Lances and Tanks

Roar—

The earth-shaking dragon roar sent all beasts fleeing in terror.

The savage beasts of the wilderness that had been trailing the marching army, drooling over human flesh and blood, trembled all over.

The bitter experiences of oppression endured by their ancestors over countless years, etched deep into their bloodlines, made them immediately realize that the dragons, long extinct along the West Coast, had returned.

Fear of the king of the skies sent them scattering in panic.

"Run. Flee."

Demon Dragon Ladon roared with great satisfaction. He had never expected that even after falling asleep, his boss would drag him awake to work.

Yet returning to his homeland again gave him a rather strange feeling.

The Flame Dragon Head let out a howl, venting its waking irritation and hatred for humanity. "Tremble in fear, tiny insects! Look at your pathetic fire pokers and toys pieced together from iron sheets. Can they withstand Lord Ladon's raging flames?"

The Poison Dragon Head seemed thoughtful. "Brother, ignore that muscle-brained idiot. Say, if we wrote a letter to our former selves still in the dragon garden of Anatolia, warned them about these humans, and told them to flee immediately into the mountains of Northern Europe, wouldn't we avoid becoming dogs?"

The Curse Head sneered. "You think Flame is an idiot, but you're not much smarter. If our former selves had not died, do you think it'd be more likely for us to vanish outright, or regain our freedom? Besides, I have no desire to use that decrepit old body again."

As he spoke, he opened his enormous jaws and spat out cursed flames with all his might.

Poison Head pondered it. The reasoning did make sense, but he still felt indignant and argued, "No matter what, I'm still the second-smartest dragon among us three