After a long breakfast, the Three Kings, their assorted fighters, and Black Mamba all went walking. They walked up the slope, and stood looking down into the central shaft, speaking in low tones, and pointing at the dragon's lair entrance. Fred knew Martin's hearing was sharp enough to listen to them, and could probably understand what they were saying. "But maybe these guys know that, and they're trying to fool him. Ugh, mind games!" Fred thought it would be wise not to try to figure it out.

The Three Kings retreated fairly quickly back to their camp. Fred followed them, and saw that they were going through the process of strapping on their fancy armor. "I guess this is it. Showtime." Fred thought. He knew Martin would be resurrected if he died, but none of his creatures had ever been able to tell him what it felt like to do so. He worried Martin wouldn't be happy about it.

On the other hand, Martin was fearsome. Perhaps he would kill all these knights, and they couldn't come back to life. "I guess I hope they know what they're doing?" Fred was very confused about it all.

The Kings took until almost noon to get fully ready. Every member of their group was wearing every piece of armor they'd brought, and they all looked quite dangerous. All told, there were fifteen; the three knights, ten other fighters, and two berobed people, who looked like priests or wizards, Fred couldn't tell. Both of the robed people were busy chanting and swaying and casting spells on the group.

There was actually another group of non-fighters. These nine people were carrying nothing but sacks. "Oh, the gold!" Fred realized. "Yeah, they'll want to get the dragon's gold before Martin comes back to life. I hope they can move fast." The sack group was clearly not part of the fighting group, but were discussing things with the fighters. They looked calm, like they'd done this sort of thing before. Every one of them was wearing some sort of mask over their nose and mouth.

Finally the troop got moving. The fighters all had swords and other hand weapons. The knights also had long javelins with cruel, barbed tips. The other fighters also had bows. As a well-ordered group, they entered Fred's domain through the front entrance, and proceeded past all the first-floor creatures. When they got to the ogre, the three knights stood at the ogre's lair entrance, forming a wall with their bodies, while the rest scurried past. This was good, because the ogre wasn't about to miss this chance for target practice.

It whipped bigger and bigger stones at the three knights, and roared in anger as the stones just bounced off or shattered on the knight's armor. Fred was already impressed with how tough the knights were. After the fighters (and the sack bearers) were past, the knights just walked away from the ogre, like it was beneath them. This enraged the ogre, which didn't leave its lair, but stood at the entrance, shrieking, and continued to throw big rocks at everything for a minute.

The group kept walking, down the ramp, past the three entrances to the Beetle Brothers, the Mummy, and the Jinpa. Once at the bottom, the sack bearers hung back at the tree, while the rest hurried into the lair of the dragon. The big space was supposed to be a forest, but the trees were all on the edges of the room, so Martin wouldn't be blocked by any of them. Still, once in the room the fighters spread out, trying to hide behind trees, along the whole circumference of the round room.

The Three Kings marched forward, straight towards where Martin was hiding inside his gold piles. The room was large; the Kings took a while to cross the distance, and Martin hid and didn't move a muscle. Once the Kings were very close, Martin suddenly filled the room with choking green mist, a giant exhale that (Fred realized) he'd been holding in.

The Kings stopped, but didn't seem affected by the dense poison cloud. It obscured everything, but Fred was ready to believe that the Kings could magically see through it somehow. They stood ready, with their barbed spears held in front of them, waiting. After a few seconds, Martin burst from the gold piles, roaring like a hurricane, uncoiling like a spring toward the Kings. He hit like a runaway train, and all three Kings went flying. A tremendous number of gold coins flew about the room, too. As Martin's neck and body slowed down and came to a (relative) stop in the center of the forest room, arrows began to fly at him from every side. Martin was so big, the arrows really couldn't miss. But his skin was so tough, they all seemed to just bounce off.

Now Fred noticed that Martin was continuing to scream, and he thought the scream sounded like pain. Looking more carefully, Fred and Martin both realized that one of the three barbed spears had succeeded in piercing Martin's skin, and was planted deep in Martin's shoulder. It was bleeding badly. Martin immediately raised that arm, and favored it as best he could.

Now Fred could see that the archers were doing a good job of targeting Martin's face, despite the dense poison mist. He knew it wouldn't be long before an arrow found an eye. Fred could also see that the Three Kings had bounced up like they were completely unhurt, and were rushing towards Martin again. Martin must have also wanted to protect his eyes, because he now closed them tight.

Martin's head whipped around to his left, clobbering a King and sending him flying again. The huge head kept moving, smashing two trees down and crushing the archer that was hiding behind one. This put Martin's head facing a wall, which made his eyes much harder targets. However, it also allowed the two other Kings to close with Martin where he couldn't see them. One of them still held a barbed spear, and shoved it expertly into the back of Martin's knee joint, ripping the skin open and burrowing deep. Martin shrieked again, and the leg reflexively kicked back, knocking the King through the air

The other had a long glowing sword in his hand, and when he got close to Martin's side, he stabbed Martin right between two ribs. Martin's bright red blood squirted out, showering the King, who tried to shove the sword deeper and stir it around. Fred thought he would be sick. What was happening to Martin was truly horrible. Martin thrashed, and shifted his body to the side. The King was suddenly trapped and crushed by Martin's bulk, and the King's sword was trapped where it was, piercing Martin's gut.

Now Martin had wicked spears impairing both legs on his right side. He was much slower, because he was in so much pain. He also seemed to have a hitch in his breathing. He tried to breath more poison, but a big breath was too painful. So instead, he whipped his head around the other way. His long, sinuous neck brought his head around to his right side, where the King was trapped half-under him. He then spat, a huge, sticky green glob of something that hissed and bubbled as it covered his side and the King who lay beneath him. Fred knew that the King's armor was something amazing. But was it strong enough against whatever Martin's spit could do?

The other Kings were up again, and the final barbed spear found its mark (again, expertly) deep in the flesh of Martin's left rear leg. Martin screamed again, and collapsed onto his stomach. He could no longer walk or hold himself up. His tail and neck thrashed about, but not with great energy, since more movement made everything hurt even more for him. Fred assumed the sword buried in his side made Martin weaker, as well.

And then arrows found Martin's eyes. And he was blinded and howling. Fred felt so bad for him, and wished he could look away. He looked around at the rest of his domain, and saw the the other humans had heard the titanic battle with the dragon, and were (wisely) running from the domain as fast as they could. Even the children were running out. Humans in the town were seeking shelter in the lowest level of Fred's building. Clearly nobody thought Martin would take this attack in any sort of good humor.

But the Kings were single-minded. Another one approached Martin's neck, brandishing a glowing axe. The berobed wizard rushed after him, and cast a colorful spell that made the axe even shinier. Then, with a huge showy swing, the King chopped off Martin's head with the magical axe. Since the axe head was many times smaller than the thickness of the dragon's neck, Fred guessed that the magic cast on it was exceptional. Martin's head was separated from his body, and he lay dead, though the huge body kept struggling and twitching for a couple minutes.

The death of the dragon didn't stop anything. Waved in, the sack bearers rushed in and began shoveling gold coins into the sacks. The priest-like person attended to several badly injured archers, and two of the Kings struggled to free the third King from being trapped underneath Martin's bulk. They were finally able to, but perhaps only because Martin was starting to dissolve into sparkles. Martin was big. There were a LOT of sparkles. It was a blinding light show.

Twenty minutes later, the sacks were all full, and everyone (including the Kings) were helping drag them out of the dragon's lair. There was a good deal of impatient shouting. Everyone knew full well the dragon would come back soon, and no one wanted to be around when it happened. Fred wondered if some of the amazing protective spells the group used were only temporary. Or maybe they were just tired, and nobody wanted to deal with the dragon any more today.

Fred was disappointed to notice that the group had picked up all of their equipment, including every arrow, so Fred had nothing new to turn into Treasure Sprites. "Maybe next time," thought Fred. They left behind two dead bodies (after stripping all the equipment) which were dissolving into sparkles like Martin. The group made it up the ramp, but rather slowly. The sacks were bulging, and extremely heavy. Fred wondered if the Three Kings were so greedy that their sacks might break open, but none did.

When the group got to the top of the ramp, the Three Kings charged into the ogre's lair and quickly dispatched it. The team clearly had planned to take over the ogre's lair. They got settled, and looked like they were planning to stay a while. "Wise", Fred thought. He didn't think they could make it back to the big building in the next few minutes, and nobody trusted Martin not to chase after them. Not even Fred.

The final minutes ticked by. Actually, Fred now had a thought, that perhaps Martin would take extra time to re-incorporate, considering how big and powerful he was. But then, about thirty minutes after his death, there was Martin again, suddenly healthy and alive.

"What the fuck!?!?! That fucking hurt so fucking much! Those fucking humans! Fucking fucking fuuuuuuuccckkkk!!!"

A perfectly un-hurt Martin began thrashing about in his lair, smashing all the trees over. It was a giant tantrum, thrown by a giant dragon, and Fred started to wonder if Martin would cause a complete cave-in. "Those fuckers! I'm gonna kill every single one of them. And then I'm gonna get a spell and resurrect them, so I can kill them again in front of their parents! Slowly! And then I'm gonna Eat. Their. Parents!"

Fred couldn't help noticing how differently Martin was speaking. Not at all the cultured, sly, world-weary person Fred had been getting to know. He almost giggled, but he felt that would be rude, and also Fred was honestly sympathetic to Martin. He'd seen first-hand what Martin had gone through. He hadn't wanted that, and didn't want Martin to go through it again, but now he realized that both he and Martin were sort of stuck in this process, and that suddenly made Fred a bit melancholy.

But it was all about Martin, who stood up and said, "Fuck it. I'm out." So saying, he strode out of his lair, casually brushed the tree, and started climbing the central shaft with his powerful legs and claws. Once he reached the top, he spread his wings and flew away. Fred knew he should be able to see Martin dwindle into a dot in the far distance. At least, if he still had human eyes. As it was, Martin disappeared from Fred's "sight" almost as soon as he took flight.

Several minutes passed. Nothing stirred. Several more minutes passed. Nothing relaxed. Then Martin slammed down onto the lip of the central shaft. "Shit", spat Martin. "I'm stuck here. This magic of yours won't let me fly away, Fred."