My great thanks toTodaBruh, who kindly chose to use some of his free time to be my beta reader!
Glyu-Uno, homeworld of the Dragon species, City of Warden's Keep.
"My Lord! The demons… They're launching an all-out attack on all fronts!"
"I can see that." Neltharion said with grim anticipation as he looked over the holographic map of his burning capital city, easily taking in the sight of the countless red icons fighting against green ones. "It appears as if the forces of the Abyss have finally run out of patience with us all."
"It was only a matter of time, especially after our dragonflights' arrival." pointed out Alexstrasza, Malygos nodding in agreement.
"True. But it also means that the final battle of this war is starting. I doubt the demons are going to hold anything back on this one." Neltharion mused.
"Then let us win this, once and for all!" declared Malygos. "The remaining dragonflights are going to arrive soon, and then we can focus our full might upon the demons! Whatever plans the Abyss might have, I believe that, together, we can overcome them! No, wewillovercome them!"
Alexstrasza chuckled. "A confident affirmation. But I do agree."
Her expression hardened, her blood red eyes narrowing at the icons representing the demons and cultists' forces spread out across the fortress-capital of the Black Dragonflight.
"For too long have our people lived in fear of tomorrow. For too long have we all feared the dangers of the Abyss! Well, no more! At long last, we can kick them out of our world, ensuring the lasting prosperity of our people! Today, we shall make a stand that will echo across Eternity, as we claim our final victory over demon-kind!" she passionately declared, looking every inch the dragon queen that she was.
Neltharion stared at the map, remembering the unnatural, horrific taint of the Abyss trying its best to claw its way into his mind and soul, remembering the hate burning in his heart towards all things.
That hate still burned… but now it was directed. It had focus, and his hate of the Abyss was no longer being twisted by the corruption that sought to make him into the very same kind of monster he had sworn to fight against.
He clenched his right fist, feeling the soothing feeling of his new God's blessing upon his soul, the divine power almost glowing in his mind's eye with eagerness to go out there andfight.
"Then, it is time to answer the demons in kind."
He tapped a few things on the holographic keyboard, and then smiled, his eyes glowing with power and determination as he opened a comm channel to all of his soldiers.
He could feel Al Azif's presence in the back of his mind, offering support and sharing his eagerness for the battle to come.
"To all units: The time has come. The final battle is at hand. I have only one order to give you all: forward, forward, forward! For victory, for peace, for freedom from the Abyss, for the Dragonflights! To victory, let us not stop charging until the very last demon has been sent back to the pits they had crawled out of!"
"Charge!"
"Forward! For the dragonflights!"
"Death to the Abyss!"
Lieutenant Schwarz roared as he and his troops rushed out of the ruined building they had been in, joined in by legions of other soldiers on the ground, and countless dragons flying above him as they charged towards the enemy lines.
Which was made much easier by the fact that said enemies were charging right back at them, roaring their own war cries and throwing insults towards the loyalists.
Artillery continued to pound both sides of the battlefield, throwing men and demons alike into the air in bloody chunks of meat, while in the air a vicious fight began between aircrafts, dragons and flying demons.
Such was the brutality of the battle in the sky that it rained corpses and blood down upon those fighting below, but then again nobody so much as batted an eye at this point. After the long, exhausting days of battle that have marked this war where similar events happened, both sides had grown used to keeping an eye out for falling corpses and aircrafts.
And of course, there also were the mages and priests, throwing spells and calling upon divine or unholy powers alike to summon extra-dimensional allies, blast forth massive tornadoes of fire, unleash barrages of earth spikes, or more.
It was pure, utter chaos, as fighters on both sides rushed forward with little concern for their lives, only the pure, focused intent to kill the enemy driving them forth.
Tanks fired explosive shells upon each other, magical defenses activating each time one of them was hit unless the shell actually broke through those shields, in which case massive explosions resulted from the tanks detonating from magically empowered shells being thrown back and forth.
There was no mercy shown by either side, and it mattered little whether the ones killing or dying were men, women, young or old.
Crazed female cultists in little more than rags holding bloody knives and wearing unholy symbols of the Abyss fought hardened family men having chosen to defend home and loved ones on the front, even if it might cost them their lives. Children driven mad by abyssal corruption, the twisted promises of demonkind and the simple horrors of war fought with insane bloodlust against hardened soldiers who knew better than to show any of these lost souls mercy, resulting in horrific scenes of children being burned alive, stabbed, or shot without mercy.
Their screams mixed with all the others dying mortals and demons on the battlefield, but once again no one was there to weep for them. Such was the nature of war, where innocence died first… followed by everything else.
Lieutenant Schwarz kept running, barking orders and making sure to take cover as much as possible while lasers, explosives and spells flew in the air around him. His eyes settled on a screaming cultist, the blood-soaked madwoman screaming praises towards Lashmashtu while surrounded by several mutated, inhuman…thingsthat would give eldritch beings a run for their money in terms of both number of tentacles and eyes.
He snarled at the sight of her, the symbol of the Good Hunter over his chest warming up, a bubbling, hot rage and cold hatred filing his heart and soul at the sight of both her and thebeastsaround her.
Barking orders to those of his subordinates still alive, he rushed towards the screaming madwoman, who took one look at him and smiled an ugly, sneering grin.
"For Lamashtu!" she shrieked, and the monsters around her charged towards him with impressive speed.
"Death to all beasts!" he snarled back at her, the burning heat in his soul growing, his voice echoing oddly around him… not that he noticed. No, all that mattered were the beasts in front of him, rushing at him with slavering maws full of twisted teeth.
Their speed were great, greater than his… or they should be, but right now he felt as if he had gained wings, his steps faster and surer than ever before in his life.
The first beast jumped towards him, and he slid down towards the ground, bringing his rifle upward and unleashing a point blank volley of fire straight into the beast's chest mid-air.
Quickly getting back on his feet, his right hand left his rifle to take hold of his combat knife, the second beast rushing at him only to find itself with his blade penetrating what passed for its neck and scoring a deep cut, before he wrenched it to the side, opening up the beast's throat wide and causing disgusting, demonic blood to gush forth.
A third beast almost tackled him, but a well-placed shot from behind him by one of his subordinates caught the thing in one of its many eyes, causing it to fall to the ground shrieking.
The Lieutenant did not slow down, leaving the wounded beast to writhe in pain for now as he focused on the priority target of the unholy priestess before him.
Said's priestess' grin had turned into an ugly, hateful scowl at the sight of the death and maiming of the beasts, and she glared at him with all the madness and hatred of a damned soul worthy of the Abyss.
With an ugly sneer, she raised a symbol of her goddess high, before barking several words so fundamentally wrong to his ears that he almost fell over mid-run. The words scraped against his mind, digging in like the dirty claws of some kind of monster, sounding hateful and unnatural, and a moment later she pointed at him with a twisted grin on her face.
A wave of power rushed towards him, and the Lieutenant threw himself on the side, his stagger at the sounds of her unholy words making him more sloppy than normal.
Something he paid for, as the wave of power touched his left leg, and Lieutenant Schwarz screamed as a sensation of intense pain and something wrongwrongwrongbegan to spread from that leg, the mad cultist cackling at his pain-
And then the symbol of his new god began heating up even harder, and apulsebloomed from it, pushing back both the pain and the sensation of wrongness for a moment.
He didn't waste a moment, training and experience both kicking in as he put a sudden burst of strength, the previous speed he possessed while fighting thebeastsgone but his sheer spite, adrenaline and hate giving him strength all the same.
The priestess' eyes widened, the beginning of panic appearing on her face as she staggered back-
But not fast enough.
He fired his rifle, the first three shots intercepted by a magic barrier, only for the symbol of his god to warm up even more, almost glowing with heat that nonetheless didn't hurt him any, and then apulsespread from the symbol to his rifle-
And his next shot shattered the barrier instantly.
The priestess had only a moment to stare in shocked disbelief before he fired again, and her head exploded into a blooming flower of superheated gore from the laser that killed her.
Her broken body collapsed, and Lieutenant Schwarz staggered to a stop, breathing hard but satisfied with his kill-
*CRRRRRRRAAAAAAASSSSSHHHHH!*
And then he died instantly when a dragon body fell on top of him, crushing him into a bloody pulp in the blink of an eye.
If he had lived, he would have noticed that the dragon was from the green dragonflight… and that it wasn't the only one falling.
Every dragon across the world was writhing in agony.
Raachaak, Lord and general in chief of the Abyssal armies in the conquest of Glyu-Uno, stared at the sky filled with smoke, ashes and of course, the black spots of dragons and aircrafts fighting flying demons by the tens of thousands.
He waited, even as he saw the counter-attack of the Black, Blue and Red Dragonflights gain speed and momentum.
He waited, even as reports came in that they were being pushed back on most fronts from the sudden enemy reinforcement.
He waited, for he knew that in war, Time was a precious resource. It could belong either to him or his enemies, and while he had doubts about the potential for victory on this campaign, he was still not going to be sloppy. His pride would allow for nothing else.
The Abyss has been working on conquering the dragons to its cause for millenia now. While it was by no means an expenditure of effort and resources equal to the campaigns against the Golarion galaxy, it was still something that Queen Slann was not willing to tolerate failure over. The catastrophic end of the Fifth Crusade had cost the Abyss a lot, if not in literal terms then certainly in prestige, stability and influence.
In the grand scheme of things, the victory of Golarion meant little to the Abyss. A few Demon Lords died True Death, one became a goddess allied with the Heavenly Realms, and the Starwound had been closed, but so what? It was but one galaxy, and a mere handful of Demon Lords. The Abyss as a whole was far, far greater than that. Entire universes could easily be swallowed by the armies of an united Abyss, the mere loss of three demon lords was nothing.
But what really hurt was a few things. First, the nature of the Demon Lords. Both Baphomet and Deskari were powerful and influential Demon Lords. Moreover, they were very militant ones, as not all Demon Lords were so interested in the mortal realms, and losing two of their greatest, most conquest-oriented Demon Lords almost at the same time was a crushing blow.
And then… there was Nocticula.
If Baphomet and Deskari had been the generals of conquest of the Abyss, then she was one of the greatest, most influential Demon Lords of the entire Abyss. Her influence was vast, and so was the number of deals and favors she could call upon to influence the Abyss. All that to say nothing of her knowledge of the mortal realms, which was as extensive as it was useful.
And now, all of that was now either lost or under question. Yes, the new Lady of the Midnight Isles officially cut off all ties with Nocticula, and did everything expected of someone trying to distance themselves from a traitor to the Abyss.
And if anyone believed that worthless drivel, well, they were free to die a most inglorious death for being utter imbeciles.
So yes, in conclusion, the literal losses of the Abyss were few in the Fifth Crusade. But the effective losses were far, far greater, and the effects of it all could still scarcely be completely felt nor understood.
And now, now… All of this.
More Demon Lords died. More armies were crushed. More resources wasted.
And all for a big, fat nothing in return. No, worse than nothing: the King of the Eldritch was aiming for war, and the Abyss was not ready. They had lost two of their greatest commanders and their greatest spymistress. Worse, that spymistress was now a traitor… and her spies were still everywhere in the Abyss.
Yes, theoretically they could attack the Midnight Isles and every demon or mortal serving Nocticula, but in reality it wasn't so simple.
The pacts that she had made were still standing in a shocking majority of cases. Many Demon Lords were bound by magical pacts in some way or form to not attack her or her servants, and quite simply, the Midnight isles and the neutral ground they offered were toousefulto lose.
And so, they had spies all over the Abyss, an entire demonic realm of dubious loyalty right in the heat of the Abyss, and one of the greatest mastermind demonkind had ever produced ready to make use of it all against them… and they could do nothing.
Without the Eldritch King, things could have been tolerated. Without the risk of a total war, Nocticula wouldn't be too much of a threat without armies to back her up.
But now, she had the armies of the coalition as allies, and the knowledge needed to pinpoint exactly where to strike to make the Abyss bleed.
Raachaak had to wonder if the Eldritch King had somehow timed his rise perfectly to make use of the consequences of the Fifth crusade. Had he been biding his time until now? Had he secretly been helping the Fifth Crusade from the start, ensuring its incredible success? He didn't know, but it would certainly explain a lot-
He stiffened, eyes narrowing.
In the sky, legions of Green and Bronze dragons suddenly appeared, while all over the city armies belonging to both dragonflights came out of portals to join up with the other three dragonflights.
The sounds of fighting escalated across the entire city-fortress, as all five dragonflights finally united their forces against the Abyss and its armies on a single battlefield.
Raachaak knew with but a single look at the situation that, in a conventional battle, the Abyss was doomed to lose. They had lost too much, did not make the enemy bleed as much as they wanted, nor indeed needed, to have a hope of victory.
Quite simply, they had neither the manpower nor the magical firepower required to win this war anymore. They barely had it when the war started, but the impossibility of bringing reinforcement was, as ever, proving its cruel use to their enemies.
The fact that the King of the Eldritch did nothing to stop the forces of the Abyss from leaving was also a big red flag that he wanted the Abyss fleeing for their lives. For whatever reason, the Eldritch King didn't want a complete slaughter of the Abyssal forces, he instead wanted them to flee in defeat.
And had this been a conventional battle, then Raachaak would have given that exact order, because the day would be lost.
But this was never meant to be a conventional battle. Only fools use raw power to claim victory, and Raachaak was no fool.
Thus, as he watched the armies of the Green and Bronze Dragonflights go to war, he did not scowl in hatred.
Instead, he smiled, an ugly, vicious thing full of sadistic cruelty.
With a thought, he teleported to where the fate of this war would be decided. Looking around, he nodded in approval at the vast hidden chamber dedicated to Queen Slann, one that the forces of the Abyss had spent years carefully creating within the city, before performing blasphemous ritual after blasphemous ritual in the name of the Queen of the Abyss.
This entire area was seeped with her unholy power, the air warping with evil magic, the taste of blood and sin heavy in the air.
And in the center of this temple of the unholy, amongst the hundreds of Abyssal priests, cultists and more present in here and now, standing at a place of honor, was the artifact which might win the Abyss this war.
A shining, multicolored gem the size of a human head, the artifact known as the Dragon's Soul (though Dragon' Souls, plural, was arguably more accurate) stood upon an unholy altar to Queen Slann's greatness.
Created through great Abyssal magic and the will of the realm's Queen, this artifact held the souls of countless dragons killed over the years. Holding within its multicolored form various souls of all five dragonflights, carefully tormented and tortured, this artifact had but one, singular goal: to create a sympathetic link between Queen Slann herself and all five Dragonflight, so that, when the time came, she could torment and corrupt them all, from the youngest dragon child to the leaders of their kind.
It was meant as the ultimate weapon to assure victory against the dragons. Every other plot and strategy thought up by the Abyss were but diversions in comparison to this. For all the power of the Eldritch Dragons, for all of the powerful magics and raw physical might they could call upon, nothing they possessed could stand up to the direct power of the Queen of the Abyss. It had taken many, many years to gather the appropriate numbers of souls required to ensure that the sympathetic link once created would not,could notbe broken by external forces, and all of it while making sure that nobody, from the dragons to Yog-Sothoth herself could (for)see it happen, but at long last it was ready.
And now, what was meant as the ultimate expression of the Abyss' unquestionable victory, an artifact that would have been held as trophy by Queen Slann over the broken, corrupted forms of the dragonflights for eternity, was now their one and only hope of claiming victory in this war.
The leader of the priests and cultists present quickly walked up to him, dark, bloodshot eyes gleaming with cruel anticipation.
"The artifact is ready, my Lord. We can begin the ritual at your command."
Raachaak took one last look at the ritual room, at all the mortals and demons present, double-checked the wards upon the site to ensure they were still working correctly, and then grinned.
"Begin the ritual." he ordered, and the unholy archpriest bowed and quickly rushed back to the others.
Soon, unholy chanting picked up in speed and power, the air of the ritual chamber growing even more suffused with Abyssal corruption, and Raachaak could feel the weight of Queen Slann being channeled through the artifact-
And then the worldPULSED.
A second later he began laughing in cruel glee as all his divination spells showed him dragons from all over the city crumpling to the ground in agony.
Maybe, just maybe, they could win this war after all!
Neltharion had little time to rejoice at the arrival of the remaining dragonflights in his city, along with Ysera and Nozdormu coming to him to catch up and better organize their combined efforts against the Abyss.
One moment he and his friends were greeting each other warmly the next he and his fellow leaders staggered, Al Azif suddenly cursed loudly, and every other dragon began falling to the ground, writhing in agony.
"What's going on?!" he exclaimed, as he appeared to be the least hit by whatever was going on.
"It's the Abyss!" shouted Al Azif, a rare expression of panic growing on her face. "No… It's Queen Slann herself! She somehow is casting a species-wide curse through sympathetic magic to all dragons on the planet!"
"How?!" exclaimed Malygos. "How could she get what she needs for-"
"Souls." gasped Alexstrasza, looking pale as she leaned against the table they had been sitting around with both hands. "The Abyss must have gathered the souls of our people over the years they had been fighting us. It's the only thing that makes sense."
Malygos paused, then cursed loudly as they all came to the same conclusion.
It was so very simple.. And yet, so very effective.
"What can we do?!" exclaimed Ysera, looking in panic at her writhing daughter, moaning in pain. The woman looked like she'd dearly wished to go to her, but her trembling body made it clear that, just like the other leaders of the dragonflights, she was horrifyingly weakened right now, to the point that even walking was beyond her.
"Give me a moment!" shouted Al Azif, incredibly complex magical symbols surrounding her on all sides, her hands waving widely between them at inhuman speed. "I'm doing my best to track where it comes from and to fight off the curse's effect, but with Queen Slann directly behind this, even I'm hard pressed to do anything! The best I can do right now is protect you better, Neltharion, as we're linked, but even that is taxing me more than anything I experienced so far in this war!"
"Do what you can, Al! We need to stop this, or we're all doomed!" shouted Neltharion, gritting his teeth and standing up to look around him.
His expression turned pained to see his consort collapse on the ground, her own teeth visibly gritted in pain, and the worst part was that he knew that she was doing better than most present. Every dragon who wasn't extremely powerful was downright passed out, or worse, screaming in pain.
"Are the divine blessings not protecting us from this?" questioned Ysera.
Al Azif scoffed, even as her eyes kept moving from magical symbol to magical symbol.
"They are the only reason all dragonflights didn't go mad instantly, or damn near close! My Lord Aeon Lady Oedon and Lady Yog-Sothoth are doing the equivalent of fighting a war within your very souls, which is why you are still feeling weakened, and even that is a testament to their power considering you very well might have justexplodedinstead!"
Neltharion flinched at the very thought, and the other didn't look much better at the revelation.
But they didn't have time to worry about what-if. They needed to act, before all was lost!
"What about our mortal followers, are they still fighting?" questioned Malygos.
"They are, but without dragon support they are being pushed back!" replied Al Azif. "The shock of seeing every dragon fall from the sky and collapse on the ground was bad enough, but the demons obviously knew this was coming as they are sending everything they have left to the frontline!"
"Dammit! Is there nothing we can do?!" growled Nozdormu, the dragon visibly struggling to get up from his chair.
"I-" Al Azif paused, glanced at all of them, then her expression hardened.
She turned towards Neltharion, expression grimly determined.
"Neltharion… You've been a good master so far. I'm trusting you to win this war, for both myself and my Lord." Her expression softened slightly, even as Neltharion began to be concerned about whatever she was planning to do. "And please… be careful. I don't want to bury my first master so soon."
And with that, the magical symbols around herpulsed-
A barrier came up, surrounding Al Azif-
And then her eyes began glowing, and at the same time that Neltharion and the others could suddenly move again, shescreamed.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!"
Neltharion and the othersflinchedbackward, the sound holding so much pain, so muchagony, that it instinctively terrified them down to the very soul.
"What is she doing?!" Neltharion exclaimed, a second before Malygos sprang up, rushed to her side, began casting spells… and then began cursing loudly.
"That heroic, brave, insanemaniacis taking on the vast majority of the curse's power on herself through her connection to you, Neltharion! Her very soul isstrainingover the weight of a direct clash between her and Queen Slann's power! She's effectively fighting a war of souls with the fucking Queen of the Abyss!"
The rest of them recoiled, horror on their faces, even as the other dragons in the room began to stir and get up again.
"What?! She's going to kill herself!" cried out Alexstrasza in horror.
"I know! But there is nothing I can do! The barrier around her prevents anyone from helping, as much as it helps contain the curse!" growled Malygos, who was nonetheless casting spell after spell to try and help insomeway.
Neltharion stared at his companion, his thoughts racing as he stared at her wide-eyed, screaming form.
He knew the power of the Abyss. He knew of its corruption, of the torments it could inflict. For her to willingly bore the full weight of that curse, or close to it…
Her suffering must be immense. Her very soul must be straining and potentially frying at the edges from the sheer weight of upholding so much Abyssal magic.
He knew that she had been born not long ago, and yet here she was, putting her very soul on the line for his sake, for his people and friends' sake.
All because it was the right thing to do. All because her creator asked her to stand against evil in whatever ways she could.
The guilt in his soul as he watched the young girl shriek her heart out in agony almost made him vomit. How could anyone good and righteous could ask so much of someone so young?
And yet, he couldn't help but watch her with awe. To be willing to suffer so much, to be willing to sacrifice so much for the sake of others…
She truly was a hero.
And right now, she needed her own hero to save her.
His expression hardened.
He crushed every doubt and fears in his heart. He couldn't afford to wonder if he could be anyone's hero after nearly falling to corruption, after nearly failing his people.
He couldn't afford to hesitate, to feel fear, or to doubt the path forward.
All he could do… is to be the hero Al needed him to be.
He blinked as a message spell suddenly flared in his mind, and after carefully checking it for danger he opened it to see-
He froze.
How-
No, it did not matter.
He could feel theTruthof the message, and that was all that mattered.
"I know where the ritual is."
His words cut through the chaos around him, everyone staring at him in surprise.
He looked into the eyes of his friends and family, and knew that, more than ever before, they needed to work together to win this.
"I can guide you there. Will you fight with me, all of you?" he asked them.
Malygos glanced at the still screaming Al Azif.
"What about-"
"Trust her, as she trusts us to triumph." he told them. "She has her battle to fight… and so do we."
They glanced at each other, at Al Azif, and then back at him.
Their expressions turned determined, a sense of righteous anger coursing through all present within the room.
The demons had struck them a painful blow. No doubt many dragons had already died because of the spell they had casted. Even now, one of their own was suffering immense agony for all of their sakes. But victory was still possible. They just needed to go claim it.
One last battle. One last time, to rush forward where angels would fear to tread.
"We are ready." firmly declared Alexstrasza, the others nodding in agreement.
Neltharion smiled, feeling grateful beyond words that he had such allies… no, suchfriendsby his side.
"Then let us go be heroes."
She was Al Azif.
She had been called theNecronomicon, theBook of Dead Laws, theQanoon-e-Islam, among many other things.
"Azif" was the name given by Arabs to the nocturnal sounds, made by desert insects, that they believed to be the howling of demons.
Her current master, her very first master, Neltharion of the Black Dragonflight, has occasionally taken to calling her by the absurd contraction "Al." For some reason, she did not find this displeasing. That man has thoroughly tainted her young, innocent self.
She first came to be at the hands of Abdul Alhazred in the year 730 in the western calendar of Earth. Alhazred visited the ruins of Babylon and the subterranean caverns of Memphis, and spent ten years alone in the great southern desert of Arabia (the Robah el Khaliyeh or "Empty Space" of the ancients) and "Dahna (or "Crimson") Desert of the modern Arabs.
This desert was a terrible place, said to be protected by evil spirits and monsters of death, each more fearsome and cruel than the last. No doubt it was there that Alhazred first learnt of the existence of the Eldritch Pantheon.
Alhazred lived the remaining years of his life in Damascus, and it was there that he wrote her. One day, however, he was seized by an invisible monster in broad daylight and devoured horribly before a large number of fright-frozen witnesses. This happened in the year 738.
It was not until recently that she first became a spirit. During her time of dormancy, she had been translated into Greek and named theNecronomicon… but that was another story.
After being granted human form and the power of thought, she had been given purpose.
The purpose to hunt down all the unholy powers of Creation, and to destroy them through the power and knowledge that was contained within herself.
She could have disagreed. Sheknewthat for a fact. Her Lord, the God who gave her sentience, gave herlife, would not have stood in her way. Perhaps he would have been disappointed at her choice, but she had afeelinghe would have also been proud of her for it.
And yet, she had not. If anything… it feltright.
Like she had finally become everything she had been meant to be.
Was it the final wish of Alhazred?
… Even she did not know the Truth.
Whatever the case, she gained purpose along with life.
Even if it was programmed into her, it was no less her will. She moved of her own volition, with no one pulling her strings. When given the choice, shechoseto stand and fight.
Therefore, she felt pride in her battles.
She was Al Azif. One of, if not the most powerful grimoire ever created. By her will, worlds, perhapsuniversescould live and die. As a being meant to be on the frontline in the eternal war against Evil, as a being granted life by the Lord of the Eldritch himself, she was stronger than most Outer Gods ever would be. Indeed, she could call upon the gods themselves to do battle at her will.
Whenever evil would appear, it was up to her to weld powerful magic and Eldritch knowledge to battle it.
She would do so for eternity, if necessary. Such was the burdengivento her. Such was the war shechoseto wage.
Her first master had beendecidedfor her, but she stillchoseto work with him. It was not necessary for her to have a master, but it was in her nature to seek others to help her. She was a Grimoire, after all. A book of knowledge. What good was she if no one ever made use of her? If that knowledge remained for none but herself forevermore?
Neltharion… was a kind master. A noble soul, if obviously tormented by his failures, perceived or real. A man shouldering the weight of his people, even as that weight continuously threatened to crush him if he ever failed to uphold it.
She had studied him since the moment they had met. While her Lord had decided for her to work together, sheknewthat the choice to keep doing so long term was hers to make. And she had to admit… he was a good man. A goodchoice.
It had taken some time for her to decide why her Lord had chosen him, of all the leaders of the Dragonflights. Yes, there was the matter of his near-corruption. Yes, there was the focus of the Abyss on this city.
But she had come to see it went beyond that.
Alexstrasza was a kind woman, but she was no natural warrior. She belonged with Lady Oedon as protectors, but both women lacked the kind of personality that would see them naturally rush into the Abyss to see Evil slain at its source.
The same was true of Ysera. Kind, compassionate, she too was a protector and not a warrior. War was not in her blood, conflict not that which she was born for.
Not like Al Azif.
What of Malygos and Nozdormu, then?
The Dragonlords of Magic or Time would have made excellent masters. Their knowledge of magic, or of the Space-Time Continuum, boosted by her own power and knowledge, would have turned them into terrifying forces of nature.
And yet, they had not been chosen… and Al Azif had eventually understood why.
It was a simple thing, really.
It was all about the Heart.
Neltharion was not the smartest, nor the most knowledgeable. He was not the wisest, nor the most cunning. Nor was the most compassionate and kind. But what he had was the will to stand against Evil, no matter how impossible victory might be.
For years, he stood at the forefront of the war between the dragonflights and the Abyss. For years, it was his city that had to fight a shadow war against cultists and demons. For years, it was him that had to resist falling to corruption.
For years, he stood alone, a sole pillar of strength guarding the gate of his people's souls. It was not Malygos who sought to drive the Abyss out of this world for good. It was not Nozdormu, for all his knowledge of Time.
It was Neltharion, stubborn, noble Neltharion, who decided that only in total victory could true peace could be achieved. And even then, she knew that he would remain ever vigilant, ready for when new evil would come to strike at his people.
Her Lord decided on Neltharion for a simple reason: he above all others was a true warrior ready and willing to challenge evil whenever it could be found, no matter how impossible the task may seem.
And so, here and now, when Evil had struck a blow greater than any others, and sacrifice was required…
How could she do any less than her master?
She wondered if her Lord had seen this coming. Had known that she would learn all these lessons, and the choice she would make when the time came. Most likely, considering who and what he was.
For a second, she was grateful for it. Even while keeping his distance, even when letting her face her own battles, he was still watching out for her, making sure she would learn and grow.
And then that second passed, and Al Azif mustered her courage, gathered all the resolve she possessed, made use of all the lessons she had learnt while observing Neltharion…
And she took on the full power of the curse aimed at her master, his friends, and their people.
… The agony she felt was inimaginable.
The pain was so great it would have broken the mind of most mortals, and probably some lesser deities.
Corruption beyond anything she had ever felt before slammed into her soul, assaulting her defenses with such strength that the number of cognito-hazard and memetic threats risking to twist her soul with the taint of the Abyss was greater than the number of stars in an entire supercluster of galaxy.
Despite herself, she screamed in agony. The full weight of the Queen of the Abyss slammed into her, especially once she noticed what Al Azif was doing, and standing her ground was without a doubt the hardest thing she had ever done in her young life, requiring her to pull on the full weight of her existence.
Copies of the Necronomicon had spread across all of Space and Time. So great was her Name, so mighty was her Legend, that gods and civilizations alike from all corners and times of Creation had sought even bare fragments of her knowledge.
And here and now, she called upon each and every single one of them to hold her ground, redirecting and spreading out the spiritual and magical power and mental strain of fighting this battle across every part of her that has, is, and will ever exist.
She even created new copies of herself, paradoxically impossible, in order to offload the full weight of the corruptive power even further, and make it harder for the Abyssal power seeking her destruction of corruption to attack those parts of her.
Even then, it was barely enough. Such was the power of the Queen of the Abyss that she, the greatest Grimoire to ever exist, with knowledge capable of shattering lesser multiverses, buckled under the demonic assault she was under.
She called upon the power of magic most pantheons of gods could scarcely believe even existed. Upon knowledge the greatest civilizations to ever exist could scarcely hope to comprehend.
It was still barely enough.
And yet-
Itwasenough.
Al Azif's world was one of agony. Countless whispers of corruption surrounded her. Her own memetic defenses and multidimensional defensive wards were stuck in a constant loop of destruction and healing. Her very soul screamed in pain. Her existence narrowed down to a multidimensional war against one of the most corruptive forces in the entire Omniverse.
But she was Al Azif.
She was written by an Arab rendered mad with knowledge, but determined enough to ensure the omniverse would be kept safe from harm even in his madness.
She had been given life by the Good Hunter, a once mortal man who endured countless horrors and incredible agony, even death time and again, to save Humanity from evil and reach greatness for himself.
She was the Grimoire of Neltharion of the Black Dragonflight, a man who stood against corruption from within and without for years in order to defend his people.
And so she gritted her teeth, stood her ground, looked into the pulsating, unholy star of Abyssal power that was the representation of Queen Slann in her mind-
And flipped her the bird with a mocking sneer.
Somehow, she had the strangest sensation ofsomeonethrowing her a thumb up while cackling from deep within herself.
She didn't know whether she was beginning to hallucinate somehow, but either way Queen Slann responded by throwing even more power at her in revenge, and it was all that Al Azif could do to not get crushed into nothing by her sheer fury.
She still kept her middle finger raised towards the Abyssal Queen, though.
It just feltright.
Neltharion and his friends quickly teleported to the place that the message indicated, along with a honor guard including members of all five dragonflights and most of his and his friends' family as back-up to boot.
It was not the time to hold back. It was the time to put everything on the line, and fight with all their might for victory.
The industrial area they arrived in was deep in Demon-held territory, but the massive factory before them appeared to be just like any other in this place.
It was only by the Blessing of their gods that Neltharion and his friends could see theTruthof things… and notice the incredibly powerful and well-hidden wards over the place.
Wards holding the distincts mark of Queen Slann herself.
"This… this is a temple to the Queen of the Abyss.In our city." breathed his consort in horror at the revelation of what they were truly looking at.
"Yes." Growled Neltharion, horror overcome with righteous fury at the sight. "Hidden from us for years, now…" he grinned like a hungry dragon. "But no longer."
Neltharion didn't hesitate. He took his true form, flew high in the sky-
And then turned sharply downwards, before unleashing his fire breath upon the building.
The wards promptly flickered in existence, radiating with evil and cruelty, but held strong… until his friends joined in, and the full might of all five blessed leaders of the Dragonflights proved too much.
The wards crumbled, followed by the walls and ceiling of the building, and then the floor of said building crumbled down-
To reveal the hidden temple beneath.
Everyone recoiled as a wave of Abyssal magic spread out from the now revealed temple, while within it stood hundreds of cultists and thousands of demons, all looking up at them with surprise and hate, magic barriers protecting them from being crushed by falling stones.
And right there, at the center of it all-
Was what they came here for.
A glowing artifact of ever-shifting colors shone brightly before them, held upon a bloodsoaked altar, and a single look at it told Neltharion and his friends what it was made of.
They blanched in horror at thesightof the tormented souls of their kin within the artifact, crying out in maddened agony for salvation, before their hearts hardened with hateful, righteous determination.
"Dragons." thundered the Balor standing near the artifact, his voice echoing with unholy power, a look of hate on his face… but bafflingly little surprise. "It was a mistake to come here. I do not know how you found out about this place, or how you can endure the curse, but no matter. Now that you are here, you willfall."
"No. Today, only the Abyss will fall!" shouted Neltharion, before he dived down, his friends and their guards and family behind them, as they charged forwards against the three Balors, the legions of cultists and the demons, all of them with one objective:
The glowing artifact right there for all to see, pulsating with unholy power.
He and his friends dived down in dragon forms, unleashing their breath upon all within the massive temple, only for the demons and cultists to call upon the power within the artifact to defend themselves.
A bright, glowing crimson magical shield came up above the forces of the Abyss, protecting them from harm, and forcing the dragons to cut off their attack. Instead, they waited until the barrier came down and the first demons and Abyssal mages began to cast spells to strike at them to dive down even faster, began slamming down into the ground with thundering force, crushing many mortals and demons alike and sending many others collapsing in a heap on the trembling ground.
Then they turned into humanoid forms, letting the other dragons come down while all five friends charged forward, blades raised high and magic spells flying at high speed towards the mortals and demons who had had good enough footing to not fall on the ground.
A brutal melee ensued, as the greatest warriors of the five dragonflights clashed in the middle of a rapidly ruined temple against the greatest warriors the Abyssal forces had left.
Priestesses of Lamashtu ordered unholy beasts to charge, others unholy priests created swarms of demonic insects or casted horrifying magical diseases that would leave anyone who was hit melting into steaming puddles of gore in moments.
Demons clashed with humanoid dragons, great contests of strength, speed and skill leading to brutal deaths for the vanquished.
Green Dragons casted powerful spells capable of warping reality through their power over Dreams and Reality, countered by Abyssal mages and priests empowered by the unholy ground of the temple they were fighting in.
Red Dragons unleashed great acts of pyromancy or powerful spells capable of healing the near-dead in seconds, though the unholy temple ground countered even their skill and power slightly.
Blue Dragons started great magical duels with demons and Abyssal mages, powerful elemental spells flying back and forth along with vicious magical curses.
Bronze Dragons focused on support, intercepting spells that their foresight told them would have killed allies, casting spells that warped Luck, Fate and Destiny to make demons and cultists stumble at the worst moments, and in general focusing their efforts with the other dragonflight to enhance the attack and defensive abilities of all other dragonflights. With their foresight, they seamlessly created a perfect collaboration between all allied forces, expanding the threat level of all present though inhumanly perfect moments of teamwork.
And finally, the Black dragonflight charged right in on the frontline, challenging the Abyssal forces with deadly martial skill and sheer brute strength, discipline and training allowing the Black Dragons to act as the battering ram of the party into the ranks of the Abyss.
The five leaders of the Dragonflights exemplified the acts of their lesser kin, and their souls seemed to almost shine out of their bodies, auras of different colors fitting for each dragons surrounding them as the blessings upon their souls counteracted the unholy nature of the temple for themselves, and to a lesser degree the dragons around them.
Neltharion and Malygos charged straight towards the leading Balor, while his friends divided their numbers amongst the two other Balors serving as subordinates for what had to be the leader of the Abyss.
"This is my city, and I will not let it fall to the likes of you, demons!" Neltharion shouted, bringing down his sword against the fire whip the Balor wielded.
The demon sneered, unleashing a brutal set of attacks with his whip against Neltharion with one hand, and casting powerful spells with the other towards Malygos, the ground shaking as the spells of both fighters collided and exploded into massive shockwaves.
"Your defiance means nothing, fool! The Artifact shall grant us victory over your kind!" the Balor growled, his voice echoing with power, and yet-
Neltharion's eyes narrowed, as theTruthshone to his sight.
"Lies." he hissed in satisfaction, deflecting a blow from the Balor's whip. "I can feel your doubts. Your fear. You do not believe that you can still win this war!"
The Balor snarled, a giant ball of Abyssal Fire leaving his free hand to harmlessly dissipate against a hastily raised shield from Malygos.
"You damn dragons wasted countless years of planning and efforts into claiming your kind! Plan after plan, contingency after contingency, and then that damned Eldritch King came out of nowhere and ruined it all! I almost had your soul, Neltharion, a few months were all it would have taken to break the last of your resolve! And then-!"
The Balor snarled harder, his whip gaining up speed as he stared at him with literal burning hatred as fire bursted out of his eyes sockets.
"And then, that mortal upstart playing at Eldritch Kingship destroyed everything!" he concluded in fury.
"Skill issue, scrub." deadpanned Neltharion, unsure about the meaning of the words but oddlycertainthey fitted the situation.
The Balor growled, before both of them jumped back as a sea of fire hit the place they had been fighting on.
"Sorry!" shouted Alexstrasza, before his friend returned to fighting her own Balor, sword and magic flashing at eye-watering speed between the two combatants.
The Balor that Neltharion was fighting snarled several words in Abyssal tongue, summoning several Babau demons to his side, the demonic assassins smiling cruelly before rushing towards Malygos.
Then the Balor charged forward, and Neltharion charged right back, sword meeting whip in a clash that sent sparks everywhere.
"Come, my friend! To victory!" shouted Nozdormu from behind him with a voice that echoed into his very soul.
A pulse of power spread out across the battlefield, and Neltharion blinked as his vision doubled, seeingwhat isandwhat will be.
"For the Dragonflight!" agreed Alexstrasza, her own voice echoing in his soul just like Nozdormu, and Neltharion felt something deep within himresonate.
The Aura of power around him and his friends thickened, then reality seemed to shudder, shake and bend as all five of them felt their blessings answer their call for battle.
Neltharion looked at the Balor, who was staring shock at him and Malygos, and then down at himself, seeing a cloak of starlight and pure darkness cover him from head to toe. Glancing at his friends, seeing their own cloaks of power, he grinned, then glanced back at the Balor before him, who was looking as fearful as a Balor can get.
Hunt the Beasts, the thought flickered inside his mind, an imperative to follow as well as a natural Truth of the world.
And Neltharion did as ordered, his form blurring unnaturally, space shattering as he slammed his sword downward at the Balor who desperately tried to fend off his attacks.
Malygos followed a moment later, spells warping the air as they hit the Balor instantly, causing him to cry out in pain. A Balor was powerful, and this one seemed far more powerful than the other two, thus his magic resistance offered him a modicum of protection from the spells hitting him… which was the only reason he survived, as Neltharion began to smack the Balor aside like a ball of ping-pong. He couldseeit, every movement necessary to hit, every angle his sword needed to be at to ensure the Balor would be wounded. The Demon was good enough to survive even in the face of overwhelming odds, but he could tell they were winning, slowly but surely, his physical abilities jumping far beyond anything he ever had, and his skill with a blade becoming downright…
Divine.
"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrgggghhhh!"
The two other, weaker Balors screamed as Alexstrasza, Ysera and Nozdormu finally slaughtered them, Alexstrasza turning the burning blood of the wounded Balor she was fighting against him, piercing his body over and over again until the demon literally exploded into a fountain of demonic ichor and gore.
Nozdormu and Ysera teemed up, creating some kind of magic sphere that made even Neltharion' head hurt to look at and hitting the Balor with it, the demon not even having a second to scream before Neltharion'ssightallowed him to see the demon being erased from the entire Space-Time Continuum.
Reality buckled, and suddenly Neltharion both remembered he and his friends having to fight the Balors… when his new set of memories said that there were only ever two Balors present.
The disturbing implications of erasing a Balor from ever existing aside, Neltharion focused on the last Balor, taking in the growing number of bloodied cuts and wounds from magic-
"Catch!"
-and then the entire temple seemed to freeze in shock when a female naga woman appeared from nowhere near the unholy altar, behind the rows of demons and cultists standing guards around it, and outrightsmackedthe glowing artifact towards the dragons with a sword.
A few moments earlier, within the temple of Queen Slann.
Ta'lanurgatlau, the Serpent of Despair, had been waiting for a chance to redeem herself for her folly for nearly a hundred thousand years.
The immortal monster that had once tried to steal Azathoth's power for herself, only to ultimately fail and get sealed away in a cave that technically didn't even exit (the benefits of paradoxical realms of existence) had long ago had the chance to reflect on her sher hubris and, to be quite brutally honest, utter stupidity.
One simply did not try to "get one over" the Queen of the Eldritch. The many, many fools who tried doing so over the eons suffered fates as varied as they were usually fatal.
When people could even remember they ever existed to begin with, that is.
The fact that Ta'la had not only tried doing exactly that, but "merely" got sealed away in her paradoxical cave of non-existence for a hundred thousand years had been downrightmerciful.
For over a hundred thousand years, she had been stuck unable to do anything… expect talk over the psychic channels that every eldritch of sufficient power and age inevitably learnt about.
A hundred thousand of years of being unable to doanythingexcept talking to others, even by eldritch standards, led to her reconsidering many things in her life, the sheer hubris that had led to her imprisonment first of all.
In the end, she and Azathoth had even begun talking. The Queen, far from being cruel, had mostly been curious about what in the Void she had been thinking, trying to steal her power of all things.
… Ta'la would freely admit that revealing it all first began as a result of a bet made while drunk off her ass, causing the Queen of the Eldritch to start laughing madly for quite a while, really didn't rank in the most impressive moments of her life.
It was not the kind of achievement she wanted to be remembered by, that was for sure.
Being remembered for quadrillion of years as "that one naga who got so drunk she tried to steal Azathoth's power and failed miserably" was a hell of a way to become part of history.
Eldritch hadlongmemories too, so it really, really wasn't out of possibility for that exact thing to actually happen.
So to say that Ta'la was just a bit desperate to redeem herself before it was too late was something of an understatement. She did not want to live her entire immortal life being constantly laughed at because she got drunk so hard she almost committed suicide by Azathoth, that was a hell far beyond any even an Eldritch being could endure.
So when the new King of the Eldritch came to her with an offer, well, there was no way she was going to refuse.
… Also, hearing Azathoth squeeing in the psychic channels over her new King was as adorable as it was amusing.
The mission she had been given was both straightforward and quite complex: Hunt down the Dragon Soul artifact created by the forces of the Abyss, keep an eye on it, and when the right moment arrived, make sure it fell into the hands of the leaders of the dragons.
Her task was not to kill anyone in specific, or fight battles.
It was to make use of one of her skills that she had developed in her ill-thought goal of stealing Azathoth's power. That is to say, her ability to hide herself from others, even the gods themselves.
After all, if anyone wanted to strike at Azathoth, they first needed to avoid her own personal guard in the form of Yog-Sothoth. And nobody avoided the attention of the Gate and the Key without agreatdeal of difficulty.
In the end, her own skill had still not been enough to make her insane goal a success… But even in failure it would be a lie to say it had not helped a lot.
And so, Ta'la had tracked down the artifact to the city of the Black Dragonflight. She had hidden herself, stalking powerful demons and the leaders of cultists, going up the Abyssal chain of command from local leaders to sub-commanders to actual commanders all the way to the Balor in charge: Raachaak, an uncomfortably cunning demon for his kind.
One of the few demons who seemingly had enough of a good head on his shoulders to recognize an upcoming defeat when it was staring at him in the face, refusing to let mindless pride blind him from the truth of the strategic situation.
Even then, it still took a bit more time before she finally was able to track down the hidden temple, infiltrate it, and then-
All she could do at that point washurry up and wait.
She had never so fully understood that mortal military joke until she had been left unable to do anything, waiting for the right time when all the leaders of the Dragonflights would be gathered in the city to send a message to Neltharion, the leader of the Black Dragonflight, holding the location of the artifact.
She had been left powerless, watching as the artifact was used, unable to do anything without breaking her own cover. Even then, doing her best to remain unseen by Queen Slann while right there in a temple dedicated had been a harrowing, anxiety-inducing moment like she had not experienced in… Well, over a hundred thousand years, now.
Thankfully, she had not grown rusty with age, and the symbol of the King of the Eldritch she had been given before being sent out on her mission was also helping. She could feel its power reach out with hers, combining to enhance her own formidable capabilities.
Aaah, if only she had had that a hundred thousand years ago, then maybe-
But no, there was no point in thinking about old follies.
Not when she was potentially committing a whole new one here and now.
Well, in her defense things so far have gone well, but still. Pitting her against a temple full of demons and the might of Queen Slann herself in her first mission for her new Lord?
She appreciated the faith put in her, she really did, but wasn't it asking way too much of her?!
She held back a sigh, knowing she couldn't even afford even that much in her current circumstances, and instead waited.
She waited when the dragons arrived.
She waited when they all began fighting it out with the Abyssal forces.
She waited when the leaders of the dragons suddenly went through a sudden divine power-up.
She waited until the two weakest Balors had fallen, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she stared at the last one. Raachaak was fighting hard, but she could tell he was holding back. Now, why was that cunning old bastard doing that? At a time like this? What was he planning-
Go.
The order came, echoing through her very soul, and before she could even think about it Ta'lamoved.
The mortals never saw her.
The demons surrounding the Altar barely had begun tensing when she was through their ranks.
Coming closer to the altar, she brought one of her four arms holding a sword down, down towards the Artifact.
A red barrier came up, a last ditch protection in place to prevent exactly what she was trying to do. Agony lit up in her entire body, mind and soul as the power of Queen Slann desperately tried to prevent her from hitting the artifact-
But it was not enough. The symbol of the Good Hunter glowed, her sword glowed next, and the next thing she knew the glowing, multicolored artifact went flying in the distance, straight in the middle of the frontline of dragons.
"Catch!"
She collapsed after shouting her warning, the aftereffects of Queen Slann's full power, even if she endued it for but a mere second, being far too much for a mere eldritch monster like her, with not a spark of true divinity to her name to endure-
But even so, despite the agony, despite the way her whole body was twitching in pain and her limbs wouldn't respond to her will-
She smiled.
A hundred thousand years late… but I finally made a Queen fall, in the end.
She was absolutely going to celebrate this, along with her hardwon freedom once everything settled down.
She'll lay off the alcohol, though. She liked to think she had learnedsomelessons besides a newfound love for gossip during her time as a prisoner.
The moment the Artifact went flying, it was like the world froze.
It was as if no one, not even Queen Slann herself, could believe what had just happened.
Every demons, every mortals, every dragons just stared in utter shock at the flying, glowing ball of Abyssal power and Dragon souls-
Everyone… except for five people.
The moment the naga screamed her warning, the heads of all five dragonssnappedtowards the Artifact as if by the hands of the gods.
Most likely, itwas.
All five dragons promptly abandoned everything they had been doing and lunged for the glowing sphere at the same time.
Through whathadto be divine intervention, the fingers of all five dragons reached out and touched the sphere at the exact same moment in Time.
And the world turned white.
Through the blessing upon the souls of the five dragons, three Outer Gods reached out and filled the sphere with their power, aiming it straight towards its master-
Queen Slann herself.
In an instant, the artifact that was meant to become the doom of Dragonkind… Became their salvation.
The sympathetic link binding the dragons and Queen Slann was not merely one way. In her arrogance, blinded by the Pride that made up one of the Seven Deadly Sin that all Infernal Beings were all at least partially affected by, she had not thought it a weakness to fear.
She had thought wrong.
The full power of God-King Aeon, Lady Oedon and Lady Yog-Sothoth slammed into the Queen-Goddess of the Abyss, and the woman could do nothing butscream.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
It was a sound that echoed across all of Glyu-Uno.
It spread out, across the entire Abyss, and even beyond.
All three Infernal Realms, all three Heavenly Realms, even Axis and the Maelstrom-
Everyone heard it.
The scream of agony of one of the most feared beings in existence.
Perhaps, had she prepared for the possibility, the damage would not have been so grave. Perhaps, had she noticed the true purpose of the blessings upon the dragons, she would have resisted better.
But she had not. Safe in her fortress in the Abyss, the Queen had thought herself mostly untouchable.
If the war truly started, then yes, she could have been attacked… but by all indications, it was not going to happen, not yet.
War, ultimately, is about deception.
You must strike not where the enemy expect it, but where he would have never seen it coming.
And the Good Hunter knew very well the hubris of the gods. The same hubris that had helped him rise to godhood over the corpse of the Moon Presence.
And so, at last, the full plan came together.
In a single moment, three of the mightiest Outer Gods struck as one.
The blow echoed across the Omniverse, a soundless hammerblow striking one of the Foundation of Evil upon all of Reality.
To the credit of Queen Slann, she did not die. Even caught by surprise, even struck by three of the greatest existences in all of reality, she clung to life with all of the spite a Dark Goddess of her caliber possessed.
But even after breaking the connection with the artifact, it was clear the damage had been done.
The entire Abyss reeled back in shock as countless demons just… ceased to exist instantly.
Entire lesser Abyssal realms just straight up disintegrated, legions of demons turned to ashes in a blink of an eye, mortal cultists across quintillions of galaxies collapsed dead…
An entire Infernal Realmbledin a way unseen in history.
And right in front of the five leaders of the Dragonflights, the glowing artifactchanged.
Where before it exuded malice, hate and suffering, now it shone with the combined power of the three Outer Gods who had purified it.
Everyone in the temple froze as a beam of light emerged from the glowing artifact, going upward and splitting open the black clouds above the city.
Souls, bright, healthy and restored by divine might flowed through it, free at last to head towards their rightful rest in the Heavenly Realms.
For over a minute, the flow of souls kept going, until five dragons stepped forth, their souls shining bright.
Representatives of the five Dragonflights, they looked at their leaders and bowed deeply, respect and gratefulness clear upon their features, before sending one last smile at their kin, their leaders and the gods watching over them all-
"Thank you."
-And then disappearing as well into the Heavens above with one last expression of gratitude carrying the full strength of their emotions to all watching.
Then and only then the pillar of light no longer shone upwards, retreating down within the glowing sphere-
"FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!"
And then a shockwave of divine power spread out from it, eclipsing the entire world.
In an instant, every wounded righteous soul in the world was healed, and every demon banished back into the Abyss. Every patch of ground tainted by the Abyss was purified, every corrupt artifact remaining on-world cleansed utterly.
In but a mere heartbeat, all traces of the Abyss upon Glyu-Uno ceased to exist, and even the sky shone with warmth, the heavy clouds once darkening the sky nowhere to be seen as all Abyssal mana upon the world disappeared instantly.
As for the dragons, the shockwave of power impacted them most of all. Their power grew, greater and greater, turning even the weakest of their kind into beings capable of matching Balors in a test of raw strength and magical power.
The leaders of the Dragonflights themselves instantly ascended to demi-god status, the path to full divinity open to them simply by living long enough.
Across the Prime Multiverse, Time itself seemingly stood still. A staring match began between the wounded, gasping form of Queen Slann having collapsed on her throne, and the King of the Eldritch, silently daring her to fight back, to challenge him in open war even after the blow he had struck upon her.
Cosmic eyes met glowing red eyes, and for a moment Queen Slann's face twisted with unspeakable rage. Her right hand gripping the armchair of her throne with stone-shattering strength, she snarled, readying herself to try and smite Glyu-Uno out of sheer fury, consequences be damned-
Only to freeze when dozens, then hundreds of Eldritch Goàds began to shield the planet.
The Eldritch Gods of Glyu-Uno had finally acted, psychically standing underneath the presence of the King of the Eldritch in silent support, making it clear that the Dragons of Glyu-Uno had finally been accepted by the local Eldritch deities of the world.
Queen Slann's sneer towards them held a near-unfathomable amount of disdain and contempt, but the act had done the trick of distracting her for a moment, long enough for her mind to take over her emotions.
With one last look of utmost loathing towards the Good Hunter, Queen Slann finally retracted her power-
And by so doing, conceptually acknowledged the defeat of the Abyss.
Wasting not a second, the King of the Eldritch acted, and twisted that symbol and a shockwave of energy that spread across the entire Prime Multiverse.
Every single demon outside of the Abyss was near-instantly banished back to it, right before he put a great Seal upon the entire Realm, ensuring that no inhabitants of the Infernal Realm could leave it without either his express permission… or until enough time had passed for even the power he earned through his victory that he was now channeling towards the seal would be spent.
One day, it was clear that the war would start in earnest. One day, the Seal would fall, and the Prime Multiverse would burn in the fires of the greatest Demonic War ever seen.
But that day was not today.
Today, Good triumphed over Evil-
And its champions could now celebrate their hard-won peace without fear for millenia to come.
A.N: Alright! Here is the next chapter in which we continue the events of Love Azathoth!
And the Dragon War comes to its climatic conclusion!
Al Azif is officially the only person toeverhave given the middle finger to the Queen of the Abyss and lived to tell the tale. If anybody had any doubt she's effectively Aeon's daughter, well, I'm pretty sure that just put them to rest for good.
I've set up the field for the Abyssal civil war, more on that in future chapters, though it will be kept as a background thing.
Also, yes, I mentioned Ta'la when Aeon first went around recruiting people to aid the Dragons. I/Aeon just kept her hidden in the background until the best time to have her appear came to pass. After all, sometimes, all you need to win is the right person at the right time and place. Yes, the dragons would have overcome the Demons even without her help, but the purpose of her presence was to surprise even Queen Slann on the timing of when the Artifact would fall in the dragons' hands. Well, that, and a few other things, more subtle bits of manipulation on Aeon's part…
And finally, What happened when the Dragon Soul ended up in the hands of the Dragons. Aeon's plan for why he and others blessed the five leaders went beyond just helping them fight the war. He was using them as hidden explosives ready to go off in Queen Slann's face, while intending to use the purified Dragon Soul as a Divine Artifact he could use to channel his power throughout the world, cleansing it of Abyssal corruption, and also through the dragons, effectively uplifting their entire species in one fell swoop.
As for the Abyss, well it got metaphorically punched in the face, same with Queen Slann, who has now been greatly weakened.
Countless demons are straight up gone, entire parts of the Abyss too, and every demon has been banished back to the Abyss, unable to leave it. It's not a complete victory, but it certainly hurt the Abyss greatly.
Also, as mentioned in previous chapters, the Seal doesn't actually stop demons from interacting with other Infernal Realms, just with every other part of Reality.
Finally, quick question for you all: who was your favorite character during this story Arc, and why?
With the war over, I can go back to character interactions, Aeon properly becoming King, and of course meeting and seducing goddesses left and right. It wouldn't be Aeon if he didn't take one look at available, sexy goddesses and didn't do his best to seduce them, after all! Gotta catch'em all! Oh, and I've got a scene with Oedon I've been waiting since the Bloodborne Arc to write, so that's going to be fun!
Still, with all that being said, I hope you all enjoyed this update! Next time, the Aftermath of the Dragon War!