18+ Only. Play Responsibly.
The blue dragon looked smug before either dragon had done anything.
That was enough.
No evidence.
No statistics.
No previous history with either animal.
Just one enormous blue dragon curling above the right side of a temple while the red one occupied the left with slightly more respectable posture.
I chose red.
Completely arbitrary.
This would become important far sooner than it deserved.
The reels below them were five across and three high, filled with warriors, weapons, ornate symbols and enough red-and-blue decoration to make neutrality feel temporary.
I started with €33.25 and kept the stake at €0.40.
No reason to begin a dragon war with serious money.
If either side wanted my loyalty, they could earn it.
The first few spins suggested neither dragon had received that message.
Sword.
Warrior.
Letter.
Blue symbol.
Red symbol.
Nothing.
A small line returned some change.
Then another.
The dragons stayed above everything like two generals who had outsourced the entire battle to playing cards.
Several red Dragon symbols appeared over the opening stretch, but never enough together.
Two.
Gone.
Later, another two.
Gone.
Blue did the same.
Two on one spin.
One the next.
Nobody could organise three members of their own species at the same time.
For legendary creatures, their scheduling was poor.
The weapons were more reliable.
A sword line paid.
A warrior joined another small combination.
The temple kept moving while the actual dragons contributed mostly branding.
Seventeen spins took the balance down to €30.45.
Nothing serious.
Red had not embarrassed itself yet.
Blue had also failed to provide evidence.
Then three red Dragons landed together.
There.
Finally.
My completely baseless allegiance had received paperwork.
The three Dragons transformed into Wilds.
Stayed where they were.
The rest of the grid narrowed into red territory.
No blue clutter.
No diplomatic compromise.
Only Wilds and symbols matching the red side were allowed to arrive.
The temple had gone from multicultural battlefield to aggressively colour-coded private event.
The first win was small.
€0.80.
Fine.
The respin came.
The three Wild Dragons remained planted in their positions.
Fresh red symbols dropped around them.
A better connection formed.
€2.00.
Then it ended.
€2.80 from the whole sequence.
That was not exactly the conquest of Asia.
Still.
Red had appeared first.
Scoreboard:
Red: one Power Respin.
Blue: decorative serpent.
I continued at €0.40.
There was no reason to increase anything after €2.80.
The red dragon had won a skirmish, not discovered gunpowder.
The next stretch became much drier.
Warrior.
Weapon.
Cards.
A few small lines.
Two red Dragons landed once and failed to find a third.
A blue Dragon appeared nearby.
I considered this interference.
Again, completely unsupported.
The actual mechanics had no interest in my developing foreign policy.
Nineteen spins removed a little more money.
The first red sequence had been slowly absorbed.
The balance moved under €29.
Blue remained above the reels looking far too comfortable.
Then four blue Dragons landed together.
Four.
Red had needed exactly three and produced €2.80.
Blue arrived with four as if making a point.
They transformed.
Wilds.
Held positions.
The respin became blue-only territory.
The red side vanished from consideration.
Fresh blue-matching symbols came in around four fixed Wild Dragons.
That was already more coverage than red had managed.
A line formed.
Then another.
€6.40.
Blue had more than doubled red’s effort.
Unacceptable.
The balance jumped to €34.85.
Financially, excellent.
Politically, disastrous.
I had started the session above €33.
Blue had just put me back into profit.
There was now an objective argument that my chosen dragon was worse.
I rejected it.
Numbers can be misleading.
Especially numbers produced by an enormous blue reptile with obvious attitude.
Fury Origin: Dragons Unleashed had turned into a sporting event nobody had advertised.
Red: €2.80.
Blue: €6.40.
I needed red to answer.
Not because the balance required it.
Because I had chosen a side on the opening screen based entirely on facial expression and was now too deep into the mistake to reconsider.
The next spins did not help.
One red Dragon.
Nothing.
Two blue Dragons.
Thankfully not enough.
A warrior line paid.
Then several blanks.
Another sword.
One small return.
The balance eased down again.
Blue’s contribution was being spent by ordinary symbols, which I considered encouraging.
Fourteen spins later, €31.05 remained.
The dragons had collectively achieved one important thing:
I no longer cared about €31.05.
I cared about €2.80 against €6.40.
That is how perfectly normal adults end up emotionally invested in imaginary reptiles.
Then three red Dragons landed.
Exactly three.
No fourth.
Red had arrived with the minimum legal delegation.
They transformed into Wilds and froze in place.
The rest of the grid switched back to red territory.
Good.
No blue symbols.
No distractions.
The opening arrangement already paid €1.20.
Better start than last time.
Respins.
The three Wild Dragons remained.
Fresh symbols landed around them.
Another Wild appeared.
Now we had more coverage.
The next win reached €3.20.
Red had already crossed its entire previous sequence.
The scoreboard was becoming respectable.
But the respin continued.
The original Dragons remained planted.
The additional Wild gave the grid another route.
More red-matching symbols fell.
For a moment the whole middle of the temple looked like the blue side had been legally evicted.
Another connection formed.
€5.60.
That pushed the sequence to €10.00.
Ten.
Red had answered €6.40 with €10.00.
Balance: €40.65.
More importantly:
Red had won.
Obviously.
There were no official points.
No cumulative dragon leaderboard.
No rule saying the colour producing the larger Power Respin should be considered victorious.
I supplied all of that myself.
The two dragons continued posing above the reels with complete indifference to the fact that I had just concluded a championship on their behalf.
Blue still looked smug.
That was fine.
Scoreboard.
Red: €12.80 across two appearances.
Blue: €6.40.
The case was closed.
I gave the temple nine more spins.
This was less about finding another feature and more about seeing whether blue would attempt an appeal.
One blue Dragon landed.
Alone.
Good.
A red one appeared two spins later.
Also alone.
No further hearing.
One ordinary line returned €0.80.
Everything else passed through without consequence.
The balance settled at €37.85.
Only €4.60 above the beginning.
A small win.
Barely enough to justify the amount of dragon nationalism that had developed around it.
The red dragon had needed two Power Respins to win the argument.
The blue dragon had required one very competent appearance to nearly take it.
The warriors and weapons spent the rest of the session behaving like support staff.
The temple remained split between warm red light and cold blue.
Neither dragon moved.
Neither acknowledged the result.
That was probably wise.
The official score existed only in my head.
Red still won.
Piggy Thief doesn’t offer multipliers. It offers mirages.