Last Egg: Reincarnated as a Dragon in a Game

One Year Later:

A robed figure glided down the shadowed corridor, his steps echoing against the polished, obsidian floor like the tolling of a distant bell. Light filtered through tall, vaulted openings, casting eerie, angular shadows across the desolate world outside. He paused, his gaze fixed on the barren landscape beyond the arches.

Ashen fields stretched endlessly, with jagged stone formations thrusting upwards like the teeth of a long-dead beast.

'An entire continent laid to waste by these monsters. This shouldn't have happened for another decade.' It had been over a year since the great Void Dragon King returned, the demonic legions invaded the continent, and reapers descended upon the cities. He had anticipated a war, as in his previous timeline. Yet the gods' forces had retreated, abandoning the central continent to the onslaught.

His skeletal hands clenched, the flickering flames within his eye sockets flaring with a desperate resolve. 'I cannot let Earth end like this.'

He halted before a massive golden door. The two winged, dark-armored sentinels flanking it lowered their energy halberds, the crimson glow of their blades casting an ominous light in the dim corridor. The undead player studied them, trying to discern anything beneath their armor. 'Rumors say they drank the essence of the four balance races, perhaps even all five.'

"I have been granted an audience with the council," he announced, fighting to suppress the dread clawing at his hollow chest. He had thought, as an undead, that he could no longer feel fear. But standing before a room full of monsters, he felt dread.

Securing this audience had cost him every favor he had painstakingly accumulated over the years as the leader of the largest non-righteous guild and a covert agent of the god of death.

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The guards remained silent. Without a word, they stepped aside, their weapons clanging against the floor. The doors creaked open, releasing a wave of scorching heat that hit him like a physical blow. He stepped inside and immediately dropped to his knees, his once steady flames now guttering in the oppressive air.

Auras of dread assailed him from all sides, each more terrifying than the last. Reapers, dragons, demons, and angels—their overwhelming presences intertwined, suffocating him in a sea of unfathomable power. He dared not lift his gaze to meet their eyes, too terrified of the consequences.

"Speak, undead," a voice as cold and sharp as a blade of arctic ice cut through the air, sending a shiver down his spine. 'A reaper,' he realized, his mind reeling. He bowed lower.

"My lords! I humbly request permission to conquer Earth, the homeworld of immortals, in your name," he stammered, scarcely believing the words escaping his lips. The bluish flames in his eye sockets flickered with uncertainty. 'This wasn't how it was supposed to be.'

He had intended to use his foreknowledge to rise above all others, to unite them under his banner. Then, when the dimensional descent occurred, Earth would be strong enough to conquer Lorenia—or at least survive. But now, all his carefully laid plans had unraveled.

'I even attained divinity from the god of death. But that accursed dragon shattered the timeline. This council shouldn't exist, and these monsters should be at war with each other and the gods.'

He wasn't naive enough to believe that Earth could emerge victorious in such chaos. At best, he could save it by subjugating it in the least bloody way possible. He had seen the demons and reapers lay waste to entire continents. If Earth were to survive the descent, he would have to conquer it for these monsters before they turned their gaze upon it themselves.

'It's now or never.' This was his only chance. The dragons were preoccupied with gathering the remains of their dead kings and hoarding treasures to hasten their resurrection. The angels were in disarray after the revelation of their god's deceit. The demons were too embroiled in their own bloodthirsty orgies.

And the reapers, as always, moved with deliberate caution, harvesting the death energy that war had delivered in abundance.

"Ahh, hungry for power, skeleton? I like it, go and invade! War is always fun!" A demonic voice rasped, the voice laced with an undercurrent of dark amusement. He bowed lower, praying that the demon wouldn't take too much pleasure in the prospect of ravaging another world.

He pressed on, his voice steady thanks to his undead nature. "My lords, my forces are prepared. I believe the remnants of the old governments and the righteous guilds will fall swiftly, especially if their lordships mobilize their affiliated immortals in a single, coordinated assault."

"Why should we? What do we stand to gain?" A draconic voice, cold and feminine, reverberated through the chamber, its fiery aura tinged with a calculating edge. He almost cursed the dragon's insatiable hunger for advantage. 'What? Is conquering a world not enough for them?' But he swallowed his anger, knowing that to show it now would be to court destruction.

"Your draconic lordship, I am willing to offer you all the gold my world possesses."

"Gold?" The dragon's voice was a hiss. But then, after a moment's pause, she continued, "Perhaps it will serve as a down payment. But understand this, skeleton: we will not be bought so easily. After you conquer this world, we will talk about taxes, tariffs, and tributes."

'Greedy lizards, but at least, they are bribeable.'

Before he could fully process the exchange, another voice, clear and melodic, cut through the tension. "You wish to invade a world? Do you not see the suffering it will bring? Isn't there enough pain in this one? Must you drag another world into the abyss?" The words, though soothing on the surface, were underpinned by a threat that sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through him.

'Those self-righteous pigeons.' He knew he had no choice. The dimensional collapse would drag Earth into this nightmare regardless.

"Your holiness, my world is steeped in sin. Have you not witnessed the debauchery of immortals in this one? My world is being destroyed by greed and infighting. I do not seek to bring suffering to my people; I seek to bring them salvation."

The angel responded immediately, her voice ringing with a soothing melody. "You may be right, undead. A crusade may be justified. But I do not trust you. You will cooperate with the Holy-light Guild. They will ensure you do not let power corrupt you."

The undead player almost laughed to himself. No matter how powerful these beings were, they were so predictable. 'This way, one of the largest righteous guilds is out of the picture.' He detested those zealots, but he understood their origins—religious fanatics who, upon discovering that magic and angels were real, eagerly joined their endless crusades.

"So be it. I authorize you to invade Earth in our name," the reaper finally spoke, its voice resonating with a chilling finality.