First Demonic Dragon

The large man was filled with nerves upon seeing the largest creature imaginable suddenly descend from the skies.

It's body was a coiling, powerful thing. Line after line of obsidian black scales with intricate golden patterns were inscribed along every visible inch of it.

The old man was able to recognize the creature based on these simple characteristics alone...

His eyes somehow instantly locked with the creature. The wind blew through the island and stuffed out his rolling fire as the dragon descended from the sky.

As it got closer, the creature grew smaller and smaller until it resembled a man with that same obsidian dark complexion and swirling golden tattoos.

Eventually, his skin returned to a much more 'ordinary' pigment as two more figures landed beside him. Both of whom the old man happened to know fairly well.

He finally spoke, and as expected, he had a thick Celtic accent that was almost difficult to hear through.

"You gave me quite the fright, Scaly-Lord." The old man sighed as he put his club down. "But now I reckon that since you didn't show up here on two legs, you haven't come to raze."

Abaddon ignored that accursed nickname and forced himself to smile.

"Indeed not, Father Dagda. I'm afraid your chance to strike at me hasn't come just yet."

"Bah." The old god waved his hand dismissively.

He ran his fingers through his coarse, thick beard as he glanced at Nyx and finally decided to acknowledge her presence.

"You've been coming out of your hidey hole quite a lot these last few decades, haven't you Night Mother?"

Nyx seemed unamused. "If only most of the things I'm laying my eyes on were worth my gaze."

The father of the Celtic gods laughed loudly as he struck his stomach. The air around him reverberated with power and the entire island rumbled.

"Still a fiery lass indeed, that's how it should be! A woman should never besmirch herself to a demeanor that's daintier than a flower!"

Nyx wanted to say she didn't exactly need or want the old god's approval, but saying that was exactly the kind of thing that would just make him compliment her again.

Finally, Father Dagda laid eyes on the only face he still had yet to speak to.

Instead of greeting Mateo normally, the bearded god held out his arms for a full embrace. "Vasquez, my boy! It's been too long!"

Mateo was quickly snatched up before he could run away, leaving Abaddon and Nyx to snicker to themselves like toddlers.

Father Dagda seemingly cared nothing for Mateo's pride or personal space as the old man lifted him up while laughing giddily.

Mateo was quite the physically powerful specimen himself, but this old god's strength made even his bones feel like they were about to give way.

"Dagda… Good to see- Urk! Put me down, Gordo!"

"Ahahaha! Sorry, lad, you know I'm easily excitable in my old age…"

The old god put Mateo down so that he could contend with his sudden lightheadedness.

Instead, Dagda clasped him hard on the shoulder and nearly cracked the bones inside.

"It's been such a long 700 years! How are those darling brides of yours?"

Mateo stared at Dagda suspiciously."…They're fine."

"That's a damn pity, I was really hoping to sweep in and-"

Mateo punched Dagda in the face so hard that he instantly broke his nose and even fractured part of his skull.

But jovial Dagda never even budged from Mateo's little love tap and just continued to laugh heartily.

His face healed rather quickly and the blood didn't take long to stop flowing from his nose.

"Still strong! That's good!" He clapped.

Mateo grumbled some words in Spanish while folding his arms and turning his head away.

"So, what brings such a high-profile collection of gods to my humble neck of the woods?" Dagda inquired.

Abaddon casually glanced above his head. "I suppose that is what you are all wondering?"

Hovering in the sky above their heads were a small fleet of deities.

The Tuatha De Danann are the Celtic pantheon's ruling body. Not dissimilar to the Greek Olympians.

"Let me put your worries to bed." Abaddon said. "I'm not here because heads are about to roll or anything like that. I'm only here to talk to Dagda."

Morrigan, the goddess of war, knew full well that Abaddon's words weren't a lie based purely on the way that he was carrying himself. That didn't mean she wasn't curious about why he had come here in the first place.

"It's rare for you to take an interest in our humble little faction." She hummed.

Another god of war, Lugh, began chuckling like the child he resembled.

"Aye, from what I hear, the old beast is far too busy chasing Shinto skirts!"

The Tuatha De burst out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Abaddon was reminded again of why he didn't come here.

Celts were the only race of deities that would persistently make fun of someone or something who could kill them in a second.

He tried hard not to give them any ammunition, but Inari's blabber-mouthing had effectively crippled him.

'This is why I hate messenger gods..!'

Abaddon forced a smile onto his face as a vein throbbed within his forehead.

"So you all think you're funny then..? That's alright. I'll show you that I can be hilarious."

Abaddon closed his eyes and put out a single mental call.

In 0.2 seconds, every Celtic god was suddenly being shadowed by a dragon soldier they were painfully familiar with.

The backs of the gods were already beginning to sweat.

Abaddon turned towards his men.

"I don't know what you've been doing with these trainees of yours but they still seem to have far too much energy. Can you believe they dared to make fun of me?"

The pressure in the air became 1,000 times heavier.

A dragon standing behind Morrigan touched her on the shoulder and forced her to bow before Abaddon.

"Please forgive their discourtesy, my god. We see now that we have been taking things too easily on them. You have my word- it will not happen again."

The dragons suddenly disappeared while taking the Tuatha De with them.

Now, Abaddon's smile was one of lightness and genuine amusement.

Dagda was far less inclined to joke with Abaddon now that he knew he was running the risk of being beaten up as well.

"A-Ahem, well then, shall we sit?" He gestured to the campfire burning right next to him.

He didn't wait for the unlikely trio to sit down and took a seat without them. Quite a bit of his focus seemed to be on rotating the pig that had been left unattended.

"So, what brings such high-profile individuals as yourself here? Idle chitchat perhaps?"

"Perhaps not." Abaddon sat down across from the large god. "Rather, I wanted to ask your permission to set up a certain facility here."

Dagda lifted his head. "One for your men?"

"Something like that." Abaddon admitted. "But it's not really for them."

Dagda arched a brow. "You should treat them better, you know? What kind of soldiers stand around without rest? They won't even take our offerings for food or ale."

Abaddon had no trouble believing that.

From what he'd heard, the higher officials in his army were making it very clear to their underlings that this wasn't any kind of social event.

When they weren't training the gods, they were on patrol until their next appointed training time. Nevi'im didn't actually need sleep or even food anymore, so there were no adverse effects on their minds or bodies. They were practically robots.

But there weren't any rules that prevented them from eating or drinking. They were probably just abstaining because everything here would be fucking disgusting to them.

Sustenance and gods included...

"If you allow this construction, then congregating will be a much smoother-"

"ABADDONNNNN!!!!!"

'Ah, fuck..'

The sky suddenly turned an ugly color. Storm clouds rolled in from every direction as lightning bolts crashed into the water like pillars of electricity.

Abaddon slowly turned his head towards the new portal in the sky.

There, white-robed Izanagi was the very pinnacle of divine fury. His eyes were burning holes of light. His teeth gnashed together like territorial icebergs.

Dagda hadn't ever seen the soft-spoken god be this mad before.

"What'd you do to him?" He turned to Abaddon.

"..."

"...Oh, Ha! That's right!" Dagda slapped his knee upon realization. "Giving his ex-wife the old beef broth, eh? I never took him for the-"

"You'll want to stop talking now."

Abaddon sprouted his wings and shot into the sky.

Nyx took a moment to sprawl across his now-empty seat and made herself comfortable on her back.

She manifested a bag of popcorn and popped some into her mouth as she gave the men at her side a nudge.

"Messenger gods, amirite?"

Mateo pilfered some popcorn. "A race who peaked when they invented the cellphone and had the grand idea to give it to mortals. Now they spend their lives looking for meaning now that there is none left."

"Downright nasty gossips they are." Dagda shook his head.

All three gods shook their heads in annoyance.

"""Fucking messenger gods."""

-

Abaddon appeared in front of Izanagi in an instant.

His skin was already threatening to peel off and his hair was starting to float above his head.

"Have you utterly lost your mind...? I advise you to take the base out of your voice before you find yourself spontaneously unable to speak."

Izanagi scoffed. His blood boiling, he floated even closer to Abaddon.

"I gave you custody of that deranged criminal so that you could have her incarcerated. Not so that you could coerce her into a sexual relationship!"

Abaddon backhanded the god before he even felt himself moving.

Izanagi spit out a mouthful of blood and teeth like a miniature fountain.

But his hostility had yet to subside.

"So that's how we're doing things..? Fine then. See to it that you do not regret the choices you have made today."