Tree. Tree. Tree.
Oh, another tree!
“Minions, the fairies know nothing of landscaping!” Vainqueur snarled, flying above a gigantic, impenetrable forest of oaks and alders. Minion Victor followed him on Gorynych’s back, while Knight Kia trailed them while riding her griffin, having traded her [Plot Armor] for her normal clothes for the day when she couldn’t stand the artifact's terrible lines anymore.
It had taken Vainqueur some effort, but he had convinced Jolie to lead a group of minions further west rather than carry this sorry excuse of a knight on her back. Even after the Declaration of Minions’ Rights, many of his kindred looked at his niece’s behavior with condemnation.
“Their forests all look the same!” Vainqueur kept complaining, although a flock of his kindred were busy redecorating it with their deadly breaths; each of them escorted by a group of flying minions, in case fomor thralls ambushed them with dragonbinding bottles. Further west, the Tarasque Emperor moved in a straight line, he and his brood eating anything in their path.
As it turned out, they weren't picky about whom or what they consumed.
“Can Gorynych help with redecorating?” the zmey asked, eager to please a true dragon. “Gorynych good with drawing faces!”
“Mmm, I expect nothing, but I will allow you to show me your zmey art.”
“Thanks, Big V!” Gorynych began to scribble a large drawing with his breath. The result was a hideous sphere with a mouth and eyes, colored somewhat yellow by the embers.
Much to the Emperor’s concern, his chief of staff had remained silent so far. “Minion?”
“Isabelle will give birth anytime soon!” Manling Victor shouted anxiously at once, startling the group. “I will miss my daughter’s birth if this war continues!”
“Where is Odieuse?” Knight Kia grumbled to herself, just as restless. “It’s been three days since the landing, and there’s been no trace of her!”
“We have fought countless thralls so far,” Vainqueur rasped. “And yet, no fomor dared challenge me. The enemy minions are suicidal, but their masters are hiding from my wrath.”
“I take this as a warning sign,” Knight Kia said, turning towards Manling Victor. “Any news on the dragons’ souls?”
“Jules successfully raised a dragon killed by the golems,” the Grand Vizier answered. “Only creatures - dragons and minions alike - vaporized by the nuclear blast could not be revived at all.”
“Odieuse must have enchanted the warheads,” the [Paladin] guessed. “With the question being… where did the missing souls go?”
Vainqueur guessed where, and it infuriated him.
After taking over Prydain’s shore, the V&V Empire and the dragon army—helped by their Gardemagnian minions—had progressed deeper within the fomors’ territory, destroying forests, annihilating legions of warbeasts, and establishing outposts all over the southern part of the island. Yet neither did the fairy lords nor their dolphin thrall showed up to confront the dragon army ravaging their home. No new arrow of light fell from the skies. And the thralls who trapped Vainqueur’s kindred inside bottles managed to escape.
“We are near the area where Stonehenge should be on Earth,” Knight Kia said. “Since the place was of significance to the fomors on our world, I assume its Outremonde counterpart must be too.”
“There.” Manling Victor pointed at a lone clearing amidst a sea of trees.
The area instantly reminded Vainqueur of his battle with Mell Lin, and the world beyond the Earthgate. A circle of carved white stones pulsated life at the area’s center, surrounded by cats and dragons.
A group of wyrms, among them Genialissime, laid on their backs near the bones of seasoned cows. Vainqueur immediately landed nearby, imitated by his minions. “Cousin!” The dragon rushed to his family member’s side. “What happened?”
“Too spicy…” Genialissime complained, clearly suffering from a nasty indigestion. At least he had been sensible enough not to bring his children to the frontline. “The sauce…”
“Too much…” another dragon groaned, paralyzed. “It was too much…”
What kind of terrible creature could bring his kindred so low?
Vainqueur smelled the leftovers of their meal, before his eyes focused at the stone ring's center.
The area seemed to be some kind of cat sanctuary, for hundreds of felines had made this strange temple their home; according to their fattened looks, they used to be minion rations before deserting. They formed an assembly, surrounding a lone purple cat with boots and a fancy, feathered hat.
The furred creature cooked a sweet, tasty sauce in a cauldron, waving a paw at the newcomers. “Oh, hello there!” he said with a honeyed, sweet voice. “Have you come for the free meal?”
“[Monster Insight],” Manling Victor said the second he set his eyes on the purple cat.
“A free meal?” Vainqueur asked, recognizing the sauce’s smell. “Could this be…”
“My secret family recipe of ‘special guest sauce,’” the booted cat explained proudly. “Your fellow wyrms could not resist it!”
The poison sauce... Vainqueur salivated upon remembering this sweet, delightful taste.
How could it bring dragons down, when it had given Vainqueur his first personal Perk, and fond memories? The thought brought him back to his early, carefree adventurer days, when he didn’t have the shoulder the fate of all of dragonkind. That his fellow wyrms could not stand nor appreciate the taste disappointed Vainqueur greatly.
“Come on, take a sip!” the purple cat tempted Vainqueur. “My treat!”
“You cats have always been excellent hosts,” the dragon declared, happy to meet someone civilized in this savage country.
“Holy Happyland...” Manling Victor raised his scythe from atop Gorynych. “That’s not a cat! That’s a fomor with class levels!”
A fomor? Impossible, he didn’t smell like one… although the dragon wouldn’t put it past a fairy to cause such mischief, and he trusted his chief of staff unconditionally. “Finally!” Knight Kia said upon climbing down from her griffin and unsheathing her sword. “I thought they had all fled!”
“A fomor?” The cat cleared his throat, anxious, “Manling, be serious! Would a fomor offer a delightful, tasty sauce to dragons?”
The scheme suddenly became clear to Vainqueur. “You foul villain!” the dragon roared, claws extended. “You took the shape of a beautiful feline to lead my kindred astray with your sauce, and steal their cat food!”
“Wait, wait, let me explain!” the purple cat protested, backing away as the group prepared to pound his temple into dust; the other felines cowardly hid behind him. “I am not a fomor, but a future cat!”
“The future?” Vainqueur frowned, puzzled.
“The cat resistance sent me to the past,” the fairy furball explained, detailing his outlandish tale. “In the future, cats have almost been exterminated by dragons, their descendants becoming even more advanced beings to survive!”
“That’s ridiculous,” Manling Victor said. “You can’t expect us to believe that!”
“Is it more believable than a fomor taking the shape of a poor, lonely cat?”
Intelligence check…
Successful!