“Towards the far end of the city. Pass the fires. There!” Danhwa’s inner voice guided the massive dragon.
They landed on the outskirts of the city, near one of the many shrines that dotted the landscape. The shrine sat atop a hill, offering them a great view of the surrounding area. It was also near the sea. As they landed, Zhilbar let Danhwa tumble out of his claws.
The God rolled himself on the ground, allowing the grass to cover him in a cocoon. Within moments, it had covered him completely. Zhilbar, who had seen this happen only once many years ago, shrunk himself to human size again. The land was actually draining him of his powers, something he found incredible.
As he sat down to wait for Danhwa, an assassin came out of the shadows, running on silent feet. Zhilbar turned just a tad too late; the assassin’s thrust was unstoppable.
Unstoppable except for the fact that the same grass that had enveloped Danhwa now shot out of the ground to stop the assassin. Zhilbar coolly walked over to where the assassin’s sword had dropped and picked it up. It was a wonderful blade, but it hummed. That puzzled him, until he realised what it was.
“Danhwa!” he called his friend, turning to the bundle of grass.
“I know, old friend. The ancient Enemy lives again,” Ran sat up, naked.
The initial attack and explosion had caught the God unaware, but here in this sanctuary he had made for himself, healing was to be had. And because he had made a decision to stay here, the ground had accepted him.
“The Reptilian One lives,” Zhilbar turned to the assassin. Now the tailed one’s attack made sense.
“And by His will, thus you die,” an unfamiliar voice spoke, the wind carrying her words.
The two Gods turned to find themselves surrounded. Somehow, the ancient creatures had slipped through their senses and were now all around them. Zhilbar counted about twenty of them, all small fry. Yet he was not interested in killing them, but in learning what they wanted.
“Reelian lives then?” The catch in Danhwa’s voice surprised him.
“Our Master lives, no thanks to your treachery. For that, you must die,” the young lizard woman detached herself from the group.
In her hand she had a single katana. Zhilbar could see her blood dripping off the blade. She had bathed the sword in her blood. The only races that would do that would know that mortal blood often poisoned Gods; their body chemistry was completely different from a mortal’s.
“It’s Ai’ru. He’s alive.” Danhwa’s voice was full of venom, low in anger.
“For the sins you have committed against my Master, you will die, Danhwa of the Pelequoi,” the woman proclaimed judgement.
“It’s not yet my time to die, child,” Danhwa replied, his eyes glowing golden and feral.
“So you say,” dozens of arrows flew at them.
Both Danhwa and Zhilbar took to the skies.