Before the Trial had even begun, Monarkea had been preparing for the event. It was a rather simple thing to do normally, although this was the first instance of it, but that merely meant that she could set the standard by which all subsequent iterations of it could be measured to.

As stated, she had prepared ahead of time, setting events in motion and arranging pieces in place all so that her rampage would cause the maximum among of destruction while generating the maximum amount of treasure along the way. Most dragons of adult age could use a bit of alchemy or maybe magic to forcibly transform things into other things, and usually this was used to turn one thing of lesser value or visual worth into something far more valuable.

But rare among even the elder dragons was the ability to just turn people and things into valuable materials while also razing everything around them. Likewise, few, even among the older, more experienced dragons, had access to what Lord Vaile and others of his kind called an ‘Item Box’.

Vyviir certainly had access to one, but it was unknown if the Vyviir that currently was around did, but if there was one singular truth, it was that Monarkea definitely had one. The process of making one had been long, arduous, and costly, but after wiping out fifteen iterations of the Dragon’s Domain and claiming everything left over as materials, she finally got a tool of the gods themselves and was able to break and abuse the very laws of reality to store obscene amounts of stuff in a pocket dimension without any size or weight restrictions.

And, as a result of this, she had amassed quite a massive collection of both statue-ified living things, random valuables, and other such things that she had amassed during her rampage. While her father, or maybe what was pretending to be him, was off doing Vaile knows what, she had used her time wisely, both before and during this little competition.

Despite wiping the board clean every few generations, she had, through experience, learned the best way to foster the germination and growth of cults dedicated to her and her kind. As a result, in this iteration of the grand game she had played so many times over by now she had a cult dedicated to her that possessed enough power and influence to move everything around, and what they could not move around they let her know the location of, all to give her the maximum edge in this contest.

It was almost tragic that her father, or what was left of him at this point, was acting like a newly hatched whelp, while she, many centuries younger and much, much smaller and less powerful, had to be the one to act like the wise and knowledgeable adult. Still, though, her actions prior to the contest ‘starting’ were born of a desire to not just defeat the being that claimed to be her father, but to show that she could and would be worthy of taking his mantle, whether he was actually still alive or not.

And, of course, there were other reasons. She loved ravaging the lands of these lesser creatures. The Races were only worthy of living as the amusement of beings like her, or as nothing more than food. That others in the Alliance treated them as equals when their goals aligned sickened her, but then again, how could she ever expect non-dragons to make any kind of long-term, completely sane, and utterly logical conclusions?

Those damn rat whores proved her point, time and again. They were vile, traitorous sluts that dared to try and keep Lord Vaile away from where he was destined to rule from and away from those he was destined to rule with. She at least shared that with her shell of a father; her conviction that she was meant to rule at Lord Vaile’s side over a world where Dragons ruled over all things.

“Hmph..” Monarkea grunted as she shook her head. She needed to keep her mind in the game. Wasting energy on thinking about the future could wait until she had won. Besides, Lord Vaile had essentially given her victory on an Adamantite platter, not that she and he had not already agreed to that ahead of time.

Her father could pull all manner of tricks, but short of killing her, what could he do aside from rage like a child?

Then she felt it, washing over the whole of the basin like a tidal wave of rage, envy, malice, and fury.

And it was then she realized that she probably should have not had that last thought, as it seemed that she was capable of bringing her dread into reality. Either that, or Vyviir had truly gone off the deep end, which was entirely possible at this point.

After all, she had hit every major place this Domain had, and she had amassed enough treasure to dwarf anything her old man could gather in the few minutes left until the Trial ended. Maybe, as his or whatever controlled his body’s last gamble turned up as naught but a failure and his and/ or his puppet masters’ defeat became a certainty, the powers at be finally decided that if they could not claim the Domain, then no one and nothing could.

Still, there was one silver lining to all of this. If he lashed out against her, he would forfeit the Trial, and he would instantly invoke the contract that both had bund to their very souls. Likewise, he could not simply teleport her away to avoid that clause, as that would violate the contract as well, thus robbing him of his power and such with the same fury and force that would have come had he lashed out at her in a lethal manner.

But then she noticed that her father, or the controlled version of him, was not aiming its wrath at her, but instead aiming a breath attack charged with nearly half of his life essence towards a certain place where a certain person sat watching the whole show.

“YOU BASTARD!” Monarkea screamed as she turned around and tried to come between her father’s charging attack and Lord Vaile. If she did this, if she made it in time, then the contract’s terms would seal the win for her. But… if she didn’t….

She could not think about that possibility ad charged ahead, barely able to get close enough before her father unleashed a blast large enough to incinerate everything for over one hundred thousand miles in front of him and erase the area around his body for over ten miles.