Worthy Core

"Oh my gods! I can't believe we're really fighting a dragon!"

DEATH glances at Lollyp as his scythe slices into the side of a distressed kobold, and somehow his shadowy face expresses disapproval. "WE? I DARESAY LADY BEATRICE IS DOING ALL OF THAT. THE REST OF US GET TO HANDLE THE TRASH - AND ENJOY THE SHOW."

The slime scoffs. Away from her home floor she's far from at her full strength, but at her current S-tier rank she's still capable of dealing with quite a few Domain soldiers at once. "Hey, we're helping! She'd have a much harder time of it if she had to fight a couple of dozen people at once, right?"

The guardian shade hisses as a lightning bolt passes through his indefinite form. "HHSSS. TRUE, BUT THAT DOES NOT QUALIFY US AS SAYING WE'VE FOUGHT A DRAGON."

"Well, shit!" Lollyp grimaces as a few arrows sink into her flesh, and she tosses out an alchemical explosive before responding. "What if we got one hit in? Then we could say we fought the dragon. That would count!"

"IT IS NOT OUR ROLE. WE MUST ENSURE THAT LADY BEATRICE HAS THE GREATEST CHANCE OF VICTORY, WHICH WE CAN DO BEST BY KEEPING THE RIFF-RAFF OFF OF HER REAR."

"Yeah, that belongs to Sincere!" Lollyp laughs at her own joke before her tone turns pleading. "C'mmmmoon. Just one hit? We can kill more demons and kobolds after!"

DEATH takes a moment to examine the state of the arena. It's a bit chaotic, with virtually all of the combatants doing their best just to avoid the contest going on in the center of the chamber. The Great Dungeon's attempts to swat or incinerate Beatrice are turning a huge portion of the arena into one gigantic hazard zone, and even their own soldiers need to do their best to keep to the edges. That means that the handful of remaining mortal defenders are able to engage them on more favorable terms, and with most of the Scale Wardens already disabled the two guardians help to tip those scales quite a bit. The shade glances back and forth between the dragon and the remaining soldiers before coming to a decision.

"...PERHAPS JUST ONE HIT EACH."

"Whoo! Eat acid, scale-brain!"

"Gods damn, mom's got some moves!"

Nox glances at his sister before ducking back down behind a shrub. It's not great cover, but then...well, their options around here are rather limited. The wooden houses around here seem to be in such poor condition that they would barely act as protection, and while there are a few large metal vehicles dotting the street, several of them have already been destroyed in the fighting.

Rather explosively, in one or two cases. Not exactly something Nox feels like hiding behind. At least a shrub won't blow up on him.

"I must admit, we perhaps underestimated the value of, hn, simple sword skills!" Nox grunts as he fires off a lighting spell at the Great Dungeon, but even though it's a hit he doubts the dragon even notices it. For one thing, the Dragonlord and Xenia are causing the tyrant far more damage with their own attacks. For another, however...he's simply already running low on mana. He and his sister had never even really considered trying to get into the melee as they'd been focusing on their spellwork, but whether it's their young ages or something about this false reality, Nox finds himself rather short on stamina.

"They never were very flashy, were they?" Nix raises a hand as a reinforced mailbox gets smashed and shards of brick fly towards her face. "Bah! But right, even when we saw a high-level melee fighter, they always had fancy spells backing them up! Body enhancers, elemental effects...I'm not sure we've ever seen someone who just focused on their weapon skills."

The brown-scaled dragonling grins. "That was always mom's strength, right? The magic changes...but a sword is just a sword. Any world you visit, it's always pointy end forward."

"Right...but still." Nix frowns as Xenia barely dodges a wing that passes above her head. "Is there such a thing as 'pointy enough' to kill a dragon?"

Nox swallows, fully aware of just how slowly his magic is recharging. "Well...let us hope so, hrmm?"

Okay, so maybe 'easy' doesn't necessarily mean easy. In most ways Beatrice has every possible advantage in this fight. She has the equipment, she has the skills, and her opponent was plopped down in front of her literally half dead.

Buuuuut it is a rather long time since she'd fought a true dragon, and she'd never fought one alone. Dragon whelps from time to time, and other beasts of their scale. And true, she's not entirely alone - Lollyp and DEATH had distracted the Great Dungeon for a brief moment, but they'd both taken such serious wounds in exchange that she's not entirely sure if they're even still fight-capable. But in her last fight with a dragon, that one had at least had other targets to worry about while this one seems very focused on her.

Fortunately, as hard-pressed as Beatrice might be Nalina doesn't need to worry about conserving her breath. "You call that a fireball? My grandma spits up more dangerous-looking shite than that!"

Sadly, the dragon had eventually caught on to the fireproof nature of Beatrice's armor and had shifted to other magics. Cursing, Beatrice activates her own flame spell as an ice bolt freezes part of her left arm. "Your, hrng, grandma sounds like an interesting person to meet, Nalina!"

"She's twice as scary as this fool, that's for sure! She - blrg!" Whatever Lady Evervein is about to say is drowned out as Beatrice drives her into a solid bit of draconic shoulder meat, and the warrior feels a little bad about interrupting her banter. It is something of a life-or-death situation though, and sometimes a sword just needs to serve her primary purpose. The Great Dungeon certainly disagrees, going by how they roar and shift, partially collapsing as one of their legs ceases functioning.

"Damnable human! As soon as I am whole again, I'll tear you limb from limb!"

Beatrice grins beneath her helmet. "I'm looking forward to seeing you try, lizard."

"Stop dodging back! They've got better range than you!"

The Dragonlord roars. "The day I need to take advice from a human is the day I surrender my throne of my own accord! I have defeated challengers since the day I was - rrrggh!"

The dragon emits a sound of pain and fury that causes vibrations to shake the dust off of the roofs of nearby houses as the Great Dungeon shatters one of their wings with an elemental multi-spell. Watching on, Xenia can only sigh. While the dragon didn't get to finish their sentence, she rather suspects that the last time they fought off a serious contender in a battle would have been long ago enough that it could be counted with four digits worth of years. They are just...so bad at this. The Great Dungeon may not have much direct combat experience either, but they have at least spent the last few weeks battling Rainlander armies. Spells come to them much more easily, and the ghostly dragon is now down both a wing and a leg.

"Just bite the motherfucker! They're not that good at defensive spells!" Xenia can attest to that claim personally, having been whittling away at the tyrant dungeon for quite a bit now. Surely they must have collected barrier spells aplenty in their time as a proper dungeon...unless the adventurers of their time had just never specialized into that? Or perhaps the dungeon is incapable of performing both offense and defense in their current state, and has chosen to go on the offensive? Either way, if a woman with a sword can draw her share of blood, surely a dragon a hundred times her size could do the same.

The Great Dungeon laughs at her frustration. "You see, Worthy!? This is what I had to put up with for all those years! Unable to take good advice, even when it was the best route to success! They only know one route - bluster followed by cowardice! Roar, then retreat! You've chosen a poor ally for this fight, reincarnator!"

"Coward? Coward!? Says the rock who operates via lies and betrayal and schemes! Come then, and I will show you the pride of a true dragon!" With that statement the Dragonlord charges forward on their three good legs and slams into their opponent. It's a mess of wings, and claws, and...necks. As Xenia watches on from a not-so-safe distance, she's astounded to observe as the two dragons become raveled up in each other, their serpentine necks twining together like cord. She's not entirely sure if this is actually some sort of ancient draconic wrestling move, or if the Dragonlord was so wounded that they ended up like this on accident, but it doesn't seem to be much to the benefit of either combatant.

The dungeon at least seems displeased by the result. "Stumbling fool! You cannot even fight as a dragon properly! Allow me to demonstrate!" With that said they clamp their jaws down on the base of the Dragonlord's neck, and the dragon finds that they have no means in which to respond. They can't twist away from the dungeon, and their own position is so poor that they can barely do more than nip at the dungeon in return. Certainly, they cause serious-looking wounds, tearing off more scales and flesh from their foe...but it's not damage to a critical location.

And when there's a sudden crack in the air a few moments later, the difference between their attempts becomes stark. The Dragonlord slumps, their neck broken, and their form begins to disperse almost immediately. Roaring, the dungeon shouts out their triumph. "Ahah! Ah, how I'd dreamed of doing that in the flesh! I suppose I should thank you for this opportunity, reincarnator - now, where have you fled to?"

As they look left and right, still somewhat pinned in place by the ghostly form wrapped around theirs, a whisper enters their ear canal. "Right on top, DL - just how I like it."

Before the dungeon can do anything, the woman standing on the dragon's skull drives her sword downward. It'd be an ineffective move against most dragons, but one with missing flesh and bone, and wounded further by battle with their own mirror? The blade finds its way into what remains of the dragon's brain with little resistance. There's one final roar and a twist of the neck which sends Xenia flying, and then the last dragon slumps and goes still.

Of course, one does not get casually tossed off of the head of a true dragon and just brush it off. The unmowed lawn of a nearby house only provides minor cushioning as Xenia bounces and rolls through the grass, dropping her sword and bruising quite a few ribs in the process. Still, as she comes to a halt and finds herself staring up at the sky, she can't help but laugh.

"Ahahaha! Ha...hope that helped, Beat. I should get back, but...I think I'm gonna just catch my breath for a minute..."

It comes as a complete surprise when it happens. Beatrice was doing damage, certainly, but she'd felt no closer to actually finishing this battle than when she'd started. The dragon was just too good at defending the core implanted in their chest, and she could never get in front of them at all without risking a serious counter-attack from their jaws or magic.

Then, suddenly...the dragon is half of the combatant they were a moment before. Their movements are slower, their spells have half of the range and energy to them. They remain a dangerous foe still, but this...Beatrice can work with this. "Tiring out, dragon?"

To her surprise the tyrant's response is a simple incoherent growl. Definitely not a good sign for their state of health, but exactly the sort of thing Beatrice has been looking for. Nalina seems to feel the same. "I think we can do it, Beatrice. Now's our chance!"

"Agreed. For Worthy Dungeon!" Beatrice charges forward, activating several of her spells and enchantments to put her into the right position. She moves to the front of the dragon, dashes forward, jumps onto a scale-covered knee, leaps forward, swings towards the spherical lump sitting nestled between several scales - and comes to a complete halt as the dragon's jaw bites down around her midriff.

Even with her body impaled on several of their fangs, it seems the dragon is still capable of coherent speech after all. "You've done me grievous harm today, you and Worthy. But still, even now, humans remain easily fooled."

Beatrice barely has the focus to interpret the words, however. It's not the pain that draws her attention, but...the core. It's so close. Despite that brief moment of speed and strength, the dragon is still drooping, still weakened. They can't seem to raise their own neck any further, they can't even clamp down any harder with their jaws and snuff out her life. Distantly, far away in her right hand, Nalina shouts at her. "Beatrice! We can do it! Finish it! Throw me if you have to!"

Throw Nalina? Beatrice remembers doing that once...throwing a friend down a dragon's gullet. Could she do that again? The core...it's out of reach. A sword's not designed for throwing, though. And dungeon cores are not that fragile, to be destroyed by a single toss. Does she have any other option? To put everything into one last -

"FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCARLET EAGLES!" Beatrice can barely see it at this angle, but a minotaur the size of Grim is not easily missed. Still, the warrior does have to chuckle at the sight of him. Bleeding, pale scars indicating recent magical healing, and...weren't there more Scarlet Eagles before? In the distance there's that gnoll archer, and...Beatrice's thoughts are interrupted as Grim's ironclad fists slam into the dragon's flank. Already wounded, the dragon responds to the pain...poorly.

Flailing, Beatrice finds herself being tossed about like a doll in the mouth of a rabid dog. Yet the Great Dungeon can't seem to be free of her, stuck between their teeth as she is. Her vision grows dizzy, yet she remains focused on one single point.

The core.

There.

No, moving away!

Closer now. Closer!

Swing! Is the word being shouted out loud by Nalina, or Beatrice's own mind? Swing! SWING!

CRACK.

"You are...alright, right mom? You didn't break anything in that fight?"

Nix rolls her eyes at her brother's concern. "She doesn't even have real bones, remember? As soon as we go back all of this should fade away. Right? So...shouldn't we get to doing that?"

Xenia can't help smiling at the antics of the twins. "In a minute, in a minute. A fight's a lot mentally as well as physically, y'know? Just...one more minute."

"Xenia!"

The reincarnator furrows her brow. That shout didn't come from either of her kids, who both look equally confused. Sitting up, her head pokes out of the tall grass and she looks around. "Ehhh? Huh?"

"Xenia Worthy Worthy! Seems like you've got a lot of explaining to do, young lady!"

Xenia turns to look at the porch of one of the nearby homes, jaw dropped. "...Mom?"

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