Chapter 124: The Return of the King (1/2)
Breathing heavily, Vainqueur raised his hands and unleashed his magic for the sixtieth time. “[Terraform: Landmass]!”
His power spread across the desert beneath his and his minions’ feet; but instead of green grass, the sand transformed into bright, multi-colored sugar. A hill of cream appeared to his left, a chocolate lake to his right. Candy flowers bloomed across the land, next to licorice trees and cake boulders.
In a few seconds, the area had transformed into a baker’s paradise.
You have transformed the [Desert] field into a [Candyland] field! You increased local [Diabetes] rates!
Cooking-based abilities will be greatly enhanced—
“How?!” Vainqueur complained, interrupting the notification. “How does this keep happening?!”
He had been trying to make the desert green for hours, only to make it multicolored!
The dragon glanced at the previous transformed landscape behind him, a patchwork of floating islands, snowy mountains, metal tinfoil dungeons, and other aberrations. Worse, not once had he managed to create a golden land worthy of his rule!
“Obviously, Your Majesty’s [Unstable Magic] creates fields at random,” Untasty Allison declared, turning towards the other minions. “We had, what, thirty different types of fields so far?”
“In total, we have four [Lost Woods], three [Crystal Caverns], one [Magical Lake], two [Floating Islands], one [Gear Factory], two [Onsen], one [Grave Canyon]...” Tasty Malfy kept reading a list, rejoicing at the next item on it, “one [Demonic Sanctuary]!”
“We are still unsure how the [Outer Space] and [Outremoon] nodes even work,” Corpseling Jules added.
“Your Majesty, this cannot continue,” Untasty Allison argued. “The local climate will be in complete chaos!”
“Rolo happy with this,” the farmer replied, opening the sugary ground to find mochi growing inside it. “Rolo can work this land!”
“Our citizens would welcome more environmental types,” Corpseling Jules said. “But I agree with Allison. Adding so many different fields next to one another will create ecological problems in the future.”
“I shall not stop,” Vainqueur decided. “I said I would not stop until I have kicked the desert out of my empire, and I will not compromise!”
Not even in the face of so many cakes!
“Your Majesty, I understand the sentiment, I truly do,” Untasty Allison kept arguing. “But what will happen if an [Acid Lake] causes poisonous rain to spread through the [Slime Paradise] and [Gear Factory] nearby? We cannot control the entire ecosystem!”
“Manling Victor can,” the dragon replied, trusting his chief of staff to handle the boring minion parts. “He will do the thing.”
“Oh, good idea,” Corpseling Jules nodded. “With his [Weathermaker] levels, he could create magical weather conditions.”
“But [Control Weather] has only a limited duration,” Allison pointed out.
“Not if [Permanent Enchantment] effects are applied,” the ghoul replied. “He should be of a high enough tier to cast this.”
“That’s how our Corporate Overlords covered up climate change,” Malfy added.
“And once more, I want to remind everyone that there is no scientific proof that releasing necrotic magic in the atmosphere negatively impacts the environment,” Corpseling Jules said.
The dryad raised a finger, lowered it, and then realized that Vainqueur’s logic could not be argued with. “High-tier magic is absurd.”
“The universe bends to my imperial will!” the dragon declared loudly, swallowing his [SPeroid] barrel before wiping off the liquid from his mouth. “Next!”
Victor had missed TV so much. And Seng had a full-size plasma-screen one!
“... and this is why no Princess Hunter goes hunting in the cold north without camouflage,” Grandrake explained behind the screen, as he stalked a group of giants while hidden beneath a cover of snow. Why the dragon was talking to himself remained a mystery, but it made for good television. “If I make a wrong move, they will notice my warm breathing and attack. For Ice Giant princesses are half-knight, half-giant... one hundred percent princess!”
“Wow, I didn’t think ice giants even existed in this world, let alone had princesses,” Victor noted, sharing a sofa with Seng. Both slouched over it like slobs, a glass of alcohol in hand, and the remains of a fish pizza in a corner of the room.
“Democratic climate change destroyed their natural habitat,” Seng said.
“Aren’t you the goddess of revolutions and freedom though?” Victor asked, curious. “Why are you watching a show about saving outdated monarchies from extinction?”
“Guilty pleasure,” Seng admitted. “I hate nobles, so I love watching Grandrake capture them.”
“Do you know that Vainqueur saved me from most of his current ‘wildlife reserve’?” Victor smiled. “He put them in a bag like candies!”
“A bag?” Seng laughed.
“And then he tried to call a dragon veterinarian!”
The two exchanged their outlandish stories about their adventures in Outremonde, from Victor’s escape from the Loli House to Seng helping aliens after a UFO traffic crash. “... and he tried to pay for the damage with seashells!”
“Really?” Victor couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s hilarious!”
“Yeah, the town was never the same after that Lightning Gun Mexican standoff,” the mermaid said. “I think it’s where the Moon Man got the Chaos part of his portfolio. Then there was a big pillar of light and poof, Valhalla time for him.”
“And he was still high when he ascended?” Victor asked while looking into his cocktail glass, Seng nodding while restraining tears of hilarity. Damn, it made his own drug trip look restrained in comparison. “Also, is it me, or is the alcohol working? I’m supposed to be immune to this stuff.”
“Not in my planar realm, you aren’t!” The goddess and the Vizier toasted. “Where the Hell were you, best slime?”
“Happyland,” Victor replied. “And where were you, best mermaid?”
“Now come on, don’t be a corporate sellout,” she laughed, before looking a bit sad. “I don’t get it. How do the other gods get so many nice followers to hang out with?”
“What do you mean?” Victor frowned, “Aren’t you, like super popular already?”
“No, I’m just before Sablar and the Moonies, and tied with Isengrim!” Seng grumbled. “Yeah, Camilla is sexy and brooding, with that outsider charm, but come on, Mithras? He doesn’t have a stick up his ass, but a spear! So why does every twoleg love him?”
“Well, I gotta hand it to Mithras,” Victor said, even if he doubted they would ever get along. “He showed up to personally defend one Claimed when he probably has a dozen more important tasks to deal with. I don’t remember Dice ever doing the same for me.”
Maybe he was stern and stiff, but Mithras clearly cared about helping people. Victor respected that.
“I’m trying to help too!” Seng complained. “I’m trying, but I always screw up!”
“Your Godliness,” Victor said, identifying her problem. “You can’t make people believe in you if you don’t believe in yourself first.”
She looked at him, as he had casually delivered an ancient universal secret.
“What you need, Your Godliness, is someone constantly reminding you of how amazing and caring you truly are,” Victor said, remembering Vainqueur’s lesson about raising young wyrms. “Until greatness becomes second nature to you. You ‘screw-up,’ and I use the term loosely, because you believe that you will.”
“But—”
“Your Godliness.” He put his glass out on the sofa’s side, took her hands in his own, and looked at her straight in the eyes. “Believe in yourself... for I believe in you.”
She became so red, he could almost see the steam coming out of her forehead.
Charisma check successful!
How does licking boots taste like? Because she has eight legs!
“Victor…” Seng trailed, one of her tentacles brushing against his thigh.
If she asks “Do you like Hentai?” I’m teleporting out.
“Do you want to be my prophet?”
Oh, thank Dice! “Yes!” Victor hurriedly responded before she changed her mind and asked for something obscene; he was drunk enough to accept the job. “But, full disclosure, I already serve half the pantheon and Vainqueur.”
“I know, being a prophet is like being a sidekick,” Seng said, apparently too drunk to realize the insensitivity of her words. “You have a lot of experience!”
He felt something burn against his thigh, where Seng had brushed against him. A new symbol probably.
Congratulations! You earned the [Claimed by Seng] personal perk.