Clouds Above the Red Dragon Boat

The colossal bird ascended, shrieking with a sound that split the heavens. Its wings stirred violent winds, and the sky trembled as the battle shifted to a whole new, chaotic level.

Mathilda stood on the immobilized pink cloud, unfazed by the incoming doom. She reached into her small handbag, rummaging around with the confidence of someone who absolutely did not know what she packed inside. "Where is it... aha!" she chirped. Without hesitation, she began tossing potions over her shoulder like a chef flinging ingredients into a chaotic soup.

Several shattered on the cloud’s fluffy surface, instantly sprouting strange, bouncing mushrooms—round, sussy, and wobbling in ways that made Lady Reaper question life. Others burst open and transformed into bizarre plants with glistening, dripping holes that oozed thick, oil-like liquid. They pulsated gently, like living things with questionable morals.

Lady Reaper raised an eyebrow, her bunny ears twitching. "Do I even want to know what those are?"

Mathilda proudly held up a bright blue vial. "This one is called the Handsome Captain Potion. Whatever it touches becomes instantly... wet." She winked behind her plague mask.

Lady Reaper touched her forehead, then her ears. "MC... you really, really need to work on your naming sense."

"No time for branding issues!" Mathilda spun dramatically, grabbed three more potions with labels scribbled in absolute chaos, and hurled them with perfect form toward the incoming Red Skulls.

The vials arced through the sky and shattered beautifully against the colossal bird and the swarm behind it. Thick, sparkling liquid splashed everywhere—coating the Red Skulls from jaw to wing. In seconds, their cohesion broke apart. The fused structures slipped, wobbled, then fell apart like magnets losing all pull.

One by one, they fell—more like tumbling blobs of wet clay—unable to stick back together.

Below, the skulls fell on the Dragon boat - hitting the deck.

Above them, a furious voice bellowed.

"Nooo... this can’t be happening!" screamed the man controlling the Red Skulls. Standing atop the trembling pink cloud, he jerked violently, struggling to regain control. His VR helmet flickered erratically, red runes flashing like a glitching game.

Determined, he forced his hands forward. The remaining skulls responded instantly, merging around his body— even though one or two still slipped away with a comical squishy noise.

But instead of forming a monstrous titan like before...

They fused into a massive, wriggling, trembling slime-like creature wrapped around him. A grotesque, oversized blob with skulls floating half-melted inside its jelly-like body.

"I will definitely kill you all!" the man roared, voice breaking between rage and humiliation.

With another burst of frustration, he ripped the VR helmet off, throwing it aside. It vanished into the cloud below with a muffled thud.

His face was revealed—pale, sweaty, contorted in fury.

But what stood out most was his eye.

No—not eyes.

Just one.

A single, giant, glaring eye that pulsed with maddening red light.

And that eye locked onto Mathilda and Lady Reaper with murderous intent.

The air chilled.

The battle, once chaotic, had just become personal.

---

The boy had always been different.

Born with only one eye—a large, obsidian orb inherited from the diluted orc bloodline buried deep within his ancestry—he became the target of every child in the village. They mocked him relentlessly, calling him a monster, a demon, a freak. His mother tried her best to shield him, but even her gentle hands could not protect him from the cruelty of humans.

So the boy stayed deep in the forest with her, far away from hateful stares. She taught him how to forage, how to survive, how to smile even when he cried. She always told him he wasn’t cursed.

But he never believed it.

One day, longing for what he could never have, he wrapped his head in cloth and decided to try playing with the village children. Just once. Just for a moment of normalcy.

But even that disguise became another excuse to bully him. They ripped the cloth away, pointed, laughed, screamed.

He ran home—crying, trembling—hoping for comfort.

Instead, he found his hut empty.

At first, he thought she had left him. And strangely... he wasn’t angry. He thought perhaps she deserved a life without burden, a life where she didn’t have to protect him anymore. He comforted himself with that lie, even smiling through tears.

But two months later, the truth surfaced.

In the village graveyard, he found a shallow pit. Inside it lay a skull—cracked, battered... and unmistakably hers. The villagers had not abandoned her. They had beaten her to death for sheltering him.

His world shattered that day.

His scream echoed through the forest for hours. He cried until his voice disappeared, until his throat bled, until his tears dried. For a full month, he stayed beside her grave, refusing food, refusing sleep. His heart rotted with grief, and resentment seeped into his very bones.

And then something impossible happened.

Her skull twitched.

The boy froze. His breath hitched. When he touched it, the skull shivered—as if responding to him. As if answering his pain.

Then another skull rattled.

Then another.

Soon, every skull in the graveyard rose, floating into the air like macabre puppets awaiting orders.

That night, the village burned. Every villager perished beneath a tide of skulls that obeyed only the boy’s silent agony.

Years passed.

The boy grew into a man—hulking, orc-like, his single eye glowing with unnatural power. He slept on a mountain of skulls, surrounded by corpses of women used, tortured, and discarded. His hatred had only deepened.

A stranger stood before him now, examining him with intrigue. "Ancient orc shaman black magic... but every time he uses it, his lifespan burns away."

The one-eyed man stirred, glaring. "Who are you?"

"You may call me the Red Dragon Master," the newcomer replied. Immortal-level aura exploded from him, shaking the skulls. "Join me. Rule the seas under my name."

He lifted a gleaming artifact—an ancient replica with advanced tech integration.

"With this, you can channel your bloodline into it. No more losing lifespan. No more limits."

The one-eyed man’s heartbeat thundered.

Power... without sacrifice.

A deal with the devil had begun.

---

Back to the Present

The orc-like man ripped the VR helmet off, his lone eye pulsing violently as crimson veins crawled across his face. The moment the device left his skin, his body trembled—his lifespan burning away with every heartbeat. It was the cost of using that forbidden power, and now, in his rage, he no longer cared.

"You... all of you... I will kill every last one of you!" he roared, voice shaking the sky.

In response, the floating skulls around him vibrated with renewed fury. The crimson mist they released surged toward him, fusing into a monstrous form. Bones twisted, merged, and elongated until a massive dragon-shaped construct of skulls roared into existence above the clouds. Neon-red light poured from every crevice.

Mathilda blinked behind her plague mask as the monstrous dragon pressed against the air with crushing force.

"Well... that’s troublesome."

The dragon Skull-Construct slammed its tail around, sending shockwaves that nearly knocked Mathilda off the cloud. She stumbled once, then casually stepped back.

"He’s all yours," she said, waving dismissively toward Lady Reaper.

Lady Reaper shot her a flat, annoyed look—ears twitching. "You could’ve said something earlier."

Mathilda shrugged. "You’re the one with a Domain."

With a sigh, Lady Reaper extended her hand.

"Domain," she whispered.

A massive red shrine materialized behind her, floating above the cloud. Its ancient beams glowed, radiating her authority. Chains of red energy unfurled like spectral ribbons.

Lady Reaper’s eyes narrowed.

"Reverse."

The air cracked.

Time itself twisted—only for the skull dragon.

The massive beast shuddered violently as its form unraveled, the bones collapsing backward. A few seconds rewound, forcing the fusion to return to its unstable state.

The giant dragon shrank... contorted... collapsed... then reverted into the enormous slime-like mass that had formed earlier. The slime wobbled once—confused—before bursting into scattered pieces.

The orc man gasped, panic flooding his lone eye. "W-What... what is this? What—"

He didn’t get to finish.

A gleaming scythe appeared before his vision.

A red-eyed bunny girl with snow-white ears and a dangerously sexy black bunny outfit hovered before him—Lady Reaper herself. Her expression was calm, but her murderous intent was suffocating.

In one smooth motion, she swung the scythe.

The blade passed through his neck with effortless grace.

FWIP—

A clean cut.

His head spun through the air before falling into the cloud like a dropped fruit. His body twitched once before collapsing.

Instantly, the Skull-Light around him dimmed. The thousands of floating skull fragments lost their vivid red shine, fading to a dull neon ember as they plummeted from the sky like dying stars.

Mathilda clasped her hands. "Collect his body! That guy is valuable material!"

Lady Reaper released a long, tired exhale. "...You and your ’materials.’"

Still, she wordlessly extended her hand. Chains from her domain wrapped around the corpse, lifting it gently.

"And the skulls too!" Mathilda added loudly.

Lady Reaper froze.

Mathilda waved both arms. "Don’t let even one escape! "

Lady Reaper turned slowly. Her eye twitched. She raised her scythe—just an inch—clearly contemplating whether to slice Mathilda in half.

But she didn’t.

Because she was a slave bound by contract.

Instead, she said nothing, reining in her irritation, and extended her domain’s once more to gather every skull scattered across the sky.

Mathilda gave her a thumbs-up.

"See? Teamwork!"

Lady Reaper sighed again—long, deep, and soul-tired.