Game Master in Another World

The next morning, we were jolted awake by frantic thumping on our door. Juliana lazily rolled out of bed to answer it. Archibald was standing in the hallway, his face pale and his expression deadly serious.

“They’ve begun the attack. You are needed immediately at the Southern Gate.”

Toby ran forward and clung tightly to Juliana’s side. “Please don’t leave me behind! I don’t want to be an orphan again.”

Juliana knelt down and gave him a reassuring, warm smile. “Don’t worry, Toby. I will return to you. For now, you must go to the Mage Tower and help Lady Evelyn. You will be safe there.”

Archibald nodded briskly. Gently but firmly, he took Toby’s arm and began leading him down the hallway. The boy's quiet, frightened crying grew fainter as they hurried away. My incorporeal heart ached for him, but the heavily fortified Mage Tower was the absolute safest place in the city right now.

Once they were gone, we rapidly strapped on our armour and layered our robes before sprinting out the door. The streets outside were absolute bedlam. Citizens were frantically running in every direction; militiamen in makeshift, mismatched armour were sprinting north, while terrified families fled toward the inner city. The frantic, overlapping ringing of several alarm bells added to the deafening cacophony.

Instead of fighting the crowds, Juliana simply jumped into the air, her physical form shrinking and shifting mid-leap until we became a tiny sparrow taking to the sky.

We flew rapidly toward the Southern Gate. From our aerial vantage point, the sheer scale of the disarray below was staggering. Beyond the city walls, the threat became devastatingly clear. A massive, undulating sea of Forlinth troops was slowly marching in our direction, towing several heavy siege engines into position. In stark contrast, our southern wall was manned by a terrifyingly thin line of defenders.

We swooped down and landed on a high watchtower where a Sergeant was frantically barking orders. Dropping the Wild Shape, we instantly shifted back into our tall Nhalyri form, badly startling the man.

“Ah! Good, I heard you were on the way,” the Sergeant stammered, quickly recovering his bearing. “We will be relying heavily on you. Instead of sending us extra siege weapons, troops, or arrows, command sent us crates of winter cloaks! It is the middle of summer! Those damn nobles will be the death of this city.”

I looked around. True to his word, there were large piles of heavy, fur-lined winter cloaks stacked in wooden crates all along the battlements. Several exhausted guards had even turned them into makeshift cushions to sit on while standing guard.

Good on you, Evelyn, I thought, genuinely impressed by the NPC's logistical foresight. She had executed our strategy perfectly.

Juliana grinned, a wild, elemental spark in her eyes. “You are about to need those winter cloaks.”

She looked up at the clear summer sky and began to chant a deep, echoing druidic incantation. Almost instantly, unnatural, black clouds began to violently gather and darken overhead, blotting out the morning sun. The temperature plummeted so rapidly I could see the guards' breath pluming in the air.

“Oh,” the Sergeant said, his mouth dropping agape as the first icy winds whipped across the stone tower.

“I see why we need the winter coats now...” He looked at Juliana with a sudden, panicked expression. “Please, keep it from getting any colder for just a bit longer! I need to distribute these coats to my men!”

He spun around and began frantically bellowing new orders to the nearby guards, who immediately scrambled to break open the crates and run the heavy cloaks down the length of the freezing wall.

After thirty minutes, most of the guards had bundled into their heavy winter coats, just in time for the enemy siege engines to begin their work. Several massive boulders arced through the air, crashing against the stone walls with deafening thuds. Thankfully, the fortifications continued to hold.

Juliana looked up to the darkened sky once more. The temperature plummeted further, and thick flecks of snow began to fall. The guards around us pulled their collars tight, shivering as they huddled into their fur-lined cloaks.

Gradually, the wind picked up into a ferocious gale. The snow fell faster and thicker, causing visibility to drop to a mere ten metres. The sound of the roaring blizzard howled deafeningly through the stone battlements.

The Sergeant pulled in close, having to scream over the gale. “Our ranged weapons are useless in this! How are we going to stop them from reaching the wall?!”

Juliana stepped back, holding steady eye contact with him. Channeling a massive surge of high-level magic, she bypassed the usual druidic beast forms and triggered a true shapechange. Our body rapidly expanded, gleaming scales erupting along our skin as we transformed into a colossal Platinum Dragon. The Sergeant staggered backward in sheer terror, and several guards near us outright broke rank and ran.

Pushing off the stone with massive, heavily muscled legs, we launched ourselves into the howling storm. We flew low over the snow-caked ground, heading straight for the enemy siege engines. Silencing the artillery was our first priority.

Below us, the Forlinth vanguard was struggling. Dressed in light uniforms suited for a summer campaign, they were freezing to death. They trudged slowly through the rapidly accumulating snowdrifts, every single step a monumental challenge.

Juliana opened her massive jaws and unleashed a devastating breath weapon—a blinding cone of pure radiant fire that washed over the formation. Horrific screams echoed through the blizzard as dozens of men were instantly incinerated. The lucky few who were spared looked up in absolute terror, scrambling backward and falling over into the snow.

Sweeping low over the next regiment, Juliana casually snatched two soldiers up in our razor-sharp talons. We carried them high into the turbulent air before simply releasing our grip. Their pitiful screams were quickly swallowed by the howling wind as they plummeted back to earth.

Tucking our wings, we went into a steep dive, spotting our first target through the whiteout: a massive wooden trebuchet. Juliana didn't even bother with magic. She used our sheer physical mass, crashing directly into the siege engine and shattering it in a single, devastating blow. Lethal splinters of heavy timber exploded outward like shrapnel, tearing through the terrified artillerymen.

Suddenly, the enemy mages retaliated. At least thirty glowing bolts of magical energy flew from the backlines, striking our platinum scales in rapid succession. I braced for the impact, but there was no pain. Our innate draconic spell resistance completely nullified the low-level magic.

Several large fireballs followed, detonating violently against our neck, wings, and feet. Again, we felt nothing more than a pleasantly warm breeze.

Juliana’s slit pupils locked onto the source of one of the fireballs. With a single beat of her wings, she closed the distance, diving straight at the enemy battle-mage. I saw his terrified, frozen face for a fraction of a second before Juliana's jaws snapped shut, biting his head clean off.

The warm, metallic taste of human blood, raw flesh, and the sickening crunch of bone echoing right inside our own skull made my incorporeal stomach violently churn. Playing a monster on a tabletop grid was one thing; tasting the carnage was another nightmare entirely.

Juliana let out a deafening roar, spraying bloody spittle over the pristine snow. Below us, panic fully took hold. Several soldiers broke rank and tried to flee, desperately tripping over the deepening snowdrifts.

Several more bolts of arcane light flew toward us, harmlessly impacting against our shimmering platinum scales. We easily located the source: three enemy mages standing in a tight formation, casting frantically into the blizzard.

Juliana banked sharply and flew over them, unleashing a torrent of radiant fire. The blinding flames engulfed the trio, their synchronised screams echoing as the holy fire burned away their flesh in seconds.

Through the whiteout, we spotted another magic-user. He was a cleric, crouched over a shivering soldier, desperately trying to heal the man's frostbitten hands. Juliana swooped down, her massive talons snatching the cleric clean off the ground and carrying him high into the air.

“Please! Please don’t kill me! I have a wife and a young kid!” the cleric shrieked, struggling uselessly against our grip.

For a being who had literally burned down a tavern to avenge a murdered wife and child just yesterday, Juliana showed absolutely zero hesitation. Her alignment to 'Good' was terrifyingly subjective—these men were enemies of her god, and therefore, they received no mercy. She ignored his pleas entirely, carrying him high above the whirling storm clouds into the bright, warm sunshine before simply opening her claws.

We tucked our wings and followed his plummeting form down, swooping toward another heavy siege engine. The cleric impacted directly on top of a fleeing soldier with a sickening crunch, a violent cascade of crimson spraying into the freezing air.

Unfazed, we grabbed the wooden frame of the nearest siege engine, hauled it into the air, and dropped it squarely onto another. Both war machines splintered and broke into useless piles of firewood.

The Forlinth vanguard was now utterly broken. Men were blindly trying to escape, completely disorientated by the magical blizzard and the sheer carnage.

Through the swirling snow, Juliana spotted a man surrounded by a ring of elite-looking guards. His personal mages were desperately keeping a magical fire going to stave off the frostbite. It was undoubtedly the southern commander.

We flew directly at them. The elite guards thrust their pikes and swords upward, completely unable to reach us in the sky. Several more fireballs flew at our underbelly, again splashing harmlessly against our draconic spell resistance.

Juliana opened her jaws and let loose her radiant fire once more, engulfing the entire command unit. They burned much slower this time—likely protected by high-level magical wards or fire resistance—requiring a sustained, prolonged burst of breath to chew through their defences. Eventually, however, their hit points dropped to zero. They succumbed like all the rest, leaving nothing behind but dark ash that was quickly scattered by the howling wind.

We flew back over the battlefield, taking in the sheer devastation. Many of the Forlinth soldiers had now vanished entirely beneath the deepening snow. Those who remained upright seemed completely broken, trudging aimlessly up to their waists in the freezing, soft powder.

We banked back toward the city. The southern wall had practically vanished beneath massive snowdrifts, looking less like a fortification and more like a sheer snowy mountain. We landed heavily near the Sergeant, the stone battlements groaning under our platinum weight.

The Sergeant looked up at us, shivering violently in his heavy cloak but managing a grim smile. “I thought I drew the suicidal mission here, but it seems ours was the easiest. Albeit incredibly cold.”

Juliana offered a slow, rumbling nod—as much as a massive dragon could manage.

“I think your work is done here,” the Sergeant shouted over the howling wind. “Their army is unlikely to survive much longer in this weather. Could you please check on the Northern Gate? They could probably use your help.”

Juliana nodded again before thrusting her powerful wings downward, lifting off and heading north through the blinding whiteout. As we reached the edge of our magically induced storm, the air suddenly warmed—but the sky remained a bruised, violent black. Heavy rain began to lash against our scales, and we were immediately buffeted by incredible, cyclonic winds.

Below us, Freyton was being torn apart. Wooden roofs were being violently ripped from buildings, and loose bricks flew dangerously through the air as deadly projectiles. The horrifying reality crashed into my mind. If you drop a massive, sub-zero low-pressure system into the middle of a hot summer’s day, you don't just get a blizzard. You spawn a violent cyclone. And worse, the rotation was centred directly on top of the city!

Juliana, cut the blizzard! As fast as possible! I yelled through our shared consciousness.

Juliana instantly released her magical grip on the spell. The unnatural source of the freezing air vanished, and the swirling winds near the epicentre began to slow. But the thermodynamic chain reaction had already been triggered. Magic had started it, but nature had taken over. The cyclone continued to rage on.

We flew higher, breaking through the violent cloud cover into the bright summer sunlight, only to look down in absolute horror. The cyclonic storm system was massive, stretching further than the eye could see. We had accidentally unleashed an unstoppable natural disaster upon the very country we were trying to save.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!