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Sedrak pays the price for his crimes, and Zarnak is made an offer

As a reminder, the story may contain some mature elements, but as usual I'm aiming for a PG-13 baseline.

Icon art from the Mermul reference by  FeatheryFlukes

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Chapter 22 - Execution

Sedrak's eyes opened blearily. He tried to turn his neck, but steel cables secured it and his limbs to the ground. He seemed to be in the main square of Hadrovar, and in front of him was a familiar, shiny object with a wickedly-edged blade. The polymorphed dragon usurper walked into view, folding metal-clad arms in front of himself, expression unreadable.

"You would kill me... with my own tail-blade...?" Sedrak queried.

"I considered it," Terry said. "But Fardon, or another of my Tarian guests would have to do so for me, as I am not yet ready to show my entire hand. And it will look better if I carry out your execution personally," he sighed.

"A dragon who has committed a capital murder, would receive an honourable death by decapitation," he added. "But one who has defied the lord of this realm, committed an act of war against the lord of another realm, and jeopardised my attempts to comply with the Pax Draconica... For such high crimes, I fear you shall not be given that mercy," he said.

"...No," Sedrak hissed. "No! Not like that!"

"I am sorry," Terry said, taking an anti-dragon gun from his captain. "You must die a traitor's death. Make your peace with Alkrash, Sedrak the Mighty."

The big dragon closed his eyes and uttered a sigh of despair, laying his head upon the ground and awaiting his fate. Mermul looked away.
Terry pressed the muzzle hard against the side of the scaly grey head and pulled the trigger. The big dragon shuddered, twitching horribly a few times before finally dropping limp and still.

Silence fell.

"The traitor is dead," Terry called out to the crowd of humans and furres, voice amplified by a megaphone. "Justice has been done upon him. No more shall he prey upon you, my subjects... Promising an end to the drought that he could not deliver. And if any others seek to do so, they shall share his fate."

He turned to face the mayor and his captain, handing back the firearm and the megaphone. "Organise a clean-up," he said. "Have the body removed, and ensure he is given a decent burial."

So saying, he entered the city hall and sat down heavily upon the couch in the waiting room.

* * *

Terry glanced around as the city mayor entered the hall.

"My lord," the panda said. "Are you well...?"

"You were not supposed to see this," Terry said thickly, dabbing at his eyes ineffectually with metal-gloved fingers.

"If I may ask, why so sad? Justice has been done! The monster who ate our people has been slain! Surely this should be a time of celebration!"

"For you, perhaps," Terry acknowledged. "For me... I don't know why I'm telling you this, but I am no stranger to carrying out executions. I am lord of the realm, and have put to death many of those who would threaten citizens under my care, or indeed, myself. And yet... Some executions are harder than others. And this one... was hard."

"How so?" the mayor said, looking surprised. "It was only a dragon... A monster responsible for untold deaths, even before he came here!"

"Never say that to me again," Terry hissed icily, leaping up as if stung. "I am more than half dragon myself. Enough that I mourn the loss of so rare a creature, even if he was my enemy, and your oppressor.
"Do you not see...? Even an evil dragon brings magnificence and grace to this world, and it is not an easy thing, knowing that you have just taken some of that majesty and splendour out of the world."

"Oh," the mayor said awkwardly.

Terry rounded upon the panda, fixing him with a penetrating gaze and folding his metallic arms.

"Mayor Tomlinson," he started in a casual voice. "Let me be frank with you. Given the lack of support you have been getting from the capital, I don't suppose you have a very high regard for me at this point. Especially since you had caught me in a rare moment of weakness just now.
"Nonetheless, I am your overlord. And speaking as such, I am not overly impressed by the way the matter has been handled, with regard to you feeding my subjects to my enemies. Yyrkoon or Marfour the Red would have had your head off for much less."

The panda gulped and stared at the floor.

"Even so," Terry continued, "It would not look good for me to execute you merely for trying to protect as much of the city as you could from renegade dragons. To paraphrase Sir Fardon, you were most likely trying to chart the best course in a sea of shit, none of which was of your own making. And those who rule often have to do things they do not want to do," he sighed, glancing through the window at Sedrak's truck-sized remains.

"...Though make no mistake, I am most displeased with how this fiasco has unfolded," he finished.

"W-what are you going to do to me...?" the mayor quavered, glancing out the window himself, as if expecting he would be shot next.

"Mayor Tomlinson, you have worked swiftly to build a new city hall," Terry said, gesturing at the ceiling with an armoured gauntlet. "So you clearly have considerable skill at getting things done - when it does not involve trying to stop a drought or repelling enemy dragons without backup or weaponry. I would not see those talents wasted."

"You're going to let me remain mayor...?" he blinked, unbelieving.

"Not exactly," Terry said. "In any case, I am not sure how popular you will be with your citizens, once the immediate danger has passed - they may not agree with you remaining mayor after having sent their friends and family off to die. No... I suggest you begin looking for a replacement."

"Oh," the panda said again.

"I have another use for you, though. My next move will be to find someone to act as an administrator for this entire region, as I have neglected the North for far too long. When I do, you are to assist that someone, and ensure that the needs of the citizens are taken into account in their decisions. In some ways this will be a promotion. In others... well."

"Who will this person be...?" the mayor asked, worriedly.

"Oh, only a dragon," Terry grinned evilly.

* * *

Zarnak hissed in fear as the white dragon clambered into his lair. By the markings on the intruder's face and belly, he knew that he was seeing Lord Terror, Scourge of the North.

"Is this how you would greet your Overlord?" Terry asked, craning his long neck.

"You..." Zarnak gurgled. "Scourge of the North!"

"Dragon!" a small voice called. "Have you come to eat us? Will you end the drought...?"

"I have ordered emergency water supplies to be sent to the city," Terry said. "Expect tankers to arrive over the next few days, and engineers to try and solve the drought in the longer term. But nobody is going to be eating anyone! It is forbidden, on pain of death. Now go back to the city, all of you - and stop pestering us."

"Well," Zarnak said slowly. "You're certainly not the Scourge. And your markings aren't the same. But so very close, and you smell similar. You must be his kin!"

"In my time I have had many titles and nicknames," Terry said. "But I have never been called that. At this time, I am Lord Terror - Overlord of Arstrom, Slayer of the idiot Yyrkoon and hopefully, Uniter of Men and Dragons." He sighed. "I suspect your so-called Scourge is my no-good brother, Maarvyn. I will deal with his games shortly. But first... You are Zarnak, are you not? Sir Fardon of Taria gave a flattering description of you. Though he did not mention your impressive physique," he purred.

Zarnak looked at him strangely. "Den talk is an odd way for a lord to introduce himself, I must say."

"Sorry," Lord Terror said, looking embarrassed. "It has been a while since I have romped with another of my kind. I am not looking for a fling, but I do have a good reason for invading your lair unannounced. You see, I have recently slain the grey dragon Sedrak, who I understand has been making quite a nuisance of himself to you...?"

"You... You killed him...?" Zarnak's eyes narrowed. "If you are here to kill me next, I shall not go down easily! I have seen my share of combat, and will give you wounds to remember me by!"

"Excellent," Terry crowed. The orange dragon blinked. "What...? Are you even listening to me...?"

"Of course," Terry said. "I am not here to slay you or boast of my deeds, but to recruit you. Sedrak was put to death for his treachery. To wit, he very nearly murdered Sir Fardon - technically an act of war against Taria - and demanded my subjects be sacrificed to him," Terry said. "He also threatened to murder me, his rightful lord! It is regrettable that he had to die, but unfortunately he ticked all the boxes. So unless you seek to tick those boxes yourself, I have no interest in slaying you, and many reasons not to."

"Ah, yes," Zarnak said. "Fardon said you wanted to try and unite dragonkind under your banner, within Arstrom?"

"Quite. I seek your fealty, Zarnak. If I killed you, I would no longer be your lord, would I...?"

"What I am think I am hearing from you is 'serve me or die,'" Zarnak growled. "Are you really any better than the Scourge of the North and his thugs...?"

"Yes," Terry said peevishly. "Though Sedrak have been better at selling his position to others than I am. I will have to take lessons.
"Now - to answer your question, I am trying to make things better for Arstrom as a whole. Sedrak just wanted to snack on the Small Races. Surely you can see the difference?
"Yes, I have come to make you an offer, but 'No' is an acceptable answer. I am not here to coerce you into my service. If you choose to make trouble for the Small Races, I will drive you out - or, as an option of last resort, slay you. If you refuse to serve, yet do not interfere with my plans, I am happy to let that continue."

"Okay," Zarnak said. "That seems fair. So what is it you actually want...?"

"The situation is this," Terry began. "Now that Sedrak is no longer menacing my city, I need someone to watch over Hadrovar, and the area as a whole. I have neglected things in the North, and that has helped such undesirables gain a foothold here.
"To avoid a repeat of this unfortunate affair, the North will need a regional administrator. A subordinate who can run the place and report to me - ideally a dragon who can fly to the capital promptly if an emergency occurs and the lines of communication are down. A dragon who is local to the area would be ideal, since they would have an understanding of the regional problems facing the city.
"I have seen Arcaia's file on you on their Viewdata system, friend. I know you to be a capable officer when you aided them a century ago... You seem to be just what I need, Zarnak.
"How would you like to make that Sir Zarnak...?"