The dragon's harem

Arad walked out of the village, hidden by the thick veil of rain. He stood beneath a tree, looking at the sea of mud with burning eyes. As he expected, many houses had basements, and there was even an underground sewer system. All of those were open and protected from the endless mud, but what drew his attention was something that he found similar to Alina.

“An underground settlement, a den of thieves?” He couldn’t see the whole thing from the surface; something or someone was interfering with his senses, meaning that this was more than just a den.

“A lair, the dragon should be there.” Arad walked into the mud, pushing it away with barriers and earth magic until he reached the entrance of the lair, a well buried in the middle of the abandoned village.

As he cleaned it, he jumped down and landed at the bottom, knee-deep in cold muddy water. The rain was already coming down after him, filling the well at an alarming speed.

Arad could see a small crack in the stone in front of him, which led deeper into the lair, but he was too huge. That wasn’t a problem he couldn’t solve, and in the blink of an eye, he was already the size of a fairy, flying right through the crack as the stone twisted shut behind him.

The cave wasn’t too massive, as it was meant for human use. Arad soon reached the end, a massive stadium-like, underground arena with thousands of devils, dragons, humans, and even strange other races that Arad had never seen before.

In the middle of the arena, beneath the raging flames of hell used as torches, a tall man stood beside the corpse of a dead dragon, glaring at it with a passive face.

A demiplane linked straight into the world. Like passing through a mundane door, it didn’t have any flashy gates or entrances; just taking a step into this lair sends anyone here.

Arad looked at the devils, then at where he was standing. This was an underground fighting arena, or at least it should be. This isn’t under the village; it is somewhere else.

He took a step forward, walking out of the left gate.

The seats burst into cheers as the spectators stood up and started shouting, “YEAH! YEAH! BLOOD! BLOOD! GLORY! GLORY!” Drums, shouts, cheers, the rumble of magic, everything followed Arad as he walked into the arena, looking as massive as ever.

The man standing beside the dragon’s corpse moved and looked back at Arad, a frown appearing on his face. “A new challenger? No, you’re the one I was waiting for.” He turned around, ripped his shirt off, revealing his massive chest and muscles, and kicked the dragon’s corpse all the way to the other side of the arena.

“Is that the dragon I was looking for?” Arad asked, standing just a few meters away from that man. His eyes burned purple, and the ground around him shook.

“Probably not, I brought that one here to kill.” The man lifted a fist and pointed it at Arad, “But you’re here, that’s what I wanted.”

Arad looked at the man for a while, feeling that he resembled someone he knew.

“You’re a dragon, aren’t you?” Arad cracked his neck, and the man froze, “You talk a lot, that’s a bad habit.”

Arad smiled, “That is my problem, not yours.”

The man sighed, “Sena, that is my older sister. Mother sent me here to test you before you reach the Chromatic dragons.” He pointed at the VIP room where a stunningly beautiful woman with long, silky black hair, glowing green eyes, and smooth, pale skin sat, looking down at the arena with a passive face.

Arad couldn’t mistake her, not even for a second, that heavy magic, divine power, hellish scent, oppressive aura, massive soul, and never-ending stream of draconic magic and thundering souls. She is Tiamat, the Goddess of the Chromatic dragons.

“So the goddess herself came to watch.” Arad smiled and then glared at the man, “Still, I’m here for my ticket to the Star Mountain, not to fight. Isn’t her and you coming all the way here a bit too much?”

“I’m Azorn, the hell-born. If you want to head to the Star Mountain, you have to defeat me first.” He glared at Arad for a second, then growled, shook his head, and screamed, “I can’t play this anymore.” He glared back at Tiamat, his mother, “Is this really the fool you want to marry Sena? Couldn’t you find someone better for her?”

Tiamat didn’t reply, so he growled and glared back at Arad with rage burning in his eyes, “Forget it! You’re not going anywhere; you’re dying here. Sister doesn’t need someone like you.”

But then, the seats all burst into cheers and screams as a new challenger walked out of the gates, tall, muscular, handsome, and with a thin beard. The dragons who knew him trumbled and backed away, but he still kept a smile, flexing his arms and waving for the crowds, thumping his chest as he urged them to cheer higher.

Alcott walked in, the gentle smile never left his face as he looked at Azorn and then shifted toward the crowds. “I’m always up for some cockfighting. Where is the betting desk?” He then walked past Arad and Azorn, his eyes locked onto the VIP room where Tiamat sat.

“So? You’re letting your kid come here and start a fight with mine, didn’t think I’d complain, did you?” His honey eyes flashed golden.

Tiamat moved, looked down at him, and then spoke, “You were supposed to be asleep.”

Alcott laughed, “Suppose, that’s the point. I’m famous for reading dragons and knowing them as well as the back of my hand, but do you know who I know better?”

Tiamat stood and approached the balcony, “Humans. I bet you didn’t expect me to come all the way here, but aren’t you taking me a bit too lightly?”

“Lightly? No way,” Alcott smiled, looked at his fists and clenched them, the muscles of his forearms grew larger and started smoking with golden mist.

“Do you know that your weakness?” Alcott looked at Tiamat with a smile, “It is the dragons themselves. Arad dies here, and I’ll hunt every one of them until none are left.”

Azorn growled in the back, “He doesn’t need to die, just leave my sister alone.”

Alcott’s smile grew wider, “Sena? She is already my daughter, and if she wants to remain with Arad, your and your mother’s opinion doesn’t matter to me.”

Azorn lunged at Alcott without warning, swinging his burning fist with enough power to shake the hells. He was a hell-born, a red dragon born in the ninth layer of hell, fed and raised there. His powers far surpassed regular dragons as he took more from his mother than he did from his father. Some even called him the Prince of Hell.

Alcott dodged Azorn’s fist with a simple step, “A common dragon punch, hastened by your wing muscles, but what’s that, you almost hit me. It was slowly angled sideways, where did I see that?” Alcott smiled, “Maharaja’s fighting style, you were trained by her.”

Azorn’s face contorted into a raging frown as he flew at Alcott, but before he could reach him, Arad grabbed him from the shoulder. “I’m here.”

Alcott waved his hand to Arad, “Kids play with kids. I’m going up the stairs.” He jumped, landed between the seats, and then started walking up toward the VIP room where Tiamat was.