Lewd Dungeon, Chapter 219 (Patreon)

Chapter 219 – Domination

I was not surprised by the dragon’s mobility, and the nimble way it evaded Bloodhawk’s ion cannon. That was the difference between firing a ship’s weapons at another ship, and at a living creature. Living creatures are much better at evasion than starships, and creatures with a snake-like body, like this dragon, were better at it than most creatures.

I saw the head turn towards the plane I was riding on. Oh, I could have manifested anywhere in my space, but I knew that Bloodhawk’s cameras would capture me doing this, and that the pilot would back me up. This was the kind of thing that would make me a legend here on Earth. A bit of theatrical flair would spread my faith around the world, once this hit the internet.

I could have stood upon the wing, since my avatar was more image than solid at the moment. Otherwise, I would have either been blown off the wing, or affected how the fighter jet flew with my weight and the aerodynamics. But symbolism was important, and I was playing for a crowd.

The dragon opened its mouth, getting ready to unleash another gout of steam at the jet I was riding. I’d seen the video of what happened to anything caught in that blast, and I knew that the fighter wouldn’t survive it. If I let it hit, that is. Even as Sheila broadcast her warning, I was coming up with a plan.

“That is fine. Steady, Viper 02. I will handle it.”

“Y-you will huh? Fine. Never wanted to live forever, anyways.”

I chuckled. Yes, the pilot would be fine, at least through this pass. I would have to come up with a suitable reward for her. But that was something for later.

The dragon breathed. I held up one hand, the one not currently holding my sword, and a translucent black shield appeared before the plane. The next instant, the fighter was plowing through the jet of steam, untouched by it. The temperature didn’t even rise more than a couple degrees.

The steam cleared, and the dragon was there, and close. “Well done, my child. You have earned a reward for your steadfast faith and courage. Now, roll as you pass above it, Viper 02, and then return to base. Bloodhawkwill start search and rescue for your wingman. This is my fight, now.”

The pilot nodded dumbly, probably half-shocked that she was still alive. But her training and instincts took over, and she followed my command. The plane angled up, and then rolled just as it shot over the dragon.

The dragon was moments too late in reacting, clearly having not expected the plane to literally fly through its steam breath attack and come out the other side completely unharmed. But this was in my domain, and I had mana and power to burn. And a magic shield was all about mana and power.

I let myself ‘fall’ as the fighter rolled over the dragon. As I fell, I became solid, since it wouldn’t do to fall through the dragon. Holding my blade in both hands, I thrust it downward, into the dragon’s neck. Divine Steel wreathed in the Flames of Death pierced the dragon’s scales, and cut deep.

Divine Steel was steel that had been touched and made, though not necessarily worked, by a divine being. It carried with it an infinitesimal portion of the god’s power, allowing it to cleave through most lesser materials with ease, while weighing no more than normal steel. A blade forged from it would hold an edge indefinitely, unless it met something on the same level as it was.

In truth, Divine Steel was one of the few materials that existed outside the normal Tier structure. And, because of how it was made, it was extremely rare, to the point where, out of the entire Golden Host that had attacked me, only the Crusader-Champion had a blade made of the stuff. Normally, at this stage of my divinity, I would not have been able to make it, but being a dungeon and a god, both entities that the System made plenty of exceptions with, was allowing me to find loopholes that other people likely never even imagined.

The Flames of Death, on the other hand, were black flames that did not burn like fire, but instead dealt necrotic damage to a foe, causing the wounds to shrivel, become sickly, and even rot. Anything living that touched the flames would be touching the essence of Death itself. Only nonliving creatures and objects were safe from the flames. Undead, on the other hand, were healed and strengthened by them.

This was a divine spell I had learned while going through the System files. It was normally only available to gods and their servants who had Death, or some connection to it, in their portfolio. But my portfolio was Domination, and I had dominated several intelligent undead, who now worshipped me, which was just enough of a connection to give me access to the spell. The possibilities this opened up were intriguing, to say the least.

The dragon roared in pain as my blade cut into it, and then caught fast on something. Perhaps a rib or part of the spine? Either way, my blade caught something more solid than the dragon’s scales, and effectively anchored me to the beast.

Not that the dragon didn’t do its best to dislodge me. It writhed in the air, violently throwing itself about as it tried to do something, anything, about the pain I was causing it. But I was not letting go of my blade so easily. After all, we were in my domain.

The sea serpent then tried to turn back on itself, and bite me! But I had been expecting that. Not that I was any kind of tactical genius or expert in dragons. No, this was something far simpler, and more primal. You stab a creature in the back, it is going to try and get away from the pain. If that doesn’t work, it will try and rip the source of the pain out. You didn’t need to be a genius to see that.

I pulled one hand away from the sword, and raised it. A bolt of power from my hand blasted into the dragon’s open maw, impacting in its throat. The dragon’s roar of pain was choked, and the panicked writhing intensified enough that even I actively needed two hands to keep hold of my blade.

I knew what I wanted to do, but the System applied rules, even to me. And some of those rules applied to the abilities I was given, way back when the Apocalypse first started. What I wanted wasn’t impossible, but I had to weaken the dragon enough that it couldn’t resist.

That was why I chose the weakening aspect of the Flames of Death. The longer the blade was buried in the dragon’s hide, the more damage it would do to it, and the weaker the dragon would become. The only question was whether the dragon would weaken enough to allow me to carry out my plan before it was damaged so badly that it was either dead, or usesless?

The writhing slowed, as the dragon mastered itself. Pain was like that. Enough of it could throw a creature into disarray, obviously. It was the body’s alarm system, screaming out to the brain that something was very wrong, after all. But if you left that creature in the same pain for long enough, a strong mind could push through the pain, and continue fighting.

The dragon dove towards the swamp below us. Its plan was obvious enough. If it couldn’t be rid of me by shaking me off or ripping me out, then perhaps crushing me against trees or the ground would do?

It was an obvious plan, but only because plans like that were brutally effective. In this case, I couldn’t turn my avatar incorporeal without the blade sliding free, or ending the Flames of Death. And if I let go of the dragon, it would be a pain in the ass to get back into position.

I wasn’t worried about losing the fight. The only way I could lose, after all, is if the dragon clawed down through my dungeon to break my core. But if I let the surroundings take too much damage, then it would definitely harm my reputation. Might even push down the number of new believers I was sure would be coming my way, and I couldn’t have that.

I needed to end this.

Placing my free hand on the dragon’s scales, I pressed forward with my magic and my mind, reaching for the dragon’s mind. The dragon was intelligent, I could sense that much easily. Intelligent enough that it knew exactly what I was doing as I slipped the tendrils of power into its pain-addled mind. Intelligent enough that it could fight back.

Pain assaulted me, the pain of my own blade striking my back. The dragon tried to throw the sensations I was giving it back at me, but I was ready for it. Snarling, I pushed through, pushed deeper. I was the rising God of Domination, after all, and I would not be denied!

The dragon reeled under my mental assault. I could tell that it was young, untrained. Fighting mostly off instinct and what little the System had taught it, most likely. It hadn’t had any true battle experience, aside from fighting against the creatures of the deep. And the kraken did not have the ability to unleash mental attacks, like I could.

I probed deeper, and saw it. The dragon was essentially a newborn, hatched through the Apocalypse returning mana to the deeps, where it had slept for countless millennia. The creature did not understand anything, except the law of claw and fang.

Well, that didn’t matter to me. If it needed to be shown who the bigger predator was, then I would happily oblige it! I began pushing images into the creature’s mind, showing me taking the sea serpent and breaking it, taming it, domesticating it. Showing the tortures that awaited it if it resisted, and offering a possibility of power, if it submitted.

Submission was not something that came naturally to a dragon, even a baby dragon. I didn’t care about that. The dragon would submit to me, one way or another. I was not going to be denied this prize.

Our fall slowed as the dragon focused less on throwing me from its back, and more on driving me from its mind, until we came to rest amongst the trees in the swamp, barely half a mile from the declared borders of Swamptown. My will burned into the creature, even as the flames sapped its prodigious strength. The dragon was a Tier 4 creature, no doubt, despite being a mere baby dragon.

But it could not hold out forever. All I needed was a single slip, for the defenses to be relaxed for just an instant. I twisted my blade, ever so slightly, and the dragon roared in renewed pain. Its defenses faltered. In that instant, when the dragon was distracted by the pain, I pushed fully into the creature’s mind, and made its body still.

The effect wouldn’t last long. A minute, maybe two at the most. But that was enough for what I had planned.

I placed my hand upon the dragon’s scales, and activated my [Slave Brand] ability. Because the dragon was a higher tier than I was, what normally would have been a process that happened all but instantly instead took a full minute to complete, as my magic burned across the dragon’s scales, and into its body and soul. The dragon tried to fight, tried to resist, but it was weakened, and I was already in position, focusing everything on locking down the dragon’s movements, and drawing the brand.

And still, the dragon resisted, trying to break free, to stop me from completing the sigil, and I was struggling to keep it back. And I was losing the battle. But it was a battle I didn’t need to win outright. I just had to avoid losing for just long enough.

It was just barely enough. Moments before I would have lost control of the dragon, the sigil finished. “Be still.” With those words, the dragon stopped moving entirely, and I drew my blade from its back.

I had won.