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All was icy and still along the mountain range. The northern border of Nohr was a landscape of cold spikes painted on the background of a night sky. Twinkling stars were lost in a haze of snowfall, gray clouds hovered just at the peaks. Howling winds sang uninterrupted all through the evening, until--

Ka-koom. An avalanche of snow slipped down the sides of the most middle mountain, scattered by the shakening at its peak. Another blast, the sound of crumbling brick and snapping stone. A temple, perfectly hidden in the night, erupted with destruction. Dust billowed from a tear made into a wide, round roof; a bulge continuing to enlarge as it gave way to something underneath it, something pushing up and up relentlessly. Amidst the snow, a silhouette soared with flapping wings. A wyvern, ridden by a duo, making distance from the destruction as it progressed without them.

From the roof, a head began to crop. Purple waves of hair burst from the top, littered with cobbled rock. A hunched back uncurled, and the head swung back, revealing black armor that was edged with gold. A noise echoed from the temple, louder than the demolition, a voice -- a moan, a woman’s whine. The figure rose and rose, even while hobbling to her feet and standing. The temple continued to shrink beneath her, dropping below her knees, and then soon, even her ankles. Still, she grew.

“There’s… so much,” the giant said in a long breath. She looked to her hands, and then past them to the mountains she stood on top of. She felt delirious, that this wasn’t actually true. It couldn’t be true, that this was working even better than expected. “This dragon vein… It’s… rich… It keeps giving…~”

The long banner of hair concealed one eye, leaving the other to openly watch as that wyvern flew past her vision. Her expression, once that of discomfort, now had the spark of a subtle smile, the characteristic grin of this nobility. She watched the beast and its two riders, her retainers, as they dwindled in size to her.

Princess Camilla!! Is this alright?!?” Selena yelled from the wyvern’s back, stood up and using Beruka as support. The gusts were strong and she fell back into her seat, “She said she would become giant, b-but… she’s still…”

“... Look.” Beruka did not point, her hands firmly guiding the mount by its reigns. “Her eyes. Princess Camilla knows very well that she can control this.”

But even Beruka’s expectations were being surpassed. Larger and larger, Camilla continued to swell into the sky. The temple could fit her feet no longer, and so its walls collapsed as her boots barged through them with even the smallest movements. Even the mountain peak and its slope were failing to contain Camilla’s growth, the landmark shivering and casting away more walls of snow. Before she anticipated it, her weight, too, proved to be too much, and the mountain could be felt flattening underneath her, its rocky top crumbling like sand under black high heels.

Camilla gazed in a circle, tickled by the view. The mountains that overshadowed her were no bigger than her, and still they shrunk exactly like the temple before them had. She took her first step forward, her foot filling the space of a valley. Another step ahead, and a whole mountain passed under her. Neighboring peaks were used as support, grabbed by gloved hands as Camilla pulled ahead, yet to completely beat down the dizziness she felt but well on her way. The sight in front of her was an inspiration; the territory of an enemy nation.

It was why Camilla had come here with only her personal retainers as escorts. A hidden dragon vein that supposedly bestowed impossible strength was rumored to be in the northern mountains, the very border between Nohr and a much lesser country. The war with Hoshido was reaching its climax, and so Nohr’s other enemies had an opportunity to strike. Normally they would submit to Nohr’s cruelty and power, but lately, raids had been made to conquer more territory in the midst of the grander fight, inexpensive victories with little risk. Truly, these crimes did not cost Nohr much, but the nobility was most insulted by these attacks and the arrogance behind them. No resources, however, could be moved that far from the Hoshidan battlefield, and so Camilla snuck from the capital, deciding to test a myth against these inferiors.

The magic of the dragon vein had certainly proven more capable for her cause than ever expected. As she marched towards the enemy’s land, stomping mountains into hills and hills into plains, she gave one last look to her retainers, wherever they were. To the right, then to the left; were they too small to see? Almost -- there was a tiny voice, strained into a yell just at her ear. Selena called for her attention, and with unintentional intimidation did Camilla provide that. A huge amethyst eye rolled towards the wyvern, a pool of color nearly lost in the cascade of hair.

“Farewell~ I will return once all is complete,” Camilla said, keeping her voice hushed yet it still rattled the rocky terrain. The speck that was her escorts dived away, perhaps troubled by the explosive voice. Camilla’s brow flinched, an expression of apology, but still she smiled, even entertained by the way Selena and Beruka were so impacted by just her speaking. Her focus was soon pointed ahead, down at the mountain range’s end. The first collection of little dots of light; torches posted around the most forward of the enemy’s forts.

The nightwatch had traditionally been an uneventful shift. Nohr had no plans to attack, and so defending the frontline fortress was surprisingly relaxing. Fortified behind a rapid river which its several stories overlooked, the inside was populated with guards more concerned of the cold than an enemy invasion. They had once huddled around fires and even sang merrily of their most recent expeditions into Nohr ground, but that peaceful environment had faded. Equipment shook from the barracks, a hot beverage spilled. Lookout posts reported nothing, their guards surveying as far as the fog of snow would allow them. Yet, the quakes grew stronger, as if the world was trying to tear apart.

A black wall suddenly appeared. It ripped through the gray weather, a massive block of solid weight that crushed into the snow covered fields. A shockwave rippled through the land, traveling all the way to the fortress where it struck hard enough to push over many of its guards. Those posted at the east tower raised alarms, signalling with both bells and fires, but then, another wall pounded the earth. The west tower, which peeked over the river’s bend, collapsed from the boom, succumbing under its own weight and into the freezing waters.

All eyes gawked at these immense objects. Not a soul had the wit to construct a real strategy, the tiers of command suddenly useless. Everyone was on the pursuit of simply understanding this phenomenal event, all misled to believe that this was a force of nature, or perhaps a supernatural occurrence. Only a few dared to suggest this was some Nohrian attack, unaware of how accurate they were.

The wind conjured by these massive crashes had dispersed much of the fog. Many gazed at the walls with greater clarity, only to be dumbfounded by their next conclusion. Maddeningly, these were boots that surrounded them. High heeled boots, so huge that the river slipped under the footwear as though it were a bridge. It was impossible to understand, yet their eyes trailed far upward. A mile, two miles, and still more -- a giant without rival, bigger than the fantastical images of dragons and beasts, stood over them. Their fortress, a symbol of defense against the Nohrian threat, existed between the feet of just one challenger.

“Oh, my. I almost didn’t notice you all,” Camilla teased, a hand smugly brought near her lips. Her voice echoed to the ears below, an incredible sound like the sky was shaking. “This is a fortress, isn’t it? How cute it looks when it’s so small…!”

The army within had been paralyzed under the gigantic enemy, but a new wave of panic rushed over them. The weight overhead began crashing down, so massive and quick that the wind beneath her blew uncontrollably. Guards poured out the doors to flee, others took to cowering anywhere they could find. Not one had the chance to escape the shadow of Camilla’s ass, each half worthy to be its own comet, though it did not swallow whole the fortress. Mercy came in the image of pitch spandex, tightly wrapped around Camilla’s hips and exposed by the design of her armor. The purple veil at her hips descended without the loftiness of a thin fabric, but like an expansive blanket that draped around the fortress and its surrounding area.

“Even when I sit this close, I don’t actually see any soldiers. Is anyone defending it, I wonder?”

Soldiers called out to one another in desperate warning as Camilla began to shift. Hovering overhead came a weapon-like finger, angled down curiously at the mayhem. The tip alone eclipsed much of the sky, growing wider as it neared with uncaring speed. A tower, once a proud monument of the fortress, was caved into, its roof blasted in from above as the finger tore into it. The top few floors collapsed under the weight like sand, and with just an extra push, the entire structure was toppled over. Debris was but dust that coated her gloved finger, this one limb more impressive in scale than what it had just leveled.

A second later, before the soldiers within the fortress could get back onto their feet and even comprehend the nature of the assault, the finger was being lifted away. Up in the air, a collection of survivors latched to the glove and were taken away with it, much to Camilla’s delight. She examined the soldiers closely, her giant purple eye hauntingly observant of their struggle. Tiny eyes would stare back at her, one last plea to be spared.

“How unfortunate that you had to be stationed here,” Camilla mocked, adjusting her finger’s angle so that the people were less likely to fall. She considered the drop they had to be staring down, and she giggled more. “Tonight, an impossible enemy came to vanquish your fort. Rest soundly, knowing the rest of your kingdom will suffer similarly~”

Disregarding the people and their plights, Camilla grinded her thumb and finger together. The stragglers on her finger were either crushed or forced off, their lives ended within the act of a woman dusting off her hand. The remains were sprinkled back over the fortress where the chaos was ever alive. Despite a majority of its forces having evacuated outside the walls, not one unit had reached a distance outside of Camilla’s encompassing ass.

“There is more to do than just play with all of you here,” Camilla explained coyly, still amused by the madness she had stirred. “In fact, I do believe that cute building up ahead is my next target~ I shouldn’t get distracted, but it is so fun to be in the battle!

“Fortunately, it isn’t very far at all. In fact, I won’t need to move, will I? Camilla gauged the distance with her new extreme height, pleased with her estimate. A few miles north of where she squatted was another stronghold, accompanied with a town and its population. The rugged terrain that divided the two forts was meaningless to Camilla, who could cross the gap in just a couple steps -- or, as she had planned, even less than that.

The massive boots curled and rooted deeper into the earth before shifting forward. Two more colossal steps shook the ground as Camilla repositioned herself, moving ahead so that her ass was directly hanging over the fortress and its territory. The panic was unyielding from what it already had been, but those that stopped to question why the darkness had deepened would gawk upwards and witness a ceiling of black fabric bound tightly around fatty flesh. Without any uproar to announce its fall, the ass crashed upon them, turning the fortress and its guards into a cushion under Camilla’s butt.

Camilla was tickled as she claimed her seat. The cold rubble of the devastated fortress melted against her skin. Bricks and steel alike melded into one gray mess that stained her spandex. A crater formed on demand, a flattened grave for the leagues of soldiers that Camilla had finished playing with. Just as quickly did she forget them, her eye taking fascination with the untouched town ahead of her. A whole new list of possibilities came to mind as she finished claiming her seat, her legs stretched out across the entire distance.

They swept across the countryside like a mobilized flying army, two boots that were swift approaching the quiet community. Onlookers had stared off into the distance since earlier, believing to have mixed a dream with reality; the gorgeous portrait view of the mountain range had been replaced with a surreal monster, a woman several miles tall and seemingly playing with the river fortress. The unease the townspeople endured crescendoed into an immediate breakdown as the mighty soles of Camilla’s boots came charging towards them, callously ready to grind them away.

Yet they stopped short. Boom, as one touched the ground, and the other on top of it, boom. Camilla crossed her mile-long legs, entering a relaxed pose while the world under her was squashed and distorted. The weight of her thighs and boots trampled the landscape, leaving a scar of dirt that split through forests, creeks, roads, and even a humble hamlet. Her soles were raised up, a display of art for her onlookers to be immersed in. The tread of Camilla’s boots was littered with vague rubble of all that she had stomped on thus far, trails of dust cascading off the fine edges that were each wide enough for people to stand on.

The defenses of the fortress sprung to life. Deciding to fight to protect their town, soldiers unleashed a counter-attack scaled for an invading army, from the confines of their base. Nearly every individual was armed with a bow or manning a catapult, launching on command a wave of projectiles that whistled in the cold air. Not a single arrow nor stone was even felt by Camilla, not one able to pierce the leather of her boots or even alert the princess of their efforts. She idly rocked her top foot up and down, amused enough by this alone.

“This will make for two enemy fortresses utterly defeated, and all I’ve done is sit down and stretch,” Camilla reminded the people, her voice rumbling over the land like an incredible thunder. “You were all so confident in attacking Nohr before. Did you not realize what kind of power you little creatures were mocking? The day your country was invaded and decimated was the day I happened to relax from other matters~”

Camilla’s foot was raised, conducting an orchestra of screams from the townspeople she targeted. They were all thrown into a frenzy as their peaceful night had been so dramatically twisted into an event of horror, and it only seemed imminent that their fate would come crashing upon them, regardless of where they ran. Even the most loyal soldiers abandoned rank and fled to inside the fort, praying that its walls might last one last battle.

With just the heel of her boot, Camilla tore the town in half. The spike-like bottom slammed atop buildings that immediately gave in to the pressure, a brief resistance to the upcoming quake. The town rattled when it landed, forcing a silence onto the ongoing screams and cries for just one deafening moment. Wider and longer than any of their roads, the heel divided their community into two parts, including the fortress she had aimed for. Its proud middle had been cracked into, and so were the hundreds of its guards slain by the footwear.

The survivors had hope, but Camilla giggled aloud as she dashed that as well. The townspeople assumed that this had been the attack, and that she might move on as mercy. Instead, Camilla dropped her other foot onto the scene as well, instantly causing that same amount of destruction all over again. Camilla turned her heels so that her soles faced each other, and between them was the remains of the town, trapped in the jaw-like shape of the princess’s feet.

“This is quite the victory,” Camilla hummed. Her feet grinded closer on the people, many of which had yet to realize how entrapped they were. All around them, like immense walls, they were surrounded by the bleak images of Camilla’s boots and the terrain her walk had dug up. “But, it doesn’t feel like a military honor. It just feels like I’m being too mean to bugs.”

Closer still did her feet come together. The outskirts of the town were now folded onto itself, a rolling cliff of garbaged buildings that thousands fled from lest they be wrapped into the violence as well. In some situations at these corners, mobs were trapped and resorted to hopelessly pushing back against the debris, as though they could contest with Camilla’s feet. Block by block, her feet closed the distance further, until there had to be only a handful of survivors all pinned around the devastated fortress.

“All of you must have lived so contently here outside of Nohr’s reach. We have let you become too comfortable, haven’t we? Bestowing this kind of punishment is normally beneath us, but the honor of Nohrian nobility cannot be scarred.” Her smile was brightened, a serene expression -- as though the townspeople should be at peace to be obliterated this way. Those who could awed at the goddess that decided their fates, torn by how reasonable and pristine their invader appeared while weaving death at her toes.

With only that smile as her farewell, Camilla sealed her enemies into a mountain of debris. Unflinchingly, her boots collided and smashed together the remnants of the town. Shattered structures all meshed together into one sandy mess, even the sturdiest materials becoming minced under such reckless pressure. The locations of festivals, games, shops, and feasts had been blended together, the colors of such scenes spilled out over top of each other as the high-heels continued grinding it all into a powder.

“Your little town has dirtied my boots,” Camilla announced, leaned forward so that she could survey her results. Her boots separated to reveal the wasteland she had created. Where there had once been life and community protected by a fair army, there was now barrenness, a plain that saw dirt and rocks lazily shaped into ridges. At the heart of this imprint was a spire of trash, a monument of Camilla’s invasion. “But there are other armies I should tend to. It will be most entertaining to watch them react to seeing their own kind plastered into my soles~”

Camilla rose to her complete stature, casually leaving behind the destruction as though she had woken from a nap. All around her, she saw the evidence of life, little as it might be. More towns and more armies called for her attention, and so the rhythm of earthquakes continued, on the approach to another helpless target.

 

...

 

The capital city, overlooking its realm from the heart of the kingdom. Mighty walls had withheld over generations, circling the sprawl of buildings that housed tens of thousands of citizens. At the highest point was the castle, far larger than any other structure. Four towers rose from around its center, fortified walls connecting them all together with courtyards and gardens filling the gaps. There were grand staircases that lead to humbling doors, and balconies that surveyed wonderful views. It was a pristine location of beauty that the most respected nobles lived in, but Camilla was unimpressed. She saw little more than a nest for insects, situated between her high heels.

“Goodness, what a small castle,” Camilla giggled. Though her home in Castle Krakenburg was certainly superior, she could find this country’s to be cute if nothing else. “I nearly walked right over you all. Was that your strategy, I wonder? To hide and go unnoticed?” That smile persisted by its lonesome -- so huge was Camilla that even a panicking city went unheard by her, leaving her alone with this toy-sized civilization.

She wished she could observe the response to her teasing, but the people were much too small to be heard. It was a challenge to even see and make out any one particular person, each life just a tiny dot that Camilla could easily look past. But she could see the crowds and how they rushed through thin streets and spilled out the walls, waves of citizens desperately trying to evacuate or find shelter. Most prominent, however, was the army and the positions taken around the capital. Four blocks of knights and cavalry stood at the bridge leading to the city, so tightly organized that Camilla could specify commanders from grunts based on the arrangement of their torches. Supporting them along the walls were archers and ballistas, and safely behind them were healers and mages, their magic at the ready. It was a distant view that was lacking in detail, but a strategically strong angle, allowing her to see all that her enemy planned in their feeble defense.

“Corrin would love a view like this~” Camilla hummed to herself. “Though, I don’t think there’s much need for strategy at this point. Sorry, tiny soldiers, but you’ve already lost~” Her knees bent so that she could crouch down over the capital, immediately casting doubt and disorder among the army. The line of command was breaking, which Camilla could loosely comprehend was happening. “It’s in your best interest to run,” she advised, “but at this point… there’s really no escape for any of you, whether you take orders from failed captains or not.”

Camilla did love to gloat in front of a bloodied and beaten enemy, but what was most exciting was the fight still left in these warriors. There was so much life, however timid and minuscule each life was. Although some had fallen out of line to flee, many stood their ground, genuinely believing that they could possibly ward off this enormous threat. Yet, there had been zero drills for this kind of attack, no routine to run, and already had their morale been shattered simply due to their one opponent squatting closer to them.

Camilla repositioned, her movements indirectly displaying her tremendous power. One mountain-sized heel carved through the earth in a backwards streak, uprooting forests and hills and lakes into one nondescript waste. The knee of that same leg plummeted, crashing miles away from the capital but with enough force to rattle them nonetheless. The other leg followed, doubling the destruction just so Camilla stand over her foes on her knees. She was closer to them now, but how that could be used to the defenders’ advantage, no commander knew. The weight of her gigantic body threw more turmoil onto the soldiers, but if there was any time to attack, it had to be then.

No foot soldier had the range to strike the giantess. They could only gawk at the majestic form of the princess, overwhelmingly at her mercy. Archers launched waves of arrows skyward, but their projectiles were too small, too weak, and too trivial to harm any part of her. Even their ballistas, a signature defensive weapon, were failing to leave injury, at best lodging a splinter-sized bolt somewhere in the fabric of her dress or the leather of her boots. The army was in an uproar, spurred into their bloody roars as if this were anything like a traditional engagement. The whole event worked a laugh from Camilla, who proceeded to position herself nonetheless.

“Will this make it any easier for you?” Camilla asked; she had leaned in close while beginning to lay down, and so her breaths flooded the walls of the city like a change in the weather. “I’ll be as close as I can to you all -- can’t you at least make me flinch? Is your army capable of that?”

As though it were a direct response to her request, the next wave of the capital’s attack was unleashed. Fliers, a combination of wyvern riders and pegasus knights, had taken to the skies. They moved in an established formation, every rider synchronized within their battalion and moving forward in unison. The beasts themselves were uneasy flying ahead as they were, but their riders felt worse, all too aware of how hopeless this battle was becoming.

Despite their swift approach, Camilla didn’t notice. She continued to lay down, thinking more of how her feet were likely ruining trade routes if not entirely rubbing out towns and hamlets. It was odd, she could admit, to be stretched out over miles of countryside -- she spanned a length that would take a day to cross by foot -- but it was also relaxing, and it enabled her to see more clearly into the chaos she was strewing. Where her hands pierced the earth to support her weight, wide craters were formed, the ground flattened to its very limits so that her body could be supported.

Camilla blinked and brought one such hand to her cheek in thought, uncaring of the wasteland it had come from. She looked beneath her, seemingly with some distress. “Where did it go?” she said to herself, but her thought boomed over the capital for all to hear. “Ah, there you all are.” Camilla giggled, realizing that the city had been overshadowed by her bust. She pulled her breasts back, and there she could see the little castle and its territory. It had been that easy for her to lose sight of the capital and the countless people within.

It was then that she noticed the aerial attack posed against her. Like pollen in a breeze, specks came fluttering towards her, aimed at her torso which had recently lowered and overtaken everything facing the capital. Battalions split apart from the main cluster as to strike from multiple angles, but no attack was effective. Spears and axes that were thrown regularly fell short of their target, and closing the distance for melee proved equally inefficient, often resulting in their weapons breaking against her armor or bouncing off her flesh. Balls of fire hurled by pegasus knights would spread into nothingness against the huge opponent, not even leaving a burn to be proud of. All of their efforts were useless, and yet it was objectively their best attempt, a full-force attack with the best movement options available.

It all made no difference to Camilla. She grazed her hand through the air, her fingers penetrating their ranks and dividing the forces into a swirling swarm. It was a gesture, only meant to wave them away, but several riders were directly struck by her building-sized fingers, disabling their animals and dismissing them into a downward spiral. Others were fortunate to only endure the wind of her hand’s movement, which proved wild enough to disrupt many more fliers into submission.

On the ground level, all had been beckoned to from above. Be they citizens, soldiers, or royalty, a shadow blanketed the capital and its roused population. The moonlight was blocked not by wicked magic, but by a Nohrian princess’s breasts. Two globes barely contained by the lavishly designed armor hovered over the land like celestial objects, each taking position to claim one half of the city and then some. Outside the capital’s walls or within the castle’s defenses, safety had no guarantee for anyone. Their demise was imminent, their existence trivialized to that of a game this princess had decided to play.

“It’s important to stomp out the embers entirely. We wouldn’t want another upstart against the Nohr Empire, would we?”  Camilla peered over her chest, again moving her breasts back so she could perceive the small city. Awestruck onlookers gazed back into her one unveiled eye, their lives increasingly belittled the longer they stared. Civilians begged for mercy, so uninvolved with the conflict; churches were flooded with refuge seekers that prayed for protection. Only in passing did Camilla regret that innocents were going to be lost in the carnage, but she had no such sympathy for the nobles. Her attention had centered on where they gathered, that puny castle with its four towers and jagged walls and flapping banners.

The battle grew more hectic against Camilla. A league of knights charged where her torso met the ground, an impassable wall of black that no weapon could crack. When she leaned closer to the ground, she unknowingly brought upon the army a wave of her body that slowly enveloped acres of vanguard. Up above, the once organized units of the flying company was in ribbons of its former self. Camilla’s descent onto the capital was an unexpected progression of mass that the fliers were left to respond to. Even the most reactionary of maneuvers was not enough for many to dodge the encroaching barrier, resulting in soldiers dislodged from their mounts or directly crashing into Camilla. The defeated were left to fall onto her exposed bosom like powder, but Camilla acknowledged none of this; she only desired the castle, and what happened around her went unnoticed.

They hung threateningly, decisively over her target. Her breasts, garbed in the black cups of her armor, swayed with an impossible weight in their hover above the castle. A mere amount of meters was all that separated the tallest roof from the tips of her nipples, their pointedness vaguely visible to those panicking beneath her. The last attempts of defense were made; archers shot straight upward, mages conjured lightning, and it delayed nothing. Camilla barely felt this assault on her chest, tickled more than anything by their death throes. She was unstoppable, but teasingly slow, lowering her weight only a fraction at a time.

Contact was made. Her left breast, off-shot of her nipple, had broken into one of the towers. Its pointed roof crumbled instantly under the mass, and soon after did its top third snap to one side. Successful evacuees of the structure looked up in horror, the architecture insulted by the way it crumbled to one side by the push of a single breast. Rubble rained down on those very same onlookers, and in the next moment, the upper half was toppling over them. A hardy crash, a wave of dust billowed through the streets, and Camilla laughed.

“Your defenses are so fragile,” the titan cooed. “Don’t worry. A better civilization will prosper from this destruction. The survivors that prove themselves can migrate to my body for shelter~ You all will be much safer this way, you know. I’ll always be looking over you, like a big sister should~”

The distance dwindled. The remaining airborne fliers either dove to the surface, or were caught in her motion. Two towers met the breasts, but their pride buckled instantly under the dropping weight. An unconscious fidget called for the fourth tower’s demolition, blown to bits after her boob swayed into it. The heart of the castle was spared despite being just as tall, for Camilla’s cleavage had selected it to survive. It was her intent to have everything flattened under her chest but that, where the king and his family was certainly sheltered. She imagined how it must be for them, to be trapped in their own throne room while two walls of fat sank over their kingdom.

The walls crumbled, and so too did the hundreds of houses. To the very final moment, the population raced for refuge by any means possible. Their havoc and distress grew more rampant as the ceiling above closed down, swallowing everything it touched into dark destruction. There was nothing that could stop Camilla’s rack from enveloping them, for even the strongest barriers could only massage a squish of skin. Desperate mobs pounded at the gates of the castle, demanding to be let in as though it were a revolt, but there was no longer any time. Begging, fleeing, and fighting had beget the same fortune.

Widespread destruction and death, surmised to just one muffled crunch. Camilla’s breasts had flattened the city to almost its entirety. The homes, the shops, the churches, the storage houses, the courtyards, the stables; all was mutilated into a flat plain of garbage, pressed out of existence. Camilla’s breasts had conquered the city with an earthshaking victory, letting it be known across miles and miles that she had humiliated her enemy.

There was left only a shimmer of life. True to her promise, all but the castle itself had been crushed, and even that survived with considerable damage done to its structure. The outer walls were met with a flood of flesh that poured over the barriers, a force that stopped just short of squashing the main building. The width of Camilla’s cleavage had been vital in deciding who lived and who died, for it was only within that space that survivors had been spared, allowed to rise from their fallen states so that they can comprehend the devastation. They awed in terror of what they awoke to; skin that stretched far to either side, pooled around their miserable castle while a grin mocked them from the heavens.

“Another castle claimed in the name of Nohr,” Camilla joked. “Pitiful things. Generations of labor and inheritance have submitted to me laying down upon your capital. It should be clear now, that our kingdoms were never alike. You are and always will be vastly inferior; you should all remember that well from now on, as you spend the rest of your existence on my body. This is an honor you should appreciate, allowed to become specks on a proud Nohrian body.”

Chapter End Notes:


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