I Have a Bold Idea

Upon hearing the human mage called Marchis describe the so-called 'Crown of Dominance,' Drake felt a surge of interest. The mere ability to 'dominate angels' would make it an object of intense desire.

In this world, angels were not creations of the gods but a rare and powerful race from the upper planes, beloved by many gods for their innate sense of justice and purity, serving as divine messengers.

Just imagine: wielding the 'Crown of Dominance' to control an angel, watching the defiance fade from their pure eyes, their pristine wings tarnished by corruption—a fantasy many would find irresistible, and a twisted game demons would revel in.

Such acts of twisting wills were abhorrent to human morality, but Drake was no longer human. He was a dragon, and in dragon ethics, indulgence ruled. It was why dragons were synonymous with abducting princesses and epitomizing evil in human tales.

'It's a pity the 'Crown of Dominance' seems damaged, capable only of 'dominating humans' and projecting a 'fear aura' now.'

Drake felt a twinge of disappointment but quickly composed himself. After all, he had no angels at hand, and even if the crown could still control them, it would be of no use to him at the moment. Instead, the ability to 'dominate humans' and the 'fear aura' were more practical for his current needs.

As a dragon still in his infancy, conserving the godly core's divine energy was imperative. While saving that power, he needed to arm himself and grow stronger. The 'fear aura' would compensate for his fledgling dragon's weak presence and intimidating effect.

The 'dominate human' spell might only affect humans below the seventh rank, and the duration of control varied with their strength, but in battle, even a few seconds of domination could be deadly.

More so, Drake mused that this ability might prove incredibly useful back on Earth, where humans lacked magical ranks. As an eighth-tier spell, 'dominate human' could effortlessly eliminate anyone below the seventh rank daily without expending any magic—making the 'Crown of Dominance' exceptionally practical.

And if the crown could one day be restored to its former glory, Drake wouldn't mind seeking out a beautiful angel to serve his baser needs. He wondered which deity had created such a tool for controlling angels and chuckled at the divine boredom implied. Not even gods could easily craft artifacts.

With these thoughts, Drake picked up the crown with his claw, only to fret over its fit. Designed for human-sized beings, it seemed useless for a dragon. But as he carelessly placed the crown upon his head, it magically resized to fit him perfectly.

'Only a former artifact could be this adaptive...'

Drake marveled and wagged his tail, still twined with the holy sword he'd pilfered. Though he was clueless about its use, he sensed its potent might. As a true artifact of incredible power, even random swings could unleash formidable force. Treasuring it as his most prized possession, Drake naturally carried it wherever he went.

"Marchis, I have a task for you..."

Drake's gaze returned to the obsequious human mage, his voice rich and deep.

"Your faithful servant awaits your command, great Galakrond," Marchis replied with an ingratiating bow.

...

General Nimue led a contingent of elves riding gryphons toward the now Dragon City, once called Central City.

The first sight that greeted her was the blackened remains of the city walls, the almost completely destroyed homes, and the weeping crowds amidst charred corpses. Fortunately, the dead had been mostly incinerated, reducing the risk of plague.

Magical remnants in the air revealed the dreadful spells that had been unleashed, and the destruction of the city's protective magic circles was complete.

The soldiers and people of the city looked upon the arriving elves with terror, fearing invasion just after surviving the dragon's wrath.

While elves were known for their peaceful ways, it didn't mean they shunned killing or war. If they hadn't understood these harsh realities, their race would've been eradicated in the continent's millennia of turmoil.

"Nimue, what should we do now? The dragon... it doesn't seem to have left."

A subordinate elf landed beside her, the uncertainty plain in his voice.

"The dragon's proclamation of lordship over this city must have reached your ears as well. He intends to claim it," Nimue said, her expression somber—a different outcome than she and the queen had anticipated.

"A dragon lord?" The elf stammered, the notion inconceivable. A dragon-governed city would soon become a ghost town, as dragons cared little for their subjects' livelihoods or even their survival.

"Seeing that the human soldiers have lost the will to fight, disperse in groups of ten and strive to prevent further chaos. I shall meet with this 'great dragon' myself."

Nimue's sharp gaze swept the city as she issued her orders.

"Please be careful, General Nimue. Dragons... aren't known for being reasonable."

The concern in the subordinate's voice was evident.

"I know... I'll stay humble," Nimue replied with a wry smile, reluctantly accepting the task of parleying with a creature whose whims could decide her fate.