The dragon's harem

Mathilde flew out of Arad’s stomach first, and she looked around with a confused face. “Wait, we’re already this up?” She turned toward Arad with a question in her eyes.

Plum pointed at him with a grin, “He’s a fast one.”

“I just used my void step and Vorvadoss’s eldritch magic to skip ahead a bit. It is a bit complicated, but it is nothing out of the ordinary. Yog didn’t come and stop me after all.” Arad said with a smile, floating with his fists resting on his hips.

Looking around, Mathilde couldn’t tell exactly what Arad had just pulled off, but she could see that the fabric of space wasn’t as damaged as it was before when Arad used Vorvadoss’s magic to teleport. This means he had used something else, or had evolved that magic into something new.

There was also the matter of Yog. She won’t get in Arad’s way that often, as she should for one reason. Arad is AO, and there are some outrageous things that he can do that if someone else attempted, she would kill them on the spot.

The only time when Yog would try to stop Arad is when the result of his action would be so devastating that it could harm him or the world in an irreparable way.

“Let’s move then. The others would stay inside and would come out later. We’re close to the thorns barrier.” She pointed at the branches upward, “There is this guardian, but he should allow us entry without a problem.”

“What kind of guardian?” Arad could sense a bit of tension in her void, and Mathilde was indeed a bit worried.

“Core, the first Elf, Yggdrasil’s first son. Or should I say, what remains of his power, a shard of pure divinity taking over a body of thorns and roses.”

****

Up above the clouds, sitting alone in the middle of a vast open field of poisonous thorns, roses, and twisting branches, an elvish man with a body of wood and braided vines moved.

“Ohh… dear grandpa. It’s been more than a few painful eons.” He looked forward with his glowing green eyes, the flowery hair dancing behind him, sparked with pink and red light.

As he tried to stand, the thorns and vines making up his body twisted and contorted, taking shape and turning into glistening alabaster skin and powerful lean muscles.

Even among the elves, Core was far different than anyone else. He was tall, standing over nine feet in height, with ears one foot in length each, long, silky hair that reached his ankles, and a lean build with long arms and legs.

“Core Leon, what shall you do? My son.” Yggdrasil’s voice boomed in the air as a snow-white robe covered Core’s body.

Core took a deep breath, his first breath in several centuries. Every other elvish king that had passed here had to greet him, the founder, by bowing. To all of them, he didn’t bother shifting out of his thorn form and stayed motionless, asleep, like a wooden statue.

“Greeted over a thousand times.” He took a step forward, shifting the garden around him into a massive open arena with a stage.

“But today, I shall be the one throwing a party. The young greet the old, that is the elves’ tradition.” He looked forward, seeing sparks of magic flowing upward. Arad was getting closer and closer each second.

Core smiled, “It is time, it seems.”

He stepped forward, lifted his hand up, and then his right foot, and stomped down, shaking the whole arena. That happened just when Arad landed at the entrance.

****

Arad looked through the dust and rain petals of the World Tree and saw this tall elvish man taking a stance in the middle. For a moment, he didn’t know what he was looking at.

A beautiful man with a thin face, golden hair, and radiating green eyes. “Is that him? Core?”

“Core Leon, the first elf.” Mathilde was standing right outside the arena. “I never knew he could move.”

Core straightened himself and bowed, “Great Grandfather, welcome to my humble abode.”

Arad got flashbacks to a certain rat piloting an oven, “So? Another one, I’m not your grandfather.”

Core smiled, “It seems I’m not the first. The beat me, the rat. But, I shall not fall behind.” He took a step forward, shaking the whole arena.

“Lord Core! Please wait a moment.” Mathilde cried, and he looked at her with a smile.

“Little girl, know your place and stay out of it. Unless you want to wipe you out like you did Dendron.”

Hearing his soothing voice uttering a threat, Mathilde took a step back. He wasn’t someone she could afford to start a fight with.

Arad stood between them and glared at Core, “I can’t have you do that.”

“If that’s what you wish, so be it.” Core made another stomp, “She stays out of my dance, and I’ll pretend she never did anything wrong.”

Diana emerged from Arad’s stomach and glared at Core, “Aren’t you one arrogant elf? How about I cut your ears and shove them up your arse?”

“Foolish mist of chaos, don’t tread a road you know nothing about.” He flicked his fingers, and everyone got pushed back, only leaving him and Arad on the stage.

Several angels emerged from the radiant sky holding countless instruments. Violins, drums, harps, trumpets, horns, lutes, and even strange bells of pure gold.

As Arad looked up, he saw more angels showing up, singing and chanting.

Core started moving, and Arad realised he was about to face a menace. He had seen something like this before, but not to this level.

Core was mainly a bard, the subclass that dances instead of singing and playing music.

Yggdrasil’s voice came booming from the heavens, sending shockwaves through the whole arena.

“Dance and sway, like the great tree. Purge evil and shake my roots. For this is the day that you’ve awaited for far too long.”

Core roared and glared at Arad with two burning green eyes. “Grandfather, shall we share a dance, like the old days of before the ruin?”

Arad sighed, “I’m not your grandfather.” He took a stance similar to what he saw from Isdis: “But I shall teach you a lesson anyway.”

“I’m always pleased to learn from your wisdom.”

Arad glared at him, “First lesson, don’t get in my way.” and he lunged at him.