With Thea pouring in a torrent of magic, Avalon's shimmering outline began to fade from the material plane—first the outer lakes, then the inner forests.
As each region vanished, something vast and heavy began to take shape in their place: four colossal limbs, taloned and scaled, anchoring themselves onto what had once been her floating island.
What… is that? Thea stared up, stunned. The clawed legs suggested some kind of beast—but she had no idea what she'd just summoned. That was the problem with these high-level summoning spells: the results could be wildly unpredictable.
Energy-exchange summoning didn't follow any simple principle of equivalence. Sometimes what appeared was far stronger than what was sacrificed—and sometimes it was laughably weaker.
In the memories she'd inherited from the Merlin bloodline, there was even a story of a grand archmage who, during a desperate battle in the outer realms, had managed to summon a cosmic plant from the edge of the universe. At first he'd been thrilled—its energy readings were high enough to slay gods and demons alike. Then he realized the problem: the thing couldn't move. He died not long after.
At least I've got better odds, Thea thought grimly. The main plane attracted all living things; chances were high she'd pull in something truly powerful.
As Avalon's brilliance faded completely, Thea pushed away the pang of loss and focused on her summoning circle.
"A human girl? Are you the one who called for Me?"
The voice rolled down from hundreds of meters above. Thea looked up—and froze.
Hovering there was a massive dragon with five heads, each a different color: red, blue, green, black, and silver-white. Its scales shimmered in ever-changing hues, waves of energy flickering across its body like living auroras.
"Yes, Your Highness," Thea said carefully, bowing slightly. "May your wisdom's light pierce this endless night, and may the order of darkness break the stillness before dawn."
It wasn't that she'd suddenly learned to be polite—she was just panicking a little. Because this wasn't just any dragon. This was a goddess. One of the ruling deities from a distant micro-universe.
The Dark Dragon Queen Takhisis— the Many-Colored One, the Void Reclaimer.
Of course, Thea's power—even bolstered by the Avalon projection—couldn't possibly summon a true main god, not even one from a small universe. What she had likely done was pull through a younger version of Takhisis, from an earlier point in the timestream—before she ascended to full godhood.
Thank goodness for that. If the actual Dragon Queen had descended, it would've been the end. The gods of this world had all perished in Ragnarok; this was the age of mortals. A true main deity would have annihilated everything in 2166 with ease.
At first, Thea had thought she'd just called up a dragon—she'd even half-jokingly imagined herself riding it into battle. But once she recognized who she'd summoned, that fantasy died instantly. Ride her? She'd be roasted in a single mixed-element fireball.
Still, she was lucky. This version of the Dragon Queen was in her demigod stage—powerful, but not yet omnipotent, and with a temperament that could be reasoned with.
"Another god?" Horus's distant voice rumbled across the battlefield. "No… not quite."
The falcon god had been startled at first—the raw pressure radiating from the newcomer was undeniable—but a closer look told him the truth: what stood before him was only a projection. The true body had not crossed over, and the being herself was still young.
Even so, he couldn't back down now. When he had torn himself from divine slumber to descend here, he'd already decided—there would be no retreat.
Feeling the Dragon Queen's oppressive aura, Horus channeled his divine essence, unwilling to yield.
Thea's magic could recycle; so could his god-power.
All across the battlefield, scarabs began to vanish, dissolving into threads of golden light that flowed back into Horus's body.
"Not on my watch!" Thea shouted, triggering her contingency.
Every elemental on her side flared brightly—red, yellow, blue, and more—and dove into the swarming insect tide, detonating in a chain of explosions. The sky and earth turned into a storm of multicolored fire, wiping out half the scarab sea.
Horus's power-reclaiming process was violently interrupted. The god's expression hardened; his falcon eyes flashed with fury.
"That is not fair play," he thundered.
In other words: You summon, unsummon, and explode entire armies at will—have I ever interrupted your rituals? Where's your sense of balance, mortal?!
Thea winced. Okay, maybe she'd bullied this rather gentlemanly god a bit too much. Put side by side, his integrity really made her own moral flexibility look… questionable.
"Your Majesty Horus, you are divine, and I am mortal. I'd say that makes things perfectly fair."
Her voice stayed polite, even though her conscience stung a little.
To her surprise, Horus actually nodded.
"You're right. I misjudged you."
Thea covered her face in embarrassment. Seriously, why are you such a decent god? Now I feel bad.
Fine then—no more words. Let actions speak.
"My Queen," she called, pointing forward, "that's the enemy!"
She might not dare to ride the Dragon Queen, but giving commands was fair game—otherwise, this wasn't summoning, it was inviting a guest of honor to destroy you.
Takhisis gave Horus a disdainful glance.
"A bird-god? How utterly laughable."
Then she spread her wings. Her thousand-meter form blotted out the sun as her five heads opened their maws—belching fire, frost, sand, lightning, and light. The overlapping beams crashed toward Horus in a cataclysmic barrage.
The falcon god's expression turned grim. He unleashed all his remaining power, body expanding and reshaping into a colossal golden eagle. With a single beat of his wings, he soared through the storms of energy, his talons lashing at the Dragon Queen.
"Insolence! Do you even know whom you challenge?!"
Takhisis's five heads moved in flawless coordination: three heads unleashed fireballs, ice lances, and sandstorms to block his strike, while the other two breathed beams of light and darkness, fusing them in mid-air into a single spiraling ray.
At the exact moment Horus dove, the mixed beam slammed into his chest.
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the heavens. Horus was hurled back thousands of meters, one iron-feathered wing torn open, gleaming feathers scattering like blades across the sky.
"Whoa—how come there's no divine blood?" Thea murmured, watching intently from below. The Dragon Queen's reputation was clearly well-earned—she was only a demigod right now, yet she was crushing a true god. A textbook example of punching above your weight.
Respect. Absolute respect.
Still, the missing blood puzzled her, so she pinged the lazy unicorn lounging in her pocket dimension.
"He's probably out of blood," Arthas replied lazily. "Only a trace of power keeping that form intact. This god is about to fall…"
His tone held a note of regret. Horus had severed his connection to the divine realm to descend here; if he died now, it would be a true death.
Thea, however, wasn't sentimental. She summoned a few owls and pointed toward where the feathers were falling.
"Go pick those up. Might make great arrow shafts later—those are literal god-feathers, after all."