Crumpet had reached his limit.
He was a noble horse.
He was patient.
He had endured Reginald's questionable swordsmanship, the King's shrieking habits, and Honkulus's glowing backside.
But *two entire poultry cults preparing to battle in the streets*?
No.
Absolutely not.
Crumpet trotted forward between the feathery armies, raised a hoof, and let out a perfectly dignified neigh meaning:
"Everyone CALM DOWN right now."
The goose cult quieted.
The chicken cult paused.
Reginald blinked in awe.
Honkulus ignored it entirely and puffed up like a feathery balloon of divine fury.
The chicken leader, still wearing her disturbingly realistic chicken mask, stepped forward with equal intensity.
Both creatures locked eyes.
A spark crackled in the air.
Crumpet immediately knew this was very bad.
"Wait!" Reginald shouted. "There must be a peaceful way!"
But it was too late.
The chicken leader slammed her staff into the ground.
Honkulus flapped his wings.
The crowd parted dramatically as if the two were legendary warriors.
One goose.
One chicken-cloaked leader.
One highly concerned horse.
One panicking knight.
The Sacred Duel was beginning.
A hush fell over the courtyard.
A single tumbleweed rolled by even though tumbleweeds did not exist in this kingdom.
The chicken leader clucked.
Honkulus honked.
The cultists gasped.
Crumpet stepped between them again and cleared his throat loudly — a deep, diplomatic *Hrrrrrrrmph!*
He looked at the chicken leader and gestured with his hoof to the goose, then to the cultists, then to the King (who was hiding behind a pillar). His meaning was clear:
**"This is ridiculous. Everyone go home and stop worshiping poultry."**
The chicken leader blinked.
Honkulus blinked.
For a moment, it seemed like reason might win.
Then Honkulus, in a burst of radiant cosmic chaos, lifted off the ground a few inches and unleashed an echoing, dramatic honk.
The chicken leader clucked back, her cloak billowing as if powered by divine barnyard energy.
Crumpet groaned.
Reginald covered his eyes.
And then—
**BATTLE.**
Not normal battle.
The most absurd display of poultry magic the kingdom had ever seen.
Honkulus fired sparkling feathers like magical arrows.
The chicken leader spun her rubber-chicken staff, deflecting each one with a loud squeaky sound.
Honkulus charged with wings spread like a furious angel of feathery judgment.
She countered with a storm of enchanted corn kernels.
The crowd cheered wildly, switching between chanting "HONK!" and "CLUCK!" with zero consistency.
Crumpet tried diplomacy again by tapping both combatants on the head.
They both ignored him.
"Why does nothing listen to me?" Crumpet muttered in perfect equine despair.
Finally, Reginald rushed forward. "Stop! Please! This isn't— AACK!"
A flying corn kernel hit him squarely in the forehead. He fell over in slow motion.
Crumpet face-hoofed.
The duel continued, louder and more ridiculous than before.
And so, the situation worsened:
**A goose glowing like a divine lantern.
A chicken cult leader channeling ancient poultry fury.
A horse whose diplomacy failed.
A knight unconscious on the ground.**
The Sacred Duel had only just begun.
The goose–chicken duel raged on like a feathery apocalypse
Honkulus flared with cosmic sparkles.
The chicken leader spun her squeaky staff of doom.
Corn kernels exploded like popcorn grenades.
Crumpet, standing between them with the patience of a saint and the rage of a tired horse, tried one more time to neigh diplomacy into the world.
No luck.
Then—
The sky crackled.
Magic swirled.
A rumbling shook the courtyard.
And with absolutely zero explanation…
**A giant glowing egg dropped from the sky.**
It landed right between Honkulus and the chicken leader with a thunderous *KRA-BOOMF*, sending both sides stumbling backward.
The egg was taller than Reginald.
Wider than Crumpet.
And glowing with an ominous mixture of yellow, white, and "something is very deeply wrong."
Everyone froze.
Honkulus honked in confusion.
The chicken leader clucked suspiciously.
Reginald—still dazed on the ground—said, "Did… did breakfast just attack us?"
The egg wobbled.
Magic sparked.
Something inside **thumped**.
Both cults gasped.
"IT'S A SIGN!" shouted a goose cultist.
"NO, IT'S *OUR* SIGN!" shouted a chicken cultist.
And just like that, both cults rushed forward, desperately arguing over whose divine prophecy the mysterious egg belonged to.
Crumpet had had enough.
He reared up dramatically, landing with a thunderous stomp that echoed through the courtyard.
"NEIGH!"
(Translation: SIT. DOWN.)
Shockingly… everyone did.
The goose cult stopped arguing.
The chicken cult froze mid-cluck.
Even Honkulus and the chicken leader exchanged looks like, *okay, the horse is in charge now.*
Crumpet took a dignified step toward the egg.
Neigh, he commanded.
("Nobody touch this egg until we figure out what it is.")
Both cults nodded reverently.
The chicken leader bowed. "The Great Stallion speaks…"
A goose cultist whispered, "Is… is this a second Chosen One?"
Another gasped. "Are we forming a **horse cult** now?!"
Reginald sat up, eyes widening in horror. "NO. No more cults! We already have too many poultry religions!"
But it was too late.
Both cults turned to Crumpet with absolute awe.
Someone handed him a makeshift crown made of straw.
Someone else offered a basket of apples.
Crumpet tried to refuse—
But the more he shook his head, the more they believed he was performing sacred horse gestures.
"BEHOLD!" a cultist cried, "Commander Crumpet, Warden of the Egg!"
Both cults fell to their knees.
Reginald stared in disbelief.
Honkulus honked with growing jealousy.
The chicken leader clucked a little louder, trying not to be overshadowed by a horse.
Then—
**The egg cracked.**
Once.
Twice.
A glowing fissure spread across its shell.
The entire courtyard held its breath.
Something inside shifted.
And a deep, echoing **BONK** reverberated from within.
Crumpet's eyes widened.
Reginald whispered, "Oh no… what now?"
And the egg split open—
The enormous egg cracked open with a shattering *KRRRAAAK* that echoed across the entire courtyard.
Everyone leaned forward.
Reginald held his breath.
Honkulus glowed ominously.
The chicken leader raised her squeaky staff protectively.
Crumpet stood firm—because Crumpet had emotionally checked out hours ago.
From inside the egg came…
A squeak.
A chirp.
A *honk*.
And then—
**A tiny, wobbly creature stumbled out.**
It had:
* Fluffy white down like a baby goose
* Wings tipped with shimmering scales
* A tiny snout with a teensy dragon fang
* Webbed feet
* And a tail that was currently wagging so hard it spun it in a circle
The entire courtyard gasped.
And then the creature looked up…
Blink-blink.
Saw Crumpet.
And immediately **imprinted** on him.
With a delighted honk-squeak, it flapped its wings and face-planted directly into Crumpet's chest.
Crumpet froze.
Reginald whispered, "Oh my goodness… it thinks you're its mother."
The tiny dragon-goose let out a joyful little puff of smoke followed by a proud *HONK!* that was somehow both adorable and threatening.
Honkulus marched forward angrily, feathers puffed and glowing.
"HONK!" he declared, jealous and offended.
The baby honked back, attempting to imitate him, but made a squeaky kazoo noise instead.
The goose cult gasped.
"The Heir Goose has arrived!" yelled one.
The chicken cult gasped too.
"The Dragon of Foretold Clucks!" another cried.
The chicken leader pointed dramatically. "This child shall join the chicken prophecy!"
"NO!" shouted the goose cult. "It is clearly a goose! Look at the fluff!"
"Look at the tail!" retorted the chicken cult. "It's a dragon! A sacred chicken-dragon!"
"Chickens don't have dragons!"
"AND GEESE DON'T BREATHE FIRE!"
The baby proudly spat out a tiny spark that lit a nearby hay bale on fire.
Reginald stomped it out. "NO FIRE. BAD HYBRID BABY."
Crumpet stepped protectively in front of the hatchling, snorting with authority.
Both cults fell silent.
The baby nuzzled his hoof.
The goose cult whispered, "He protects the child…"
The chicken cult added, "He is the Chosen Commander…"
And together, both cults proclaimed:
**"ALL HAIL CRUMPET, MOTHER OF THE DRAGON-GOOSE!"**
Crumpet closed his eyes, desperately wishing he could quit life.
Reginald covered his face. "Why does everything become a cult around here?!"
Honkulus glared at the baby, then at Crumpet, then at the world in general.
The hatchling flapped up onto Crumpet's back, wobbled, fell off, and honked proudly.
Reginald sighed. "Well… I guess we have a new party member."
The tiny dragon-goose squeaked fire again, then hiccupped smoke.
Crumpet groaned.
Chaos had evolved.
The courtyard remained a mess of feathers, cracked egg shell, and confused royalty when the dragon-goose hatchling waddled up to Honkulus.
It stared up at him with giant, adoring eyes.
Honkulus stared down with the expression of someone who has been handed a screaming baby in the middle of a church.
The tiny creature puffed a smoke-ring shaped like a heart.
Then, in a squeaky, earnest voice—
**"Honk…cle."**
The goose cult fainted.
The chicken cult fainted harder.
Reginald fainted *twice*.
Honkulus froze, feathers lifting, magic sparking.
The baby flapped its stubby wings joyfully and repeated:
**"Honk-cle!"**
Everyone waited for Honkulus's reaction.
He puffed up.
He glowed brighter.
He honked loudly enough to rattle windows in three nearby villages.
Crumpet interpreted that as:
"I AM NOT OLD ENOUGH TO BE AN UNCLE."
Reginald interpreted it as:
"Oh no he's proud and furious at the same time—run."
The hatchling, overjoyed, tried to copy Honkulus's majestic honk and instead produced a sound like a startled kazoo dipped in soup.
The cults erupted.
"THE BABY HAS CHOSEN THE GREAT HONKULUS AS ITS UNCLE!" the goose cult screamed.
"THE HOLY FAMILY IS COMPLETE!" the chicken cult wailed.
Then—very suddenly—every cultist turned toward Crumpet.
The goose cult leader proclaimed, "Mother Crumpet must guide us!"
The chicken cult leader added, "Lead us to the sacred place of destiny!"
Reginald sputtered, "Please no. No more sacred places. We can't even walk to a bakery without disaster."
But it was too late.
The entire mass of goose-believers and chicken-devotees dropped to their knees.
They raised their arms toward the horse.
Honkulus glowed dramatically, standing protectively by the baby.
The dragon-goose flapped in excitement and lit a shrub on fire.
Reginald stomped that fire out. Again.
The cults chanted in unison:
**"CRUMPET! CRUMPET! CRUMPET!"**
Crumpet's eyes widened with the horror of a creature realizing it had somehow become a religious icon.
"What pilgrimage?!" Reginald shouted above the chant.
The chicken leader answered, "To the **Pond of Ascended Beasts**, where all holy creatures are tested!"
The goose cult leader added, "Where destinies are revealed!"
A cultist piped up: "And free snacks are shared!"
Crumpet slammed a hoof down.
Everyone fell silent.
He neighed firmly.
("No. Absolutely not. I am not leading an army of bird-worshippers across the kingdom.")
The cults interpreted this as:
**"Mother Crumpet accepts the sacred responsibility!"**
Reginald screamed internally.
Honkulus honked triumphantly.
And the dragon-goose jumped onto Crumpet's back, yelling:
**"HONK-CLIIIIMB!"**
(which definitely meant "Let's go, Mom Horse!")
The cults roared with joy, preparing banners, snacks, drums, and way too many feathers.
Reginald stared at Crumpet.
Crumpet stared back.
Both shared the same thought:
**"We are not getting paid enough for this."**
Thus began the most absurd pilgrimage in the history of the kingdom.