>>18244882If you're going to assume right off the bat that this is one of those typical "climaxes" often seen in stories, y'know the ones where the protagonist--such as our very own--sucks up his gut, sticks his sword one final time into the chest of the malignant cretin, strikes him down and then saves his village from like, completely falling apart and destroying itself, well...
You're wrong!~ So horribly, horribly wrong. Please dismiss those thoughts now if you're holding them, that's too cliche'd and flawed for any story, even one as disastrous as this! No, no, we're going to take the high road here like adults.
Our compassionate prince decides that the dragon has suffered enough, what with being engulfed in a cremating blaze of fire, that's not going to do anyone good, not even tanners.
"Alright, alright Ali-Ali, you can stop using the spell now."
She squeaks, looking up from her magic twinkly fingers to you, "Ehhhh?! What for, we're so close to defeating him!~"
"I know, I know," you then place a hand on your hips, "but I suppose I'm just too nice of a person. I have another idea in store for him, a proposition if you will, and I believe he'll be absolutely delighted to hear about it.
Hexcalibur shakes within your grasp, "NOOOOOOOOOO. HOW SHALL MY FAMISHED LUST BE QUENCHED NOW? THE SWORD OF OBLIVION MUST TASTE MALICE BEFORE SUCCUMBING TO DEFEEEEEAAAT."
"Bronbronz."
"Calm yourselves, you'll taste flesh another day. Today just happens to be not that day." you place the ghostly sword back into his sheathe for a cooldown period. Then, with a strut with that fine perky ass, you make your way to the Jabberpocky.
"G-Gyrrrooooooooooooo..."
As the Jabberpocky groans and aches in agonizing pain, you take the high road off-road method and give him
a peck on the nose. Then you start to rub that nose gently, yeah, rub that nose hard!
