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Druid?

A good man dies and is sent into another world- Well, he is killed in cold blood just because of who he was, a sad reality. There, he is adopted by someone- Discovers secrets of that world, and slowly realizes that he is not where he think he is. -Author note- This novel is gay- If you haven't read my damn name yet! This is for gay people- Heterosexuals stay away, treat this novel like drugs and don't do it. Now my gays, you can stay, i plead you to stay my dear gays. [This fic contains spoilers of my [Son of the Night] fic! Go read that one first if you want.

DaoOfGay · 其他
分數不夠
67 Chs

Chapter 54: (3/3)

[We have to deal with her, dear, only then can this truly end.] Whispered upon his mind the voice of his beloved lover, Mokzaxirrathan, who knew very well Náttúrumaður couldn't nor wouldn't resist to his lovely words- Even when the words are about how he wanted his help to kill a God that destroyed the lives of many including his lover's dear family that is technically alive albeit they don't know how to save them. [I'll always be by your side, dear.] Náttúrumaður's asnwer was more than natural in his eyes, after all, they were together and will be together as long as they keep loving each other, so he'll naturally always support his decisions- Even though he won't support every single decision he makes, he'll support most of them.

[Follow me, dearest.] Náttúrumaður was already following him- From below, the army looked at the sky as the majestic and enormous Forest Dragon with wings with cherry blossom leaves as feathers, bark-like scales and green eyes that reflected the aspect of life within the forests, he was a force to be reckoned with and they all saw it, because as he flew above them- Every single hurt mortal started to heal, enemy or allie, started to simply heal from their wounds in an instant! This was Náttúrumaður's Divine Aura that would heal most ailments, except death itself since Nátt would need to focus on it to bring someone back from the dead.

It was something amazing, the whole battlefield stopped as they felt inner peace- The first timr they stopped was because of fear, and now they stopped because of this sudden feeling of peace that colonized their hearts and souls, they did not wish to fight anymore at that single moment- But then that feeling went away as fast as it came, and they returned to battle- A particular soldier stood tall in the battlefield as grasping vines grew from his feet up his arms, said vines had thick and strong thorns that impaled his skin, but he didn't care!

It was beautiful because roses bloomed from his blood, and as he danced through the battlefield with his long spear, petals bloomed and and each time they touched an injury of an ally, they healed said ally, and when they touched an enemy, they turned into fire and burned their skins.

That day a new powerhouse was born.

Regardless of mortals, the two draconic Gods flew towards whete they knew Tiamat would be- Not only they felt her divine aura, but also their heard her roars of terrifying pain and agony, probably the whole entire battlefield heard it at this point! On the way, they were stopped by the rest of the Chromatic Knights of Tiamat, well, what was left of them- Pathetically destroyed versions of themselves, the knights had broken armor and weapons, the dragons were injuried creatures that were berely alive, flapping their wings with great effor just to fly near to them. [Oh, how pitiful...] Náttúrumaður whispered as he watched how they desperately tried to be alive, while Náttúrumaður had pity, Mokzaxirrathan had pride in their effort- They were true warriors, who would never bow down to the enemy.

[They deserve mercy, don't they?] The calmly whispering words of his beloved, however, made him think about how he could swiftly end their suffering without pain- They might be the enemy, but even they had suffered through so muh- Grey Knight, Green Knight, Yellow Knight, and Purple Knight jumped off of their dragons with broken weapons and broken dreams, never with broken hope and determination, to try and stab or damage the fragile-looking bark that were in fact Náttúrumaður's scales. [Oh, how convinient?] Even though dragons don't have lips, Mokza knew Nátt was smiling, he sighed as he dealt with the rest of the knights while Náttúrumaður dealt with the ones who attacked him by a rather unique way- They became red petals that scattered in the wind.

It was both a beautiful and dreadful scene- The knights alongside their dragons simply turned into flower petals in the blink of an eye! Like it was as simple as snapping your finger, from their scales to their very bones, they scattered across the battlefield as the wind blew them away.

[Such a dreadful day

Such a beautiful sight

Such a glorious display

Such all Enemies you fright] Mokza's little poem was sudden, but Nátt enjoyed it because it was about him- Yggdrasil, the giant Treant in the battlefield suddenly turned to look towards the south as a sea of roots and vines raised themselves to act as a shield and block whatever was coming, they only had a few moment to react before there was an- *boom* Well, explosion!

"[THEE THAT ~SLAY~ MY CHILDREN!]" Nine voices hissed in agony and anger, the army below just squinted their eyes as the dust from the explosion was blown away by the flapping of the majestic and terrifying nine wings of the Goddess before them- Tiamat, with nine different heads, each head with different colors, with nine wings, each wing with a different color, and with nine tails, each tail with a different color. Her presence was abnormal and heavy, like gravity just increased just by being in her presence! [Your time has come, Tiamat! I, Mokzaxirrathan Grimspeaker, shall avenge my family] Even though he did not say those words, every living being in this battlefield could hear it- Damn, maybe even the dead?

"[Grimspeaker~!? Oh! You're the child who became a monster!]" There was a cruel laughter to her voice, and Náttúrumaður knew she was being intentionally deeply cruel because Náttúrumaður had to assure his beloved Mokza that he was, in fact, not a monster so many times that even though the man doubted him a little, he appreciated the gesture and started to believe him.

Before Mokzaxirrathan could say anything, a large root charged at the one head that said shuch thing, the white head, and with a sickening crunching sound, the head twisted by the sheer force of the root strike that soon pulled itself back, bringing alongside it a decapitated head by sheer force of impact.

[You should shut your mouth- No one talks about my husband like that.] Náttúrumaður was just a little bit angry.

-Author Notes-

I thought i had posted it yesterday- Turns out i didn't. Sorry~