To say the Ogres were upset when they came in range of the hill was an understatement. Not only did they find their eternal nemesis the Trolls on defense, but they damnable creatures were also singing and dancing as they waited.
The sight of the carefree Trolls infuriated the Ogre General leading the charge, making him abandon all pretense of following the carefully developed strategy his allies had come up with. But where were they anyhow? He was supposed to be second to arrive, crushing the defenses from the rear while they were occupied. If the others didn't even show up, they have no right to complain if he stops to kill the Trolls.
Satisfied with the genius of his new plan, the General sends everything he has against the Trolls, ignoring the enormous Granite Elementals and the walls lined with Lamia entirely. Vala and her Wrath Bringers dash forward to join Nila's Trolls, letting the front lines of Ogres crash against them.
Cain is able to locate the command section of the Ogres quickly from his vantage above the battlefield and calls for the others to stay back and give him room to fight. Opening his mouth to prepare a wave of fire for the Ogres, Cain marvels at the feeling of wind across these golden scales and the rumbling echo of his roar through the forest.
Being a Dragon is an incredible experience that he can only wish more transfers would experience. Even the Ogre General looks terrified at his presence, ordering his rock throwers to stop pelting the Lamia and turn their attention to the incoming Dragon.
Sure that he is finally in range for a breath attack, Cain releases a wall of flame as he passes over the Ogres, the combination of intense heat and the extra damage granted by Might of Many scorching the path until all that remains is a shallow lake of molten rock. It was everything he had hoped for and more. With a single exhale, everthing he passed over was dead. Killed without raising a finger.
As much fun as that was, Cain is still eager to try out an actual attack, so he lands just short of the General, swiping across his chest with a claw, reducing the mighty Ogre to chunks of meat piled unceremoniously on the ground, sizzling in the heat of the lava.
Can swings his head in a lazy Arc, incinerating hundreds of Ogres and expanding his lake of fire. In seconds he's created a massive hellscape of smoke and lava, a sight that brings a bout of spontaneous joy to his Dragon hormone-influenced mind.
"Watch where you point that. The lava isn't a spell effect, and it melts anything it touches." An irate Vala yells at him as he admires his handiwork.
"Sorry, I'll be more careful next time. I didn't get you too badly, did I?"
"I'm fine, but Nemu has some scorched fur. You'll be hearing about that later." Yes, he certainly will. The aroma of burnt fur lingers, and Nemu has a very keen sense of smell.
Most of the Dragons and Seraphim have returned as they argue, so Cain orders Danni to freeze the molten rock and cool the area to a more tolerable level before it gets unreasonably hot out here.
"Is that what they meant by an Ancient Quality Dragon? I always thought it referred to age or a specific Era. But maybe it meant the species. The fire breath is insane." Vala muses, tapping the cooling ground with the toe of her boot.
"Extra damage from a skill shouldn't increase the temperature, so a Golden Proto Dragon would have been able to melt rock with its breath. The Dwarves would love you." Danni agrees with her assessment.
Laura lands beside him to give her a report, concern visible in the tense way she stands. "Both forces are eliminated, but they spoke of themselves as a vanguard force, so more will be coming. Have Misha and Mythryll found anything?"
"We did. And it's bad news. The gnomes were developing a collection of magical bioweapons underground here. The weapon is gone, but they left the development notes." Misha calls from the hill, the voices of the Dragons carrying easily to her ears.
"That explains the intensity of the attack. Did it say who all they were targeting? This Battle should have been long before the war between the races if you read about it in Muzz. Who was targeted who and who supported them might give us an idea of what to expect."
"According to the research, it was supposed to be used to drive the Frost Giants from the Eastern and Central Continents." Did they actually use it then? These days Frost Giants are only found on the Western Continent.
If the enemies are likely to all be Giants and related species, then it is best if they're kept well away from the hill. Their size and weight might damage the underground facilities and cause them to fail the defense and lose out on experience.
Tripled Dragons mean six copies of Su to each of the ten Kone-based supporters and an excessive number of Drakes, enough that they're blocking out the sunlight overhead. But that also means each supporter can lead a patrol with only Danni to accompany them.
"Kone, take your summons, and each of you can fly a patrol pattern around the hill. It's a dungeon, so there shouldn't be any friendly targets. When you find the enemy let everyone know and then do what you can to eliminate them. Danni, have your clones accompany them."
"Got it, boss. We'll clear up this giant infestation in no time at all."
Cain doesn't know how large this dungeon is. Most open-air dungeons offer pretty significant leeway though, being as much as fifty Kilometers across. Most do have visible boundaries though, and his Dragons should have found them already in the space was more limited.
Until they find the boundaries of the rest of the enemies, all he can do is wait.
Making a graceful glide through the air, Cain finds himself a comfortable spot on a landing pad and curls up to relax. Laura promptly wraps herself up beside him with a sigh while the Companions stare at the lazy Dragons.
"You're so warm and suspiciously soft. This is a good form." Laura sighs, snuggling in closer.
"Let's all have a nap then; the summons will wake us up if anything happens. Plus, I've got my assassins stationed inside the underground base to stop infiltration attempts." Nemu suggests, happy for any excuse to sleep somewhere warm, like on top of a non-ice element Dragon.
The position is so comfortable that they end up napping until a system notification comes through.
[Dungeon Clear. All enemies eliminated.]
[Calculating Experience]
"Does this even counts as a dungeon anymore? You can't just send a thousand Dragons out to kill everything while you nap and call it an actual dungeon run." Mythryll points out.
"So next time is Beastkin then?" Misha laughs, stretching in her position under Cain's wing joint.
"Next time, we're limiting total occupants. How are we supposed to create a real reenactment when you do things like that?" An unhappy young voice comes from in front of Cain's face.
"Oh, welcome back, girls. Meet Misha and Mythryll, my Guild members." Cain says to the Seraphim and Fallen Seraphim girls who have returned to yell at him.
"Greetings. But we worked hard at this and you didn't even take it seriously. It was such an epic battle scene too, when the Frost Giants charge the hill. The real defense team only lasted 44 minutes, not 18 hours like the Gnomes insist, before they ran away with the weapon, but still, it was epic."
"We could ban clones next time? That should make it fairer. Golden Proto Dragon form versus Frost Giants was a great call, though.
I'm looking forward to seeing what battle you get next time." Her dark-winged friend laughs before they both disappear and a very annoyed-looking Seraphim in a butler outfit appears.
"You just missed her," Cain tells the man with a nod of his head, and the butler frowns.
"My most sincere apologies for any inconvenience, Ancient." The butler nods back politely. Then, he too vanishes as if he was never there to begin with.
"Do you think they could do it? Ban clones in the dungeon?" Mythryll asks curiously about the abilities of the two mysterious girls.
"The first time I was here, I fought a Synthetic Seraphim they made. This time, they created a historical battle. I'd say they can exert quite a bit of control over the dungeons." Cain shrugs, his massive wings fanning the air. That reminds him to change back and release most of his summons, suddenly finding himself naked except for jewelry in front of everyone.
"Note to self. Dragon form unequips your armor."
Cain puts a pair of faded jeans and a tank top on with a pair of black boots, and Misha runs around behind him to look at the tattoos, probably to see if one of her is covered.
"It's gone. The tattoos have changed." She's right. They run to his wrists but stop low on his shoulders and don't touch his neck this time.
"That's just cool. A new look every time you transform. You still look like you, but you've got a stylish new haircut this time." Mythryll points out.
It seems this ability needs practice unless he's going to look slightly different every time he changes forms. He wasn't thinking of anything particular when he released the spell, which might be why his appearance changed slightly.
