
@ElderGod-kirky group
"I never said that," she said, resting her head on the back of her chair.
"I never said that," she said, resting her head on the back of her chair.
"Any clue how we're supposed to fight a demon king with millions of minions at his disposal?" he asked. "It's the main reason for all of this."
"Well–from my personal experience with fucking with assholes–blow a few holes in his ship. Take out large chunks of his following. He won't bat an eye until it's too late and he suddenly realizes that 'oh shit, they took out half my army.' Little chunks add up."
"Taking the fight to him," he mused. "I like it. How stupid are these minions? Stupid enough to cast spells at me?"
"They're Nagabons. Mindless brutes that kill first and don't bother with questions because their brains are too small to form questions."
His eyes went alight with an idea. "Where is the closest place to find a lot of them?"
"The Nazek training grounds. The dragon warriors–aka, Alaunians–keep them for target practice. They are who I'm trying to contact, actually, so I can toss in a request if you want." She arched a brow in inquiry.
"I don't want it in a controlled environment," Runner said, a sly look on his face. "I want it to look like an all out war."
Now she was intrigued. "I mean, they'll still have to bring some of those brutes with them when they come here, but we can set them loose like they would be during a war. They'd be pissed enough to make it accurate." She bit her lip. "Oooooor…we go to a nearby camp that I know some are still at, even though it's abandoned."
"My idea," he said, rubbing his chin, "Is to find a way to make it look like there's way more than just me and you on this mission. Intimidate the shit outta him."
She cocked her head. "Hit him at different places simultaneously?" Her eyes lit up. "I know how to set up really big explosions so they go off at a certain time if that's what you mean."
"I want to be one of the explosions. We need to show our faces so he knows we aren't fucking around."
She tapped her lips thoughtfully, pouting them slightly as she did so. Force of habit more than anything. Then she snapped her fingers. "Portals. We hop around through invisible portals so that we're at multiple places 'at once' while we're bombing the fuck out of them."
His eyes gleamed. "Perfect. We'll need to put the portals in place before the attack so we wont have to worry about making them on the spot."
She nodded and turned back around to add that little tidbit in the letter to the warrior group. "Lemme tell them so that they can hunt down different camps for us to target. Now that we got that down, we just need to focus on your training."
"….Do I get a pan?" he asked, dead serious.
She snorted. "I mean, if you can bash some faces in with it, I guess."
"That's why I always used a cast iron skillet. Those things weighed a ton." He got up from the bed and yawned again. "Anyways, are we gonna train, or what?"
She signed the letter, a mix of pretty and sloppy cursive with a smiley face. "You're too tired. Better to train with a clear mind than a groggy one."
"So what do you suggest?" he asked. He didn't even bother denying her statement.
(my mother just mentioned a cast iron skillet and I'm concerned now. Too coincidental)
"Sleep. I'll get us some food and more permanent housing for the time being." She got up and ruffled his hair with a half smile.
(I'm your mom)
He blushed slightly, hoping it wasn't too noticeable.
"Do I have to?" he asked.
(That's just weird)
"Your yawning is putting me to sleep." She poked his side. "Go take another nap, Princeling. I'll wake you up when I got the food."
He sighed out of his nose, but he couldn't disagree with her. "Alright, alright," Runner said, standing up and yawning.
She sighed as well and moved behind him to lightly push on his back, moving him out of her room and into his. "C'mon sleepy head. Andiamo a dormire."
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