and soon disappeared in a pool.
Six-Heads then entered the ring, but this time, neither The Boys or her were antagonistic. They circled one another more playfully, each singing a sweet song to each other as the head with the wavering song ceased her singing to join in with the choir of her sisters. Round and round they circled each other, at times their heads venturing out towards one another to gently stroke each other’s necks.
“Are we about to learn where hydra babies come from?” I looked down into my arms to see It-Has-Pockets watching the spectacle in comfort. She seemed more than content to stay in my arms despite how her sword might make it an unpleasant perch. “I know a mating dance when I see one, since I am a [Dancer] and all. Looks like your Boys have the moves. Oh wow! They are real ladies men!”
We looked on with fascination and horror as each hydra faced one another with bodies pressed close. Six-Heads was bigger, but that did not stop The Boys from joining her in entangling their necks around those of each other as tender nibbling and licking occurred. Some of the bites turned a little more aggressive and drew blood, but nothing too serious. Skull left my shadow to cheer them on, and It-Has-Pockets and Nanu joined in.
Then things took a turn for the worse, or at least as far as they were concerned.
The hydras stepped away from one another. Without hesitation, all but one head of Six-Heads moved towards Aristotle and quickly decapitated him near the base of the neck. In turn, the remaining heads of The Boys likewise decapitated the one head of Six-Heads that did not partake. The remaining heads then devoured the severed heads of the opposite hydra. One head would hold the meal in place while others ripped and tore, each taking turns at holding, feasting, and keeping a lookout.
Skull seemed to approve. It-Has-Pockets covered her open mouth with one hand as she stared in captivated wonder and horror. Nanu had some sort of notebook in hand and was furiously scribbling away. Gambino and Bambina were conspiratorially whispering to each other about the whole thing, so I could probably expect that in a play or as a ritual in that cult of theirs that Alterez leads. The remaining kobolds settled bets with what I am pretty sure are fake coins of brass or bronze.
Strangely, the necks did not grow back temporary heads. Each hydra plopped down on the ground and threaded their necks through each other’s to rest their heads on each other’s backside. After about ten minutes of cuddling, they each rose and stood apart from each other and began singing a new song. As they sang, Six-Heads quickly grew a bump where her necks joined her body, the kind of bump that would someday become a new head. The Boys already had a bump of their own, and from it, a new neck and head burst into existence. Almost immediately following that, Aristotle grew back, as did the severed head of Six-Heads. The full choir of each sang to each other as they waved their heads back and forth. As their song came to a close, Six-Heads turned and walked away into the marshlands.
The Boys, now five instead of four, strutted over to me with a lot of swagger in their stride. The new head looked around curiously at his surroundings with Aristotle enjoying the praise and envy of his brothers. He looked especially smug as the others pestered him with questions.
“Hello, Papa. Aristotle is a real man now. Say hello to Chrysippus, our newest brother,” exclaimed Plato as they approached.
“Hello, Chrysippus,” I greeted as he extended his muzzle down to me so I could pet him.
“Papa is a dragon. Dragons can fly. Therefore, Papa can fly. Will you take us flying with you someday?” asked Chrysippus as he accepted my caress.
“Maybe someday when I am older, for you are heavy and large and I am not fully grown.”
“When fully grown, then maybe flight is possible. Not fully grown, therefore, flight is not possible. I accept this for now.”
“He is still adjusting to being out and about. Give him time to fit in so he stops talking all weird.”
I was about to give some reassurance when a tremendous pressure built up in my head. It did not exactly hurt like a headache, but it was inescapably apparent to me that something was happening. I staggered to the side and clutched my head as I dropped It-Has-Pockets, nearly losing my balance as Skull and Nanu rushed to my side to catch me. It-Has-Pockets deftly recovered with only her feet even touching the ground, and her sword found itself immediately drawn as she began a battle dance to support me. If anything, it made the pressure grow, but removed the discomfort, as if something had been blocking it and now it could continue on.
“What is wrong?” Skull and Nanu both voiced their concern in tandem as The Boys altered between inquisitively sniffing me and keeping lookout.
“I, I don’t…” The pressure built until it burst, and an all-too-familiar voice shouted in my mind as if from a great distance and in distress.
“Imminent danger! Dragon hunters approach. Threat level: deadly.”
The pressure immediately subsided as the voice cried out in despair before being silenced. I immediately withdrew a signal flare from my dimensional storage. The flare was a small stone with a rune on it, and I pressed my thumb into it to activate it before throwing it skyward. This flare was the highest threat level flare I had on me, the one that would bring all available personnel to my location to rescue me from deadly combat.
The stone screamed skyward as it pulsed out waves of mana and bright red and white flashing light. Even this far out from town, they would absolutely be able to see it, and more importantly, feel my personal and authentic mana signature as it radiates outwards.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Hopper and Ribbette, who had been aloof until now and collecting grub, leapt onto the heads of The Boys for a better vantage, just as we had trained. Nanu, upon seeing me launch the flare, immediately transformed into her draconic form, with me following along right after her. The kobolds scattered into the marshlands to secure a wider perimeter and to waylay any hunters. A choir of remaining kobolds began singing and playing instruments to an ominous tune, the kind with words no one understands. I don’t know how that was supposed to help, but I trusted them enough to not be playing games in a crisis.
We were at least four hours away from camp at the pace that we could track The Boys on foot. That meant our fastest fliers were at least 15 minutes away if they were to reinforce us, assuming they were ready to sortie. Other fliers not on standby and with slower means of travel could take well over an hour to muster and arrive. For all practical purposes, help was not coming in a timeframe that mattered. The dragon hunters, which I assumed were out there, would certainly know the flare for what it was and thus were pressed for time to make their move. Whether or not Six-Heads had been a honeypot or merely a unique opportunity remained irrelevant, for we were vulnerable and ripe for the taking.
Nanu would be our primary means of surviving what would come. She was by far the most powerful individual among us when it comes to a fight. The Boys would mostly support with their breath attacks, for a few hunters up close would make short work of them. Hopper could duel a few people at once and Ribbette could keep groups of enemies at bay with her poisons, but I was not optimistic about their usefulness. Dragon hunters would be Platinum Adventurers each and all, and perhaps even a few could be Diamonds. Skull could maybe hold off one such individual, but they would undoubtedly have overwhelming numbers. It-Has-Pockets could tango with a few of them, but I had only seen her spar lighty and never truly go all-out, so she remained a wildcard. Gambino and Bambina were the only kobolds with names, perhaps even literally so, and as such, the only ones that mattered of the lot of them. Neither would die as long as enough of the troupe remained thanks to [Plot Armor], but they couldn’t exactly stop the dragon hunters either. That left me to defend me, for my head was the prize.
I thanked my paranoia that I had a habit of placing my traps anywhere I went. I had a couple dozen already in place around us, but I would need hundreds more to stop the tides of dragon hunters that would swarm me. Nanu and I had discussed tactics and histories of hunts at length, so we could expect no fewer than twoscore hunters. Given my fame and rarity as an Emperor, it could be upwards of fivescore. I felt more inclined to believe the latter, for there was no kill like overkill and I ostensibly had a great number of guards, most of which were now too far away to matter. What few Adventurers that were in the field and in this general area would already be on their way to intercept, but that would still leave my force vastly outnumbered.
We could try to run, but dragon hunters had plenty of individuals that had the right Skills to ground a dragon. Magical nets, vacuums to remove the air beneath my wings, or force fields could stymie my escape. They would have speedsters that could cut me off if I tried to sprint across the ground, their whole objective being to interdict me until the muscle arrived. They would have [Clerics] or other divinely favored individuals that would try to interfere with Skull calling upon divine intervention from her patron god. Their biggest advantage was rushing and overwhelming me with superior numbers, mine in delaying them until help arrived and allowing small groups of them to approach me so I could take them apart piecemeal.
However, these would be experienced and disciplined dragon hunters, not rookies. Even so, they had been most likely waiting for months for an opportunity to strike, the whole time avoiding my scouts, so they had most likely gone without comforts for a long time and were eager to finish the hunt and leave. If Skull’s aura of fear and Ribbette’s poison could keep the bulk at bay, and if the kobolds could encourage select individuals to rush in, we may be able to throw off the coordination of their attack enough to tip the scales in our favor.
Not even half a minute had passed since I launched the flare before the enemy began their assault. The ground shook beneath our feet as horns sounded and drums... yes, drums, in the deep of the marshlands, beat out a fast-tempoed order to attack. From all directions, a smokescreen rose to encircle us and obfuscate our view of their approach. We could not get out, and shadows moved in the darkness of the smoke. We could not get out, so we would stand and fight.
A vanguard of a dozen or so approached from the east. The sun was perhaps two hours from setting, so at least the sun remained at our backs and did not blind us. Those first few, so eager for the hunt, rushed in headless of the danger. Two fell prey to my traps as they predictably leapt from one spot of dry ground to another, but the rest advanced. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle began their breath attacks, scouring the land and the enemy with fire, water, and poison. Dio raised his head to the sky, sucking in all the nearby sunlight, which cast the area around us in the darkness of night. Chrysippus nudged It-Has-Pockets and somehow communicated something to her, for she changed her dance completely. Hopper and Skull stood ready to intercept as Ribbette departed to the rear to lay down poisonous clouds to guard us from getting pinched.
The kobolds sang a welcoming dirge, and although the details were subtle, the enemy advanced with less cohesion than predicted. Some hesitated while others rushed in, almost as if they were taking turns. Nanu began working on a complicated spell that would take time while Skull and Hopper engaged the enemy. Most were cut down in short order, with Hopper mostly waylaying as many as he could while Skull killed them one after the next. In the past, she had made temporary shadows of herself charge forth to deliver an attack, but now, with each kill she made, shadows of her rose from the corpses of the fallen to join her in combat.
Not even a minute had passed before the entirety of the vanguard had been slaughtered, sans one woman who clung to life. Skull grabbed her behind the neck and hoisted her broken body off the ground. The woman screamed bloody murder, but then her scream turned to terror and pain. The second wave at the edge of the smokescreen faltered and observed as Skull invoked some Dark ritual of her god. Skull’s hand passed into the woman from behind all the way to the elbow as if the woman were not even there. Then with a mighty tug, Skull ripped out the woman’s skull, spine, and ribs as if her flesh and clothes were not there. The woman’s screaming stopped, at least in body as the fleshy heap of it collapsed. Skull dropped the corpse, but the skull of the woman continued to scream and wail like a banshee.
In horror, the onlookers observed the grotesque rearrangement of the dead woman’s spine and ribs. The spine rearranged itself like a tiara floating above the skull, the ribs forming a headdress with their curve going backwards. Dark flames of shadow and pain burned in the skull’s eyes, and its mouth, always open and constantly screaming without pausing to draw breath, unleashed a foul shadow that pooled upon the ground wherever it passed. Skull sent the monstrosity forward, and it hovered across the earth and descended upon the attackers, always remaining just out of reach as it continued to scream at them.
The enemy advance faltered, with many of our adversaries trembling where they stood in hesitation. Those that froze soon found themselves engulfed in flame, crushed by high pressure bursts of water, or convulsing and collapsing in a heap as The Boys assaulted them with breath attacks. Platinum Adventurers tend to have the Skills to be hardier than most folk, but that offers them little benefit when they don’t use them and instead stand still to take lethal attacks head on. For each that died, two more replaced them as the more stalwart individuals pressed the attack.
Three minutes into the attack, my claws took flesh and broke bone as my assailants made their way to me. My regeneration Skills healed what wounds they inflicted as I returned their violence in kind with extreme prejudice. They avoided Skull as best they could, for none wanted to fight her, until one individual in particular met her head on and held his own quite well. Nanu continued working on some Ability that required time to channel, although she could still lash out as needed to defend herself.
Without their active help, I continued to protect myself. Always moving, always laying down more traps, and continuing the cycle of one element after another in my attacks without repetition until I ran out of elements. Each Ability consumed mana, the precious resource that enabled magic and indeed the use of active Skills, but each continuation of the combo empowered the next Skill. I would need to consume the combo in its entirety before I repeated the pattern, creating an extra-powerful attack that would take out their heavy hitters.
Despite the devastation and loss, they pressed onwards, seemingly heedless of the loss of life around them, as if driven to a frenzy. However, the losses were not so one-sided. A spear had lodged itself in my side, one with powerful enchantments that stubbornly resisted it being dislodged and hampered my regeneration. The Boys had lost a head already, with Plato, their leader, being the first to fall, which did not bode well. More disconcerting was the fact that no head grew back to replace him, and I knew from my hydra-related [Deed] Skills that the mating process was not to blame. If they brought along weapons that specifically were anathema to dragons, odds were they had some for my pet hydra.
I repositioned to offer them support, scraping off the unlucky few who clambered over my precious Boys in their despicable attempts to strike at the core of their body. With bloody vengeance, I ripped and tore, with claws rending and teeth gnashing as I unburdened the guilty from their worldly concerns. Anger welled within me as a cool rage simmered beneath the surface of my control. Attacking me was one thing, but attacking those I care about was another matter entirely, one that garnered no mercy from me.
Five minutes in, and The Boys had lost all but two heads, with Aristotle and Chrysippus being the only two left. Skull had been sent sailing into the marsh, and our fate appeared grim. I knew not if we could hold the line until help arrived.