A/N: Welcome back~!
I have a new Elden Ring Co-writer helping me write these stories now -hence Elden Ring Fridays- which is a massive help. We're back and this chapter really ramps things up! Looking forward to your feedback! It really means a lot... =D
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As ever, I own no references, quotes, themes or memes. They're tributes to legends far greater than little 'ol me.
I'm just a humble author trying to make his way in this wild world, one word at a time.
Time and feedback will determine if this remains a story. Simple as that.
In other words...its up to YOU, the reader. Do let me know~!
"Let. Them. FIGHT!"
~?
Name thy Dragon
The heavens split apart in a maelstrom of golden fire.
Lightning tore through the sky like the spears of vengeful gods, a frenzied dance of divine wrath that set the clouds ablaze. Thunder rolled in deafening waves, shaking the firmament itself, as though the very world recoiled in dread of the battle yet to unfold. The winds howled in anguish, even the earth trembled beneath the weight of an approaching cataclysm.
Amidst the shattered ruin of ancient stones and the charred remnants of fulgurbloom fields, a lone warrior stood, shoulders broad, his stance unshaken. Naruto—no, Godfrey—exhaled slowly, the breath curling from his lips like the growl of a slumbering beast stirred to wakefulness. His grip flexed around the haft of his war-axe, his fingers tightening in anticipation. Before him, wreathed in stormfire and reborn in his full, unshackled majesty, stood the dragon king of a forgotten age.
Placidusax had shed the withered husk of time, unfurling his true form at last. He'd been monstrous before, but now, freshly healed, he was truly a sight to behold. Five titanic heads loomed over the battlefield, each crowned with spiraling arcs of stormfire, their molten-gold eyes burning with an intelligence as ancient as the cosmos.
His scales rippled like a living sea of liquid gold, incandescent beneath the heavens' furious light. Every breath exhaled sent waves of raw, primordial power rolling through the air, distorting reality itself. He was colossal—not merely a dragon, but an entity of the past, a living testament to an era where his kind reigned supreme, unchallenged and unbowed.
Godfrey lifted his chin, his lips curling into a slow, exultant grin. The blood in his veins roared, thrumming in a furious cadence that matched the distant thunder.
This was it. The battle he had longed for. The battle worthy of him.
"Finally."
High above him, perched upon a jagged outcropping of blackened obsidian stone, a queen and a dragon observed the combatants.
Marika leaned forward, golden eyes gleaming with unrestrained excitement, her fingers drumming a steady rhythm against the rock. While she had been dismayed initially by her Consort's reckless, feckless act of healing, now she found herself pleased, nay beyond pleased, drinking in the sight below with something akin to hunger.
She understood his game, now.
The intensity of the battle that followed would be legendary, the weight of the combatants' power immeasurable, and the intrigue between the observers unknowable.
Beside her, Florissax stood, her form deceptively human, yet no less imposing. Though she bore no wings, her presence alone marked her as draconic—clawed fingers rested upon her hip, and when she spoke, her voice carried the weight of ages.
"Now do you see?" Florissax murmured, her gaze shifting toward the warrior who stood unbowed before the behemoth. "Why we dragons endure? Even the mightiest of mortals falter before my lord's rebirth. Before the truth of what he is."
Marika hummed in response, her head tilting slightly, golden tresses catching the light. But she did not look at Placidusax.
Her gaze remained fixed upon Godfrey.
"Tremble?" She exhaled a soft, almost amused breath, then shook her head. "No. Look at him."
Florissax turned, following her gaze.
The warlord stood at ease, not in the way of a man resigned to fate, nor one paralyzed by dread. No, he stood as a predator does upon sighting prey—his muscles coiled, his stance firm, his golden gaze alight with something primal. Thrill. Excitement. A hunger deeper than mere battle lust.
"That is not the face of a man who fears," Marika murmured, her lips curving into something almost indulgent. "That, little lizard, is the face of a man who has found his purpose."
The storm above bellowed its renewed fury. The world itself held its breath.
And then, with a resounding crack of thunder, the battle began.
THOOM!
Florissax watched as the golden-haired titan dug his axe into the earth with a thunderous crack, the shattered stone singing its protest beneath his raw might. The ground trembled at his touch, but Godfrey merely rolled his shoulders, unbothered, like a great beast rousing itself before the hunt. There was no hesitation in his stance, no flicker of doubt—only the measured confidence of a warrior who had known battle his entire life.
And then he grinned.
"There you have it." he laughed, a deep boisterous noise that rivaled the thunder itself. "The table has been set. NOW LET US BEGIN!"
Florissax's golden gaze narrowed. She had seen countless men tremble before the Dragonlord, their resolve stripped bare in the face of his majesty. But not this one. No, this one welcomed the storm.
Above them, Placidusax reared onto his hind legs, a living tempest of fury and dominion. He threw his heads back and roared—a sound that tore through the heavens, splitting the sky as arcs of crimson lightning cascaded around his titanic form. The storm obeyed, the winds howling in violent frenzy, their very essence sharpening into unseen blades, ready to strip flesh from bone. Indeed, the very battlefield warped beneath the force of it, lesser creatures obliterated before they could even register their doom.
But Godfrey was not lesser.
With a stomp that shattered the battlefield, he launched himself forward, turning raw momentum into a cyclone of destruction. His axe arced through the storm-choked air, a whirlwind of death aimed for Placidusax's midsection.
For an instant, the Dragonlord seemed to allow the strike—then, as though he had never been there at all, his titanic bulk simply vanished.
The storm rippled. The sky fractured. The space where he had loomed—where his scales had glowed like molten gold—shattered into a void of thundering nothingness. A rift split the world in his wake, the air rupturing as lightning filled the void he left behind. The battlefield shuddered as fulgurbloom petals, ignited by raw power, scattered into the air like dying embers.
Godfrey's instinct screamed.
He twisted—his body moving before thought, before reason—just in time to raise his axe in defense.
BOOM.
A tail, as vast and unrelenting as a castle tower, slammed into his guard. The world exploded from the sheer force of impact. Shockwaves rippled outward, carving trenches into the land, turning the once-solid ground into a roiling sea of debris. The force of the blow could have leveled mountains, sundered keeps, shattered the spine of lesser deities.
Godfrey did not break.
His boots gouged deep furrows into the cracked stone as he skidded backward, muscles locking into place like tempered iron. His arms screamed under the weight of the attack, but he held firm. He had fought gods. He had killed titans. He would not falter now.
His fingers creaked ominously as he popped every joint in his hand at once to shake the pain away.
Then he latched onto the Dragonlord's tail.
Placidussax reacted instantly, two of his fave heads arcing around to bite!
Their jaws tasted only empty air.
The remaining three heads heads were already moving, but too slowly.
Ducking them with a speed that belied his bulk, the reborn warrior whirled, dragging the Dragonlord with him, spun once, twice, thrice...!
Florissax's jaw clicked open. Surely not. He wouldn't dare.
He absolutely would.
With a triumphant cry, "Godfrey" whirled and flung the Placidussax into the air, sending him sprawling end over end.
From her perch, Marika exhaled a long, languid sigh, tilting her head back with something akin to bliss.
"Oh, that was divine~"
Florissax shot her a sidelong glance, arching a brow. "You gods are an odd breed."
Marika merely chuckled, her golden eyes alight with something dangerously close to admiration. "Look at them," she purred, gesturing toward the battlefield. "The raw power of it all, the way their movements weave together, a tapestry of devastation… such brutality!" Her fingers curled, as if yearning to grasp the very essence of the battle itself. "I adore it."
Florissax huffed, crossing her arms. "Truly, you have strange tastes, godling."
Marika's lips curled into something both knowing and indulgent. "You have eyes, don't you?" She inclined her head toward Godfrey, who had already steadied himself, his breath coming in slow, measured exhales, his grip on his axe unshaken. "Look at the way his body moves. So natural, so refined despite all that strength."
Florissax's gaze lingered on the warrior, noting the precision in his every movement—the way he absorbed each impact, how his body adapted, refining itself mid-battle as if he were sculpted by the very force of destruction itself. His instincts were razor-sharp, his resilience a force of nature.
She said nothing.
But in that silence, Marika merely smiled.
Below them, the storm howled, the heavens split with golden fire, and the battle raged on.
"Perhaps," Florissax finally allowed, voice low, contemplative. Her tail flicked once behind her long legs betraying the smallest sliver of intrigue. "He is rather pleasing to watch."
Marika turned to her, a slow, feline smirk curling her lips. "Told you~"
A boom shook the heavens as Godfrey shot forward again, unrelenting. He did not hesitate before the sundered rift in space—he embraced it, charging through the maelstrom as Placidusax twisted through the fabric of reality itself.
The Dragonlord returned to the fray and struck, one of his massive maws parting to unleash a maelstrom of stormfire, a divine inferno wreathed in pure devastation. The heavens burned with its wake, the sheer force of its heat distorting the very air.
Godfrey did not slow.
With a roar of his own, he twisted his axe with both hands, a movement refined by countless battles, and swung with the force of a mountain breaking free from the sky.
The flames shattered upon his strike like waves upon an unyielding cliff.
A shockwave detonated outward, a supernova of golden embers scattering in all directions, turning the battlefield into a realm of star-strewn infernos. The very ground beneath them writhed as the aftershocks carved trenches into the land.
But the warrior moved without pause. The instant his foot struck solid ground, he pivoted, eyes locked on his quarry.
With a motion as fluid as the tides and as devastating as an executioner's blade, he hurled his axe.
The weapon spun end over end, a streaking comet of iron and fury. The air screamed in protest as it tore through the storm-wracked battlefield, a force beyond mortal reckoning.
And then—
CRACK.
A thunderous impact split the heavens as the axe connected, striking one of Placidusax's rightmost heads.
The Dragonlord reeled, a monstrous, guttural snarl escaping from all five throats in unison as golden ichor sprayed from the wound, staining the storm-torn sky. His great form trembled for but a moment, the very concept of pain—something nearly forgotten by a being of his stature—etched across his divine countenance.
Marika and Florissax exhaled in unison.
"By the Elden Stars, I could watch him fight all day," Marika purred, utterly unashamed, the gleam in her golden eyes one of fascination, hunger, and something dangerously close to reverence.
Florissax's tail twitched, an unconscious movement that did not escape Marika's notice.
"...You are a war goddess," the dragon muttered.
"Mmm~," Marika hummed, pleased. "And what of you, dragon?" She leaned in ever so slightly, golden eyes sharp. "You can hardly tear your eyes away either."
Florissax scoffed, but she did not deny it.
Her gaze flicked toward the battlefield, where the golden-haired titan wrenched his axe free of shattered dragon bone and torn muscle, twirling it once before launching himself skyward to meet the retaliatory strike before lashing out with one of his own. There was something about his presence—something that did not merely oppose the divine, but challenged it.
"My lord is strong." There was no doubt in her voice, only certainty. "But he..." She trailed off, watching as Godfrey met the Dragonlord's oncoming wrath without a single step of hesitation. "He is something else entirely."
The sky answered with a roar.
Placidusax spread his wings and took flight, arcs of divine crimson lightning weaving across their vast expanse. The stormfire that clung to his form burned brighter, violent and alive, as if the storm itself had become one with his being.
Then he dove.
Why, some might even say he swooped.
Swooping was bad; something most dragons looked unfavorably upon, for it reminded them of their lesser cousins the drakes.
Yet when colossus of wrath and godhood, descended, that being of primordial fury smashing down like a vengeful meteor, Florissax found her breath briefly stolen away.
But Godfrey was waiting.
With a defiant roar, he leapt into the heavens, the weight of his axe already in motion, every fiber of his being yearning for the clash.
Storm met titan.
Dragon met man.
And in the wake of their collision—
The battlefield was undone in its entirety.
Heavens erupted, the land buckled, the sheer force of their meeting sending shockwaves that sundered reality itself. The storm consumed the world, and for a moment, neither could be seen—only the fury of their battle, the fire of gods and kings igniting the very sky.
Neither yielded.
Neither broke.
Neither fell.
And above it all, where only those of divine blood could witness—Marika and Florissax watched, their gazes never straying once.
For here, in the ruin of gods and dragons, where the strong defied fate and the worthy carved their names into legend—
The battle raged on.
Godfrey-Naruto!- landed with a grin, idly rolling a broad shoulder to work the kinks out.
This was fun an' all, but they were getting nowhere fast.
If this rejuvenated dragon insisted upon wielding fire and lightning, it was only fair that he use some "magic" of his own, no? Even if it was truly chakra.
Brandishing his axe in one hand he channeled energy to his hand. A rasengan, for now. Basic perhaps, but something to test the waters.
Talking during battle was a sin, most warriors scorned it out of principle, but he was just having so much fun.
He simply had to give him a little warning; it wouldn't be sporting otherwise.
"Prepare yourself!"
Placidusax roared a challenge of his own, spread his wings, and vanished in a rush of ashen mist. High above the storm, dark clouds gathered anew, crackling with ominous red lightning. Naruto regarded them for a brief moment, reconsidering his initial plan of action. Basic might not cut it here after all. Eyes blazing, he let the small sphere in his hand swell to truly titanic proportions.
Big.
Bigger.
Biggest.
Placidussax saw it too late; he was already committed, reappearing from ashen mist to swipe at him.
Naruto met him halfway, stomped a foot down, creating a web of stone spikes to stagger him in mid-lunge. It didn't stop the dragon, but it did slow him.
Such was all he needed.
In that brief moment of sluggishness, he brought the jutsu down and let go.
The noise that followed was akin to steel striking steel; the great dragon slammed into the dirt with a startled cry. Alongside it, he heard the savage scrape of sharpened scales, the agonized roar that followed, and the sickening squelch of the flesh beneath as the giant rasengan ground him down.
Was that it, then? Would something like this do him in?
How incredibly disappointing.
Without warning, Placidussax twisted aside and brought all five of his heads to bear and bit into the jutsu, preventing it from destroying him outright. Naruto balked, momentarily incredulous. He'd never seen someone have the gall -or the guts!- to actually bite a rasengan before. None had ever attempted it. He didn't see why the dragon would. To stall his inevitable demise perhaps, but he wasn't buying himself much time.
Why, do this - and to what end? Was he trying to lose? Get himself killed, perhaps?
Much to his surprise, golden flames flashed forth, burning into his attack. He'd already let go, and thus couldn't empower it any further. Instead he was left to look on, bemused, as the jutsu gradually splintered, cracked, shattered outright, leaving only a lingering blue mist behind.
In the mist that followed, Placidussax righted himself; freed from the spiraling sphere, said Dragonlord pivoted his immense form to regard him. Each of his five heads craned back, arching like some monstrous serpent. The voice that followed may have issued forth from many mouth, yet there was but one will behind it - and that will was furious.
"My turn, now."
Golden light built in his jaws and spewed forth to char the landscape. At first he thought they were merely fresh flames as before, but as he looked on, they coalesced, focused, narrow now into wicked beams of golden light. Five pillars in all each, lashing out wildly, unable to be truly controlled through sheer force alone. He dove into the fray, determined to bridge the gap, only for one to strike him in the chest, sundering his armor to launch him back, yet unable to pierce the flesh beneath.
This time he was ready to counter.
Slamming his axe to the ground and raised both hands, conjuring a Rasenshuriken to each.
He raised his voice to be heard over the telltale growl of his attack.
"Don't try to block this!"
The Drgonlord spat five beams of golden light at him in return. "You do not command me!"
Rather than dodge like any sane warrior, he waited until the attack was nearly upon him. The last second, now.
Ah, well. He'd warned him.
When he let them fly, the twin jutsu cut through light and lightning alike, arcing unerringly towards their would-be-victim. Placidusax didn't heed his warning; before, he tried to intercept it with several of his heads and his teeth besides, no doubt wishing to repeat his earlier success.
Foolish, foolish dragon.
He paid dearly.
With blood.
The Rasenshuriken was not the same as Rasengan. Smaller perhaps, but sharper, more focused, unparalleled in sheer destructive power. When slammed into one's foe -as he'd first done so long ago- it not only attacked the body on a cellular level, but also created a devastating explosion. Yet when thrown as he had just now...
...well, just ask his enemies.
Those who survived.
Oh, wait...
Pride cometh before the fall and Placidussax paid most dearly for his; in an instant he lost two heads. Three now, as the second attack crashed through his many necks to slash by and detonate in the wilds beyond. What little remained thumped down wetly at his feet.
Had he dedicated all his heads to intercepting the jutsu, he might've perished then and there.
As it were, he Dragonlord reeled back bleeding badly, curling on himself, howling in pain. "How...?!"
Naruto tutted. "I did warn you not to block...any last words?"
Most foes would've given up then and there. Catching himself with a cracked claw, the Dragonlord spat golden blood and loomed large, wings flaring. Lightning crackled through the forlorn sky overhead, and with it a fresh frisson of excitement of excitement tore through him. Even down three heads and wounded all over once more, Placidusax still loomed defiantly. Steam parted his cracked and crumbling jaws.
"So be it...
The heavens darkened above.
A crackled of red light was his only warning.
Placidusax spread his mangled wings with a yowl and raised his remaining claw high. He glimpsed the dragon's ultimate attack then; crimson lightning manifested in a toweringly twisted spear, one he immediately brought crashing down into the ground, rupturing the earth. It shimmered and crackled there furiously, ready to erupt at the slightest provocation. An ominous hum filled the air with its planting, sending sparks of skittering scarlet shooting outward. Great gusts of wind came hurdling across the plains, growing stronger with each passing moment, whipping the long grass back and his hair with them.
'That's much better," he mused. 'I can actually feel that...
"GODFREY!" Placidussax reared back with one last sonorous snarl, bleeding heavily from his wounds, but undaunted to the last. "You have underestimated the truest of dragons for the last time!" his jaws parted, producing one last laugh to rattle his bones. "Now, if you really want to test your strength, stay right where you are!"
Kurama absolutely hissed. "Don't you dare. He's trying to provoke you into challenging his attack."
Of course he was. Even a blind man could see that. And yet...
...even so...
.
..
...the challenge excited him.
Stepping forward to place himself between Marika's vantage point and the angry dragon, he stowed his axe, planted his feet, then spread his arms wide. "...don't disappoint me."
Placidussax chuckled one last time. "I expected nothing less from you! Very well! Embrace oblivion!"
The Dragonlord reared back and brought his claw crashing down atop the spear.
A cataclysmic explosion followed, bringing heat and death on a scale he'd never experienced before. Even the mighty meteors of Madara paled in comparison. The blast churned up the ground with all the speed of lightning to devour everyone and everything; the very world burst into red light, taking all sight and sound with it. As he'd expected. Yes, at long last. Here was something that could actually hurt him...!
Naruto gazed headlong into the all-encompassing explosion without fear.
At the last moment, an absolutely feral grin tore across his face.
Finally, he began to snicker, chuckle, then outright cackle.
He was still laughing as he vanished into the light.
Upon My Name.
A/N: Oh gods, he's gone berserk.
This battle officially concludes next chapter!
Hope you're looking forward to it! Would you like weekly updates? Do let me know~!
As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, as such, I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
Aaaand there we go. As ever, reviews keep me alive. Without them, I cannot write. So...in the Immortal Words of Atlas...
...Review...Would You Kindly? Not a lot of previews this time!
Can't keep giving things away as I've been.
But I can whet your appetite.
(Preview)
"GODFREY! DEFILER OF MINE SISTER! SHOW YOURSELF!"
Marika's blood ran cold in her very veins. This couldn't be happening.
All her perfect plans, the happy new life she'd built for herself, free of her past...!
Everything balanced on a knife's edge; for below her, the Twin Moon Knight's rampage through Leyndell persisted.
"Rellana? What is she doing here...?"
Godfrey craned his neck, made curious. "You know her?"
No. No, no. No, no, no. He mustn't find out about her failure; the source of her shame. She couldn't allow it...!
The Eternal Queen looked away from him quickly. Too quickly by half. He noticed. "I may be acquainted with her."
"MOTHER OF MESSMER! SHOW THYSELF! NOW!"
"Who is Messmer?"
That tore it. Marika absolutely hissed.
"Excuse me, mine consort. I need to commit a murder...
~Nz.
R ~!
