The God of Chaos Awakens
The forces of the Red Dragon, led by the demigod Leviathan, had actually wrapped up the battle long ago. The moment the Red Dragon and Verinal's avatar revealed themselves.
—This...! No one said anything about blocking that too!
—We have to pull back! No point sticking around a place where anything could happen!
The grand mages dispatched from the Mage Tower bolted from the scene right away.
—Where, where do you think you're—Aaarrgh!!
—The, the mages are running—Guhk...!
Aidon stood no chance against the relentless aerial bombardment from the White Gold Dragons and Draconic Elves. From that point, the kingdom's collapse was swift and total. The soldiers crumbled without a fight.
—Don't touch the civilians. We'll need them as manpower eventually.
—Tch, fine. The Red Dragon said as much himself.
Under Einhardt's "mercy," the survivors could only gaze at the sky and offer prayers. Of course, the Red Dragon's own forces weren't all that different. Their clash showed no signs of ending. Amid the magical storm of fire, wind, snow, and rain, they watched the clashing shadows.
The wildly unstable mana flows. The blatantly perilous mana tempest. It was as if chaos itself had descended into the mortal world—a sight that kept even the victorious Red Dragon's army on edge.
A day passed, then two... then a full week. The massive "chaos" lingered unchanged, but Leviathan sensed it was finally starting to ebb.
"...I have to go check."
"Le, Leviathan! It could be dangerous—"
"—I need to see it with my own eyes. Whether he's alive or dead, what the hell happened. I can't just sit here waiting."
"B-but on land, you're honestly a lot weaker..."
"...Shut it. I'm a dragon too. If I die, I die. Not backing down from something like this."
"Then I'm coming too. Can't send you alone—"
"—Elenoa, you'll die if you go in there. No telling what could happen without protection."
"..."
"So I go alone. White Gold Dragons, hold position here. If the Red Dragon and I don't come back... Meirina, you'll have to lead them."
"...Got it."
"...Understood."
No matter that she was a sea dragon, she still had scales like any true dragon. That gave her enough magic resistance to brave the chaos. With that, she swiftly shifted to her true form and plunged inside.
Stinging lightning grazed her scales. She inhaled air that seared her lungs like fire while freezing them solid, pushing toward the center as best she could. The chaos tormented her all the more fiercely.
[Guh! Red Dragon, what the hell is going on in here...?!]
It choked her breath, clawed at her scales, tore into her flesh. Amid the whirlwind of agony, she pressed on relentlessly. After covering a distance roughly the size of a city...
[...!]
She spotted something ahead. The being known as the red dragon of chaos, calamity, and apocalypse. But to her... now simply her "king." There he lay, coiled up and slumped against the ground.
[Re, Red...! Red Dragon...!!]
She dragged her body closer. From afar, he looked utterly drained. His mana reserves depleted, not a twitch from him. Maybe he was dead. Maybe she'd never see him again. Fighting back the whirlwind of fears in her mind, she closed the distance.
[Red—!]
Finally, she reached him. Up close, she could see him clearly.
—Thump, thump.
[...]
[...Ah, aaa.]
Relief washed over her. Tears of relief streamed down as she confirmed it. He was alive. Just exhausted. Nothing more. Deep in slumber, exactly like he always was atop his golden hoard.
[...You did well. And... thank you.]
[...]
So she wrapped her serpentine body around him, gently shielding him from the chaos. Letting him sleep soundly. Giving him a moment to rest.
Meanwhile, in the gods' sanctuary, the Pantheon.
"Arghhh...! No! Impossible! Me, I lost?! To that wretched red dragon...!!?"
Verinal vented his outrage, reliving the battle. This went beyond mere unfairness. That fight had cost him dearly. As a major god with overflowing divinity from countless followers, it had all been funneled straight into the Red Dragon's maw and absorbed. And Aidon's faithful?
They'd flipped to the Red Dragon's banner. The continent's most populous, most powerful kingdom—Aidon itself—now flowed into his grasp. It was an unprecedented, history-shattering defeat since the world's creation.
"...Haa, lost in the end."
Beul rubbed her temples watching him. Born a god from the start, Verinal wouldn't plummet to the mortal realm or anything. But his rank—from the pinnacle major god, lording over the vast domains of life and magic—had crashed to a mere minor god. For Beul, who managed death like a sibling to life, it was just a sigh.
'His domains are probably intact. Given time, he'll reclaim his power. But... whether the other gods see it that way?'
Major gods commanded legions of mid and minor gods beneath them. Verinal's downfall was a seismic shift in the Pantheon's power balance. For Beul, who craved the natural order undisturbed, it was anything but welcome.
"It was foreordained, Verinal. So do your damn job properly. No more pointless stirring."
"I can't accept this. How could a mere mortal defeat me, the god of life?!"
"...Haa, I already told you. The Red Dragon's started accumulating divinity. And you thought an avatar would suffice?"
Beul shot a glance at the scheming gods lurking in the Pantheon's corners, all vultures pondering how to carve up Verinal and expand their own domains.
"Oh? You lot think the current Verinal's ripe for the taking?"
"...As if, O Death God. We were merely observing out of curiosity as to what transpired."
"Pray you don't make hasty moves. I know full well the havoc you'd wreak."
With that, Beul drew her scythe—a verdant blade that promised death on contact. Enough to scatter those minor and mid gods on sight. Her idea of a threat.
'...This is maddening. The gods of theft and murder baring their fangs. I hate how much there is to think about now.'
Why had this fool picked an unwinnable fight? She'd left him to it, knowing he'd dig in his heels anyway. But to get crushed this badly by the Red Dragon? Part of her wondered if offing Verinal right here and waiting for a new life god might be less stressful.
'...Haa. But the mortal world would descend into chaos until a successor rose.'
Obviously, that wasn't an option. She needed a plan. Turning, she surveyed the Pantheon.
"Oh? Our goddess of death seems troubled!"
The fire god Orddin—father of all dwarves, who'd arguably gained the most from the Red Dragon's triumph—tilted his goblet her way.
"Hoo... No troubles on your end? You're having quite the time, fire god."
"Haha! My sons pulled off a glorious feat after ages—how could I not? Though pity they had to grovel to the Red Dragon!"
Orddin set his goblet down with purpose, and Beul naturally perked up.
"So, what's your plan for the Red Dragon?"
"...? What do you—"
Beul blanked for a second before grasping his implication. Her headache intensified.
"—Ah...!"
"He's earned minor god status fair and square! Time to bring him into the Pantheon, no?"
Victory over Verinal's avatar—a feat eclipsing all his prior exploits. A mortal born in the material world, fated to die there, had bested a god. He'd crossed into divinity as a minor god. No longer mortal. Just one oddity: he still hadn't shown up at the Pantheon.
Orddin had zeroed in on exactly that.
"...I'll look into it. No one reliable around anyway."
"Heh, fair enough. Selloir's gone AWOL too, huh?"
"Tch, that one's moves are impossible to predict... No helping it."
With that, their gazes drifted downward. To their followers' world. To where the Red Dragon slumbered.
Meanwhile, atop the golden hoard on Hyahir Mountain.
[...Umm.]
He opened his eyes. But something felt off. For one, this wasn't where he'd closed them. He'd blacked out in that sightless hell, chomping on that vermin avatar. So why was he back in his lair? And why was his head pillow so damn soft?
'...? What? Something squishy—'
Turning toward the odd sensation...
[...Zzz.]
There was a very familiar presence. Leviathan, coiled around the Red Dragon like a snake binding fresh prey. In her true form, glued right to him.
[...?]
The moment he tried shaking her off in bewilderment, he felt it. Something had changed. His body, heart, joints, muscles, veins. Every part felt alien. And with it came a savage impulse. An urge to incinerate everything before him—or shield it all. Duality tore through his mind.
It was... chaos. Protection and destruction. Vengeance and forgiveness. A tangle of clashing sensations and emotions.
He hadn't awakened as the Red Dragon. As chaos... as the "God of Chaos."
Right there, atop Hyahir's golden hoard.
What the hell is this...?
...Of course, he had no clue.