Talk:Kyouhukou/@comment-114.142.173.42-20180516222721/@comment-36873764-20181001074720

Yes, when I saw him I was glad that one of the characters I've created for myself generates fire/heat/hellfire.

Quentin brushed long silver hair back from his face. "A giant... cockroach? I am glad Titania isn't here. She doesn't like cockroaches. With a cape no less, how remarkable."

Kyouhukou looked up at him. "Greetings human. My children are very grateful that you could join us for dinner."

"Dinner? How splendid. I do feel a mite peckish. What is on the menu?"

"Why, you are, of course."

"Me? I fear I must regretfully decline your invitation then, my dear creature. My deepest regrets."

"I am truly sorry, we are going to have to insist on your presence." The horde of cockroaches scuttled closer to the tall man.

"Alas, it appears that I must be rude and forcefully decline." Thin lips curled in a smile that never reached his icy blue eyes.

"What?" The air began to shimmer around the man, heat waves pulsing off him, flames igniting on his fingertips.

"My good creature, this room is about to reach the temperature of the surface of the sun. I suggest you scuttle. You have the count of three..."

"One..." The horde of cockroaches scuttled as far from the man as they could, pressing themselves against the furthest wall.

"Two..." Kyouhukou turned to flee.

"Three..." There was a sudden flash, as though a shard of a star had suddenly fallen to Earth, reaching this hall where the sun never shone. Under the intense heat even stone ran like water, and every creature that fell light fell upon, burned.

Quentin walked from the front gate of what had been the Great Tomb of Nazarick, polishing his pince-nez glasses thoughtfully. The tall woman waiting for him, crimson armour filigreed with gold, a great warhammer in her hands, copper haird and violet eyed, raised an eyebrow.

"Did you meet the lord of this dungeon?"

Quentin inhaled slowly, regret written on his face. "I fear not. I made it down to the second floor, and then, well, I met a talking cockroach, and may have buried him under a few hundred tons of lava. It was, perhaps, a slight overreaction."

"Well, it was a talking cockroach. I guess the reaction was understandable."

"As you say, dearest. I shall have to send a formal letter of apology to Mr Ainz Ooal Gown, expressing my regrets for the destruction of his property, and, I assume some of his servants." His expression brightened. "Yes, yes. I'm sure he will understand the circumstances and be reasonable about it."