Page 36

W e stood at the chamber’s threshold, heat radiating from the depths below.

Azrael placed his hands on the stone, chanting in a language older than time.

The ground trembled, the air thick with magic.

The moment the bindings shattered, the world seemed to hold its breath.

A deep, ancient growl rumbled from the abyss below, the heat intensifying as molten light seeped through the cracks in the stone. The dragon stirred.

A gust of searing wing burst forth as an immense form began to emerge.

Scales as dark as the void shimmered with molten veins, shifting like liquid fire beneath the beast’s skin.

Two glowing, slitted eyes pierced through the darkness, locking onto Azrael with a gaze heavy with recognition, and challenge.

The dragon, a creature of primordial chaos, stretched its wings, causing the walls to tremble. Its voice was not spoken but thundered within our minds, carrying the weight of eternity itself.

“You dare wake me?”

Azrael stepped forward, his stance unwavering despite the overwhelming power before him. “I do.” His voice was calm, firm. “The world stands on the edge of annihilation. It is time for you to fulfil your purpose.”

The dragon exhaled sharply, embers swirling around its maw. “I serve no one, demon.”

Azrael’s lips curved in a knowing smile. “I am not asking

you to serve. I am offering you the one thing you crave more than freedom.”

The dragon narrowed its glowing eyes. “And what would that be?”

Azrael stepped closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “A reckoning.”

Silence. Then, a low rumble of dark amusement. “Speak your terms.”

Azrael turned slightly, glancing over his shoulder where I stood, his expression unreadable. He exhaled, then motioned to the dragon, leading it away from where I could hear.

A few moments go by before Azrael returns to us.

The dragon let out a deep, rumbling laugh.

“Very well, demon. I shall play your game.” It lowered its massive head, those burning eyes gleaming.

“But if you fail to hold up your end, if I am left chained again, I will burn this world to the ground, starting with you.”

Azrael didn’t flinch. “If we fail, no world will be left to burn.”

A moment passed. Then, with a mighty sweep of its wings, the dragon descended back into the abyss, vanishing into the darkness below. The earth sealed itself again, leaving only faint heat traces in the stone.

Azrael turned back towards me, schooling his features into impassivity. I watched him, suspicion flickering in my gaze.

“What did you say to it?” I asked.

Azrael’s expression remained unreadable. “Only what needed to be said.”

My eyes narrowed, but I didn’t press. Not yet. The war was coming, and soon, all would be revealed.

The days that followed were spent in a flurry of preparations.

Messages were sent to our scattered allies, each of us getting ready for the battles to come.

But the unease lingered. I could not shake the feeling that Azrael was hiding something, that whatever he had whispered to the dragon in secret would change the course of our war in ways none of us could predict.

Darius and Bastian trained tirelessly with the Lycans, testing the limits of their strength and forging an uneasy camaraderie with the warriors of the Ashen Wilds.

The Nightborne Fae remained elusive, their motives unclear, yet they had given their word.

Cold and silent as the grave, the Revenant Knights prepared their cursed weapons, eager for their promised vengeance.

On the eve of battle, I found Azrael standing on the keep’s balcony, gazing at the dark horizon. The air was thick with anticipation, the sky heavy with the weight of what would come.

“You never answered me,” I said, stepping beside him. “What did you say to it?”

Azrael’s gaze didn’t waver. “I told it the truth.”

I crossed my arms. “Which is?”

“That this war is bigger than any of us.” His voice was quiet,

but there was a steel edge to it. “And sometimes, even chaos must wait for the right moment to strike.”

I studied him, searching for the cracks in his resolve, but he gave me nothing. Azrael was an enigma who walked the line between shadow and salvation. The war horns sounded in the distance. The time had come.

As we descended into the courtyard, warriors from every corner of the land stood ready.

The Lycans growled in anticipation, the Fae shimmered like living shadows, and the Revenant Knights stood in eerie silence, their spectral eyes glowing with a thirst for retribution.

Bastian tightened the straps on his armour, flashing me a confident grin.

Darius clapped a hand on my shoulder. “No turning back now.”

Azrael stood before them all, his voice carrying across the courtyard.

“Tonight, we do not fight for survival. We fight for vengeance. For those taken, those lost, and the world they seek to destroy.” His eyes burned as he looked at each of us.

“Hold the line. Stay your course. And when the moment comes...” He glanced toward the volcano’s heart, where the dragon slept again. “Strike without mercy.”

The gates creaked open. The battlefield awaited. And with it, the reckoning we had been promised.

As we reached the Barren Lands, we first saw the storm of darkness awaiting us.

A monstrous army had already gathered on the far side of the barren earth: twisted creatures of shadow and fire, towering warlords clad in obsidian armour, and wraith-like horrors that drifted through the air with whispers of death.

They had heard of our rising force, and they had come prepared.

A massive, horned figure stood at the centre of their ranks, clad in jagged black plate, his eyes glowing with malice.

The Dread Lord himself, I only thought he was a myth, spoken of by legends in the Great War.

But standing across from him felt very real.

War drums pounded a sound that made the very ground tremble beneath our feet.

Azrael stood at the front, his cloak billowing in the acrid wind. “They expected us,” he muttered. “Good.”

The Lycans howled, their war cries shattering the silence. The Revenant Knights raised their spectral blades. The Nightborne Fae vanished into the gloom, ready to strike from the shadows. Bastian drew his sword, its runes igniting with golden fire.

Then, the silence broke. The storm of war crashed upon us like a tidal wave of shadow and fire.

The enemy surged forward, a relentless tide of horrors forged in darkness.

Screeches of wraiths tore through the night, met by the howls of Lycans as they leapt into the fray.

The Revenant Knights, clad in their spectral armour, stood unmoving as the creatures of the abyss charged.

Then, in unison, they raised their cursed blades and struck with precision, cutting through the advancing ranks like wraiths of vengeance given form.

The first clash was deafening. Steel met flesh, claw met bone, and the earth beneath us became a graveyard before the battle began.

Lycans tore through the monstrous creatures savagely, their claws rending armour and sinew alike.

Bastian moved like a storm of golden fire, his blade carving through the darkness, each rune igniting the night with holy flame.

Darius fought beside me, his twin axes stained with ichor as he cut through a monstrous fiend with a snarl.

From the shadows, the Nightborne Fae struck with cruel efficiency.

They were ghosts on the battlefield, appearing behind enemy lines to plunge daggers into exposed throats before vanishing once more.

Their poison-coated blades sent the twisted creatures into spasms of death, their whispers carrying dread through the enemy ranks.

A monstrous warlord strode through the chaos, wielding a great sword that dripped with molten fire.

With a single swing, he cleaved through three Lycans, their bodies igniting as they fell.

The Revenant Knights descended upon him, striking with supernatural speed, but he roared, sending a wave of dark energy surging outward.

The knights staggered, their spectral forms flickering as if caught between this world and the next.

Azrael moved through the battlefield like a living tempest. Dark energy radiated from his form, his eyes burning with power as he raised a hand. Shadows coiled around him,

forming spears of void-born magic that impaled a dozen enemies at once. He lifted his other hand, and the very ground beneath the enemy’s feet split apart, swallowing them into the abyss.

The Dread Lord stood unmoving at the rear of his army, watching the chaos unfold with cruel amusement. His eyes locked onto Azrael, and I saw it then, the recognition, the loathing, and something else. Something deeper. History neither of them spoke of, but one that lingered like an open wound .

The enemy’s forces were endless. For every creature we struck down, another took its place.

Their war machines, great constructs of bone and magic, loomed over the battlefield, launching spears of searing black fire that rained upon our ranks.

Lycans were incinerated where they stood.

The Revenant Knights pushed forward through the storm, their bodies barely holding together against the arcane barrage.

A massive, horned beast roared, charging through the battlefield like a living battering ram.

I barely had time to react before it was upon me.

As I rolled to the side, its axe crashed into the earth, shattering the stone beneath us.

Darius lunged, burying one of his axes into the beast’s side, but it only snarled and backhanded him, sending him flying through the air.

I grit my teeth, feeling the weight of battle pressing down on me. But this was only the beginning. The real fight had yet to come. Somewhere in the heart of the volcano, the dragon waited. And when the time was right, it would rise, and reckoning would fall upon the world.