Yamato Ishida (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2018-03-01 04:49 am
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2018-03-01 04:49 am
[01 OOM] Vamdemon's logic is technically sound here, I guess
Tailmon bows low, sweeping her tail behind her. “Lord Vamdemon, the seven children have gathered once again.”
Vamdemon swirls his wine glass about, sipping from it, as Phantomon turns on a bruised and scratched PicoDevimon.
“Another of your failures,” Phantomon says. “You’ve caused more trouble for His Excellency than you’ve solved. All of your scheming, and all you’ve achieved is the deaths of two loyal subjects, the activation of two Crests and two resulting Perfect-level evolutions, and the seven of them reunited. Lord Vamdemon, I must ask again that you allow me to send my forces to crush them.”
“That would be a waste of monpower,” Wizarmon says, sharply. “We will need all those forces to locate and kill the Eighth Child.”
“While leaving seven more still at large,” Phantomon says.
“They are irrelevant. The prophecy cannot be avoided: Only the Eighth Child may strike our lord down,” Wizarmon replies. “The other seven pose no threat to him.”
“Tailmon, PicoDevimon, what say you? If you have the data left to speak coherently, PicoDevimon,” Vamdemon says. “I fear your flavour is too crude for my tastes, but the bats seem to enjoy it.”
PicoDevimon rolls himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Y’Lordship should kill them all. Wipe ‘em out.”
“... If Wizarmon thinks it’s unwise to waste forces on them, I agree with him,” Tailmon says.
“So be it,” Vamdemon says, setting down his glass. “Phantomon, prepare my carriage.”
Wizarmon blinks. “... Your Excellency?”
“I will not make the same mistakes that Devimon and Etemon made, and throw my armies against them,” Vamdemon says. “But as you say, Wizarmon, the prophecy cannot be changed. Not even all of them together could harm me. So I will find them myself, and deal with them personally.”
Vamdemon swirls his wine glass about, sipping from it, as Phantomon turns on a bruised and scratched PicoDevimon.
“Another of your failures,” Phantomon says. “You’ve caused more trouble for His Excellency than you’ve solved. All of your scheming, and all you’ve achieved is the deaths of two loyal subjects, the activation of two Crests and two resulting Perfect-level evolutions, and the seven of them reunited. Lord Vamdemon, I must ask again that you allow me to send my forces to crush them.”
“That would be a waste of monpower,” Wizarmon says, sharply. “We will need all those forces to locate and kill the Eighth Child.”
“While leaving seven more still at large,” Phantomon says.
“They are irrelevant. The prophecy cannot be avoided: Only the Eighth Child may strike our lord down,” Wizarmon replies. “The other seven pose no threat to him.”
“Tailmon, PicoDevimon, what say you? If you have the data left to speak coherently, PicoDevimon,” Vamdemon says. “I fear your flavour is too crude for my tastes, but the bats seem to enjoy it.”
PicoDevimon rolls himself to his feet, wobbling slightly. “Y’Lordship should kill them all. Wipe ‘em out.”
“... If Wizarmon thinks it’s unwise to waste forces on them, I agree with him,” Tailmon says.
“So be it,” Vamdemon says, setting down his glass. “Phantomon, prepare my carriage.”
Wizarmon blinks. “... Your Excellency?”
“I will not make the same mistakes that Devimon and Etemon made, and throw my armies against them,” Vamdemon says. “But as you say, Wizarmon, the prophecy cannot be changed. Not even all of them together could harm me. So I will find them myself, and deal with them personally.”