by SlyOkami
Digging down with her maw then, Hanae’s fangs tightened around Erikathy’s left foreleg, a force capable of crushing any city’s wall.
Yet, still his scales withheld.
Not a scratch, not a drop of blood, as Erikathyr pulled away.
Pushing off with all fours, as he beat his wings, Erik sent Hanae stumbling back.
As once more he opened his maw wide.
Not a chant, not even the semblance of one escaping his breath, as flames of darkness gushed out instead.
Hanae was engulfed, her vision going black as instead of feeling the flames burn away her flesh.
Immediately, whatever the darkness touched, it all went numb.
And as the Dragon returned to the skies, all watched in frozen awe, as the last of her kind…The Elder Beast fell to her knees, blood dripping out from what wasn’t charred black, as her expression lay passing into blankness.
Empress Hanae, in her strongest form, passed out from the agony.
Her massive body looming forward, threatening to collapse upon her scurrying people…Through a shuddering of reality, she suddenly returned to her previous form.
Collapsed and unconscious upon the scorched ground.
“With a single breath…” A Dwarven Lord mused as he gazed upon Zrosa’s strongest.
“It is not over yet!” Exclaimed a Snow Elf, one of New Druv’s chosen few, with features as white as their name recalls.
As he and his brethren all raised their arms forth, magic flaring within their eyes, many others also joined.
As chants of all kinds flowed through the armada below, the voices increasing with each word spoken.
Erikathyr swooped down once more, breathing out a black blaze in a wide arc all the while slashing his bladed tail along the ground, yet still the chanting continued, and spells ensued.
From the most common balls of flame formed by the foot soldiers, to complex coils of several elements flaring up into the sky, casted by the more expert of mages.
To then devastating barrages of power, as the Elven heroes casted forth their own.
Erikathyr flew, as fast as his massive form could manage, he evaded many a spell simply with his speed.
Yet, with a gigantic army unlike any other spanning the entirety of the ground below, he couldn’t evade them all.
As flames seared his scales, as ice formed solid along his wings, as lightning strikes and water blades struck his sides.
Those did little alone, but as thousands bashed into his body, together they caused much more.
Followed by a joint cast, the Elven heroes spoke their unified chant.
“Raise the elements shall thy, to my command thou flows. Fire, Water, Wind, Earth…” In Elven they each chanted, hands raised and eyes closed as they stood in a circle, “Lightning, Ice, Life and Light!” As each called upon element flowed out of their bodies, wind and light far greatly than the others, the elements formed at their centre.
“Upon what makes us and this world, calls thy. By thy power, move, strike!” They each called out, and the elements merged into an amalgamation of colours, taking the form of what seemed to be light, this was naught but a mixture of pure raw mana.
Erik turned to them just as they ended their chant, swooping down upon them then. “Arch-Sorcery; Sage Level; Elemental Catastrophe!”
And as Erik spread his wings to hover, as he widened his maw and breathed out pure darkness.
The mixture of elements surged upward, meeting his black blaze.
The combination of lights clashed with the darkness, the very air shuddering as if in horror by the collision of these two opposing energies.
As from below, it seemed to all as if a sun was being formed anew.
Whilst above, as if the darkness and eternity of space beyond was trying to snuff it out.
The very sound of this battle was not unlike the rumbling of thunder, growling, roaring right into each and everyone’s ears.
Filling the expressions of all with both astonishment and dread.
As the beam of lights suddenly began to grow thinner, then being overtaken by the befalling darkness, as it engulfed the Elven heroes just as well.
And everyone else around them.
Alarm filled each heart then, until a beam of pure white light pierced through the black.
Several dozen times thinner than before, yet brighter than ever, it blasted a hole right through Erikathyr’s attack…
And Erikathyr’s body, as the Dragon bellowed with pain.
As the blackness beneath him dissipated, he plummeted.
The Dragon fell back down to the ground with a crash, rocking the ground beneath one and all.
Now filling them all with hope, as Erikathyr struggled to stand up.
Wings laying sprawled upon the ground around him, as it was splattered with the charred corpses of thousands.
“Now’s our chance men!” A Dwarven Lord announced, as machines of dwarven make rumbled forth.
“Give up not!” Exclaimed a voice from the Elves, “For our fallen! For their sacrifice! Let not this moment be lost! For New Druv! Blot out the sun!”
As a bellow grew also amongst the remaining Zrosians, thousands of roars joining into a great war cry.
As each of the three armies now converged onto the fallen Dragon.
Elven arrows filling the sky above, enhanced with deadly magic they rained upon Erikathyr.
Dwarven eruptions blasting forth from the side, as their cannons and worse sent forth a barrage of mithril.
Enraged but not disheartened by their fallen Empress, the Zrosians charged.
Like an army of frenzied beasts, as the Elven rain and Dwarven barrage came to a pause.
Erikathyr was surrounded, scaled like a hill and suddenly covered in hungering half-beasts, tearing away at his body slash by slash, bash by bash, stab by stab. Hundreds of weapons, feeling like needles, they filled his weary body.
As he growled, “Remember, my name. Remember, this day…” Erik exclaimed, as he steadied himself.
“Remember, my wrath!” Erikathyr roared out, as black sparks of lightning suddenly surged through his entire form.
Disintegrating all flesh and bone within a fifty-meter radius, the lightning crackled along his tail before surging up his back and into his now opening maw.
“Let me fill, your history books, with my immortal myth!” He exclaimed, as a beam of black crackling energy burst out from between his jaws, as he moved his head from left to right.
Running the continuous surge of lightning across the Dwarven lines, causing absolute havoc amongst them.
Thousands more, now lying dead.
As Erikathyr’s searing breath dissipated, still the Dragon stood tall, a terrifying sight to behold surrounded by what could only be depicted as cataclysmic.
Erikathyr stood tall, a mighty member of the greatest of beasts, a one-being-army.
Until, his entire body suddenly fell numb.
Agony, unlike anything he had ever felt before, it plagued his heart.
(“Hah…my time has run out.”) He thought.
Unable to breath, unable to speak.
(“This power…it takes ove-“)
Unable to move, Erikathyr collapsed to the ground.
His body shivered and twitched, as his eyes rolled back.
“Indeed, finally.” As a hellish voice then filled the battlefield, Brazath appeared, standing amongst the destruction.
Wingless, still the devil prince smiled widely. “Even you, cannot escape the inevitable!” He exclaimed in a maddened tone, eyes bulging wide open as he cackled wickedly.
As a dark aura formed all over Erikathyr’s fallen form, tendrils of black and violet too, like wisps of a strange energy.
“For when the Ancient wakes,” Brazath quoted.
Unlike any darkness, unlike even the miasma of hell, something else entirely oozed out of him.
“For when the blood boils!” Brazath mused, as Erikathyr’s body suddenly pulsed with move
ment, seemingly growing into twice its previous size. “Monsters beware!” He exclaimed with great excitement, as once more Erikathyr’s body rose to its feet.
And once more reality seemed to pulse around it, once more it doubled in size.
Changing for the ultimate time.
As his horns now grew out like a forest of bone, whilst the tail grew thicker, yet also shorter.
The blackness of his scales, joined by a pulsating violet, a bright murky light flowing out from in between each plate.
As his wings, grew not with each sudden growth, and instead crumbled to dust, being no more.
A mountain in his own right, Erikathyr stood far above the clouds now.
His eyes though, showed no semblance of sentience, no Erik within.
Only a feral hunger, a primal ferocity, as its every movement formed a rumbling sound.
As it glanced down upon Brazath, who wholeheartedly laughed.
“The end…” He said with glee.
And the Elder Dragon growled.
“Is nigh and here! Hahahaha!”
And the entire world shook.
B2; Chaos - Ch 60; Pieces - Part 3; Come Together
The ground and air quaked,
Its very presence making reality shake,
Its growl, an explosion of power, as the army was forced to their knees.
A pressure filled the grasslands, as if gravity itself had turned against them.
Nobody could stand before this monstrosity, nobody but Brazath, and even he struggled to remain straight.
Even his expression struggled, twitching in between awe and laughter.
“Cometh be, ancient beast!” He called out, “Destroy this world, with me! Remake it with me! Let us reshape this reality into our liking!” He cackled, wickedly so Brazath cackled.
But the Primal being ignored him, merely an ant in its presence the Elder Dragon’s gaze turned elsewhere.
It glanced at the struggling armada around it, then beyond.
It glanced at the land beyond, at those moving its way, and those moving away.
Its eyes, narrowing, as it not only sensed but saw the spirits of this land.
Spirits of which there were only two colours, as they filled the bloody battlefield.
Spheres of red and black riddled its surroundings, shining a dim light as they floated up to surround it.
The Elder Dragon felt the land’s pain, it felt it’s sorrow.
And in return, it roared.
A sound so raw in strength, a sound so infused with magic itself.
It broke the spell of cowering upon the army, but in its stead infusing them with a horrific terror.
As each stood up and turned tail, every man and woman for themselves, the armies ran before this apocalyptic being.
As even Brazath was now brought to his knees, holding his own ears shut tight as he resisted the temptation to flee.
A primal fear being brought up from within all, at the very sound of this beast’s roar.
Ceasing then, now the Elder finally turned to the Devil Prince.
Eyes many times larger than Brazath himself, those violet slits focused upon him. Slits surrounded with intricate lines of black and red, forming designs akin to runes and magic circles, Brazath knew exactly what he was glimpsing into.
“For all your lives, you’re lied to, you lie to yourselves.” The Prince mused, as he stood back up. “Of the Spirits of the land, who you supposedly guard, Of some mighty eternal being who you protect!” He chuckled, “When in truth, these Spirits are mindless, souls long given up on existence. When in truth, you are far more than just guardians.”
Brazath opened his hands wide, “But you understand now, don’t you? Erikathyr? You feel it don’t you? The unlimited power at your very call? The primal surge of energy which can both destroy…and form worlds! You, a Primal Elemental is what you’ve become! What your people call the fall to chaos!”
The Elder Dragon merely growled back, baring its massive fangs at what it regarded as nothing more than a very loud insect.
“It is far too bad, that your mind is numbed, so much power within a being so bestial…So primal.” Brazath mused, as miasma then surged out of his hands.
As a rift opened before him, crackling with dark energy, reality around it seemed to tremble.
Regaining the Primal’s full attention, as it itself sensed the energy within.
“And to you this power I give! Master!” Brazath bellowed in chant, “I present this being as a sacrifice to you! Hell!”
As out of the rift thick tendrils of miasmic energy burst out, hundreds upon hundreds of clawed tentacles surged out and engulfed the Elder Dragon.
Wrapping around him, as more and more continued to flow out of the rift, as the rift itself was torn wider to let them through. As miasmic fog also gushed out, falling to the ground and creating an ocean of hellish energies, slowly beginning to devour the land whole.
Warping the grasslands into a desolate, hellish landscape.
As the beast roared and bellowed, as it fought and struggled.
Black flames and lightning surging out of its very body, dozens of tendrils were shredded or charred to ash each second, but for each one destroyed a hundred more joined in from the rift.
The Elder Dragon was overwhelmed.
As Brazath continued to laugh, maddened in expression and tone, “And finally, with great patience!” He announced as if the world itself was a stage to his grand act.
As he gazed into the Primal’s eyes, as it sunk beneath the ocean of corruption.
“I win.” Brazath mused.
“I wouldn’t be so sure, if I were you, Devil.” Said an amused voice, as Brazath suddenly sensed to beings above him.
Glancing up, he saw them now, albeit they had not a physical form.
Like ghosts, the two Spirit Beasts hovered in the sky, watching the scene.
“Who…” Brazath was about to ask.
But Kalix cut him off, “Don’t matter, you should be looking ahead anyway, something fun is about to happen.” The boy warned.
“This is going to be good,” Kaisley mused, as both of them smiled widely.
As they gazed not at Brazath, and not at the Elder Dragon sinking beneath the power of Hell.
The twins gazed beyond and at Draconia, as the citadel still stood before this mayhem.
As Brazath sensed it now too, a rise of energy from within the citadel’s towers.
As miasmic rings of magic began to form around them, runic inscriptions alit by raw mana, quickly the rings grew to encompass the entire grasslands.
As then slowly, the ring’s crimson colour began to fade into a bright gold with the runes turning into a dim blue.
“What is this!?” Brazath exclaimed, suddenly leaping up into the two twins enraged, yet his fists hit nothing as he reached them.
His entire body simply flowing right through Kalix as they both continued to hover where they stood.
“Hah!” Kalix laughed, as they both continued to gaze at the city.
“We’re phantoms you moron, you can’t touch us and we can’t touch you, we’re still in the Spirit Realm of this world.” Kaisley explained with a sigh, “You have other problems at the moment anyway.” She then mused, gesturing at the mountain of hellish tendrils, as the golden light filling the rings reached them, and began to sear them to ash merely with a touch.
Brazath growled, “Holy magic!? From a miasmic caster!?” Disbelief in his eyes as he gazed straight at the citadel now, “Traitor…AZKEL I SHALL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS!” The prince bellowed in a rage, as he had been slowly descending back to the ground.
His descent suddenly quickened, Brazath crashed into the warped earth, eyes alit with fury and hellish power, he charged forwards.
“Just to spite me!” Brazath grumbled, “I will destroy your very being!” Brazath screamed, as he ran, leaping with each step he took.
The Devil Prince was quickly approaching Draconia’s walls.
When suddenly…
As the ground rose, as the earth suddenly encompassed his body.
A hand of stone formed around Brazath, gripping him tightly and holding him down.
“W-What?!” Brazath was surprised, yet knew what held him, sensing the elemental commanding this magic. “You are unbound! Foolish element! Your master no more, his magic holds you not! Why do you still assist him!?” Brazath exclaimed, as his entire body briefly shone violet, bursting himself out of the stone with sheer strength.
“A servant needs not a signed contract to serve,” Dejal’s voice whispered out of the very land, “And I am proud, to serve greatness itself.” The Greater Elemental said, as Brazath tried to take another step forwards.
Yet to the prince’s dismay, the elements themselves seemed to have turned against him.
As the ground wrapped tightly around his feet.
As a powerful wind began to blow all around him, holding him down.
Brazath pushed through it all, struggling with each next step.
As magma rose from the ground to bubble up and devour him, he did his best to avoid it.
As a storm formed above, raining not yet lightning struck into his path, stopping him now but slowing him down.
As the ground continued to rise and the wind continued to blow.
Sheer frustration filled Brazath as the four beings did their very best to slow him down.
And suddenly, as the magical rings of violet where finally completely turned to blue and gold.
A ringing sound filled the land, a singular chime, ever echoing itself.
It came from nowhere, but everywhere at once.
Encompassing the surrounding area unlike any other sound, simply permeating it as if produced by the air itself.
* * *
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBlaWzMiZYw
* * *
As Azkel’s voice now replaced that chime, as she chanted her spell, as she stood within the castle’s dungeons standing before the beating mound of hellish flesh.