The Coming of the Chaotic One

Perhaps it was a mistake.

Perhaps he shouldn't have struck out towards the city.

However, not only was sending summons not working, but getting word that halfway across the world his enemies had fallen simply wasn't the same as slaying them firsthand.

He craved more.

He wanted the archer to see the city decay as Dagahra's toxic starfish poisoned the oceans, to see fish floating to the surface, birds falling out of the sky gagging on smoke.

The summoner? Her abilities were beyond pitiful compared to his own. She would watch her library and all its' precious books go up in flames.

The chemist had a few toys. He had a few monsters. Her rockets would falter, and everything she cared about would burn around her.

The black mage... the mother. He'd save her for last. Not because of the emotional aspect of her children dying first - that was just a bonus - but in practical terms, she was the only one who couldn't bring her family back to life. And speaking of bringing people back to life, that white mage - the accursed, upstart white mage that defeated him...

If at all possible, the white mage would go first.

Let them come. Let the defenders come. All of them. Make a party of it. He was prepared.

Some had opted for quality over quantity. Others had believed sheer force of numbers would win the day.

But it seemed nobody could muster both at once.

His mighty airship crackled with electric power. Blue flames danced around him, awaiting their moment.

And behind him...

A dragon flew behind the airship, fourteen feet long, standing taller than a man, with large, majestic wings and a monstrous, tyrannosaurian head filled with serrated teeth. Small spurts of flame crept over each jagged tooth, the monster's three-inch-thick scales preventing any harm.

Impressive enough by itself, but it was only one dragon.

Of hundreds.

They blotted out the sun, casting a shadow over the ocean. Their claws scratched at the open air, eager for flesh to rip. They were completely subservient to Garland - his defeat of the mighty dragon Shinryu assured their loyalty.

Garland looked out at the dragons. He looked at the dancing flames of his summons, Dagahra and Shinryu's flames among them.

He looked at the enormous, tarp-covered bundle strapped to the back of his airship.

And he allowed himself a smile.