The Ashen Mountains were exactly as terrifying as King Aldric had described.
A sprawling, blackened valley stretched for miles, choked with rivers of glowing magma and razor-sharp obsidian crags. At the very edge of the valley, perched on the highest peak, was the Obsidian Fortress of Demon Lord Malakor.
And blocking the path to that fortress was the Vanguard of the Apocalypse—an army of two million heavily armored demons, dark sorcerers, and towering siege behemoths. They chanted Malakor's name, their collective voices shaking the very tectonic plates beneath the mountains.
It was a cinematic wide shot of pure, unadulterated doom.
Cut to a close-up.
Snap.
Maya flicked open a woven picnic basket. She pulled out a container of perfectly chilled Elven fruit salad and a bottle of sparkling mana-water.
"I have to say," Maya remarked, laying down a pristine red-and-white checkered blanket over a patch of grass just outside the ash zone. "The Elven catering is top-tier. But if a single speck of demonic ash gets in my fruit, I'm going to lose my mind."
Leo sat down next to her, adjusting his floral shirt and uncorking the sparkling water. He looked out over the valley at the two million screaming monsters. "Yeah, the ambiance is a little loud. Also, the valet situation here is terrible. Where are we even supposed to park?"
Behind them stood the two legendary Dragon Lords, Ignis and Vermithrax. The Ancient Calamity and the Sovereign of the Skies were currently holding six pieces of designer luggage between them, looking absolutely miserable.
Leo pointed a casual finger toward the Obsidian Fortress in the distance.
"Alright, boys," Leo instructed, taking a bite of a delicate finger sandwich. "Maya and I are going to enjoy our lunch. That castle up there? That's our new hotel. We need you two to clear the driveway. Try to keep the noise down, and if you damage my duty-free bag, I'm turning both of you into a pair of matching boots."
Ignis the World-Burner and Vermithrax exchanged a look. For the first time, the grandfather and grandson shared a moment of profound, unspoken understanding: These humans were terrifying, and the demons were about to pay for it.
Vermithrax gently set the suitcases down. He cracked his neck. Ignis stretched his massive, magma-dripping wings.
"With pleasure, Lord Leo," Vermithrax growled.
The two dragons launched into the sky, breaking the sound barrier instantly.
Down in the valley, Demon Lord Malakor stood on his war chariot, raising his jagged battle-axe to signal the march toward the Human Kingdoms. "FORWARD! WE WILL CRUSH THE AEG—"
He was interrupted by the sky turning completely black.
Malakor looked up. Plunging from the clouds were two massive dragons. Not just any dragons—the Ancient Calamity and the Dragon King themselves.
The cinematic carnage that followed was breathtaking.
Ignis opened his jaws, unleashing a tidal wave of primordial hellfire that swept across the left flank. In seconds, fifty thousand armored demons were vaporized into fine dust. The heat was so intense it turned the battlefield's sand into a runway of smooth glass.
Vermithrax dove into the right flank like a living meteor. He crashed into a squad of towering siege behemoths, shattering their armor with his bare claws before spinning and whipping his massive tail. The shockwave sent a hundred dark sorcerers flying into the stratosphere.
The battlefield was pure, high-octane chaos. Explosions of crimson magic and golden dragon fire painted the sky. Mountains crumbled. The earth split open. The screaming of the demon army echoed for miles as they were systematically dismantled by two mythological beasts taking out their pent-up frustration.
Back on the hill, the camera panned to Leo and Maya.
"Mmm," Maya hummed, chewing thoughtfully. "Did they put mint in this fruit salad? It's really refreshing."
"I think it's mint," Leo nodded, pouring them both a glass of water. He glanced at the valley, where Vermithrax was currently using a demon general as a baseball bat to hit other demons. "Hey! Vermy! Watch the splash zone! Keep it away from the blanket!"
Vermithrax flinched in mid-air, hastily throwing the general in the opposite direction and giving Leo a frantic thumbs-up.
High up on the balcony of the Obsidian Fortress, Demon Lord Malakor dropped his spyglass. His jaw was slacked. His ultimate army—the force meant to conquer the world—was being casually swept away like dust. And the beings commanding the dragons were... having a picnic?
Malakor swallowed hard. Suddenly, the Human Kingdoms didn't seem so appealing anymore.