Skandre.
It went without saying, the city was spectacular and splendid in all the ways the capital of a nation was supposed to be. Located at the very top of a colossal mountain, the city had no walls, its beauty on display for all to see.
The buildings were not only better looking and constructed of proper materials, they were orderly spaced and positioned in multiple concentric circles that closed in on the magnificent palace sitting smack dab in the center.
Obelisks that touched the sky and a plethora of domed hall roofs that seemed to be competing in the height department stood connected by numerous walkways turned into corridors by the glass coverings installed over them.
Maids, knights and other workers moved back and forth on them, going about their daily tasks. In a place none of them could see and would probably never step foot in, Edward VII, the king of the kingdom, stood and gazed at them and the city below.
Judging from his graying hair and the crow's feet around his eyes, it would be right to call him old at a first glance. Even though he possessed the physical potency of one many years younger, at this moment, none of this phantom youth could be seen.
Creases denoting worry and trepidation marked his face like indelible markers, making one wonder what could possibly make someone with his wealth and power enter such a state.
"Still no news?" he asked while keeping his gaze ahead.
Behind him, William, a Second Grade knight on the verge of advancing to Third Grade stood in his shiny, polished armor and gave his report. He was the guard captain of the city, the one solely responsible for its safety and by extension, the one in whom most of the king's trust was placed.
Since most of the knights had been drafted for the war, the city's defenses were at their lowest, intensifying the normally heavy burden on his shoulders significantly. And now, whatever was bothering the king was being added to his troubles.
"Still no news. The last message came from Blue Hillock City seven days ago. They had found the den of the invaders and were currently fighting their way to it.
They had met some… stubborn.. resistance, but they made progress all the same. They just need more supplies and reinforcements and the enemies would be repelled.
On that front, Count Vanlier rendered support by letting his subordinates help with the transport. We should be getting news of victory in four to five days."
You'd think the deep creases on the king's face would clear up at this information. It only worsened.
He didn't know if a powerful heretic had hexed him or if his age was making him senile, he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong.
He'd been feeling it for days, and the foreign sensations grew stronger as time went on. It's like the more they drew closer to victory, the deeper the sinking feeling became.
He thought about it for a moment and his eyes went wide suddenly. He spun around and faced his most trusted friend and subordinate. "What about the imprisoned heretics? Have they done or said anything odd or strange?"
Knight William shifted awkwardly and betrayed a reluctant expression and demeanor. "My king…this…"
Edward VII rushed his friend and grabbed him by the shoulders, shouting in the man's face. "What are you hiding? Tell me!"
"The ones who claimed to be sages and prophets… most of them took their own lives a few days ago. They were all shouting desperately before they died…" William paused, unsure of whether to say the next words.
He saw the maddened look in the king's eyes and caved in. "They said things like… evil befalls and the dragons betray."
"Evil befalls… the dragons… betray?"
Edward VII let go of his friend and stumbled back, his lips beginning a furious mumble only he could hear. This quickly transformed into full-blown panic and he started to shout.
"Impossible. This is impossible. The dragons signed the Dragon Covenant with my ancestors. There's no way—"
An ear bursting roar rumbled across the entire city from the horizon. Before the minds of many could catch up with the sudden development, they froze abruptly, a few even shutting down when the familiar, leg loosening aura washed over the entire city.
William rushed forward and gazed in the direction he could sense the roars, his more powerful eyes making out the creatures responsible. He grasped the balcony railing tighter with his gauntleted arm and turned to face his lord.
"My king, it's a flight of dragons."
A series of loud horns blared one after another from the mountain ridge beside Mount Mingsu—the sawed off mountain the capital was seated on.
As the urgency and reality of what the horns denoted travelled through the entirety of the city, most of the citizens still indoors left their homes and crowded on the streets, gazing at the skies and each other in confusion.
Still with their gazes locked on the horizon, Edward VII and William saw two explosions of light go off on the separate spots on the mountain ridge, followed by the crumbling of rocks that rolled down its side.
Their eyes might not be telescopic, but both men knew that those structures the dragons just destroyed were the lookout stations. Edward VII in particular, felt the hole in his gut widen and swallow him further.
The dragons were attacking them, and publicly at that.
Soon enough, the tiny spots in the distance grew until they were fully fledged green dragons flapping their wings above the capital city and unleashing their aura on it to the maximum.
As one could guess, chaos ensued. People ran about helter skelter, their minds unable to come with proper responses for this completely unusual situation. To many, it might as well be the end of the world.
One of the dragons, their leader from the looks of it, coiled its neck and took in the fruits of its handiwork below, growing excited and feeling a surge of pleasure at the "headless chicken" behavior of the humans.
He raised his neck and pointed his head at the sky, unleashing a loud roar. It rumbled across the sky and conveyed different messages to those who heard it, the other dragons perfectly interpreting the order given to them.
They raised their own heads in unison and unleashed their own roars in unison, the combined might of their unrestrained acts rattling the bones of the citizens and shaking the buildings.
Said buildings became the targets of the dragons as they split up and beat their wings furiously, each one going toward one of the many lavish and tall ones.
Edward VII and William watched one dragon land in front of an influential noble's storehouse and spray the guards there with their venom breath, reducing the unfortunate men to pungent green pools.
They didn't even get to scream.
With the pesky bugs out of its way, the dragon simply charged forward and broke through the thick stone walls of the building, swiping away thick wooden beams and huge rock slabs away with its dagger-like claws.
Its actions exposed numerous boxes of gold, gems and other treasures, items it promptly secured under its many claws before beating its wings and taking to the sky.
All over the city, huge shadow after huge shadow passed over the frantic populace and attacked well chosen targets. Unlike what their animalistic behavior would suggest, the dragons were methodical in how they went about their looting.
They targeted only noble mansions, stores, merchant warehouses, auction storages, and even the city's treasury, reducing any and all who stood in their way to bloody smears or corrosive green puddles.
Some unlucky civilians had even been caught in the blast ranges of the attacks, a few losing their limbs or the flesh around them to the poison mists that rose from the many puddles.
When the dragons completely raided whatever structure of all its valuables, they'd take it to the city square and dump it there. Three of them had used transfiguration and assumed human form, the shape of the race they found so pathetic allowing them to gather and organize the loot into neat huge boxes.
If Edward VII didn't believe that the dragons had truly betrayed them, their act of breaking into the palace and looting it as well served as the final nail for the coffin in his mind.
Just like they did to the many storehouses and facilities they raided before, they did so to the palace with non-existent regard for its integrity nor its inhabitants.
Their massive forms reduced the domed roofs to shards of sharp, multi-colored glass and a rain of bricks and stone, and their unbridled behavior buried a lot of maids, princes and princesses under a lot of crumbling buildings.
Edward VII even saw his favourite concubine get crushed by a thick stone pillar. He stood at where William had evacuated him to, his dead eyes fixed on the spot where he saw the last of that young woman.
He only looked away when strong winds assailed him and blew his hair and clothes back.
The force in the gales blew him a few steps back and landed him on his ass, but William moved in front of him, his sword leaving its sheath.
The leader of the dragons, judging from its larger, more muscular and more majestic form, beat its wings and fixed its basin-sized eyes on them. It landed and before it could speak, the king, who'd been helped up by a couple of guards, pushed William aside and strode forward.
"WHY?" he screamed, "Why Lord Nagupta? We signed the Dragon Covenant. Why are you attacking us?"
It was amazing how human-like the expressions of dragons could look in their transformed states.
"Attacking? Us? You must be mistaken. This is not an attack. We are noble dragons and we always keep our promises. We are not so shameless to go back on an agreement we've made."
The mockery and laughter went unspoken, but everyone present heard it.
Edward VII pointed his trembling finger at Nagupta, his face beet red and eyes building out their sockets.
"Yo-you… call this not an attack?! You lead a flight of dragons to the capital city and rob and kill and you dare say it's not an attack?!"
The aged king's hoarse voice reverberated through the location as he stumbled back in weakness. Such a level of stress and anger was enough to bring the timer of most eighty or ninety year old men to zero.
Him being a vigorously healthy 143 didn't change this. He was too old to be engaging in such tension rising engagements. He knew this, yet, he was undeterred.
He pushed away the knights bothering him and fished a red ruby necklace from his robe, raising it high in the air and extending it towards the dragon.
Light poured out of the gemstone in the necklace's center, forming mysterious golden writing in the air above everyone.
"This is the Dragon Covenant. By its power I order you to leave this city," Edward VII roared with every drop of his waning strength, scraping the bottom of the barrel with that one.
Nagupta snorted, light green mist shooting out of his huge nostrils as he stared at the gemstone and the projected words with disdain.
"Hahaha… ancient covenants do indeed need to be acknowledged. But the tradition of dragons shouldn't be abandoned either. We are not here to attack you. The Taerar Green Dragons have protected you and your kingdom for a thousand years. We are simply collecting protection fees."
The old man couldn't take it anymore. The words hit him like a sledgehammer, so much so that he lowered his arms to his chest and clutched at his chest, blood shooting from his mouth amidst violent coughs.
The last thing he saw was the dragon taking to the sky before the darkness closed in on him.