“Dragkenoss, I don't like this. Are you sure that thing will be able to win?” Doreson voices from atop the battlements, pointing towards Berosus which is standing tall and firm behind the closed gates. Gates which are barely taller than the undead, allowing it to be fully hidden behind them.

Dragkenoss just shrugs, ”It will work. I was barely able to cut its skin. I doubt an army of mostly tier one classes will fare much better, especially now that he is controlling it.”

Doreson moves his gaze from Dragkenoss and looks towards the man sitting atop the monstrosities head. His eyes focus on the one named Quasi who is sitting with his legs crossed and feet bare, his butt firmly planted upon Berosus’s domed head.

At this point, Doreson is still unsure whether this individual is actually the patriarch of the kitsune or not. What he can be sure of however is that the man, whatever he is, must be exceptionally powerful to be able to control a beast of this size.

“He is the problem Dragkenoss. I don't know him nor do I trust him. He showed up ten minutes ago and is now demanding we follow his crazy convoluted plan.”

A cheeky smile flashes across Dragkenoss’s face, “Come now Doreson, you simply need to have faith.”

Doreson frowns, his ears wiggling in annoyance. He is a tactician. The idea of ‘having faith’ is a foreign concept considering his class focuses solely on facts.

“You and Oregan are idiots. How is it both of you just swear loyalty to a man within minutes of meeting him for the first time.”

Doreson voices, his fur standing on end from how angry and frustrated this matter makes him. His eyes are still locked on Quasi’s form atop the monster, gazing with purpose before suddenly frowning.

“Ughhh, can you at least tell me how strong he is? My [Watch Captain] can't make tail or hoof of him.”

“Oh! How is Greta? You still haven't impregnated her?”

Dragkenoss asks with a cheery smile.

“Don't change the subject. How strong is he, Dragkenoss? What is his class. What level is it? I need more than just your word to be able to trust him.

Dragkenoss frowns as he notices the expression of panic, fear and confusion on his friend’s face. He takes a moment to contemplate on why this could be happening. Doreson is, if Dragkenoss is being honest with himself, easily one of the best tactical minds that has ever wandered the battlefield.. He prides himself in always being prepared, being able to read complex situations with ease thanks to his... [Tactical Precognition] skill.

“Doreson! Stop using [Tactical Precognition] on him. You’re going to go mad,” Dragkenoss yells, his hands reaching out and grabbing Doresons head to turn it away from Quasi.

“I…”

“Deactivate it Doreson. Stop using the skill.”

Doreson finally complies and Dragkenoss watches with trepidation as his friend’s expression changes. And then Doreson pukes, heaving hard while Dragkenoss holds on to him to keep him from falling over. It takes about a minute before Doreson steadies himself and becomes able to raise his head.

“I can't read him Dragkenoss. His mind is everywhere.”

Dragkenoss curses himself for not warning him beforehand. But how was he to know that the man would be so obsessed he’d activate one of the most powerful skills at his disposal.

“Damnit Doreson, your aura isn't nearly strong enough to be able to read Quasi’s. His aura is much stronger than Volpe’s. I’m not an idiot who would swear loyalty to someone without a good reason. He’s the real thing.”

Doreson takes a couple of slow breaths. He then wipes the fur on his face, removing what puke remained on it. “That felt horrible.”

Dragkenoss can only nod.

“That's what happens when another's aura is so much stronger than yours. I know how it feels, Volpe made me experience the same to me when she was training me. It is not a good feeling.”

Doreson shakes his head, still feeling a bit dizzy, but finding himself quickly regaining his senses.

“So did he attack my aura? Did he defend against it? Was that a skill?” Doreson asks, trying to understand what just happened. Granted, he is by no means an expert on aura, but he had never experienced a reaction like this to the use of his skill before.. Previously, the worst feedback from it he’d ever received had been exhausted, and that was usually only when he was focussing on a literal army of people.

“Mmmm, it was more along the lines of you charging headfirst into a stone wall without slowing down at all.”

Doreson contemplates that information. He spits on the floor, removing what stomach acid was still left in his mouth.

“I don't like this one bit. I only came here because you said you needed help.”

Dragkenoss rolls his eyes.

“I explained the situation in that letter. Everything. You should know I don't lie.”

“Then… what you said about the dungeon getting stronger is-”

“The truth, yes,” a figure shows up from behind Doreson, finishing his sentence.

As the figure comes closer, Doreson finds the person to be a female Gejan. Her red scales glittering in the firelight.

“Thorous, good to have you here. Did you need anything?”

Dragkenoss asks smiling while looking towards her.

“I do actually,” she replies, turning to face Doreson who meets her eyes.

“Quasi needs you to get your [Archers] ready and to have them aim at any [Mages] within range. Preferably without killing them. He still wants them alive.”

Doreson looks to the Gejan. He has seen many of her kind before when a large group of them passed through the floor, but this is the first one he has seen of this color.. Most of the other ones had been grayish or greenish with a bit of brown speckled in..

“Why only the mages? Would it not be better to fire at anyone within range? And why does he want them alive? What the heck is his plan?”

Those were probably too many questions to remain respectful, but this plan just seems to contain too many flaws. This patriarch can't possibly be an idiot, right?

Thorous lifts an eyebrow, “You have your orders,” she exclaims before turning and jumping twenty feet down the wall.

Doreson stares at her back with his mouth agape, watching her run off.

A hand is placed on his shoulder a moment after.

“Good luck Doreson. It will all make sense later,” Dragkenoss voices before also jumping off the platform, cracking the stones beneath him upon landing.. He then sprints towards the gate, waving goodbye at the utterly confused [Tactician Captain].

______________________________________________________________

[Mages]. Motherfucking [Mages]. I completely forgot that they would have those. Damn, I'm not sure how resistant Berosus’s skin is to magic based attacks. Hopefully those [Archers] can avoid killing any of them.

Looking up towards the battlements, I smile as I see the [Archers] quickly organize themselves in groups of ten with [Lieutenants] behind them.

Which is good considering the enemy is about to...

“There it is.”

Peeking over the door, I find that the enemy army has finally started to charge. A good move against an opponent with a ranged and height advantage. It would greatly lower the amount of arrows that impact those charging.

Ahhh, I love combat between armies where the size of the forces is in the thousands. It allows the use of so many various tactics. Even more so in this world where single powerful skills can change the outcome of the entire battle, even if one force heavily outnumbers the other. All it takes to achieve victory is one individual with one powerful skill.

I lean forwards a bit, looking over the edge of the battlements, smiling as the mass of enemies are getting closer. They seem to be confident, but still wary of something at the same time.

200 Meters. The blurry shapes clear up a bit, revealing heavily armored individuals. Many [Warriors] and [Guards]. Not an ideal force to charge with, but I do notice tier two classes mixed in. Those might have been hard to deal with for the forces present before my arrival, but my undead will have no problem handling them.

100 Meters. They are slowing down, looking on confused. Probably wondering why they aren’t being shot at with arrows, and why there are no defenses visible at all for that matter.

50 Meters. They speed up again. Not sure why, possibly the effect of a skill, or maybe they think we are all sleeping and they caught us by surprise.

25 Meters. And, they fucked up. Time to make an entrance.

Smiling madly, I direct Berosus to raise all its arms before slamming them forward with immense force, blasting the gate into smithereens and causing a deafening amount of sound.

The wooden shards of the gate were blasted away towards the approaching army like shrapnel from a grenade. The ones leading the charge are hit by these shards, causing many of them to be knocked down and to be trampled by those behind them. Luckily, those are the only ones to be injured as the rest quickly slow to a halt, staring at Berosus whom I order to take a few steps forward.

With another mental command, the purple head of my minion explodes in a shower of light, illuminating the entire battlefield.

Good, this should give [Archers] the opportunity to properly take aim.

As Berosus continues to walk forward, the enemy army is forced to move back. They stare up at me and Berosus wide-eyed, which fills me with glee.

Part one: Make a badass entrance: Success

Part two: Scare the horse-poop out of them: Succe-

Wait!

Ok, nevermind, they aren't all part horse. I see antlers and such in the mix.

You know what? Fuck it, it was still a success.

Part Three: Show them the badassity of mah minion: Working on it.

I can't very well go on a murdering spree. Not without a warning at least. Can't make myself look like a complete monster who attacks people indiscriminately. Obtaining loyalty and servitude through fear is effective in the short run but is a pain to keep up in the long run.

[Loud Voice]

I stand up. The opposing force below me can see my movements clearly as I am glowing a nice sexy purple thanks to the giant lightbulb underneath me.

“I am Quasi Eludo, a being of immense power with the almighty class of [Hero]. I have entered this dungeon to save your species from extinction. To release you from this prison and bring you to the outside world. All I ask is your complete and total, undying loyalty. A simple thing, one which will benefit us both. You will survive and I wi-”

*Swoosh*

I tilt my head to the right, the air vibrates as an arrow passes by in the spot where my head just was, missing me by centimeters.

Did he just...

I point at the perpetrator.

“I am giving a goddamn speech here! You're not supposed to interrupt me yet. You're going to ruin my timing. I don-”

*Swoosh, Swoosh, Shoosh*

I dodge, predicting the trajectory of the arrows, bending my body appropriately. My perception and dexterity allowing me to do so with ease.

Well, this is annoying.

*Swoosh, Swoosh”

And kinda fun. Welp, gotta adapt my plan. Hmmm, I bet I can dance to this.

*Swoosh, Swoosh.”

“Moon Walk”

I walk backward in a circle, the movement of my feet making it look like as though I am walking forward.

*Swoosh, Swoosh*

“The Robot”

This one actually confuses them quite a bit.

*Swoosh, Swoosh, Swoosh*

“Charleston”

Ok, now it looks like they aren't even trying. Maybe something easier?

*Swoosh, Swoosh*

“Eeeeelectric Slide”

OHHH, I think I saw a couple of centaurs copy me! Oh wait, nevermind. They are taking out their bows instead.

“Swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.”

Damn, this is getting harder. Why the fuck do so many [Warriors] carry goddam bows. I best wrap it up with one more dance. Probably something that can represent them. Something like...yea.

“Gangnam Style”

Arrows continue to fly towards me, I continue to dodge, but am forced to drop face down as an arrow passes by my face… coming from behind.

I look back, glaring, “What the hell Doreson, I’m busy working here.”

Doreson smacks his face in utter disbelief and annoyance before pointing at the now very concentrated army.

“Yes, I know they are much closer now. That was the point of my plan. Sheesh. You're like my goddamn mom, except you don't have a harem of sexy muscular men to service you.”

The [Tactician Captain] looks at me, mouth open. He nocks and draws an arrow.

Shit!

“Ok, ok, I’ll continue the plan. This should have been long enough.”

Doreson frowns but undraws his bow.

Sheesh, I told him I got this. People need to have more faith.

Now then, I better time this correctly.

I send an order and Berosus takes in a deep breath, his lungs filling with air. I send down an enormous amount of mana, activating the hidden ability of [Loud Voice], which is to amplify the sound of something that I own.

Did you know that centaurs have hearing as good as a horse, which is several times better than that of a human? Probably, I’m sure. But did you know that I forgot to warn my four-legged allies about my plan? Even a great being like myself can make mistakes occasionally. Oh well.

*WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA*

Even with my ears covered, I can feel the vibrations of a very high pitched sound originating from my location, penetrating everything. And my ears, well, they pop, and I lose the ability to hear things. And then the pain hits me so hard that I am forced to close my eyes. The pain is absurdly strong as every nerve in my body is stimulated from the vibrations.

Luckily, I know how to not lose consciousness from extreme pain. Although the pain I am currently feeling is possibly the worst I have ever felt, and that is saying something. Unfortunately, ignoring the pain by focusing on something else is made rather difficult by the constant messages popping up rapidly in my face.

With a mental command, I stop the screens from popping up and instead focus on my plan.

With another mental command, I order the light of my undeads head to disappear. As a result of this practically all light is removed from the battlefield, plunging it into darkness. Up until now, the bright light source had been increasing the number of cones and decreasing the number of rods within the eyes of all those present.

In other words, I just fucked up their natural night vision.

As for my own, well, my undead don’t need eyes or light to see. And since I can tap into my undead’s eyes, neither do I… I’m getting really dizzy...

This is weird. I’m feeling seriously lightheaded.

Attack

My undead starts to move forward. Tentacles extend from Berosus, ripping into the army with ease. Berosus uses his tentacles to ram them into each other, avoiding direct killing blows like slamming his tentacles down…

I gaze around through my undeads eyes, finding a centaur in the distance who is looking confused and staring in my direction.

I wonder what he is thinking… a story… hmmm?

So, imagine you are a centaur running through the night with only the ability to see the other centaurs near you and the firelight from the top of the city walls.

And imagine that then a bright purple light shows up from out of nowhere, illuminating the entire area around you. Amazing right? You are finally able to see what is around you. However, you are then struck with fear as you gaze upon a beast to which not even your worst nightmares can compare. But, before fear overwhelms you and you attempt to retreat or run away, a majestic figure reveals itself. A man, powerful, sexy, strong, intelligent, sexy. He stands up and addresses the crowd, radiating confidence. He speaks, and all you can do is listen as his words. They are joyous words, words speaking of freedom and loyalty.

His words sway most of the crowd, but not all. There will always be heretics, and in this case those heretics have bows. Weapons that they utilize for their own selfish purposes. They shoot at the Majestic purple figure, interrupting his speech. A travesty, but the figure is talented. He dodges the arrow, and then dodges more as heretics continue spring forth like flies.

 

But the figure, instead of being angry, starts to move. He starts to dance, sexy muscles moving with grace and perfection, dodging all incoming arrows with ease. Abs swaying, biceps tightening, booty shaking, gleaming from sweat to create perfection. It is a mesmerizing feeling, one all the more mesmerizing because of the purple light dancing in the sky.

But all erotic things must come to an end, as suddenly the figure drops down. Possibly, a heretic had gotten lucky and had killed the figure. His body lies prone and unmoving now.

From there, you would weep, scream, yell, cry, but that doesn't happen because you instead focus on the fearsome mount. You watch as it opens its mouth, its body seemingly becoming larger, a moment passes.

And then pain. All encompassing pain. Your ears feel like they are exploding, your body shudders, confusion strikes you. You close your eyes, allowing the pain to pass. And then, when you cannot hear anything anymore, you open your eyes… and you see nothing. Disoriented, confused, in pain, blind, deaf, you are afflicted with so many negative effects, but none of it matters, not even the ground as it rumbles.

The only thing that matters is that the figure is gone. His sexy abs, orgasmic long hair, delicious biceps, succulent lips, but most importantly, those outstanding thrusting thighs. Thighs that could rend metal, rip apart clothes, thrust with perfect prec-

 

Reality comes back to me, my mind clearing up quickly. I shudder at the transition and the realization of what just happened.

Holy shit, is that what madness feels like? Is that my mind when I’m crazy? Do I just make up some convoluted story?

I move and look around.

Still deaf, still blind, and it looks like not even a minute has passed. Berosus is rampaging.

I try to stand but stop. I look down.

“Huh, apparently crazy me has a massive gay thing for myself.”

…

I’m going to need help with this...