Apocalypse Tamer

Basil had never seen a true god in the flesh before.

An Orthodox Christian through and through, he only respected one deity above all others. The existence of the Trimurti had made him doubt his place in the universe, but not even the discovery that Earth was held within Shiva’s palm had shaken his faith. Kalki was as vulnerable as any human, and the false deities of Metal Olympus could be killed.

The dragon… no, the dragon-shaped deity in front of him had no such weakness. Neither Basil’s Monster Insight Perk nor the System could even register it. The sheer aura of power radiating from the deity’s body made even the thought of fighting back impossible to contemplate.

But as wise men said, it could take a lifetime to establish a reputation… and a single conversation to ruin it.

“Do you know how much this statue cost?!” The deep, powerful voice of the dragon god descended from awe-inspiring to childishly incensed. “One million Vainqueur dollars! One! Million!”

Basil had a pretty good idea about what a god would feel concerned for: the fate of billions, the rotation of stars, maybe the occasional holy crusade.

Money wasn’t one of them.

“I swear, this was an accident!” Braniño found the courage to speak up, though his voice trembled with a hint of fear. “I was defending my daughter’s honor when–”

“One million years!” the dragon roared so loudly as to shake the hall. The stained glass windows shattered, sending splinters in all directions and causing Braniño to wince in dread. “That is the number of years you will work to reimburse me for your sinful conduct! Shame on you! Shame!”

“It’s alright, Your Majesty,” Victor replied calmly. Basil suddenly realized that the winged man alone hadn’t knelt in the dragon’s presence. If anything, he sounded almost bored. “The statue was insured.”

The dragon god whipped the ground with his tail in annoyance. The resulting shockwave sent Basil’s Volkswagen Constellation rolling against a wall; causing more damage to the hall than the battle with Vasi’s father ever did. “A dragon doesn’t pay insurance!”

“But thankfully, minions do,” Victor mused. “Our gatherings are never a dull affair, so I’ve learned to anticipate disaster. It won’t cost you anything, Your Majesty.”

“It won’t?” the red dragon’s fury abated and he sighed in relief. “Good job then, Friend Victor. You have saved us money again.”

“It’s my job, Vainqueur,” the man replied with a chuckle.

Basil and Vasi observed the scene in utter disbelief. For one thing, the dragon’s inane behavior shattered his outward image of divine infallibility; and Victor’s casual behavior was less that of a cowering servant and more that of an employee-turned-friend.

What was going on here?

“It’s him…” Vasi’s words were barely audible to Basil’s ears. “Vainqueur Knightsbane.”

“Whom?” Basil whispered under his breath.

“The supreme god of the Outremonde pantheon. And this man…” Vasi glanced at Victor with wide eyes. “Could you be the Victor?”

“And you!” Victor raised a finger at the crowd, his eyebrows strained in annoyance. “Can’t you just get along for five minutes without me? What was it this time?”

“It’s his fault, Father!” Braniño pointed at Basil. “This ruffian dropped a truck on me after deflowering my daughter!”

“Father?!” Basil and Vasi asked at the same time, the latter louder than the former.

Victor lowered his hand in confusion, his eyes moving from Basil to Vasi, and then back at Braniño. “Your daughter?” he asked, his eyes lighting up in excitement. “Ahhhhhhhhh…”

“Oh gods, here we go again,” Basil heard Goblina complain.

“I have a granddaughter?!” Victor clenched his fists and leaped in joy. “I have another granddaughter!”

“Demonling Braniño, thou hath bred at last?” the dragon asked the demon lord, before snorting upon noticing Baba Yaga. “You have laid with a fairy?”

“It was the bug part that won me over, not the dragon one,” the old witch replied, much to her ex’s joy. “Though the whole ‘take over the world’ part helped a great deal…”

“I expected better from a half-dragon, but speciesism is undragonly.” The red dragon raised a hand and made a V sign in the air. “All children of Friend Victor shall receive my blessing.”

Before Basil knew it, a torrent of red light surrounded Vasi. His heart pounded in his chest as he thought his girlfriend was under attack, but the magic vanished as quickly as it appeared. The witch looked at her hands in shock, her fingers cackling with energy.

“Vasi?” Basil asked, alarmed. “Vasi, are you okay?”

“I feel…” She turned over her hands as if trying to see something Basil couldn’t see. “I feel great.”

Congratulations, Vasilisa Yaga has been blessed by the supreme master of Outremonde! She will gain an additional 10% chance to raise a stat on level up!

Vasilisa Yaga can now undergo metamorphosis into either a [Archdevil Princess] (Demon/Fairy) or a [Glaistig Fomor] (Fairy/Demon).

At this point, Basil had no idea what was going on. He glanced at the overjoyed Victor trying to make sense of how someone near his age could be Vasi’s grandfather, before remembering that this world’s people used magic to stay young. Now that he paid more attention to their faces, there was indeed a passing resemblance.

“Vasi, that’s your name?!” Victor grabbed the surprised Vasi’s hand with a beaming smile. “I am so happy to meet you! Did you have a nice trip? Is everything good?”

“I’m…” Vasi gulped. “Are you… are you Victor Dalton? The god?”

The god? Basil thought he had misheard, but Victor nodded rather than deny it. He looked at the winged salaryman, struggling to accept the reality. Victor noticed his unease and responded by snapping his fingers. A halo manifested above his head.

“You’re a god?” Basil asked in confusion. Kalki’s example had taught him that looks could be deceiving, but he simply struggled to imagine this exhausted man as a master of the cosmos.

“I know, I don’t advertise.” Victor let out a heavy sigh as he released his granddaughter’s hand. “I’m mainly the god of minions, among other things. Each time you begged your boss for a raise, each time you tried to get one of your teammates not to screw things up, each time a kid emotionally bullied you into buying him ice cream, it was to me you prayed.”

“God of minions?” Basil held his breath as he digested the implications, before cursing under his breath. “You have my sympathy.”

“Damn right, which is why I never answer prayers,” Victor replied with a deadpan look. “Don’t ask yourself what the gods can do for you. Ask yourself what you can do to help them get a day off.”

What did Kennedy say again? Basil wondered. Ich bin ein Atheist?

“And this big beautiful wyrm,” Victor jerked a thumb in the dragon’s direction, “is my boss and best friend.”

“Vainqueur Knightsbane,” the dragon introduced himself properly, closing his eyes and raising his chin. Basil guessed he was trying to look noble, but he only managed to appear caricaturally smug. “Great Calamity of all Ages, supreme god of the Outremonde Pantheon, Emperor of the World and the Albain Mountains, wealthiest in all the realms, and best dragon ever. But you may call me Your Majesty.”

Basil had no idea what half of these titles meant, so he wisely nodded without a word. His girlfriend, meanwhile, was at loss for words.

“I’m…” Vasi struggled to breathe. “A demigoddess?”

“Quarter, kinda?” Victor chuckled sheepishly. “I had Braniño and his sister before I became a god of Outremonde, and demigod children don’t receive any benefits anyways. It makes you count as royalty though, which is nice.”

So that was why Vasi could wield Joyeuse, Basil guessed. The sword would only let kings—and cats, for some reason—touch it safely. Though Basil’s hand burned when he touched its pommel, Vasi had carried it without issues.

“Also…” Victor locked eyes with Basil. “Did I hear correctly? You’re dating my granddaughter?”

His expression remained calm, but his eyes appeared made of steel for a second.

“Will I have to fight you for her hand too?” Basil asked with a groan. His chest wound still ached, even after Vasi’s healing potion helped close it. “If so, can I ask for a round of Board & Conquest?”

Though he tried to psych himself up and put on a front of false confidence, Basil knew his chances of survival were meager. He already struggled to inflict any damage on Vasi’s father, and her grandfather seemed even stronger. His hopes of victory were near-nonexistent; and outright delusional if the dragon joined in.

Basil still prepared to use an Elemental Orb and fight to the bitter end. He gathered his breath, stood up, and matched Victor’s gaze. “Bring it.”

Thankfully, Victor proved more tolerant than his son.

“I’m good,” the god said with a shrug, instantly deflating the tension in the room. “Once upon a time I would have struck you with lightning, but I’ve taken anger management classes. Don’t hurt her and we’ll stay friends.”

Basil guessed it counted as his blessing. Hopefully, it would help get Braniño off his back.

“And who are you, manling?” Vainqueur squinted at Basil with eyes full of light. “You are a Dragonknight.”

Basil’s heart skipped a beat as he realized the danger. “Your majesty, I can expla–”

“Your Majesty, with a capital M,” the dragon cut him off abruptly. “I can tell the difference, Manling.”

What? Basil blinked in confusion. “How?”

“I am a dragon, I know these things.” The dragon god nodded sharply. “And this is why…”

Basil tried to summon his halberd and make a valiant last stand, only for a System notification to appear and confirm his weapon was still sealed. Saint George, witness me, he thought in defiance. Elemental Or–

“I must congratulate you.” The dragon looked at Basil Bohen with what could pass for paternal pride. “The world needs manlings like you.”

Having expected to be burned to death on the spot, Basil dared to look into the dragon’s gaze upon hearing his words. “Come again?”

“No need to be modest, I can see through you perfectly!” Vainqueur wiped a tear off his eye with a claw. “You are a dragon’s knight! You have sworn fealty to your beloved dragon master and seek to emulate them! Is there truly a better expression of minionship, of loyalty?”

At this point, Basil realized that this dragon might be a bit… dimwitted.

“Yes,” Basil lied. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

“See?! This is what loyalty looks like!” Vainqueur chastised the party guests. “You should all be ashamed not to have taken this class! I have coddled each of you for decades, and none of you made that courageous step!”

“But Your Majesty, that is not how the class works–” Braniño protested, only for his ex to smash his feet and tell him to be quiet. “Darling!”

“Tell me, Manling Bohen,” Vainqueur told Basil. “Which noble dragon do you serve?”

“Rosemarine,” Basil replied immediately. “Rosemarine Eglantine de la Barthe.”

“A refined, noble name.” Vainqueur nodded appreciatively. “She must be a beautiful wyrm of impeccable character.”

“She’s the only good dragon on Earth, I’m afraid,” Vasi commented. Somehow, her tone implied it was damnation by faint praise.

Vainqueur squinted suspiciously at the witch. “How so?”

Basil realized they had to tread very carefully there. “I dunno about this world, Your Majesty,” he said, trying to get the creature’s attention away from Vasi for her own safety. “But dragons on Earth put slave collars on those they catch and turn the rest to stone.”

Basil half-expected the deity to arrogantly brush him off; after all, he looked about as arrogant and self-absorbed as any Unity dragonlord.

He was mistaken.

“This… this is undragonly!” Vainqueur Knightsbane roared in outrage, flames bursting out of his nostrils. “Minions have rights and paid holidays! We held a whole convention about this!”

“The status of elves is still undecided,” Victor whispered to Basil.

“By the Elder Wyrm, I shall have a word with these backwater dragons about their conduct!” Vainqueur expanded his wings and his scales shone like the sun. Basil and the other guests had to cover their eyes to protect themselves. “Gate to Earth, open!”

To Basil’s astonishment, space ruptured in the middle of the hall. A ring of fire and energy expanded next to Vainqueur. It resembled the same vergence between worlds that appeared during Incursions, but smaller, more localized. A glimpse of the city of Shumen materialized at the center of the portal like the surface of a polished mirror.

Opening a portal between Earth and another world demanded the sacrifice of countless souls to the Neurotowers.

Yet Vainqueur Knightsbane could open one by will alone.

Even Walter Tye couldn’t achieve the same feat.

Basil marveled as the great dragon god took a step towards the gate, striding forward like a conquering horse facing its destiny… only for the gesture to come to a swift and crashing end. Vainqueur Knightsbane hit an invisible obstacle and stumbled back as he touched the portal.

An embarrassed silence stretched on. None of the guests dared to speak a word as Vainqueur Knightsbane tried to walk through the portal once, twice, then thrice to no avail. The barrier that stood between him and Shumen remained intact, indestructible, and eternal.

“Minion, the gate won’t open!” Vainqueur raged as he fruitlessly punched the barrier. “Where is the spare key?”

Victor approached the portal and scratched the back of his head as he examined it. “Your Majesty, the Level Barrier to Earth says level sixty max, with some exceptions for natives returning from trips,” he explained. “You’re forty levels too high.”

“This is an indignity! Because I am strong, I cannot go where I want?” The dragon butted his head against the portal like a frustrated bull. “Where is the logic in this?!”

This thing is a god. Basil had to repeat it to himself to believe it. Vasi looked about as flabbergasted. Oh Lord, this thing is a god.

Eventually, Vainqueur Knightsbane accepted defeat; for the time being. “This is not over,” he said while glaring at the portal. “Not by a long shot.”

“That’s quite worrying though.” Victor crossed his arms. “There was no such thing around Earth last time I checked.”

“I am truly sorry, Manling,” Vainqueur told Basil. “It appears your dragon master will have to bear the burden of enlightening my kindred alone. You must stand strong by her side.”

“I’m trying,” Basil replied, choosing his words very carefully. “But forgive my language, your kindred aren’t exactly open to discussion.”

“Of course they aren’t. When you are at the top of the food chain…” The great dragon marked a short pause before delivering words of wisdom. “Everything starts to look like food.”

“I figured as much,” Basil deadpanned. The dragon was preaching to a convert.

“I too was a reformist surrounded by my backward kindred,” Vainqueur said, blatantly more interested in the sound of his own voice than Basil’s answer. “The Minion Declaration of Rights was an uphill battle. It is difficult to be in the right when everyone else is wrong.”

“Like every genius, His Majesty’s words usually fall on deaf ears,” Victor commented.

The sarcasm completely flew over his master’s head. “Manling Bohen, let us discuss your world,” Vainqueur declared. “It bothers me to let poor minions be oppressed, no matter the universe.”

“Oh yes, you’re staying all night, right?” Victor asked, smiling at Vasi. “I have two decades of bedtime stories to catch up on too.”

“You are very kind,” Vasi said, slightly embarrassed. She appeared conflicted about the proposal, until she glanced at her parents. “But we we were on our way out with moth–”

“I am a dragon,” Vainqueur interrupted her with the tone of an adult chiding a child. “You will stay and be happy.”

Basil was half-tempted to make a jump toward the portal with his girlfriend, but half of the guests present were low-level enough to pursue them through it. He exchanged a glance with Vasi and sighed.

This was going to be a long evening.