The skies above were streaked with lightning, a sinister omen that made the courtiers in Valzaroth's fortress tremble. The Black Emperor of Desires, now a living legend, had transformed from a slave incubus into a sovereign feared by angels, demons, and yokai alike...
Yet, a new threat loomed: Tiamat, the primordial dragon, a chaos entity whose power rivaled the gods. Rumors of her wrath had reached Valzaroth, and he knew the time for conflict was near.
In the council chamber, a cavern of black marble adorned with skulls of enemies, Valzaroth gathered his lieutenants. Seraphine, his lover and strategist, stood at his right, her silver armor accentuating her athletic body, her black wings folded, her green eyes scanning a map. Venelana Gremory, at his left, radiated in a purple gown, her auburn hair cascading, her amethyst eyes sparkling with intelligence. Ashka, the kitsune bodyguard...
"Tiamat," Seraphine said, her voice raspy, pointing to a volcanic region on the map. "Scouts say she's awakened in the Ignis Mountains. She sees your empire as an insult, Val. A slave turned emperor? It drives her mad."
Valzaroth chuckled, leaning back on his throne, an arrogant smile on his lips. "Mad?" he replied, his deep voice vibrating with pride. "Let her come. I'll shatter her scales like I shattered the angels."
Venelana, her fingers playing with an auburn strand, raised an eyebrow. "Don't be too sure," she murmured, her voice smooth yet serious. "Tiamat isn't a demon or an angel. She's a primordial dragon, older than the underworld. She's destroyed kingdoms before you were born."
Ashka, her tails twitching, growled: "She's massive, Val. Lilithara's scouts described her as: five heads, wings that block out the sun, claws that pulverize stone. If she attacks Nethervale, we're in for it."
Valzaroth stood, his commanding presence silencing the room. "Then we don't wait for her," he declared, his scarlet eyes blazing. "If Tiamat wants my head, I'll give her a fight she'll never forget. Prepare the defenses. She's coming."
...
Tiamat, the primordial dragon, was an entity born at the edges of chaos, before the underworld took shape. Her five heads—each embodying an element (fire, ice, lightning, poison, shadow)—symbolized her dominion over creation. Her black scales, harder than obsidian, shimmered like dead stars, her membranous wings capable of eclipsing the sun.
Her eyes, a kaleidoscope of colors, burned with ancient intelligence and unquenchable rage. Tiamat had seen empires rise and fall, her claws tearing apart gods who dared challenge her. She ruled the Ignis Mountains, a volcanic realm where lava flowed like rivers, her treasures—ancient artifacts, imprisoned souls—guarded jealously.
To Tiamat, order was an offense. Civilizations, with their laws and thrones, were chains she broke without remorse. When Valzaroth, a slave incubus, began unifying the underworld under his banner,
Tiamat awakened from her millennia-long slumber. She despised his rise, seeing it as an affront to the anarchy she embodied. Rumors of his conquests—territories seized from angels, demons, and yokai—fueled her fury. "A worm pretending to be a god," she roared, her multiple voices echoing through the Ignis Mountains. She decided to destroy Nethervale, Valzaroth's stronghold, to remind the world that no one could defy primordial chaos.
Tiamat took flight, her colossal wings casting storms of ash. Her five heads roared, spewing fire, ice, and poison, her claws tearing through clouds. The land trembled beneath her, villages collapsing into ruins. At Nethervale, sentinels sounded the alarm, the skies darkening as Tiamat approached, a living mountain ready to consume all.
The walls of Nethervale vibrated under Tiamat's roars, her five heads illuminating the night sky. The fortress, an obsidian colossus, was under siege, its rune-carved cannons firing blasts of energy. Valzaroth, atop the highest tower, wielded his halberd, his black lightning crackling like obsidian serpents. His rune-etched armor gleamed, his muscles taut, his scarlet eyes burning with defiance. Seraphine, by his side, commanded the archers, her sword at the ready. Venelana summoned violet flames, reinforcing the magical defenses. Ashka, her nine tails glowing, led the yokai units, her blue flames lighting the walls.
Tiamat landed, her claws pulverizing a wall, debris flying like shards of glass. Her heads roared—fire, ice, lightning, poison, shadow—unleashing an elemental storm. A salvo of flames incinerated a tower, soldiers screaming, their flesh melting. Valzaroth, laughing like a madman, leaped, his black lightning tearing through spacetime.
The dark energy, more powerful than ever, opened a rift, and he teleported, reappearing on Tiamat's back, his halberd plunging into her scales. Black blood spurted, but the scales, hard as steel, resisted.
"Miserable insect!" Tiamat's heads roared, their multiple voices shaking the ground. The fire head spewed a storm of flames, but Valzaroth teleported again, the black lightning opening another rift, reappearing a hundred meters away, avoiding the inferno. He summoned a storm of lightning, the dark energy striking the ice head, shattering a horn, blood gushing like a fountain. Tiamat howled, her tail sweeping, destroying a wing of the fortress, debris crashing in a thunderous crash.
Seraphine, on the walls, sliced through a poison jet, her sword gleaming, her wings propelling her into the air. "Val, aim for the eyes!" she shouted, dodging a bolt from the lightning head. Venelana unleashed a wave of violet flames, burning Tiamat's wings, the flesh blistering. Ashka, her blue flames enveloping her claws, slashed the tail, tearing off scales, black blood splattering her armor.
Valzaroth, teleporting again, appeared near the shadow head, his halberd aiming for an eye. The weapon pierced, the eye exploding in a spray of black fluid, Tiamat roaring in pain. "You're bleeding, dragon!" he shouted, his voice vibrating with arrogance. He teleported, avoiding a bite from the poison head, reappearing on a wall, summoning another lightning storm. The dark energy tore through space, striking the fire head, carbonizing a jaw, bones cracking like dry wood.