Pluton sped through the air on his massive black wings, the air around him not impeding his form despite him not being even remotely aerodynamic. What had once been nothing more than a skeleton the size of a house had, over the course of a cosmically short time, gained flesh and then a full ‘normal’ and larger draconic form, although it was plain to see that he was still an undead. At this point, while being a dracolich, his body more resembled a bulkier, larger Shadow Dragon from the TTRPG called ‘Dungeons and Dragons’.

In fact, his current size made an Ancient Red Dragon’s average size from that game look like a full-grown chihuahua in comparison, through to finish that comparison you would have to equate Pluton’s size roughly to that of a Basset Hound. For a better, more mathematical comparison, an Ancient Red Dragon in D&D has an average wingspan between 60-150 feet (18-46 meters for nearly the rest of the world) and an average total body length of 120 feet (37 meters). Pluton was of a size that was quite a bit larger, even though he would, by the rules of D&D, be nothing more than a hatchling at best in terms of age.

At his size, and with his power, there was little around that could match him blow for blow in a stand-up, close-quarters brawl. Likewise, in terms of sheer magical force, he made most other beings on Mortis look like rank amateurs with little to no talent for spell-slinging. However, he was still very young and therefore had yet to gain the vast wealth of experience that one would expect from such a massive creature. And, of course, he had only dealt with smaller, insignificant foes and had never received so much as a scratch.

This would come back to bite him later on.

…

With the jungles now within eyesight, Pluton began a full nosedive towards the terrain below. He plummeted downwards like a black, scale-covered meteor, only pulling up when he had gained enough speed. Once he reached that desired speed, he unfurled his wings and opened his mouth, unleashing a gout of corrupted breath as he strafed the jungle from just above the canopy.

His heightened senses filled him in on the situation where his breath was unleashed. The mixture of pained screaming, quickly withering and decaying foliage, and the crackling of his unnatural flames was music to his ears, and he shot himself back up into the sky to do another run. This continued for several minutes until there was a massive firestorm raging in that section of the jungle, although Pluton did notice that the fire was rapidly being quenched by magical means. Despite that, the stains he had left there would remain where they were for what could possibly be decades, if not centuries, unless something was done about it. And, if someone did want to do something about it, they would need to act fast before the corruption set in and turned the passage of time into the only viable cure.

With that little bit of chaos unleashed, Pluton kept himself (more or less) stationary in the air with the flapping of his wings and his liberal use of magic. His eyes surveyed the damage, and his reptilian lips turned up at the edges before eventually splitting to reveal a sinister grin. He was about to go and unleash a similar hell upon another area when he felt a ripple of magical power relatively nearby.

Based on the scale of it alone, Pluton didn’t feel any concern, but the fact that the ripple grew from one source into many did unnerve him a little. He knew that whatever it was that was causing this disturbance needed to be put down, lest it cause untold damage to the war effort, and so he flew off towards where the power was building.

Once he had arrived, he wasted no time in unleashing a ten-minute-long, completely uninterrupted breath attack on the offending area, sweeping the corrupting mix of acid, balefire, and noxious, disease-filled gasses across the jungle, slowly advancing mid-air to cause the most damage possible. However, much to his surprise and anger, the damage he inflicted was almost instantly repaired, even as he was in the middle of destroying it.

This pissed Pluton off to no end, and eventually he decided that if his breath wasn’t going to be enough on its own, then he would unleash a torrent of magical projectiles and debuffs in a completely indiscriminate fashion. Unfortunately for Pluton's ego, this also achieved nothing of any note or worth. The sheer resilience of that one patch of jungle infuriated the gigantic dracolich, who eventually just gave up and decided to wait for whatever was building power under the treetops to come up and fight him.

A few minutes passed in absolute silence, the native fauna having either died already or simply having fled from the undead dragon’s blind wrath. When those few minutes turned into thirty minutes and then an hour, all it did was drive the Darksolian Dragon to even greater depths of fury. Only once another hour had passed beyond that did the ripples of magic cease and allow several creatures that had long lied dormant to awaken.

The tree line erupted into a spray of shattered wood, shredded foliage, and churned-up soil as several large, winged creatures shot up into the sky from where they had been buried oh so long ago. These creatures bore a striking resemblance to Pluton, though they were not undead, and they were not anywhere near as massive. Likewise, their scales were a mix of mottled brown and green, and on top of that their bodies were covered in trance amounts of moss and minor plant life.

These Forest Dragons, after being awoken, had shot up into the sky at an alarming speed, and now looked down on Pluton with a mix of fury and contempt. Rather than give a formal introduction, they merely opened their mouths and let out a breath attack made up of highly caustic chemicals and noxious fumes. Perhaps they expected that this would reduce Pluton to a melted mass of meat and bone, but that was not to be. The slurry washed over the dracolich, but did no damage at all, much to the shock of the Forest Dragons.

Pluton looked up at the Forest Dragons for a short amount of time before elevating his own altitude to be equal to that of his foes. With the Forest Dragons’ first attack having done nothing of note, it seemed as though the battle would, at best, be utterly one-sided. However, these smaller dragons were far older than Pluton, and that would be their advantage over the oversized undead dragon. Their experience was their trump card, and it could very well be enough to give them a victory.

That is if they could capitalize on it.