Garoth did not rush to immediately set out in search of the fiend.

According to Vira, that thing would most likely come to him on its own.

Before that happened, he decided to first deepen his understanding of this plane, especially the Verdant Home Grove area where he currently stood. As a being from the Material Plane, he needed to learn the rules, resources, and potential dangers or opportunities here.

Garoth first strolled to the edge of a gently flowing brook.

The water was clear to the bottom; he could see smooth pebbles and the occasional silver fish gliding by.

He bent down and lapped a taste of the stream with his tongue.

The cool, sweet liquid slid down his throat. The taste resembled a mountain spring from the Material Plane, yet the sensation was entirely different.

This water carried a sense of peace and purity, as if it could wash away dust from the spirit and clear the mind.

“The water of the Serene Spirit Wilderness really does hold unique energy,” the red-iron dragon pondered.

He reached a claw into the bank and picked up a small clump of moist earth, then put it in his mouth to chew slowly.

The soil released a fresh scent between his teeth, full of plant roots and the vitality of active microbes.

Next he tried a stone by the stream.

Its texture was hard but it crunched pleasantly; then grass, moss, mushrooms...

Under the curious gazes of the fey, the massive red-iron dragon behaved like a newborn cub, sampling everything around him that could be tasted.

“His Majesty Ignas is a vegetarian?” a flower fey hid behind a leaf and whispered.

“He gets that big just by eating dirt and grass? I’m so jealous,” another tree fey chimed in.

The fey murmured among themselves, their voices full of wonder.

Garoth could feel their goodwill.

These little beings seemed born without the ability to hide their emotions; joy, curiosity, and friendliness were all written plainly on their faces.

Garoth ignored their chatter.

He was building a cognitive model of this plane.

His inheritance knowledge told him that outer planes were often bound deeply to concepts or laws, and the Serene Spirit Wilderness was clearly tied to emotions.

The substances here likely carried emotional energy; it simply manifested differently.

His attention was soon drawn to an orchard.

The orchard lay at the heart of the Verdant Home Grove, encircled by a low hedge of shrubs.

The fruit trees were neatly arranged and lush with leaves, each tree heavy with fruit. The fruits varied in shape — some like apples, some like berries, others in forms that would defy the botany of the Material Plane.

Garoth approached a tree and extended a claw.

He plucked a fruit shaped like an apple, its surface shimmering with a gentle halo.

It was warm to the touch and slightly springy.

He brought the fruit to his mouth and bit gently.

Juice splashed.

But what flowed out was not only sweet nectar.

Alongside the liquid poured a pure, sweet, carefree wave of joy, like a warm tide washing across his consciousness.

It carried the anticipation of the fey who tended the trees; the satisfaction of plants nourished by sun and rain; even the faint pride of the fruit itself thinking, “I am finally ripe and can be tasted.”

All these positive emotions braided together into a gentle but powerful spiritual cleansing.

Mental fatigue, worries about the future, every annoyance — before this flood of joy, they vaporized like snow under sunlight.

Garoth felt his spirit grow transparent and full; a long-missing joy filled him, as pure and lovely as the first time a child finds a gem.

“...This...” the red-iron dragon involuntarily stepped back half a pace, his tail sweeping the ground and sending grass and leaves fluttering.

After a few stunned seconds he quickly extended a claw and picked several more fruits of different shapes and colors, putting them into his mouth one by one and closing his eyes to savor them.

Besides joy, there were hope, elation, calm...

Various primarily positive feelings passed over Garoth’s heart.

“These fruits all carry strong emotional energy,” he thought.

Different fruits corresponded to different positive emotions, but the common trait was their purity and gentleness; unlike some mental potions, they did not induce false euphoria or later numbness.

These fruits simply gifted a beautiful feeling to the eater for a time.

When the effect faded, the mind returned to normal, yet felt as if washed clean.

“If these emotion fruits were in the Material Plane, they would be priceless treasures,” Garoth assessed, looking around.

Especially for legendary beings needing stable minds, healing from emotional wounds, or facing breakthrough barriers, a resource that directly affected the spirit without side effects would attract any power.

And across the Verdant Home Grove, the greenery spread luxuriously.

There were a dozen or more similar orchards, and countless fruits.

More importantly, the Verdant Home Grove was but a minor fey habitat in the Serene Spirit Wilderness; this plane contained countless similar regions — not to mention dark lands tied to negative emotions.

“Outer planes really are treasure troves, harboring resources the Material Plane cannot imagine,” Garoth mused.

He began to understand why the Halden Empire, despite the Abyss’s extreme dangers, persisted in exploiting outer planes.

They must have tasted great profit from the Abyss, resources that could change the course of development, making them unable to resist the risk.

“Vira.”

Garoth turned his head and looked at the faerie dragon.

Vira clutched a berry nearly the size of her body, gnawing with juice dripping down.

Hearing the call, she lifted her small, juice-smeared face and wagged her tail. “Hmm?”

“Do these fruits have names?” Garoth asked, pointing with his claw to the colorful fruits hanging in the branches.

“Names?” Vira blinked, raising her berry proudly.

“This one’s called Red-Glow. Eat it and you feel happy!”

She flapped her wings up and began introducing the fruits to Garoth one by one.

“That golden one’s called Gold-Glory. Eat it and you feel amazing — super confident. Deep-blue is called Calm-Blue, it makes you peaceful and sleepy. Pale purple is called Violet-Gleam, it helps you understand others...”

The faerie dragon circled the orchard, introducing nearly every type of fruit.

Their names were simple and direct, fitting the fey’s innocent and straightforward thinking.

“Are these special to the Verdant Home Grove, or do they grow across the whole Serene Spirit Wilderness?” Garoth asked.

“Of course they’re everywhere!” Vira landed on a branch and tilted her head.

“They’re not rare. Every fey settlement grows these fruits; they’re a main food source for us.”

“Are their effects always this strong?”

“Obviously, though they’re not always this powerful every day,” Vira thought for a moment and added, “See, you came today and everyone’s so happy. The fruits absorbed more of our joy, so they’re sweeter and fuller than usual!”

She swallowed the last bite and patted her round belly, continuing to explain.

“In the Serene Spirit Wilderness, fey emotions affect everything around them.”

“The happier and more attentive we are, the better the plants grow and the tastier the fruits. If we’re sad or afraid, the fruits turn sour or even wither.”

“But the Serene Spirit Wilderness isn’t just about good fruits.”

Vira’s expression turned serious. “In places where bad fey live, like the Wailing Forest or the Marsh of Resentment, you’ll get rotten fruits like Black-Hush or Gray-Dim.”

“Eat those and you’ll have nightmares, lose your temper, or feel deep pain...”

“They taste awful and make fey worse.”

Garoth nodded thoughtfully.

This confirmed parts of his hypothesis and his inheritance knowledge.

The Serene Spirit Wilderness was a plane of emotional polarization.

Positive emotions such as joy and hope nurtured fertile lands and uplifting fruits like those in Verdant Home Grove; negative emotions like fear, rage, and despair bred dark regions, harmful fruits, and the evil fey.

“Those so-called bad fruits probably have uses too,” Garoth considered.

Fruits carrying negative emotions might have special value for interrogations, curses, or dark rituals in particular contexts.

But he had little interest.

Trouble from negative emotions generally outnumbered their benefits.

This raised another question: if the Aola Kingdom wanted to develop the Serene Spirit Wilderness, which side should they ally with?

The benevolent fey of Verdant Home Grove, or the evil fey?

Garoth’s answer formed quickly.

First, because of the Red Emperor story Vira spread, he already had a good reputational foot in with the kind fey.

As long as he kept a gentle and friendly approach, earning the trust of these simple beings would be easy.

By contrast, evil fey were cunning, fickle, and chaotic; dealing with them would be twice the effort for half the result.

More importantly, the Serene Spirit Wilderness was not a weak place.

The Material Plane’s idea of “developing” a plane sounded grand, but in practice was often scavenging, sometimes even “picking through trash.”

There was another significant reason.

The Serene Spirit Wilderness had benevolent deities as well as malevolent ones, but benevolence predominated.

For example, gods who protected the fey.

The entire forest god pantheon paid attention to changes in the Serene Spirit Wilderness.

That pantheon was called the Court of Joy in the dragon inheritance, with most gods leaning chaotic good to neutral.

“A plane is vast; a deity’s gaze is not confined to a single plane or world,” Garoth thought.

“The probability of being noticed is low. But if they were noticed... and if I showed up as a violent conqueror and plunderer, I would likely face the gods of the Court of Joy.”

If he were an indigenous entity here, like a fiend born of the stories, then even if he harmed many fey, as long as he didn’t threaten the plane itself, the gods would likely not intervene. Local strife was part of natural change, and the gods seldom interfered.

But he was not native to this place.

Arriving as an invader could anger local gods and invite unnecessary trouble. In contrast, chaotic evil gods rarely sheltered their own followers; they acted selfishly and were unlikely to intervene.

“Vira,” Garoth spoke again. “After this fiend is dealt with, I want to talk with you or representatives from other fey settlements you can contact.”

The faerie dragon hovered closer in curiosity.

“Talk about what?”

“About establishing a long-term cooperation.”

Garoth said, “A mutually beneficial alliance.”

“The Aola Kingdom could trade Material Plane goods for your special produce, and offer protection — station guards and even invite other dragons to serve as guardians.”

Fey were generally poor fighters and disliked combat; Vira was an exception.

Before the faerie dragon, a unicorn had guarded Verdant Home Grove, not the fey themselves.

Other fey settlements were similar, usually protected by a benevolent guardian that the fey supported with emotional value and positive foods.

Cooperation for coexistence was the survival norm in the Serene Spirit Wilderness.

If the Aola Kingdom provided guards and carried the Red Emperor’s good reputation, the fey would usually accept suitable conditions.

They preferred worry-free lives rather than constant fear of attack.

When Vira heard Garoth’s words, her eyes brightened. “You mean... trade? Use our fruits and good things for Material Plane treasures? And dragons would protect us?”

“That’s right.” Garoth nodded. “Like trade between kingdoms, but across planes. For protection, the Aola Kingdom is willing to ally with benevolent fey to jointly resist evil creatures.”

“Yay!”

Vira twirled in the air, flapping her wings excitedly.

“My friends will be so happy! They’re so curious about the Material Plane — the creatures and all the fun things!”

She darted off to spread the news.

Soon, the entire Verdant Home Grove buzzed with heightened joy as fey whispered and cast expectant, friendly glances at Garoth.

Garoth maintained his young-dragon-bodied posture and walked the grove.

He carefully observed vegetation, terrain, and fey lifestyles.

The Verdant Home Grove covered a fair area; its center held orchards and residences, the periphery forests and meadows.

Fey homes varied: some lived in tree hollows, some under mushroom caps, some in hammock-like vines.

The population was neither too large nor too small, roughly thirty thousand fey of diverse species — flower fey, tree spirits, stream nymphs, light sprites — from palm-sized to half-human height.

They lived in groups, small family units or hobby circles, tending plants, harvesting fruits, maintaining the environment, and occasionally holding song-and-dance festivals. Their pace was slow and joyful, with almost no quarrels.

“Truly an ideal utopia,” Garoth thought.

But such peace meant fragility.

When evil creatures attacked, the fey had almost no resistance and relied on their guardians.

Meanwhile, in a shadowed hollow a short distance away...

Roots twisted and rotten moss matted the ground, the malformed canopy letting little sunlight through.

In a deep cave, darkness moved like a living thing, whispers echoing across stone.

At the center, a shadow composed of countless broken images and dark emotions rose and fell.

This was the fiend, Mosiro.

Fiends often sprang from vicious lies or dark origins.

Mosiro was the latter, born of a tale.

Long ago, a rebellious fey craved power and betrayed the trust of their guardian and companions, stealing a legendary demonic sword. The sword brought not power but disaster: the homeland was destroyed and companions perished.

The remorse-ridden fey became a monster, forever wandering the wilderness, devouring any creature it met and filling its void with their blood and fear.

That story — full of betrayal, lies, and despair — concretized under the Serene Spirit Wilderness’s rules and gave birth to Mosiro.

It was both the product of the story and utterly convinced it was the remorseful fey within the tale.

Its consciousness was confused and tormented; its only solace was devouring other stories and emotions, especially tales of might, conquest, dignity, and legend.

Not long ago, it heard the Red Emperor story.

The concepts of “power,” “conquest,” “majesty,” and “legend” were exquisite fare to Mosiro.

So it attacked the Verdant Home Grove and defeated Vira’s Red Emperor avatar, devouring it.

Now Mosiro was digesting that meal.

Its shadowy surface occasionally showed spectral dragon heads, huge claws slashing, and bursts of dragon breath.

In doing so it absorbed fragments of the Red Emperor’s concept of power and combat style, even simulating some semblance of formidable traits.

Still, a sense of incompleteness gnawed at it.

“Incomplete... incomplete...” a hoarse whisper escaped the shadow. Creator... the story’s source... that faerie dragon... she’s still alive...

A thought flickered through Mosiro’s confused mind.

It had not devoured the story’s creator, only part of the projected power, so its gains were incomplete.

That faerie dragon might still live in the Verdant Home Grove and could be trying to regroup.

“Return... eat her... complete the story... then... perhaps I can truly become the Red Emperor?”

“If I had true power... I wouldn’t have killed my companions... my homeland wouldn’t have been destroyed...”

The shadow writhed violently.

Born of story, the fiend believed wholeheartedly in its tale.

In Mosiro’s twisted perception, it was both the fiend and the fey who killed all companions and shattered the home.

Endless remorse and longing for power intertwined to drive its decision.

The shadow flowed out of the cave like viscous black liquid, sliding along shaded paths toward the Verdant Home Grove.

Where it passed, grass withered, flowers drooped, even light seemed partly siphoned away.

Before long, the joyful, life-filled fey habitat was in sight.

Mosiro clearly sensed the pervasive joy in the air.

That emotion disgusted it.

Why could these fey revel in joy while it lived in eternal torment?

“Let them be happy for now...” the fiend rasped, “Then I will bring in fear and despair... their joy will become richer nourishment...”

In the Serene Spirit Wilderness, strong malice itself shone like a lighthouse in the dark.

The fiend did not hide its form — it did not need to.

For the fey of Verdant Home Grove, concealment made no difference; they could not resist.

Mosiro appeared on the grass at the grove’s edge as a shadow exuding an omen-like aura.

Its form rose and gradually coalesced into a vague outline.

“...Faerie dragon... come out...” Mosiro’s voice grated like nails on glass. “Offer me your story... your soul... completely...”

Its arrival sparked commotion; the fey dove behind trees and rocks.

But unlike last time, the fear this time was not purely terror — it mixed with a kind of...expectation? Even faint excitement.

Mosiro was momentarily puzzled, but its muddled mind could not analyze deeply; it assumed the fey were stunned by fear.

At that moment, a figure flew out from the orchard and landed before the fiend.

A red-iron dragon stood there, sturdy in posture; his black-red scales glinted metallic in the sun. He was only about ten meters long, and his breath did not seem fierce — in the fiend’s eyes, noticeably small. It looked like the weak form of the faerie dragon.

“You have only that small power...and you don’t flee?” Mosiro rasped with a cruel laugh. “Good...eat you...I will become more whole...”

It didn’t waste words.

The shadow surged; scales and then a stately dragon head, a magnificent body and sharp claws quickly formed on its surface.

It took the guise of the Red Emperor.

Over thirty meters long, wings spread like a blotting shadow across the sky, exuding a warped, overwhelming might.

“Die! Your story and soul are mine!”

“From this day forth...I am the true Red Emperor!”

The fiend roared and lunged at the small red-iron dragon with tearing claws and a shriek that split the air.

Its movements were fierce and brutal, claws probing to seal every dodge space.

This was the combat style it had gleaned from the Red Emperor story: crush with absolute force, allow no chance to the opponent.

The little red-iron dragon stood its ground without moving.

Before Mosiro’s claws could touch him —

Crunch!

A vast, oceanic Dragon Qi erupted from the small dragon!

The seemingly small body bloomed as if inflated, bulking into a majestic frame, cold, resolute eyes, muscled like forged steel, and an aura tempered by countless fires of blood...

The true Red Emperor, Garoth Ignas, shed the camouflage.

His body far exceeded the fiend’s dragon form. Merely standing there he felt like an immovable mountain. When his wings unfurled, the shadow they cast covered a large meadow.

“What?!”

Mosiro sensed danger, but its lunge could not be withdrawn.

Garoth did not even raise a claw.

He merely turned his enormous bulk slightly, using the part covered in heavy shoulder armor to butt into the incoming counterfeit.

Boom!

The impact was not loud, more like the dull thud of a heavy object striking water.

But at the moment of contact, the fiend’s dragon guise slammed into an iron mountain and began to shatter.

Scales cracked, shadow splintered.

The thirty-meter dragon shape collapsed like a sand sculpture struck by a hammer, fragmented into countless pieces and scattered.

“Whaa!!!”

The fey erupted in cheering.

They leaped from hiding places, waving limbs and dancing.

“Long live His Majesty!”

“One shove and the fake shattered!”

“Amazing! Incredible!”

Garoth enjoyed their praise and felt his spirits lift.

He shook his head, his tail waving, and then said aloud, “Louder! Cheer louder so I can feel your joy!”

The fey obliged eagerly.

They leapt higher, sang joyful refrains, and offered more fervent cheers.

The Verdant Home Grove became like a festival; even the fruit trees seemed to sway to the rhythm.

Garoth nodded in satisfaction and turned his gaze back to the battlefield.

The fiend was not dead.

The scattered shadow fragments were reassembling.

This time its size was slightly reduced but it still maintained the Red Emperor form, and its aura of malice and madness had intensified.

“Impossible... impossible! I am the Red Emperor!”

Mosiro screamed in confusion.

It could not accept being so easily shattered by the genuine article; its thoughts plunged deeper into madness.

“Power... I want greater power! I am the invincible Red Emperor... I will not lose!”

A deep dark purple light flared at the fiend’s core.

Roar!

The fiend reared its head and surged with golden lightning and black-red flames, swelling in size.

Its neck tore and an extra, slightly smaller dragon head sprouted; shoulders bulged and burst, producing two additional forelimbs, and red-petaled, seductive patterns rippled across its skin.

It had become a two-headed, four-armed ultimate form.

Then its four claws plunged into its own body, drawing on the dark purple light and forcefully pulling outward!

Crunch!

The light extended, interwove, and solidified into four twisted dark-purple magic swords.

Their blades bore eye-like patterns, and space itself warped along their edges as if light were being sliced.

This was a concretization of the “legendary demonic sword” from its birth story, the core of its power; it had earlier used this sword to defeat Vira’s Red Emperor avatar.

Now the fiend fused the sword’s might with the Red Emperor form.

Its danger radiance far surpassed before.

However, the fey showed no fear.

Their faith in Garoth had become blind and absolute; they continued to cheer and even began betting how many seconds the fiend would last this time.

Garoth inspected the fiend’s new form with amusement, his dragon-lips curving into a near-smile.

Then he moved.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Like fire under oil, surging Dragon Qi erupted from him and spiraled around his body. In an instant he took on a fierce three-headed, six-armed posture!

All six claws clenched as Dragon Qi shaped into spears.

Interwoven spears of thunderflame, gold and black-red in color, formed in his claws.

“Haha...fake! You really are fake!” the fiend shrieked in a twisted laugh upon seeing an aspect of the Red Emperor story that had never existed before, as if this proved it was the true one.

“There is no such thing in the story... you’re lying to me!”

“Story?” Garoth’s middle head spoke, “That was only my past.”

No sooner had he spoken than the fiend lunged with its four twisted magic swords in its two-headed, four-armed posture.

Its assault was wild; the four swords slashed from different angles, sealing off all of Garoth’s evasion.

Garoth did not retreat; he advanced. All six arms moved.

The thunderflame spears became a web of spear shadows, meeting the attack head-on!

Attack them with attack, trade wound for wound.

Rip! Rip!

Tearing sounds rang almost simultaneously.

The fiend’s four swords did hit.

Two slashes sheared Garoth’s left shoulder armor, one sliced across chest and abdomen, the last struck his back.

Garoth, normally able to stand against legendary weapons, felt as if his hide had been cut like leather, leaving four deep wounds visible to bone.

The fiend’s swords carried properties Garoth had never encountered.

They seemed to bypass physical and magical resistances and directly affect “existence” itself — a rare damage type that would make crown-level beings in the Material Plane uneasy.

But Garoth welcomed it.

The wounds’ flesh swelled and closed with visible speed; his body rapidly regenerated and adapted to that damage, producing corresponding resistance in combat.

His counterattack was even more decisive.

All six thunderflame spears struck the fiend’s torso, limbs, and one head simultaneously.

The mighty body collapsed like rotten wood before the spears.

The spear tips pierced and penetrated without hindrance, then Dragon Qi erupted inside.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Concussive explosions sounded.

The fiend’s body was blown into six large gaping holes.

Rip!

Garoth’s six arms exerted outward force and the spears shot up, tearing the fiend apart into major chunks!

He did not immediately finish the assault; instead he waited as the fiend tried to reconstitute.

“No! I won’t believe it! I am the Red Emperor! I am invincible!”

The fiend raged. After reforming, its four swords glittered and it attacked Garoth again.

But it was the fake.

Opposite it, the real Red Emperor moved faster and harder!

Garoth abandoned defense, letting the fiend’s swords rip his body.

At the same time, his three heads watched in all directions, senses locked on the fiend. All six arms swung, and the thunderflame spears became a rain of death, stabbing, cleaving, and sweeping from every angle.

Each blow scattered the fiend’s form.

The fiend’s counterattacks occasionally added new wounds to Garoth, but as time went on, despite the swords’ unweakened power, the new wounds became progressively shallower than at the start.

The battlefield turned into one-sided crushing dominance.

The fey watched, dazed and dazzled, cheering in rising waves.

They only saw the great Red Emperor toy with the evil fiend like a child’s plaything, repeatedly crushing it; his wounds healed fast and his breath remained steady.

This composed mastery revealed more strength than wild ferocity.

Finally, after the fifteenth shattering, a sliver of clarity seeped into the fiend’s thoughts.

Flee!

The thought flashed like lightning through its chaotic mind.

Fragments stopped trying to gather into a dragon and instead assembled into a large-winged hawk form.

The hawk flapped once; lightning danced across its body and its speed shot up like an arrow loosed from a bow, streaking away.

“Trying to run?”

All three of Garoth’s heads rose and locked eyes on the fleeing fiend.

The True Eye tracked every escape vector precisely.

Then all six eyes widened in a synchronized glare.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Brilliant flames bloomed in midair, and the fiend trembled.

At the same time, Garoth unfurled all six arms and hurled his thunderflame spears.

The moment the spears left his grasp they broke the sound barrier, becoming six golden-red streaks carving dangerous arcs and striking the trapped fiend from different directions.

Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thrust! Thrust!

Six near-simultaneous penetrations.

The spears pierced the hawk form’s wings, torso, and head; the momentum drove the fiend’s body back and speared it to the ground.

Then, deprived of Garoth’s controlling presence, the thrown spears lost balance.

Boom!

A deafening explosion.

All spears detonated together, blasting the ground into a crater and pulverizing the fiend.

But Garoth knew that was not sufficient.

Sure enough, seconds later faint dark motes of light began to appear in the air.

This time he gave it no chance to re-form.

Claim Life!

Garoth extended his claws and used the siphoning pull to drag the light motes to him. Then, using his Spell-Extinguishing Claws, he closed them in, compressing and sealing.

“No... no... I am the Red Emperor... I should be...”

The fiend’s voice came from the orb, filled with unwillingness and confusion.

“You are nothing,” Garoth said calmly.

His claws closed fully.

All shadowy motes, story fragments, and negative emotions were compressed and sealed into a black orb.

Mosiro, the fiend born of story, was sealed by Garoth’s Spell-Extinguishing Claws and became a trophy in his palm.

Garoth was stronger unarmed.

His claws were his deadliest weapon.

“The inheritance mentioned that fiends are difficult to permanently destroy,” Garoth mused as he weighed the crystal orb. “As long as their birth story persists in circulation, they can draw power and revive. But the Spell-Extinguishing Claws’ seal should sever that link. At least while it’s in my grasp, it won’t get out.”

The fight ended.

He reverted from the three-headed, six-armed form back to normal.

All the wounds from the demonic swords had already healed; not even scars remained.

Moreover, he felt clearly that his body had developed a special resistance to attacks like the fiend’s swords; next time similar strikes would deal reduced damage.

“Awesome!!!” Vira cheered, circling Garoth and hovering before him, eyes fixed on the black crystal orb in his claw. “You sealed it?”

“Sort of,” Garoth replied, presenting the orb to Vira, “but it mustn’t leave my claw.”

This was a weakness of the Spell-Extinguishing Claws; there was room for improvement.

“Oh, then give it to me! I will seal the fiend!”

Vira puffed out her small chest and stretched her foreclaws.

Garoth handed the orb over.

Vira eagerly placed her paws on it and chanted a charm.

Images from the Red Emperor story were drawn out and returned to her body; she reclaimed her power.

Then countless lock-like runes rose like chains, wrapping the fiend orb.

“Done! Perfect seal!” Vira patted her claws. “Now it can’t get out to harm anyone! Here, for you.”

She handed the fiend orb back to Garoth.

He examined it for a few seconds, then accepted it and stowed it in a spatial item.

It would make a fine memento, and given its special lifeform, it might have unexpected uses.

“Your Majesty is amazing!”

“That evil thing can never hurt anyone again!”

“We should hold a celebration!”

The fey chattered excitedly.

Under Vira’s direction, an impromptu celebration began.

They plucked the freshest fruits, brought out stored honey and morning dew, and set a feast in the central clearing.

They sang, danced, and told jokes; the Verdant Home Grove bathed in jubilation.

Garoth lay aside and watched the festivities.

He ate a Red-Glow fruit to let joy wash away the aftereffects of battle; then a Tingles-Delight that made him feel pleasantly tingly and euphoric...

Finally he tasted the fey’s offered honey — a fermented blend of the first dewdrops and the softest petals of hundreds of flowers. Sweet with complex floral aroma, each mouthful felt like tasting a sea of blossoms.

“Serene Spirit Wilderness...” the red-iron dragon murmured, “truly a place full of surprises.”

No wonder intelligent beings who had traveled planes found it difficult to stay quietly in the Material Plane, especially for long-lived mighty creatures who had lived many seasons; the wonders of other planes carried an irresistible lure.