《A Magician's Aloof Tales》


 Chapter 1

    Feathers danced and twirled in the gentle embrace of the spring breeze, each flurry accompanied by the melodious echoes of children''s laughter that filled the air with joy. The sun shone brightly, casting a warm and inviting glow over the vibrant capital. The streets, a lively tapestry of activity, children engaged in spirited play and passerbyers bustling through with their everyday life. A group of kids armed with fluffy pillows swung at each other in a delightful melee, sending a flurry of feathers into the air like whimsical confetti celebrating the joy of youth.


    The heavenly aromas of sweet pastries and freshly baked goods wafted through the streets, teasing the senses and stirring up a hunger deep within. The delightful scent of cinnamon and sugar mingled with the enticing smell of warm, crusty bread, creating a sensory tapestry that beckoned passersby to indulge. This lively atmosphere unfolded in the bustling capital city of Thesian, a diverse and vibrant realm nestled between the territories of Brioak and Liatrey. Brioak, a sprawling region inhabited by humans, boasted considerable size and wealth, its people celebrated for their resourcefulness and creative ingenuity. While they might not be the mightiest in physical strength, the sheer population and versatility of the human race made them a formidable force across the land.


    In contrast, Liatrey, the domain of the graceful elves, was a smaller but no less powerful region, renowned for its profound wisdom and mastery of the arcane arts. The elves of Liatrey have long delved into the intricacies of magic, crafting spells and systems of enchantment that were as captivating as they were complex. Magic was a prevalent resource, accessible to anyone willing to learn; it thrived in the air like a living entity. With the power of words at their disposal, users could channel their will through a stream of mana, crafting spells that materialized from the depths of their desires. With a mere 100 known spells and countless more simmering in the shadows, the possibilities were as infinite as the stars.


    Amidst this lively tapestry of life, a figure walked purposefully down the paved cobblestone streets of Thesian, taking in the breathtaking sights and the vibrant hum of community that surrounded him. Nickolas Granfry was no ordinary man; he was a distinguished scholar of magic, holding the revered title of the most powerful spellcaster alive. With hundreds of years of unwavering dedication to his craft, he had immersed himself in countless studies, experiments, and reflections, refining his magical skills to astonishing levels. As a unique liaison between the regions of Brioak and Liatrey, his presence alone symbolized a bridge of understanding and cooperation. This bond was made even stronger by his daughter¡¯s marriage to Prince Harthron Greaves, the son of Brioak¡¯s human king, intertwining the fates of both realms in a tapestry woven from love and mutual respect.


    As he walked, his thoughts wandered, reflecting on the countless hours he had spent sequestered in his study, steeped in books and scrolls, consumed by his research. His assistant had finally insisted on dragging him away from his relentless academic pursuit. He had spent five days in a fervor of study without break, barely emerging to eat or sleep. Nickolas, embodying the spirit of a resolute scholar, had acquiesced to the exertion of a leisurely walk to clear his foggy mind.


    Standing tall, Nickolas was an older yet striking elf, his stature commanding yet graceful. He was clad in an elaborate gown of deep purple, embellished with exquisite black and gold markings that flowed fluidly, radiating an aura of elegance befitting his status. His long, silvery hair shimmered in the sunlight, a testament to both his heritage and his unyielding vitality. Despite the years that accumulated on his shoulders, his features retained that telltale youthful glow characteristic of the elven race.


    As he walked, the enticing smell of food abruptly captured his attention, causing him to halt in midst of the lively chatter. Aromas of garlic and roasted meat wrapped around him like an embrace, almost causing his knees to buckle under their tantalizing weight. It had been far too long since he¡¯d last savored a meal, and the mouthwatering scent beckoned him with the promise of satisfaction, like a cool drink of water after a long, arid journey through a desert.


    With a resolute sense of purpose, he made his way toward the nearby tavern, determined to satiate his growling stomach. At the entrance, a cheery voice broke through the atmosphere. ¡°Hey Nick, where have you been? Fancy a plate?¡± A middle-aged woman, with a demeanor as warm as her hearty meals, waved cheerfully at him. Donned in a simple yet charming white and blue dress, Mrs. Nita was short and plump, her hazel eyes sparkling with good-natured mischief and gentleness. Standing at the door of the bustling establishment known as the Dragon¡¯s Bowl, she welcomed him with a smile that could brighten the cloudiest day.


    The tavern was a grand establishment, adorned with sturdy wooden beams and quaint clay walls that exuded warmth and comfort. A second story of the tavern served as an inn for those who might indulge too deeply in the tankards of ale on offer. Nita and her husband had spent years cultivating this establishment, transforming it into a beloved hub for patrons of all sizes and races, where laughter mingled freely with the clinking of mugs and the soft strains of music.


    With a smile gracing his features, Nickolas followed Nita into the lively tavern, where the rich tapestry of people from all walks of life blended seamlessly. ¡°Like I could ever say no to your family¡¯s food, Mrs. Nita! How is business?¡± he replied, rubbing his stomach in anticipation.


    He sank into a sturdy wooden chair at a rustic table, nodding to a few familiar faces amidst the crowd¡ªsome patrons recognized him thanks to his fame, while others had shared unique experiences alongside him during various quests and magical exploits. While Nickolas had become accustomed to the usual flow of familiar and unfamiliar faces within the tavern, it struck him that many newcomers had found their way into the city of Thesian, fostering a sense of curiosity in his heart.


    Seating himself, he felt the clamor of the tavern envelop him like a warm embrace. The patrons continued with their merriment¡ªdrinking, laughing, and sharing tales¡ªas he took in the kaleidoscope of humanity and elvenkind around him. Yet, amidst the familiar comfort, he couldn''t help but notice the surge of new faces milling about, each one adding to the vibrant mosaic that symbolized the ever-changing heart of Thesian. Nita caught the glint of curiosity in his eyes as he shifted in his seat.


    ¡°It¡¯s been utterly chaotic since the discovery of that new trade route,¡± Nita said, her voice laced with a mixture of pride and weariness. ¡°The influx of travelers and merchants seems never-ending, and it¡¯s been working my dear husband to the bone just to keep pace with the relentless demands of the business. In fact, I had no choice but to hire some extra hands just to ensure that everything runs as smoothly as it possibly can.¡± She poured a generous amount of rich, deep-red wine into his mug, the aroma of the fermented grapes filling the air with warmth.


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    Nickolas, ever the appreciative patron, wasted no time as the mug was placed in front of him. He took the opportunity to down a generous gulp, savoring the flavor deeply before wiping his mouth. ¡°Ahhh, now that¡¯s truly the nectar of the gods!¡± he declared, a look of contentment washing over his face. Just as he finished, Nita reappeared with today¡¯s culinary highlight. She presented¡ªa veritable feast for the senses¡ªtwo succulent roasted honey-glazed rabbit legs, accompanied by a steaming bowl of garlic soup. The soup was no ordinary concoction; it was a hearty blend containing tender chunks of roasted pork, crispy fried potatoes, and toasted bread pieces that were almost cascading over the edge of the bowl like a delicious waterfall. Nickolas felt his mouth water in anticipation.


    ¡°Please make sure to thank your husband in advance for this amazing meal,¡± he said with a gleeful lick of his lips, unable to contain his excitement. Without hesitation, he reached for one of the succulent rabbit legs and took a hearty bite, letting out a blissful groan of satisfaction. Nita chuckled softly as she handed him a set of silverware, and he thanked her with a wide grin before diving headfirst into the soup. The broth was still steaming hot that momentary stung traveling down his throat, but that only fueled his ferocity as he continued to devour the soup, as if it were somehow a race against time.


    ¡°Patience! Patience! It¡¯s not going anywhere!¡± Nita cautioned, her voice a mix of amusement and concern as she poured him another round of wine.


    ¡°How¡¯s your daughter? You haven¡¯t brought her around like you used to,¡± she inquired, her gaze shifting to where Nickolas was seated.


    "She was doing great the last time I saw her. You know we have both been busy with our own lives and I try not to be a bother. I''m not sure what she sees in him but you know the young run with their hearts and I am but an old man. I''ll tell you this though.


    ¡°That Prince better treat my little girl right or I''ll have to whack him with my staff! Royalty or not." Nickolas said with mischief in his eyes. Nita chuckled and shook her head.


    ¡°I hope that little one isn¡¯t giving her too much trouble.¡± At the mere mention of a little one, Nickolas''s eyes bulged in surprise, and, without warning, he spat red wine all over, his heart racing with excitement.


    ¡°Little one? Wait, hold on! I¡¯m a grandfather?¡± His excitement bubbled over as he nearly leapt from his seat, gestures animated with disbelief and glee.


    ¡°What have you been living under?¡± Nita teased, laughing heartily. Then, her expression shifted to one of genuine understanding as she placed a hand on her chest. ¡°Oh, but of course! I forgot who I was speaking to! You get so immersed in your research sometimes; I swear you lose track of everything outside your studies. You must remember to make time for your family. Sure, us humans may not have the longevity of elves, but we ought to seize every precious moment in this fleeting existence.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± Nickolas sighed, suddenly feeling the weight of his neglect settle heavily on his shoulders, his gaze drifting downwards.


    He took a moment to reflect on the years that slipped through his fingers.


    ¡°Yes! You have a grandson,¡± she reiterated with enthusiasm. ¡°There were royal announcements, grand festivals, and everything! Did she not tell you or send a letter?¡±


    ¡°She did¡­¡± Nickolas sighed, scratching his head sheepishly. ¡°She sent a letter right after she found out. It was probably months ago, but it¡¯s all blurred in my memory; it feels like it was just a week or two ago. I suppose I must have been too absorbed in my research to notice¡­ again.¡±


    ¡°Now, come on! Don¡¯t let it get you down. It''s not like you can¡¯t still be there for her. You could go see her¡ªthere¡¯s no need for a grand occasion, after all.¡± Nita cast him a comforting smile, her eyes warm with understanding.


    ¡°Thank you, Ni¡ª¡± Nickolas began to respond, but suddenly a look of pain crossed his face. Nita, sensing that something was amiss, looked at him with concern, searching for any signs of distress.


    ¡°Nick! Nick! Talk to me! What¡¯s wrong?¡± she urged, her voice growing frantic as she shook his shoulders slightly. Glancing nervously at the food before returning her gaze to his face, she felt a chill of worry creep up her spine. Suddenly, without warning, Nickolas bolted upright from his seat and dashed outside. Confused and increasingly anxious, Nita followed him at a brisk pace.


    As soon as they burst out the door, Nita¡¯s breath caught in her throat. There stood Nickolas, his face unnaturally pale, staring up at the sky as if he had seen a ghost. The air around them grew thick and oppressive, making it increasingly difficult to breathe. Panic surged within Nita as she scanned the street, her heart sinking as she witnessed others collapsing to the ground, clutching their chests in a desperate battle for air.


    A profound dread settled over her, an unshakeable fear that sent chills racing down her spine. For the first time in her forty-six years, an overwhelming sense of fear enveloped her like a dark shroud.


    Even the animals, usually so composed, were rife with panic. Chickens flapped their wings in fervent frenzy, running in wild circles, feathers flying haphazardly as they sought a place to hide. Horses bucked off their riders, frantically attempting to escape the invisible threat that pervaded the air, galloping away in disarray. Nita¡¯s heart sank further as she witnessed an elven man struggling valiantly to calm his terrified horse with his magic; but when he reached out to touch his steed with his glowing hand, the beast reared back with a violent whinny, smashing its powerful hooves against the man¡¯s face. He crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud, lying there motionless, while the horse galloped off, frothing at the mouth in blind fear.


    The once-bustling marketplace decayed into a scene of chaos as hogs squealed, biting and ramming against the wooden fences confining them. Some turned upon one another in a frenzy of adrenaline, while others sought refuge beneath whatever shelter they could find.


    The overwhelming sensation of dread intensified anew, forcing Nita to drop to her knees, her heart racing, as the atmosphere swirled with chaos around her.


    Nita felt the weight of dread creeping up her spine like an icy finger. It was an overwhelming sensation of terror, foreign and chilling, and she dropped to her knees, struggling to breathe amidst the pandemonium. No horror she had ever encountered in her forty-six years could have prepared her for this disconcerting scene, where the world itself seemed to fragment into chaos before her eyes.


    As she tilted her head back, Nita''s gaze desperately locked onto Nickolas, and with an urgency that suggested the world was about to end, she grasped at the sleeve of his robe like it was a lifeline. The panic clinging to her whispered frantically in her mind, urging her to act, even as his attention remained elsewhere. Finally responding to her frantic plea, Nickolas looked down, his expression shifting rapidly from confusion to alarm. The panic that took over his features was evident; his wide eyes betrayed the weight of the situation they were caught in.


    "Nita!¡± he called out, his voice taking on a rough, strained quality that echoed the immense stress he was clearly under. Without a moment¡¯s hesitation, he knelt beside her, his hand enveloping her in a protective grip as he quickly assessed her condition, his gaze darting toward the frenzied crowd around them. Everyone else seemed to be suffering from the same affliction.


    With a gesture that exuded both command and desperation, he thrust his staff forward. ¡°Saretosi!¡± he called out, his voice cutting through the turmoil like a sharp blade. The moment the incantation left his lips, a brilliant silver light surged forth from the top of his staff, a radiant beam that flickered like a heartbeat. The glow expanded outward, sending pulses of energy cascading through the air, weaving a protective barrier that enveloped not just them but unfurled across the entire city like a silken tapestry.


    Nita, feeling the rush of energy fill her lungs, took a deep, steadying breath, struggling to regain her composure amid the chaos. She could feel her heart still pounding, but the enchantment took effect swiftly, allowing a sense of calm to wash over the crowd. One by one, the people around them began to regain their senses, shaking off the disorientation as the spell''s power enveloped them, restoring clarity to the confusion that had gripped the streets. They exchanged glances amongst themselves, their earlier fright fading into the backdrop like a bad dream chased away by the morning sun. The atmosphere seemed to thrum with newfound hope, the brilliance of Nickolas¡¯ magic casting away the shadows of fear, if only for the moment.

 Chapter 2

    ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure what kind of spell that was, but I sincerely appreciate it. What was that overwhelming pressure I was feeling?¡± Nita inquired, slowly rising to her feet. She paused for a brief moment, brushing off the dirt and debris that clung to her dress, her mind still reeling from the strange sensations that had just washed over her.


    ¡°That was gravity magic at play¡ªthough I must admit, it carried an unsettling, unknown feeling that I¡¯ve never encountered before. I was attempting to process that sensation while we were inside the tavern, but it felt akin to trying to read a tome while submerged beneath a roaring waterfall; the magical pressure was not just strong, it was absolutely maddening. The magical pressure was downright nauseating.¡±


    ¡°Nauseating?¡± Nita echoed, her brow furrowed in confusion as she scrutinized Nickolas¡¯s face, which was contorted with discomfort.


    ¡°Absolutely. Whatever entity or force is conjuring this immense pressure is undeniably powerful beyond measure,¡± he elaborated, The usual confidence that characterized him was noticeably absent; a frown creased his brow, and beads of sweat began to form on his forehead, a sight that sent chills down Nita¡¯s spine. Those who knew Nickolas well were familiar with his calm demeanor and arrogance in the face of challenges¡ªa man who typically reveled in teasing his rivals. But now, he resembled a terrified child awaiting inevitable reprimand from a stern parent.


    Just then, a massive dark grey orc burst through the tavern door, shattering it as effortlessly as if it were made of paper. The sheer force of his entrance sent splinters flying and Nita¡¯s heart racing. ¡°Nita!¡± the orc bellowed, with his gravelly deep voice.His pace was swift and powerful, as he charged towards her, eyes ablaze with concern. He dashed past Nickolas, enveloping Nita in a bear-like embrace.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± he asked, pulling back just enough to scrutinize her closely, his gaze shifting appraisingly across her from head to toe.


    ¡°That strange pressure we just felt¡ªit made me feel nauseous. Did you experience any of that?¡± Bucrok asked, concern coloring his words as he looked up into the woman¡¯s gentle eyes.


    ¡°I was overwhelmed by emotions and worry and stepped out from the kitchen and nearly lost my mind when I saw you gone. Most of the patrons were either passed out or heaving their guts out all over the floor!¡± Bucrok exclaimed, his tone both relieved and slightly distasteful as he remembered the scene. His attention quickly shifted to Nickolas as he released Nita from his grasp, his expression hardening into one of seriousness.


    ¡°Do you have any idea what¡¯s happening here?¡± Bucrok asked, his eyes narrowing, radiating an unmistakable intensity. Nickolas took a moment to scrutinize the towering figure of the orc before him¡ªBucrok¡¯s presence was undeniably formidable. Scars marred his skin, and the remnants of his left ear, bitten off in some past skirmish, only added to his intimidating aura. He wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his well-defined muscles and a dirty apron slung over his knapsack pants, testimony to his dual life as both a warrior and a chef.


    ¡°Something violent and incomprehensibly powerful is ravaging the sky,¡± Nickolas clarified, his tone serious. He pointed dramatically toward the heavens, his staff clutched tightly in his hand. Dark ominous clouds began to stir in the sky that were not present before. The sun was blocked out and it looked like it could storm soon. ¡°I don¡¯t have all the answers, but I can feel immense waves of mana crashing like an ocean up there.¡±


    ¡°Well, what should we do? Is there someone we need to speak with to address this situation?¡± Nita asked, her eyes darting back and forth between Bucrok and Nickolas as the gravity of their predicament began to settle in.


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    Nickolas sighed, his face etched with a mixture of resignation and reluctant determination. ¡°Unfortunately, I¡¯m the one you¡¯re going to have to consult about this. I¡¯d rather avoid it, but I need to ascend and discover what peril is brewing up there.¡± He gripped his staff tightly, the weight of responsibility heavy in his hands.


    ¡°Alerie,¡± Nickolas murmured softly, tapping his staff against his chest, preparing to take off into the unknown. However, before he could leap into action, Bucrok stepped forward, his eyes blazing with determination.


    ¡°Take me with you,¡± he insisted, his tone leaving little room for negotiation as he let go of Nita¡¯s arm.


    ¡°Absolutely not! You are no longer an adventurer. You¡¯re a father and a husband now,¡± Nita interjected passionately, grasping Bucrok¡¯s arm in a desperate plea. The fear of losing him amplified her words.She thought of their daughter growing up without her father and it terrified her.


    ¡°I have no intention of perishing, so ease your worries, my love. I owe Nickolas more than I can express for his countless save-alls on the battlefield. Besides,¡± he added, a warm smile softening his rugged demeanor, ¡°I haven¡¯t met my defeat until I crossed paths with you.¡± Her face turned cherry red with embarrassment as she punched Bucrok in the arm. He let out a hearty laugh and the tension lessened for a moment.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± She said with a pout. Her arms now crossed. Bucrok stopped laughing and leaned over to her inches away from her face.


    ¡°I will make it back to you. You¡¯re my strength and our daughter is my purpose.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right, and let¡¯s ensure it stays that way. Just promise me you won¡¯t act recklessly, and if things get too dangerous, I want you back here immediately," she countered, her voice laced with earnest concern, an unyielding worry etched across her face.


    ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll go tell the patrons the kitchen is closed¡ª¡± But before Bucrok could finish his sentence, a small voice interrupted, stopping him cold.


    ¡°Daddy?¡± a small, tremulous voice interrupted, halting the burly orc in his tracks, causing his heart to lurch. He turned toward the tavern just in time to see a tiny half-orc girl standing next to the shattered door frame, her wide, soft orange eyes shimmering with emotion. Unlike him, she bore no tusks, her small mouth unmarked by the fierce traits often associated with orcs. Dressed in an oversized cooking apron draped over her petite form, the little girl¡¯s face was a blend of innocence colored with worry as tears began to trickle silently down her cheeks. ¡°Please don¡¯t leave!¡± she whimpered, her voice fragile yet filled with desperation. In that moment, Bucrok understood the gravity of the situation¡ªthe tug between duty and the love he bore for his family weighing heavily on his heart.


    ¡°Mommy, I''m scared! Daddy, why did you run out of the kitchen? Why did it hurt to breathe?¡± The terrified little girl''s voice trembled, her questions becoming increasingly muffled and indistinct beneath the relentless waves of her sobs. Nita dashed over, scooping her daughter into her embrace, rocking her gently like a fragile treasure, all the while patting her back in a soothing rhythm. Bucrok, however, stood there, his jaw clenched tighter than a rusty nut on a well-used bolt. Awkwardly he turned his back to his family in helplessness, unable to provide the comfort they so desperately needed at that moment.


    ¡°Hold tight, I¡¯ll be back,¡± Bucrok said with an air of determination. He shot up a fist as he spoke but didn''t turn around to meet his family¡¯s gaze. His daughter happened to stop crying at the moment of hearing her father speak and looked up to see a proud orc with a fist outstretched. It turned her fear and worry into hope as she knew her daddy wouldn¡¯t lie to her. A tear left Nita¡¯s eyes as she watched her husband but she refused to speak. She felt anything else she would say to him to convince him to say otherwise would be fruitless. He gave a quick nod to Nickolas, who returned the gesture.


    ¡°Alerie,¡± Nickolas spoke out as he tapped Bucrok¡¯s broad chest. In an instant, a shimmer of magic enveloped Bucrok, lifting him off his feet and into the ethereal embrace of the sky. Nickolas, with a firm grip under Bucrok¡¯s massive arms, began to rise, a partnered ascent into the unknown.

 Chapter 3

    As Nickolas and bucrok soared higher, ascending a couple hundred feet, an unexpected and crushing weight descended upon them once again. The sensations were starkly different; if the previous assault felt like a waterfall, this felt akin to an entire avalanche crashing down on them.


    Bucrok fought to draw breath, his eyes bulging wide in agony, his muscles rigid, groups of veins resembling angry serpents trying to escape the confines of his skin. Nickolas struggled alongside him; he could hardly lift his head, drowning in a mix of visceral dread and the oppressive force threatening to smother him. His gaze fell downward, and through the dim agony, he caught sight of Nita cradling their frightened daughter on the ground, her expression marred with worry, mirrored by countless others around them who had either collapsed or were kneeling in despair.


    With a surge of determination, Nickolas pointed his staff toward the beleaguered city, bellowing, ¡°Aduima!¡± A shimmering, translucent barrier of yellow blossomed around the city, a guardian¡¯s embrace against the encroaching darkness. Without hesitation, he crafted another spell, raising his staff high above his head. ¡°Sa. re. To. si!¡± he gasped, each syllable a struggle, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. The magical strain on his body surged, fatiguing his mind as the two spells intertwined with fierce energy. He could sense Bucrok''s breathing starting to stabilize, a subtle reminder of the power that still flowed between them. A brief window of relief washed over him as he glanced down to see Nita on the move, picking up her daughter.


    Hope was short-lived, a thunderous bang echoed from above, drawing both Nickolas and Bucrok¡¯s attention skyward with dread.From that dreadful rift emerged a massive, black, scaly egg¡ªan otherworldly monstrosity, oblong and intimidating.The egg hovered ominously, a harbinger of doom that seemed to drag the atmosphere into an abyss of despair before it began its slow descent, accelerating like a meteor destined for destruction.


    Without missing a beat, he thrust his staff downward, yelling, ¡°Aduimadre!¡± As he conjured three additional barriers, each pulsating with different hues, a deep, malevolent voice echoed all around them, sending chills down their spines. ¡°Oh! A challenge, this might be fun!¡± The sound resonated ominously across the expanse, akin to thunder rumbling through the clouds. Nickolas felt his heart race.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t nearly enough,¡± he muttered desperately. With a surge of energy, he raised his staff once more, calling out another spell, ¡°Aduimekrie!¡± Another five barriers erupted into being, making a total of nine layers, shimmering with varying hues of light and energy. The barriers were thick¡ªsome two, others four feet in depth¡ªeach layer a testament to Nickolas''s determination and the mana he expended. He had tested these barriers before against wyverns and monstrous beasts, and he knew how the strength of his magical constructs could shield against overwhelming odds.


    The maniacal laughter from the egg sent tremors of unease through him, echoing deep within his bones. The laughter reverberated through the air like an insidious wind. ¡°That¡¯s better! Make this as fun as possible! Crushing you and your hope makes this all the more delightful!¡± The malevolent voice sneered as the egg continued to descend, gaining speed with a momentum that felt unstoppable.


    With a sickening crack, the egg crashed against the first barrier, breaking through as easily as a stone would pierce a delicate spider¡¯s web. It shattered the next two barriers effortlessly, and with every barrier that succumbed to its power, Nickolas felt a debilitating headache blossom across his mind, an excruciating echo of his waning strength. Bucrok, watching the impending doom unfold, felt the cold grip of anxiety tightening around his heart. He turned to Nickolas, worry etched across his features.


    Summoning all his strength, he grasped the double-headed hammer strapped to his back, his hands tightening around it in a fierce grip. ¡°Throw me!¡± Bucrok roared, lowering himself into a battle-ready stance, fire igniting beneath his skin.


    ¡°Why do you want me to hurl you like a cannonball?¡±¡°Why not just fly over there?¡± Nickolas questioned, incredulous.


    "I might not have a clue how to soar like a pixie over there, but I certainly know what it''s like to be thrown around," Bucrok remarked, the word ''pixie'' escaping his lips with a hint of a groan.


    His resolve was unwavering as he prepared for the confrontation that could mean the difference between their survival and annihilation in the face of cosmic terror.


    "¡°Once we get through this ordeal, I¡¯ll be more than happy to give you some lessons,¡± Nickolas chuckled, his warm laughter echoing in the open air.


    ¡°Save your delusions for someone who cares, old man,¡± Bucrok shot back, a note of playful defiance lacing his voice. ¡°I prefer keeping my feet firmly planted on solid ground.¡± He maintained his stance, grounded in determination.


    With an elegant flourish, Nickolas waved his staff in a rhythmic swaying motion, conjuring an arcane incantation. ¡°Wensigalle!¡± he called out, the syllables practically crackling with energy. Suddenly, a surge of force propelled Bucrok towards the colossal egg with jaw-dropping speed. The abrupt velocity jolted him, leaving him barely able to prepare for the whirlwind that ensued.


    ¡°Arrrrgh!¡± Bucrok shouted, the violent momentum threatening to churn his stomach and unleash his last meal all over himself. Bucrok felt his body start to spin uncontrollably, whipped around like a leaf caught in a tempest. Nickolas, with precise control, ensured that Bucrok would pass through the barriers without harm.


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    At last, Bucrok found himself positioned right in front of the egg, just as it had obliterated the fourth barrier. The staggering momentum of his flight was beginning to wane, and he readied himself for the impending collision. Bracing for impact, he tried to channel the last remnants of his rotation into a strategic rolling strike, hoping to convert his dizzying speed into a powerful blow. The instant his hammer connected with the hard shell, a deafening crack resonated, swiftly morphing into a chaotic symphony of cracks and snaps ringing in the air. Bucrok hung motionless for a moment, suspended before the now fractured egg, clutching his aching hands, which throbbed as if he had just leapt off the rooftop of a towering building and landed awkwardly.


    Nickolas observed Bucrok''s intense power and undeniable performance with a mix of admiration and astonishment. To the colossal egg, Bucrok was little more than a pest, an insignificant ant in comparison to the magnitude of the challenge before him. Yet, against the odds, not only had Bucrok managed to crack the surface of the shell, but he had also halted its descent, leaving the egg precariously balanced on the fifth barrier. A self-satisfied grin spread across Bucrok''s face, visible from hundreds of feet away. Nickolas couldn¡¯t help but wager that, had he been closer, Bucrok would have been bragging about his brilliant strategy.


    Bucrok''s battle hammer lay embedded at the site of the impact, half wedged into the scaly shell of the egg. He winced as he reached for it, a sharp flare of pain shooting through his hands but pushing through the discomfort with a grim determination.


    ¡°Impressive, little mortal,¡± a voice reverberated ominously from within the egg, an echo that seemed to crawl into their very souls. ¡°It has been several millennia since anyone has dared to successfully get in my way. Congratulations, you have annoyed me.¡± The words tumbled into their minds not as sounds, but rather as a telekinetic roar, pulsating through their thoughts and leaving a lingering sense of dread. Bucrok steeled himself, adopting a combat crouch as uncertainty fluttered in his gut¡ªhe was preparing for a threat he couldn¡¯t yet comprehend.


    In the blink of an eye, a colossal, scaly arm erupted violently from the remnants of the shell, swinging down towards Bucrok with terrifying speed. Though he anticipated the attack, he found it nearly impossible to evade it. The dark blur of the appendage engulfed him, sending him crashing downward toward the city like a falling star. Nickolas, now painfully aware of the urgency of the situation, managed to react just in time to manipulate the last four barriers, allowing Bucrok to break through them unscathed. But the moment Bucrok was thrown past the fifth barrier, it shattered under his force, creating a spectacular explosion. When his body made contact with the city a mountain of dust and debris was kicked up obscuring his body from view and left a sizable crater in its wake.


    From the depths of the egg shell, a pair of gleaming amber eyes glared out, radiating an unsettling presence. A crackle of telepathic energy pierced through Nickolas¡¯ very being, igniting horror that coursed through his veins.


    Reacting quickly, Nickolas delved into the depths of his robe, fingers brushing past enchanted trinkets until they clutched a small glass vial filled with a shimmering blue liquid. The golden eyes of the monstrous entity zeroed in on him but made no move as the mage raised the vial in a toast to fate, gulping down the contents as if it were the elixir of life itself.


    With the egg once again halting atop the sixth barrier, the creature''s menacing words sliced through the tension like a blade.


    ¡°I grow weary of waiting for you to amuse me, mortal. Do something entertaining, or I assure you, death is on the horizon.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got something truly fascinating in store for you,¡± Nickolas replied, taking a deep breath to center himself. His mana replenished and a new surge of energy coursed through him.


    With both hands firmly gripping the intricately carved staff, Nickolas stood resolute before him, his focus locked on the ominous, dark crevice in the shell of the mysterious egg. The gaping hole was a void of incomprehensible blackness, so deep and consuming that it seemed to absorb all light around it. The only thing that pierced the shroud of darkness were the piercing, malevolent eyes that glinted back at him, filled with an unsettling intelligence that sent a chill racing down his spine. Nickolas couldn¡¯t quite articulate the sensation washing over him, but he was convinced that this otherworldly presence within the egg was mocking him, a sinister smirk tugging at the edges of its consciousness as it regarded him from its shadowy confines.


    Swallowing down a gulp of trepidation, Nickolas squeezed his eyes shut, shutting out the unsettling sight of that accursed gaze. Instead, he turned his focus inward, where magic swirled like a tempest waiting to be unleashed. As he concentrated, a blanket of shimmering silver fog began to envelop him, weaving around him like a protective shroud. Within that fog, intricate clusters of ice crystals dancing in frenzied symmetry, swirling around him with a mesmerizing intensity.


    The sounds of crunching ice filled the air, a symphony of hard, crystalline notes as the frost began to bloom and compress like a divine orchestration of nature¡¯s cold fury. Each sharp crack of ice resonated like applause for the grand performance about to unfold. With each pulse, the ice coalesced into a sharp lance, an icy spear growing larger and more formidable with every second, until it reached an imposing size akin to that of a quaint cottage.


    Nickolas inhaled deeply, the frigid air filling his lungs, bracing himself against the biting cold that sent shivers down his spine. He could feel the weight of the moment bearing down upon him, and with a roar that echoed through the chamber, he bellowed, ¡°Frolizium!¡± The word reverberated loudly, laced with power, as the immense ice lance broke free from his grasp, spiraling away from him with breathtaking speed and lethal intent.


    The frosty projectile whirled through the air like a comet, gathering momentum as it zeroed in on the target. It crashed into the dark hole of the egg with a resounding thud that resonated like thunder, shattering the stillness of the moment and sending shards of icy debris scattering into the air like a dazzling show.The resounding thump of impact reverberated through the air, followed by an explosive burst of frost that enveloped the surrounding area, creating a storm of glistening ice particles that twinkled like stars in the aftermath of the magical onslaught. Nickolas floated there in silence, hoping to have made some type of progress against this world ending creature.

 Chapter 4

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    Several minutes earlier.


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    Down on the ground, away from the conflict, mass hysteria has broken loose in the city. An enormous egg shaped object emerged from the sky and is falling down. Frightening noises and weird magic are causing people to convulse on the floor and animals to lose their minds. Some parts of the city reverted to robbing and stealing looking to set themselves up with a head start after moving. The city guards were onced ordered to guard the gates and stop the people from leaving. At the gates, violence quickly took over the peaceful citizens of Thesian. They started off waiting for the guards to pass out writs of leave. These documents would gather information on who was leaving, their property, social standing, land, etc. This started off well but after the last fear causing magic attack people no longer wanted to wait and started fighting to get out. No one was safe from the frenzy, not even the guards. Casualties stacked high even before the object dropped from the sky.


    In a dark alley, a man started to rouse from his stupor from off the ground. His clothing, once charming with elegant threads of white, red and green, is now a mess to behold. Mud stains ruined his clothing and mood. After getting to his feet, he looked down onto his clothes with disgust and anger. His cloak was now dirty and tattered. He went to check his pocket for his handkerchief but found it missing along with his money pouch. Panic struck him at once and he looked around on the ground while still checking his pockets. Luckily, he never walked around with all his money, but what was in there could keep a commoner living comfortably for a year. The man continued to look around before giving up and cursing to himself. The last thing he remembers was something exploding in front of him causing him to black out.


    ¡°Where the fuck am I.¡± He said as he looked around still hoping to catch a glance of where his money went. His talons tapped the brick road with a clacking noise as he thought to himself. He looked up in the sky and cursed as he saw the object a lot closer than it was before. It seemed like it was several hundred feet from the ground and there were translucent layers keeping it in place. It had smashed through a lot of the magical layers already and had a few left before it would be unhindered. There was what seemed to be a man in the sky with the object. Some of the other city folks said it was the regional guardian wizard. Nickolas Granfry was Known as the strongest wizard alive and he was up in the sky alone trying to prevent a catastrophe.


    ¡°I hope he is as strong as the rumors make him out to be, ¡± he said to himself. The shear size of the egg object could easily destroy one third of the city just coming down. The amount of damage so far prevented from Nickolas was untold at this point the city and even more might have been wiped away. The man didn¡¯t care if Nickolas won or not. He just wanted him to keep that egg at bay till he was gone.


    Jaquawe jumped up and shed the green and white cloak he was wearing. Blue feather wings with white tips spread appeared from his back and he took flight. His wings were a separate appendix to his arms allowing his hands to be free. He was an Alofrian, which was a race of bird folk that mostly lived up north, up in the Gymiekah mountains. That mountain range belongs mostly to dwarfs and Alofrian. Jaquawe was tall and slender and had rough skin made of tough keratin.


    He took a moment to study his surroundings.  A couple streets over was a huge explosion site that seems like the cause for Jaquawe¡¯s black out. There was what looked like a person in the hole but he wasn''t completely sure. He also wasn¡¯t sure how the man came to be there or create that much destruction. Jaquawe decided to check it out after he grabbed his wife. Every second counted and he didn¡¯t have time at the moment to be nosy. She was unable to escape and he was her only hope.


    Jaquawe desperately endeavored to keep his extraordinary ability to fly under wraps. The manifestation of death loomed in the skies above, maintaining secrecy about his unique racial traits became a secondary concern; survival was far more critical than discretion. Being part of a bird folk race often made him coveted by the wealthy elite as exotic pets. Jaquawe often faced the ever-present danger of being captured. Demi human variants such as his made people not fully view his race as equals. With no legal protections in place for beings like him, he had learned the importance of masking his true identity.


    As he soared through the air, scanning the expanse of the city beneath him for his hidden safe haven, Jaquawe darted about with urgency and precision. After what seemed like mere moments, he spotted his sanctuary¡ªnot because it was near, but due to his remarkable flying speed, which allowed him to traverse the entire city in barely a minute if he truly wished to. Yet, even with the chaos unfolding around him, he refrained from such reckless haste; drawing unnecessary attention to himself was a risk he could not afford.


    As soon as his feet hit the ground, he sprang into a sprint, his heart racing like a wild drum in his chest. He saw townsfolk swarm past him in a chaotic blur, their faces etched with fear and urgency. The crowd jostled him relentlessly as he fought to reach the elusive latch that secured the entrance to his hidden refuge. In the chaos, he was knocked to the ground, feeling the weight of bodies pressing down on him. Desperate, Jaquawe struggled to rise, instinctively brandishing his dagger to ward off those around him. Blood trickled from his mouth, pain radiating through his battered body. His wings were smudged with dirt, evidence of the footsteps that had trampled over him¡ªsome, he suspected, with intent. With a cautious backward step toward the alleyway, he kept his dagger raised, ready to defend himself against the swirling mass around him. However, a wave of horror washed over him when he arrived at the spot only to find a massive chunk of rubble as big as a wagon blocking his way. Jaquawe stood frozen, paralyzed by a wave of hopelessness that threatened to consume him.


    But then, a flicker of inspiration ignited in his mind. Just before flying in search of his hideout, he had spotted a sturdy man¡ªthe figure had been caught in the devastating crater that marred the ground. Jaquawe struggled to recall details about him, but he distinctly remembered the man¡¯s muscular frame, which exuded strength and resilience. Perhaps this unfamiliar ally could aid him. He shook off the despair that gripped him, compelling himself to seek this man''s help¡ªit was imperative now that he ascertain whether he was even alive.


    With determined resolve, Jaquawe took to the skies once more, scanning the chaotic landscape beneath him as he searched for the merchant district. After what felt like an eternity, he finally located it, and his heart raced with hope as he began to scan the scene below. He was in luck¡ªthe quick flash of color caught his eye. A cart, laden with an assortment of half-broken bottles housing a kaleidoscope of vibrant potions, stood abandoned among the fray. Although he did not possess extensive knowledge about potions, he understood instinctively that any kind of medicinal aid could prove invaluable.


    His heart sank briefly upon noticing the cart¡¯s owner, who lay motionless a few paces away, a heavy stone resting mercilessly upon his face. With the shock of the situation fueling his adrenaline, Jaquawe ripped the cloth that served as a makeshift awning for the cart, fashioning it into a knapsack. He hurriedly gathered as many bottles as he could, his mind focused solely on the potential life-saving contents. Then, like a bolt of lightning, he shot back into the air, zooming towards the crater where he hoped to find the orc still lingering in the shadows of unconsciousness.


    As he descended into the wreckage of the crater, relief washed over him when he spotted the orc, still alive but wounded and barely stirring. Jaquawe¡¯s heart swelled with a mixture of fear and hope as he approached. The orc lay there, gasping for air, his body a terrifying patchwork of injuries¡ªmangled limbs, a tusk broken clean off, and an arm bent at an unnatural angle. Sitting there, it was apparent that survival would take every ounce of strength this man possessed.


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    Setting his precious knapsack down, Jaquawe rifled through the collected bottles, grateful to find them labeled. He seized a couple that appeared promising and, without waiting for permission, tried to force the burly orc to consume their contents. The orc gagged and sputtered at first, yet Jaquawe was steadfast, ensuring not a single drop went to waste. After several agonizing moments during which the orc fought against the intrusion, his eyes snapped open, locking onto Jaquawe¡¯s.


    With incredible force, the orc shot out his arm and sent Jaquawe reeling backwards. The display of strength was astonishing, particularly given his numerous injuries. Jaquawe marveled at how, even with a broken body, the orc managed to exude power that could easily overwhelm him. Slowly, the orc began to rise, grunting in pain as he forcibly repositioned his limbs while letting out a guttural yell that resonated like a war cry¡ªa call to rally against defeat, fueling his recovery.


    What was most remarkable was how fast Jaquawe recognized that the potions took effect.


    ¡°Who are you birdman?¡± Bucrok questioned the man before him. His guard was up even though he did owe the man for saving him. Jaquawe took a step towards the orc and stuck out his hand.


    ¡°My name is Jaquawe Bloom and I need your help. I am sorry for the rude awakening but it was urgent.¡±


    ¡°How long was I out?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know how long for sure but if it was relative to the falling calamity above us then not long.¡± Bucrok stared at the hand and grunted with a nod.


    ¡°Bucrok.¡±


    ¡°Bucrok?¡± Jaquawe awkwardly retracted his hand and stood there examining the orc. He looked mostly healed and was currently looking around. Jaquawe guessed he was trying to see where he had landed.


    ¡°My name is Bucrok.¡±


    ¡°Right. Right. So about helping me-¡± Jaquawe started to ask before looking confused at Bucrok. Bucrok wore a twisted face and his muscles tensed up. He stayed like that for a couple seconds before letting go of a big breath. He did it again and tried jumping but nothing was happening for him.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Jaquawe asked, wondering if there was something wrong with the orc¡¯s head.


    ¡°Trying to fly.¡± Bucrok casually said while a determined look was plastered on his face.


    ¡°Orc¡¯s can¡¯t fly.¡± Jaquawe said beginning to question if he was wasting his time trying to ascertain help from this particular orc.


    ¡°There was a spell on me to fly. I need to get back up there and fight.¡± Bucrok said looking at Jaquawe like he was an idiot. Jaquawe looked up and saw the lone magician and put the pieces together. Sensing the desperation of time, Jaquawe dropped to his knees and Bucrok looked at him with alarm.¡±


    ¡°Look, I could really use your help. I¡¯m desperate. My wife can¡¯t save herself and if I don¡¯t do something she will die. I can¡¯t lose her. It will only take a minute of your time. Surely you have someone in your life you love dearly. ¡±Jaquawe pleaded from the ground.


    The sense of duty vs the empathy of the heart balanced in Bucroks mind. He knew all too well how Jaquawe was feeling but he also knew he had a mission to accomplish.


    ¡°Ghaah. Fine as long as it¡¯s quick." Bucrok relented, taking in a deep breath.


    Jaquawe shot up with glee and hugged the mountain of muscles. Bucrok struggled for a moment to gain his freedom from the weird bird person. Jaquawe sprung in the air after being thrown off and did an aerial loop before diving and picking up Bucrok.


    Grabbing him underneath the arms, he lifted him off the ground and began a laborious ascent towards his hideout. The flight was arduous, considerably slower than before, but it was still more efficient than any desperate sprint through the debris-strewn streets below.


    Upon reaching his destination, Jaquawe gently placed the orc down on the ground to examine the rubble that obstructed the latch. Citizens pushed and shoved trying to get through, but against Bucrok it was like a boulder in the water. Jaquawe stood behind Bucrok as he effortlessly shielded him from the hoards of people trying to escape the city. Bucrok walked through the crowd over to the alleyway blocked of with a massive piece of rubble.  With a gleam of determination flashing across his face, Bucrok grinned, exuding an invigorating energy. In a show of raw, unyielding strength, he swung his massive fist with explosive power, shattering the boulder blocking their way into a cascade of fragments. The sight filled Jaquawe with awe and renewed hope.


    The towering figure of the orc known as Bucrok effortlessly hurled massive chunks of stone aside, tossing them left and right with an ease that resembled the casual act of tossing laundry onto a line. Jaquawe, standing nearby, was left utterly astonished by the sheer display of strength that Bucrok was showcasing; it was an extraordinary testament to the orc''s might. Suddenly, a deafening boom reverberated from above, startling Jaquawe and causing a cascade of snowflakes to slowly drift down upon the city below. It was an unexpected sight, for winter had officially come to an end, and yet here was this bizarre, almost dreamlike snowfall that fell as freely as rain on a warm summer¡¯s day.


    Jaquawe instinctively looked up, his eyes widening in disbelief as he observed a brilliant explosion of silver snow tumbling down from the heavens¡ªa phenomenon that seemed almost magical in its beauty. He quickly shook off the momentary daze and noted the source of this unusual weather. The lone mage suspended in the air above him was most likely the instigator of this enchanting yet bewildering snowfall, conjuring a powerful spell to counteract a giant egg that hung ominously in the skies. Jaquawe felt a momentary thrill at the thought of such raw, arcane power, tempered only by the urgency of the situation.


    Bucrok, who had also shifted his gaze skyward, wore an expression that was a mix of determination and concern. He knew he was meant to be up there alongside the wizard, engaging in the battle against the colossal, mysterious egg that loomed over them. However, much to his dismay, the magic that had once buoyed him in the air seemed to have dissipated, leaving him grounded and unable to fulfill his duty. With a focused effort, Bucrok resumed clearing away the rubble that cluttered the area, his powerful arms swinging with practiced ease.


    Just as Bucrok heaved aside the final piece of debris, Jaquawe seized the opportunity. He sprinted toward the hatch, lifting it with urgency before disappearing swiftly inside. The interior of the small shelter was dim, almost claustrophobic, with shadows dancing in the corners. Jaquawe''s excellent night vision gave him a clear advantage; he had come to know this dimly lit space quite well. The meager furnishings were sparse, the highlight being a humble straw bed pressed against one wall.


    Upon that bed lay his beloved, motionless yet radiating a tranquil beauty, her delicate form wrapped in stillness. The soft flutter of her magnificent red and purple wings was mesmerizing as they rose and fell gently with each breath she took. Her ebony hair framed her face, a stark contrast to her ethereal features, enhancing the delicate doll-like appearance that captivated Jaquawe¡¯s heart. The soft, light purple dress she wore complemented her stunning wings perfectly, wrapping around her like a soft embrace.


    Overwhelmed by a wave of affection, Jaquawe moved closer, almost reverently, as if approaching a hidden treasure. He knelt beside her, the weight of love and longing flooding his heart once more. Gently, he pressed a tender kiss upon her forehead, cherishing the moment as his heart swelled with emotion.


    ¡°I¡¯m back my love. We need to leave.¡± He whispered.


    With care, he gathered her into his arms, holding her softly against his chest, feeling the warmth of her body against him as he stepped back outside to where Bucrok was waiting.


    The orc paused for a moment, taking a moment to study the pair before him; his expression seemed to communicate respect for Jaquawe''s sense of responsibility. He understood the urgency of their situation, and knew they needed to move quickly. Bucrok determined that the best course of action was to safely escort his family out of the city, intending to enlist the help of the birdman. He only wanted the safety of his daughter and wife amid the unfolding chaos. At the rate the battle was going above there was no way to stop that egg¡¯s descent.


    Streams of terrified people were still trying to force their way past Jaquawe and Bucrok, causing them to have to navigate through a relentless wave of bodies, each person vying for escape. The clamor of fear and desperation enveloped around them, creating a palpable tension in the air as they fought against the tide, determined to make it back to the tavern.

 Chapter 5

    Nickolas started to relax his grip on his staff and felt the staff start to disintegrate. He looked at it with a disheartening expression. The wood drifted off into the wind and he felt annoyed that he had to depart with one of his favorite staff. Nickolas had several staffs crafted for him in his inventory compartment. He spent countless nights channeling excess mana into them for rainy days. The amount of mana used in just ten minutes was the cumulative amount of six months of channeling. Any item can be used to hold mana, but some items are better suited to hold vast amounts. If the wrong material is used to store mana, it could end up exploding. Spells can also be cast without an arcane focus but they are significantly weaker.


    He looked down to the crater where Bucrok was thrown to and noticed the orc standing up from the wreckage. ¡° I suppose his thick head saved him,¡± Nickolas said with a chuckle. There also seemed to be a man helping him get up. He seemed to be a demihuman leading him away. Nickolas sighed a breath of relief. He didn¡¯t want him involved anyway because Nita would hate him if something happened. He looked back to the egg and studied the structure. Panic struck Nickolas like a sword in his heart and he immediately cast another spell.


    ¡°Where¡¯s the blood?¡± Nicholas said, his worry building. ¡° A high tier spell like that struck true and there was not even a drop of blood.¡±


    ¡°Lufritry.¡± A small, swirling vortex of silvery-grey energy materialized beside him. This magical phenomenon was a relatively common inventory spell among practitioners of the arcane arts. From within the vortex, he grasped a long, elegantly curved staff, a twisted piece of craftsmanship. It had a few centuries of experience dwelling within the wood. Multiple owners enhanced and added their own charm over the years enhancing its capabilities.


    Nickolas took careful aim at the vast and ominous void that yawned open within the massive egg looming before him. He raised his staff toward the heavens. As he did, the clouds overhead began to roil and churn ominously,  the sky turned like an impending storm. Rumbles echoed through the atmosphere, reverberating ominously, as streaks of dazzling lightning began to paint the sky with jagged brilliance. The thunder that followed roared like a mighty tiger, resonating with an impressive ferocity that sent shivers down the spines of those who witnessed it.


    Nickolas¡¯s eyes then transformed into a brilliant shade of yellow, glowing with an intensity that reflected the raw, untamed power gathering within him. It was a captivating sight, as if the energy of the world itself was concentrated in his very being.


    ¡°Begreura!¡± he bellowed, unleashing an enormous bolt of charged lightning that rocketed forward with ferocious speed. The lightning struck the interior of the shell with a deafening crack, resulting in a spectacular burst of light that illuminated the entire city below. The explosion sent shockwaves through the air, a cacophony of sound and raw energy that seemed to shake the very foundations of reality itself.


    However, just as pride swelled within Nickolas for his astounding display of magical prowess, he was met with laughter echoing through his mind¡ªa chilling sound that seemed to reverberate from the depths of the creature dwelling within the shell. It was an unsettling laughter, as if the being relished this encounter, mocking the efforts of the wizard.


    Undeterred, Nickolas began to twirl his staff gracefully around his body, as if engaging in a mystical dance that stirred the air. With a deep intake of air, he exhaled a torrent of flame, his body radiating heat that surged forth like the sun itself, raising the temperature around him to unbearable levels. The environment sizzled with energy in response to his powerful spellcasting. He swiftly ceased his spinning, pointing the now-charged staff toward the egg with an unwavering resolve. Yet, despite all his efforts, the laughter persisted, an incessant reminder to Nickolas that in this fight he might actually be the underdog. That haunting sound suggested that his attempts to vanquish it might have merely grazed its formidable defenses.


    Nickolas knew in his heart that he was perhaps the only flicker of hope left for the troubled city beneath him, the metropolis of innocent lives and dreams that now faced potential annihilation from the devastating threat of this colossal eggshell. The stakes were impossibly high, and he could not afford to falter.


    He shouted, ¡°Imparium!¡± As a massive fireball erupted from the end of his staff and hurtled into the depths of the egg. The once-red flames transformed into a vibrant azure just before Nickolas let it loose. The sheer force of the explosion within the shell sent ripples of energy across the land, but to his bewilderment, the creature persisted in its obnoxious laughter, as if dismissing the catastrophic impact with scorn. The cunning monster seemed to absorb the spell''s potency without a scratch, rendering Nickolas''s explosive onslaught nothing more than a mere inconvenience. With the fire spreading within the shell, Nickolas was finally able to witness the horror that has been plaguing him and this city. It was a black dragon with scales that shone like the night sky. But there was something weird about the creature as it seemed almost translucent.


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    The creature within the fiery depths raised its massive tail, swinging it with formidable force through the air. It sent a hailstorm of smoldering debris tumbling all around, pieces of shell, and blazing fragments raining down around the city like angry embers. The once-peaceful skyline now buzzed with chaos, as trees ignited one by one, their leaves crackling and blackening against the encroaching inferno. With each fiery burst, a thick smoke began to swirl upward, choking the air and filling the hearts of the inhabitants with dread. A feeling of guilt settled like a cold stone in the wizard Nickolas''s throat, an unwelcome sensation amidst the tumult. The flames twisted and roared, creeping closer and closer, almost as if they sought to construct a prison of fire around the city that he had sworn to protect.


    Standing defiantly upon the sixth magical barrier, the dragon''s massive form towered over the chaos, its talons drumming ominously against the shimmering surface of the magic that held it at bay. A voice resonated within Nickolas¡¯s mind, the dragon mused,


    ¡°Interesting. You truly believe this barrier can hold me? It seems it has managed to stop me for a moment, but sadly for you, I long to feel the ground beneath my feet.¡±


    At that moment, a palpable weight pressed down upon Nickolas, an oppressive force that attacked his senses with relentless intensity. He could feel his body beginning to buckle, despite the spell he had so painstakingly invoked still holding strong. It was the same unsettling sensation that had struck him when the dragon¡¯s egg had first revealed itself to the world¡ªa cosmic intensity that spoke of unfathomable power.


    ¡°Gravity magic!¡± he forced through gritted teeth, the words emerging like stones from his mouth. The dragon responded with a mocking edge,


    ¡°Oh, so you possess a smidge of intelligence? How quaint. Yet, it matters little.¡±


    The weight only intensified, compounding in significance until Nickolas felt as if he were being crushed under the force of an entire mountain. The overwhelming presence of the dragon¡¯s raw power seeped into the air around him. In a mere blink, the sixth barrier shattered like fragile glass beneath the dragon¡¯s sheer force, sending shards of magic flying in all directions. The dragon descended upon the seventh barrier, its laughter echoing through the chaos, a sound both terrifying and proud. The seventh layer exploded upon impact


    ¡°No!¡± Nickolas whispered through gritted teeth as he watched as his painstaking efforts crumbled into nothingness, like a fleeting dream snatched away.


    In a moment of sheer desperation, and an urgent need to protect everything he held dear, Nickolas thrust his staff toward the dragon and uttered,


    ¡°Dorthroc!¡± The command resonated through the air, creating a hum that lingered, slowing the dragon''s descent. For an instant, confusion flickered in the dragon¡¯s cold, calculating eyes, before irritation painted its scaly visage.


    ¡°You attempt to best me at my own game?¡± the dragon sneered, the words dripping with contempt.


    In an instant, the pressure bore down upon Nickolas again, this time doubling in strength. The dragon pressed its assault forward, determined to crush him. As Nickolas strained to withstand the onslaught, beads of sweat trickled down his brow, each droplet heavy with the effort it took to maintain his position. It felt as though he was trying to hold up an entire elephant using nothing but one weary arm. Exhaustion clawed at him¡ªevery cell in his body screamed in protest, yet he knew he had no choice but to persist. Nickolas had only begun to dabble in gravity magic like a calf learning to walk while the dragon exhaled it like it was second nature.


    Digging deep within himself, he sought that flicker of inner strength, focusing on the intricate weave of magic he had constructed. He then merged that with the power of the staff and the two forces merged seamlessly. Almost like a chain of people helping all at once, Nickolas could feel the hidden power resonating from inside the staff. Slowly, he managed to reduce the dragon''s speed once more, forcing it to come to rest upon the eighth barrier. The dragon¡¯s gaze pierced through him like a dagger, fueled by a hatred that sent chills coursing down Nickolas¡¯ spine.


    Then, with ominous intent, the dragon¡¯s mouth glowed with an eerie purple light, baring its fangs in a menacing sneer directed at Nickolas. With a swift motion, it unleashed a beam of violet fire that cut through the air toward him with unrelenting ferocity. Reacting quickly, Nickolas released his gravity spell and conjured a protective barrier just in time.


    ¡°Denizarra!¡± he cried, as a golden shell enveloped him. The beam of fire surged forward, consuming him with a cataclysmic force. Nickolas felt himself propelled backward, as if struck by an invisible giant, hurtling hundreds of feet away. Just at the brink of detonation, he managed to dodge in the nick of time, the blast exploding above him with an ear-piercing roar that echoed through the sky. Fear wrapped around Nickolas¡¯s heart, for he knew that had he been in that place just moments longer, he would surely have met a grisly end.


    The dragon, now resting upon the ninth barrier, swung its gigantic claw down upon the last defense, shattering it effortlessly. Nickolas focused intensely, using the flight spell to will himself forward straight at the dragon. His mana at this point was nearly tapped out. His vision was blurry and exhaustion was setting in. He felt helpless as he flew slowly back to the city he desperately tried to save.

 Chapter 6

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    Several minutes earlier.


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    Down on the ground in the city, Bucrok and Jaquawe could be seen sprinting through the violent streets. Both run like their lives depended on it, narrowly dodging panicked citizens as they navigate a scene that seems to have spiraled into pure mayhem. Jaquawe cradles his wife, still blissfully oblivious to the nightmare unfolding around them, snugly tucked in his arms. Despite the uproar, her peaceful slumber remains undisturbed.


    Fires erupted from buildings casting an ominous glow over the frenzied streets. This once-bustling city is now a battleground, the aftermath of rioting and looting that has swallowed it whole like a monstrous wave. What began as the egg calamity has morphed into an even more horrific threat¡ªan enormous black dragon. This creature was similar to the black dragons of the world but some features and characteristics set it apart. For one, it had long fingers with dreadful talons at the end. Its body was translucent and could be seen through. Its body was also elongated like a snake.


    The beast stood upon the final couple of barriers protecting the city, and its mere presence sent dread through every onlooker. The sheer scale of this dragon is another terrifying prospect; it dwarfs the largest dragons ever documented. It is an embodiment of unknown terror whose origins remain a mystery to all.


    As Bucrok led the frantic charge down the cobblestone street, the chaos around them reached a high. Countless bodies can be seen littering the ground, desperate worshipers pleading to the heavens for mercy as they witness the unravelling of their world. Civil unrest reigns as enraged citizens grapple with one another, each trying to snatch whatever resources they can, while panicked horses gallop wildly through the throngs, adding to the pandemonium.


    A wisp of a man dashed across the road, sweeping past Bucrok in a hurried blur. Draped in oversized garments that hung on his frame like tattered flags, he bore the unmistakable signs of hunger. Grime clung to his skin, mingling with a disgusting scent that spoke of uncleanliness and neglect. His features made him barely worth noticing. It was for just a moment but enough for Bucrok¡¯s street smarts to kick in. Bucrok clenched his fists and unleashed a powerful punch against a man who dared to reach for an item on his person. Chaotic sounds surrounding them¡ª screams, shouts, and the frantic clattering of feet escaping the turmoil. The unfortunate thief was sent crashing backward, colliding with the building''s doorway, his body leaving a gaping hole in its wake.


    Bucrok paused, standing over the crumpled form of the man who had attempted to snatch his belongings. He noticed the faint rise and fall of the man¡¯s chest¡ªand he silently hoped that was enough to signify he would be okay. Bucrok was no stranger to confrontation; he didn''t shy away from a good fight. However, he had a family now and couldn''t be held back on criminal charges for stupid reasons. He loathed the thought of senseless killing because someone upset him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jaquawe approaching, his brows furrowed in worry.


    ¡°This is madness,¡± Jaquawe remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°We should all be helping each other instead of tearing each other apart. Back where I come from, in the Gymiekah mountains, we strive as a community not as individuals.¡±


    ¡°Welcome to the city, my friend. Some things never change. When survival is at stake, kindness is often the first casualty,¡± Bucrok retorted, a grim smile crossing his lips. As Jaquawe moved closer to the fallen man, he gently placed a small vial of potion next to him, a last act of mercy. Jaquawe had fashioned a bag to hold all the potions he found, but the weight had become too burdensome for their trip. After some clever modifications, he had successfully managed to lighten his load, miraculously fashioning a makeshift backpack.


    Bucrok grimaced and let out a deep grunt, his attitude resolute. ¡°Kindness and generosity will get you killed in a place like this. We don¡¯t have time for compassion.¡±


    ¡°But everyone deserves a chance,¡± Jaquawe insisted, his voice firm yet compassionate. ¡°This man has his opportunity now. If he meets his fate, so be it. At least he had a shot.¡±


    With that, Jaquawe caught up with Bucrok, and they both resumed their hurried pace, weaving through the chaotic streets, skillfully avoiding debris and people alike. They navigated around a few more corners, only to find themselves faced with a new dead end. It was an alleyway where a wooden wagon lay abandoned, its contents ransacked. Scattered possessions indicated a desperate struggle, and everything that hadn¡¯t been bolted down had been stripped away by looters. The bodies of two horses lay lifeless in front of the carriage, as did several individuals dressed in exquisite clothing, a grim reminder of the brutality of survival. It looked as if the wagon had been shoved into the alley, trapped during a violent ambush.


    ¡°This is madness,¡± Jaquawe repeated, his brow furrowed. ¡°Just let me carry my wife over this wreck and I¡¯ll be right back for you.¡±


    ¡°Absolutely not,¡± Bucrok replied, unwavering. ¡°We need to keep moving forward.¡± Jaquawe recognized the strength that Bucrok possessed; he could easily maneuver around this obstacle, but it might take longer than necessary. Yet in Bucrok¡¯s mind, accepting help felt like surrendering to weakness. The last time the winged warrior had to carry him had left a bitter taste, and he had no intention of feeling that way again.


    Bucrok dashed toward the dilapidated wagon and unleashed a powerful downwards strike towards the wooden structure making it erupt into splinters. Normally, he would have held back, afraid of hurting innocent bystanders. But with each passing moment as they navigated deeper into the heart of the city, it became increasingly clear that fewer and fewer souls remained. Most had fled to the outskirts, desperately trying to escape the dangers above.


    As the path ahead finally opened up, the distinct silhouette of the Dragon Bowl Tavern materialized against the chaotic backdrop of the surrounding mayhem. The tavern¡¯s iconic sign swayed in the gentle breeze, fluttering like a proud banner amidst the turbulence, as if trying to rally the spirits of those who had sought refuge within its welcoming walls.


    ¡°Finally!¡± he exclaimed, his voice ringing with palpable relief. Energy coursed through him, propelling him forward and leaving Jaquawe struggling to keep pace behind him. Just as Bucrok neared the tavern¡¯s doorway, a sudden chill gripped him. He froze¡ªcaught off guard by an all-too-familiar scent that hung in the air. It was the unmistakable metallic aroma of blood, thick and cloying. Panic seized his heart like an iron vice, and he dashed through the threshold, his mind racing at the horrors that awaited him inside.


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    What lay before him was a harrowing sight¡ªan overwhelming scene of devastation, with bodies strewn across the floor like discarded marionettes after a tragic performance. The tavern was dark, all the lanterns stripped from the walls. Wine bottles that lined the walls were either smashed or stolen. Platters were thrown askew, painting the floor with broken chairs and tables with food. Heavy signs of battle evident due to slashed floors and furniture. Familiar faces greeted him from the mass, some the loyal patrons who had become friends over countless evenings shared in laughter and camaraderie. Everyone else was people he had never seen before. His hands trembled as he turned the lifeless forms, lifting those he didn¡¯t recognize with a scrutinizing gaze. Relief surged through him like a wave when he realized his wife, Nita, and their little girl, Nieesha, were nowhere to be found.


    Just moments later, Jaquawe stepped into the tavern, a look of horror twisting his features as he surveyed the unimaginable bloodshed surrounding them. The air was thick with despair, and the floor was sticky with blood.


    ¡°Nita! Nieesha! Nita!¡± Bucrok¡¯s voice rang out, as he pleaded for his family. Silence cloaked the tavern, only to be broken by faint rustling from beneath one of the upturned tables. His heart raced as he squinted into the shadows, and soon, two small figures emerged from the darkness, huddled together as if they had escaped a nightmare.


    ¡°Nita!¡± he choked out, joy flooding his chest as he spotted his beloved wife, slowly emerging from her hiding place. But it was Nieesha who surged forth like a bolt of lightning, barreling into his arms.


    ¡°Daddy! Don¡¯t leave anymore!¡± she cried, her words a mix of joy and desperation, nearly tackling him as she clung to him with all her might.


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t gone that long,¡± Bucrok said softly, rubbing her head in a soothing gesture, trying to chase away the fear that had taken root in her heart.


    But the weight of their separation was sharper than he had allowed himself to realize. Nita approached him, her eyes swelling with unshed tears.


    ¡°It was long enough for this to break loose,¡± Nita said, gesturing to the room.


    As Nita cautiously made her way closer, the dim light in the darkly tinted room began to reveal more of the orc¡¯s features. The shadows danced around him, but even in the muted glow, she could see the battle-scarred face of Bucrok, and her breath caught in her throat. She gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. ¡°Bucrok! What in the blazes happened to your face?¡±


    Her voice was filled with a mix of concern and shock, as she took in the sight before her.


    ¡°My face?¡± Bucrok responded, his tone a blend of curiosity and confusion as he instinctively lifted a hand, running it over the rough surfaces of his cheeks and brow.


    Nita pointed toward his mouth. ¡°Your tusk is broken!¡± The alarm in her voice heightened with each word. It puzzled her deeply that he seemed rather unfazed.


    ¡°Oh, that.¡± Bucrok chuckled, a deep rumble of amusement echoing softly in the room. His expression bloomed into a grin that made light of the injury.


    From the corner, Nieesha chimed in with an innocent tone, ¡°Yeah, daddy, you look like me now.¡± She playfully rubbed her palm across the front of her mouth where her tusk should be, a gesture that made Nita stifle a giggle despite the tense atmosphere. Bucrok¡¯s laughter boomed around them, and he bent down to scoop Nieesha up into his muscular arms.


    ¡°Yeah, I guess I do,¡± he replied warmly. He tickled her along the sides of her neck, evoking delightful squeals of laughter from his little girl. But then, he straightened up and turned his attention back to Nita, the cheerful moment replaced by seriousness.


    ¡°Anyway,¡± Bucrok continued with a slight sigh, ¡°my tusk? It broke off earlier during the fight.¡±


    ¡°What fight?¡± Nita asked, alarm bells ringing in her mind as she scanned him from head to toe, searching for any other signs of injury. ¡°Is that why you¡¯re back? Where¡¯s Nick?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s still up there fighting,¡± Bucrok replied, his expression growing somber. ¡°Look, it''s a long story, one best shared when I get you both to safety. But, really, Nita, what exactly happened here?¡±


    A heavy silence enveloped the room as Nita fixed her gaze beyond Bucrok, her thoughts drifting to darker memories. ¡°Greed and panic,¡± she murmured, her voice low and distant. Her eyes stared into the void as if remembering the chaos that had unfurled like dark tendrils around them.


    ¡°What do you mean, greed and panic?¡± Bucrok asked, a puzzled frown knitting his brows together.


    ¡°This place has turned into a complete free-for-all!¡± Nita''s voice quivered as she spoke, the horror of the situation spilling from her lips. ¡°All kinds of people stormed in, looking to loot everything they could grab. We were fortunate¡ªsome of our loyal patrons fought fiercely to protect us, but it wasn¡¯t enough to stop the tide. I had to take Nieesha and hide, praying we wouldn¡¯t be found. Those poor souls fought bravely, and this place meant so much to them. They risked their lives for it.¡±


    ¡°Once this is over, we¡¯ll give them a proper burial,¡± Bucrok promised, his gaze scanning the grim room once more, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. A small smile flickered across his face as he reminisced about the last decade, the blood, sweat, and tears he and Nita had poured into turning the tavern into something truly special. To them, it was everything; to others, it seemed to hold a deeper significance than he had ever realized.


    Suddenly, a loud crack of thunder rattled the air, reverberating through the tavern''s splintered walls. Nieesha jumped, instinctively seeking comfort in her father''s strong embrace, and Nita followed suit, finding solace in his arms. Even Bucrok couldn''t suppress a shiver as the sound echoed ominously around them. Jaquawe dashed to the doorway, and looked up into the sky with amazement.


    ¡°It seems your friend just landed a big attack!¡± Jaquawe exclaimed, noting the ominous gathering darkness overhead, with flashes of electricity flickering menacingly across the colossal eggshell.


    ¡°Come on! We¡¯ve wasted too much time. We need to move!¡± he urged, glancing back at Bucrok.


    ¡°I need to pack some things first¡ª¡± Nita insisted, her determination warring with the chaos around them as she tried to pull away from Bucrok¡¯s side. He gently tugged her back, but the tears building in her eyes told him that she was fighting the urge to break down.


    ¡°It¡¯s time to go,¡± he said, maintaining his grip on her arm as he felt her panic rising. She started to flail slightly, desperation fueling her struggle.


    ¡°I have to get our pictures! I need to pack clothes! There¡¯s so much I can¡¯t leave behind¡ª¡± Nita¡¯s voice tinged with desperation as she pleaded for a moment longer.


    ¡°Nita,¡± Bucrok''s tone softened yet remained firm, ¡°Whatever we¡¯ve lost, we can make new. It¡¯s too dangerous here. We have to go!¡± He wrapped his free arm around her, gently urging her away from the scene that had once been their sanctuary. As he began to walk forward, holding both his wife and daughter tightly, his heart ached for the tavern, the only home they had ever known, receding behind them like a fading echo. Nita cast a final glance back at the place that had been so full of life and laughter, now reduced to a hollow shell of sorrow. She would carry this moment with her¡ªa painful memory etched into her soul forever.

 Chapter 7

    Bucrok and his family, accompanied by Jaquawe, forged their way through the eerily empty streets of the city, the air thick with a sense of impending doom.The once-bustling thoroughfare lay desolate, as if life had been drained from it overnight.


    A thunderous explosion suddenly echoed above shaking the city below. A wave of heat descended, reminiscent of a scorching summer day, making sweat trickle down everyone''s backs. Fear swept through the crowd like a swift breeze, especially among those who could see the chaos in the sky. Flames rained down around the city, resembling a scene from an apocalypse described in sacred texts. Thankfully, due to a protective yellow barrier, much of the fire was diverted, preventing even greater devastation.


    A few lingering souls, tired and disheartened, seemed to have surrendered to hopelessness, their eyes vacant, while the frenzied mobs that had once populated the streets were now gone without a trace. Almost everyone was trying to get out of the city not wanting to be there once the dragon arrived. Some city guards could be seen trying to escape among the mobs.


    The Westgate was their target since it was the closest, the beacon of salvation that promised a way out. A challenge they had not anticipated¡ªa wildfire, fierce and unyielding, roared to life. It crackled hungrily, sending fiery tendrils high into the sky, becoming a menacing barrier that barred their exit from the city. The once-fragrant trees lining the outskirts of the Westgate were now ablaze, transformed into torches of despair, and the rapidly increasing crowds complicating their path.


    "What¡¯s going on here? How did the fire escalate so quickly?" Bucrok asked, his commanding voice momentarily piercing the confusion. A few people glanced his way, looks of uncertainty on their faces; it was clear they weren''t expecting the question, and their thoughts were scrambling to comprehend the chaos around them. An elderly man, slightly hunched, approached Bucrok. He looked to be in his seventies and was dressed in plain red and white attire typical of a commoner.


    ¡°The fire rained down without warning,¡± he exclaimed, his voice tinged with a trembling trauma. ¡°It was as if the heavens themselves conspired against us, raining fire down upon us! Before anyone realized what was happening, the flames had surrounded the city. Some onlookers have said the dragon is responsible. I¡¯ve spoken with others¡ªrumors are swirling that the other gates are suffering the same fate.¡±


    ¡°This... this can¡¯t be true!¡± Bucrok spluttered, disbelief painting his features with shock.


    ¡°Indeed, it is all too real. The winds must be spreading this quickly almost like an act of god. Just this morning, I was working in my woodshop, minding my own business, and then¡ªchaos! The city is going mad!¡± The old man gestured to the gathering crowd, where panic and confusion hung in the air like a thick fog. Just then, a large, rotund man clad in opulent blue silk made his entrance into the fray. He strode towards Jaquawe, who was momentarily distracted by Bucrok¡¯s conversation.


    ¡°Hey, you there, Orc!¡± The man said while snapping his fingers. Get your bird and have him fly me over the flames!¡± The man¡¯s voice was gruff, brazenly demanding, his eyes glinting with a mix of desperation and entitlement. He traced his eyes over the woman cradled in Jaquawe¡¯s arms, a smirk of greed creeping onto his face as he added, ¡°Actually, I¡¯d prefer it if she took me instead.¡±


    A surge of anger flared within Jaquawe¡¯s chest, a protective instinct igniting like a fire of its own. He took a deliberate step backward, shielding his wife from the bulky man¡¯s unwelcome presence. ¡°Get away from me! I don¡¯t belong to anyone and she damn well is spoken for!¡± Jaquawe hissed, his voice low and dangerous, shaking with barely contained fury.


    Bucrok, still observing the tense standoff, fell silent, his eyes keenly focused on the unsettling exchange that was rapidly escalating. He looked over to his wife and she met his gaze. Nita then looked down and saw Bucrok¡¯s hand tightly knotted in a ball. She reached over and pulled Nieesha from Bucrok and continued to watch the situation.


    ¡°Well then, if you think you don''t belong to anyone, that works in my favor,¡± the pudgy man replied, his grin wide and full of malice. ¡°In fact, I¡¯ll say your services are now mine. I declare that on this day, I, Demitri Sinclair, have allowed you and that woman to the Sinclair household. You of course won¡¯t be in any position of authority but you should feel honored nonetheless. ¡±


    ¡°Why would I ever work for you?¡± Jaquawe snapped back, gravelly disdain lacing his words. The man merely chuckled, his amusement barely concealed as he cleared his throat. At that moment, four towering, muscular men emerged from the crowd, donning impressive armor that glinted ominously in the fires'' flickering light, their weapons on the ready by their side.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think I was asking,¡± Demitri retorted, glancing back over his shoulder at the imposing figures that flanked him. ¡°Was I asking?¡±


    ¡°No, not a chance in hell,¡± one of the henchmen gruffly chimed in with a chuckle, his voice like gravel.


    ¡°So, you mean to let us die in this city just because you won¡¯t help us escape with those pretty feathers of yours? We¡¯re all just trying to survive here, and it looks like you¡¯re our only ticket out.¡± The crowd around Jaquawe began to murmur restlessly, the atmosphere heavy with discontent and desperation.


    Suddenly, a woman pushed her way to the front, clutching her child close to her heart. She fell to her knees, her voice trembling with desperation as she urged, ¡°Please, please¡ªget my son out of here! I¡¯ll pay whatever you want! I¡¯ll do anything you ask!¡± Her vulnerability, coupled with her selflessness, struck a chord deep within Jaquawe, tugging at his heartstrings. The raw energy of her emotion ignited a flicker of empathy within him.


    As if her plea unleashed a tidal wave of hope, more people began to kneel, each one clamoring for sanctuary, their voices overlapping in a chorus of panic and desperation. Before he could gather his thoughts to respond, the pudgy man¡¯s voice sliced through the rising tide of pleas, dripping with entitlement. ¡°You all need to get in line! He saves me first! I paid already, the going rate is 2 gold a person!¡± He emphasized his claim with a patronizing wave of his hand.


    ¡°Hey, bird brain! Wake that woman up!¡± Demitri said, pointing at Jaquawe''s wife. The pudgy man¡¯s demeanor reeked of arrogance as he maneuvered through the mob, pushing past the desperate faces crowding around Jaquawe.


    Demitri seized a handful of hair from the sleeping woman, and tugged like she was a stubborn dog on a lease. Rage bubbled up within Jaquawe. With a swift kick, he struck the man in the stomach, forcing him to loosen his grip and stumble backward, his eyes wide with shock. That was all the opening Jaquawe needed.  With a powerful leap, his wings unfurled majestically as he took flight, hovering momentarily over the crowd.


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    ¡°You see,¡± the pudgy man crooned, his voice mocking, ¡°this one has the capacity to help, but instead of lending a hand, he flaunts his ability to escape this madness at his leisure.¡± His words resonated through the assembled masses, igniting murmurs of discontent among them.


    ¡°Are you really going to just stand there and let us all perish in this city?¡± Demitri¡¯s henchman voiced out, piercing through the chattering commoners. Suddenly, a projectile whizzed through the air, striking Jaquawe squarely in the face. He felt the warm trickle of blood slide down his cheek.


    ¡°Look I can''t save everyone alone, but if we all work to-¡± Jaquawe started to say before another projectile hit him on the forehead. Another Rock came hurling but this time he dodged to the side this rock aimed at his wife. Before long most of the crowd below were throwing rocks. It seemed like they were taking their frustration out on Jaquawe.  Confusion and disbelief washed over him as he lowered his gaze, scanning the sea of anxious faces for a familiar one¡ªBucrok and his family¡ªbut they were nowhere to be found.


    A wave of sadness washed over Jaquawe, the bitter reality settling in. He had just met the orc; he couldn¡¯t burden Bucrok with a plea for help. No favors were owed, and perhaps he had misjudged the bond they had begun to form. Just when he thought of taking flight and escaping this turmoil, a painful yell pierced through the crowd, followed by the heavy thud of a body collapsing to the ground. Jaquawe looked down just in time to see one of the pudgy man¡¯s henchmen writhing on the floor, agony etched across his face.


    Bucrok was standing next to the man with his powerful fist thrust forward. In a swift motion, he then charged at a second man, who seemed caught off guard, as if the realization that an attack was imminent barely had time to settle in his mind. The henchman, sensing danger but not quite prepared, hastily pulled a small shield up from his side. He braced himself behind the makeshift protection, steeling himself for a counterattack, hoping it would provide enough defense against Bucrok''s onslaught.


    But Bucrok was fast. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, arriving before the man with the shield and spinning like a whirling top. He armed himself with his formidable battle hammer. With a powerful swing fueled by sheer force and intent, he struck the shield with a thunderous crash. The impact was so tremendous that it not only lifted the unsuspecting henchman off the ground but sent him sailing backwards, crashing spectacularly into a nearby wooden guard post that splintered upon impact.


    Bucrok then turned his attention to Jaquawe, who was observing the chaos unfold. With a decisive gesture, he pointed in a different direction. ¡°Go! Fly! I''ll catch up,¡± he exclaimed, steadying himself and slipping into a fierce battle pose. At that moment, Demitri locked eyes with Bucrok. His gaze burned with a hatred so intense it was almost perceivable. But then, in a tone laced with command, he turned to Jaquawe and hissed, ¡°Don''t let those birds escape. The dragon is almost upon us, the city is already damned.¡±


    The crowd, which had initially hesitated, began to stir. One by one, their faces hardened, and their resolve grew as they felt compelled to step forward. Each of them sensed the gravity of the situation, slowly realizing that survival hinged on their collective action.


    In the midst of this turmoil, one of the henchmen attempted to mount a sneak attack from behind Bucrok. With the intention of cleaving the large orc in two, he swung his sword horizontally. But without skipping a beat, Bucrok¡¯s heightened battle senses kicked in. He could feel the malevolent intent radiating behind him, prompting him to spring into the air with remarkable agility, easily dodging the lethal blade.


    Just as he landed, another henchman rushed in to join the fray, swinging his sword with murderous intent, aiming for the orc¡¯s neck with fervor. The air was thick with danger, and the blows rained down upon Bucrok like a relentless storm. Yet the orc remained nimble as ever, swaying and dodging with an almost graceful precision, like a gentle breeze dancing between the aggressive strikes. His years of experience kicked into full motion.


    Meanwhile, Jaquawe was frantically searching for a way to assist but was suddenly interrupted by a barrage of rocks, hurled by the increasingly agitated crowd. From somewhere in the mass, one man bellowed, frustration lacing his words, ¡°Come down and help us!¡± The anger in his voice was intense, echoing the sentiments of those around him. More people joined in, ducking down to gather stones, their frustration amplifying the tension in the air.


    ¡°Every second you waste, a person could have been saved!¡± another woman yelled, hurling yet another rock. ¡°Arrogant bastard!¡± shouted a disembodied voice from the crowd, adding to all the noise. The multitude of voices began to blur together, creating an overwhelming tidal wave of anger and desperation that washed over Jaquawe.


    Demitri couldn¡¯t help but smirk, relishing the sight of Jaquawe being pelted relentlessly by rocks. Feeling the weight of the crowd''s fury bearing down on him, Jaquawe realized he had no choice but to retreat. He turned to fly away, but could still hear the uproar of shouting behind him, the dull thuds of stones impacting the walls. The stampede of frantic feet echoed in the air, chasing after him like a pack of mad dogs, each step a desperate bid for survival.


    Jaquawe raced through the dimly lit streets, heart pounding as he frantically searched for a safe place to hide. The adrenaline coursing through his veins made him acutely aware of every sound and movement around him. He caught a glimpse of Nita. She was standing by a partially crumbled wall, waving her arms with urgency, trying to catch his attention. Jaquawe darted towards her, wings working into overdrive as he quickened his pace.


    Nita had chosen a spot that was almost concealed within the shadows of an abandoned building, its windows shattered and the door hanging off its hinges, but it offered some semblance of refuge. As Jaquawe reached her, he noticed the mob of pursuers was still hot on their trail, a seething mass of faces driven by a primal instinct to hunt him down. Their shouts echoed through the alleyways¡ªwild, chaotic, and utterly terrifying.


    Just when it seemed they were cornered, a deafening sound erupted from above, causing everyone to freeze. Glass shattered like thunder causing silence to envelope everything, and for a fleeting moment, it felt as if time had paused. Then, without warning, the ground beneath them began to tremble violently, an earthquake shaking the very foundations of their world. The horror of the moment intensified as people began to scream; chaos reigned as everyone abandoned the chase to escape the terror.


    Jaquawe stood there, eyes wide and filled with confusion, alongside Nita and her daughter, Nieesha. The sounds around them faded for a heartbeat, and in that eerie stillness, everything came crashing down in a wave of realization. A low, guttural rumble reverberated through their chests, sending a chill down their spines. It was a sound so foreign and heavy that it felt as if it were invading their very minds. Then, they heard it¡ªa deep, resonant voice that was unfamiliar and taunting.


    ¡°Such fragile creatures,¡± it boomed, the condescension weaving a sense of dread into the very air they breathed. Nita¡¯s thoughts spun like a whirlwind; the one thing that terrified her more than the chaos around them was the chilling thought of Nickolas¡ªthe only person she believed could save the city¡ªbeing dead. A wave of overwhelming dread washed over her, stealing her breath and leaving her hyperventilating. She instinctively reached for Nieesha, clutching her daughter tightly, while Jaquawe stood beside her, grappling with a similar sense of hopelessness that tangled around his heart like a vice.


    Just then, Bucrok emerged from the shadows, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and startled both Jaquawe and Nita. The three of them exchanged brief but worried glances filled with unspoken fear.


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry. I¡¯m going to get us out of here,¡± Bucrok declared, his voice steady as he reached out to gently rub his daughter¡¯s hair, a small gesture meant to reassure her amid the chaos. Yet beneath his brave facade, he couldn¡¯t shake the gnawing uncertainty that bubbled beneath the surface. Though he offered those words with conviction, the truth lingered in his mind. He didn¡¯t entirely believe himself.

 Chapter 8

    With a thunderous sound of glass breaking echoing through the air, the colossal dragon descended from the sky, its massive body crashing onto the ground with such force that shockwaves rippled outwards, sending clouds of dust and debris spiraling like a storm around it. The nearby buildings, once sturdy structures of civilization, crumbled under the dragon''s immense weight, their walls shattering with a violent crack, while lives were extinguished as if they were mere candles flickering in a breeze.


    ¡°Such fragile creatures,¡± the dragon mused with a hint of amusement lacing its deep, rumbling voice. It surveyed the chaos with an almost childlike glee, raking its razor-sharp claws across the ground before it, leaving deep gouges in the earth and snuffing out yet more lives with disturbing ease. It flicked its mighty tail, and another building exploded in a cloud of bricks and dust, collapsing like a child''s sandcastle washed away by the tide.


    In that moment, the dragon''s gaze caught sight of a figure lurking in the shadows of the ruined landscape. Not far off, barely concealed behind the rubble of a toppled structure, stood Bucrok, his body tense as he pressed against the wall.


    ¡°You,¡± the dragon sneered, a wicked smile curling its lips. ¡°How are you still alive, I wonder?¡±


    Bucrok, realizing he could no longer hide from such a menacing giant, straightened up and stepped into the open, adopting a battle stance that radiated a mix of bravery and dread. His muscles coiled as he focused intently on the dragon as beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.


    The dragon erupted into a fit of cackling laughter, its eyes scanning the remains of the building Bucrok had sheltered behind, teasingly taunting him. ¡°I wonder what you are hiding over there,¡± it croaked ominously, tilting its massive head upward, its maul glowing with a fierce purple energy that made Bucrok¡¯s heart race with fear.


    ¡°Get out from over there. Dodge!¡± Bucrok bellowed, adrenaline coursed through him, every nerve in his body alight with anticipation. The dragon¡¯s mouth opened wide, and a blinding beam of purple light shot forth, engulfing everything in its path. In that instant, two figures sprang into action, darting from the collapsing ruins just in time. The wicked beam obliterated the building, swiftly followed by a chain reaction that annihilated the next fifty structures, sending tremors rattling through the ground and an ear-splitting explosion ringing in the air. Cries of terror and desperation from onlookers echoed around.


    Among the fleeing figures was Nita, her face etched with panic, clinging tightly to her daughter¡¯s small form as she sprinted. Beside her, Jaquawe held onto his wife securely in his arms, he shot upward into the sky. The dragon snorted disdainfully at Jaquawe¡¯s escape attempt, and in an instant, the Alofrian found his ascent halted.


    Sensing the shift in weight, Jaquawe¡¯s eyes widened in alarm, and he began to flap his powerful wings with frantic urgency. He could only manage to move a few inches before an invisible force snagged him. It was the dragon¡¯s gravity magic that sent him plummeting from the sky. He held onto his wife, bracing for the inevitable impact.


    With a bone-jarring crash, they collided with the ground, the earth trembling beneath the force of their descent. Dust and debris rose in a cloud around them, while the dragon watched, its cruel laughter filling the air once more.


    A sudden flurry of arrows soared through the air, their sharp tips glinting, momentarily capturing the attention of the gigantic dragon that loomed ominously near Bucrok and Jaquawe. The arrows rained down upon the formidable beast, bouncing off its thick, shimmering scales like raindrops hitting a mighty river, leaving only faint impressions behind. With a disdainful flick of its reptilian eyes, the dragon turned, fixing its gaze on the brave but small assemblage of soldiers gathered below¡ªfour distinct groups of warriors, each no more than a hundred strong.


    The expressions on their faces were a kaleidoscope of emotions, a tapestry woven from the threads of fear and fury. Some soldiers were gripped by an icy terror, their knuckles white and strained as they clutched their bows so tightly that it seemed their fingers might draw blood. Others stood resolute, their eyes blazing with an intense hatred, ignited by the sight of their homes being laid to waste by the dragon¡¯s relentless rampage. Buildings that had once bustled with life and laughter were now reduced to mere embers and crumbled stone, and the thought of what had been lost burned fiercely within them.


    At the forefront of this desperate band stood a man clad in weathered grey and yellow armor, a symbol of hope amidst the chaos. His age was evident in the silver strands of his hair, yet there was a remarkable bravery etched into his features that suggested he had faced death countless times before, each encounter forging his resolve like tempered steel. His face, a canvas of determination, bore an expression of fierce defiance, lips pulled tight in an angry grimace as he prepared his troops for the monstrous threat that loomed before him. He appeared to be the squad leader or captain.


    As the dragon snorted, a deep rumble reverberated through the air, it reared its massive head back, revealing a maw that glowed with a sinister purple light, crackling with malicious energy and foreshadowing the devastation that was about to unfold. ¡°Mage¡¯s front line, block!¡± the captain shouted, his voice slicing through the clamor of chaos. He thrust his sword forward in a powerful gesture, rallying his troops to action.


    At his command, a surge of thirty mages surged forth, their robes billowing like storm clouds as they gathered at the front line, eyes shining bright with mystical resolve. They began to chant, their voices weaving together in a rhythmic synergy, creating an aura of power that pulsed in the air around them. The incantations melded into a seamless harmony, each spell stacking upon the last like shingles on a roof, forming an intricate tapestry of magic that shimmered against the fading light.


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    Before long, their combined efforts culminated in a spectacular display as an immense shield materialized before them, stretching a hundred feet long and three feet thick. This shield, a magnificent barrier of arcane energy, flickered and glowed, pulsating with protection as they braced themselves against the inevitable onslaught of the dragon¡¯s wrath. It stood firm and unyielding, a testament to their courage in the face of overwhelming odds¡ªa fragile barrier against a force of nature that hungered for destruction. Hope flickered like a candle in the depths of an encroaching storm.


    The bright beam shot forth with incredible intensity, slicing through the air like a flash of lightning, and crashed against the shimmering magic shield with a force that resembled a tsunami crashing relentlessly against a fragile little house. To everyone''s astonishment, the shield did not shatter immediately upon impact. Instead, it stood resilient, deflecting the blow as though it were a seasoned warrior. The captain''s face broke into a wide grin, a look of satisfaction blooming as he realized that his strategic planning was bearing fruit.


    The shield was ingeniously crafted in an arrow formation, expertly designed to deflect the dragon''s powerful breath attack rather than absorb it head-on.


    "Clever little mortals," it remarked, dripping condescension with each syllable. Its sharp eyes glinted with surprise; it had expected the soldiers to be obliterated by its destructive assault, yet there they stood, resolute, defiant, and unharmed.


    However, the devastation did not end there. As the vicious breath attack rebounded outward, it carved a swath of destruction through the city. Buildings and structures crumbled in both directions along the paths of the deflected force, their walls exploding in chaotic splinters. The destruction stretched beyond the confines of the city walls, dismantling everything in its wake with alarming ease, including the burning tree line.


    Jaquawe struggled to rise, his arms feeling as heavy as lead weights strapped to his limbs. It was an uphill battle, primarily because his muscles were screaming in protest from the sheer exhaustion of carrying his beloved wife to safety. Yet, he was fueled by an undeniable instinct: he had no choice but to keep going. He could not allow himself to succumb to despair, not when so much was at stake.


    The dragon took notice of this and soon ignored the constant arrow that bounced off its scales harmlessly.


    ¡°Do you really wish to fly that bad?¡± The voice of the dragon sneered, dripping with condescension while its massive wings flapped rhythmically, sending ripples of wind cascading around them.


    Jaquawe glared defiantly at the beast. ¡°Yeah, I want to fly¡ªto get away from you! But it seems that¡¯s not enough anymore.¡± Finally managing to summon the strength to stand on his own two feet.


    The dragon turned its head, eyeing the surrounding city engulfed in flames. Smoke billowed upward in dark clouds, and the screams of panicked citizens filled the air. Most were cowering in corners or hiding places, trying to escape the horror that unfolded except¡ªBucrok who had a fierce expression, positioned protectively in front of his woman and child. Jaquawe¡¯s heart filled with admiration for the orc¡¯s bravery, even in the face of such terror. The dragon then turned to the soldiers who felt a wave of terror wash over them, their hearts pounding in their chests as they took in the catastrophic devastation that surrounded them, a stark reminder of the dragon¡¯s overwhelming power. A flicker of despair at the sheer scale of destruction that loomed just a breath away.


    The dragon twisted its head back to Jaquawe, its eyes gleaming with a twisted sense of joy. ¡°No, I think that sounds like a splendid idea. You know what? Why don''t we all fly?¡± The way it articulated those words sent a shiver down Jaquawe¡¯s spine. What was this monstrous creature plotting? Before Jaquawe had a moment to unravel the meaning of the dragon¡¯s taunt, the air around him shifted alarmingly. Suddenly, his burden felt lighter, a peculiar weightlessness overtook him, and before he could register what was happening, he realized he was no longer standing on solid ground¡ªhe was floating several inches above it.


    Panic clawed at his chest as he glanced around, desperate to understand this strange turn of events. To his shock, he saw his sleeping wife suspended in mid-air, alongside Bucrok¡¯s family, all of them levitating just as he was. Confusion darkened Jaquawe¡¯s expression, and he shot a quick look back at the dragon, whose face was twisted into a grin of pure delight, the creature¡¯s sinister laughter echoing around him like a sinister chorus.


    ¡°Let¡¯s all take to the sky!¡± The dragon declared with unrestrained glee, flapping its immense wings once more. A powerful gust of wind erupted from its wings, lifting everyone higher and higher¡ªnot just Jaquawe and those from his immediate circle but seemingly the entire city. As they ascended, Jaquawe¡¯s heart raced with a mix of awe and fear. He glanced up, and dread filled his chest as he spotted a colossal rift in the sky, its ominous colors swirling together in a chaotic dance of distress. His mind raced as he absorbed the nightmarish sight: people, animals¡ªdogs, cats¡ªwere all floating toward the rift that promised nothing but calamity.


    In horror, Jaquawe¡¯s gaze fell downwards, his heart sinking as he recognized the dragon¡¯s purposeful movements. It swooped around the floating chaos like a ruthless predator, plucking people from the crowds below and tossing them playfully towards the rift, all the while laughing maniacally. The ease with which it toyed with lives sent a tremor of panic through Jaquawe.


    Suddenly, the dragon honed in on Bucrok, extending one clawed hand toward him. The stout orc swung his mighty hammer at the dragon in desperate retaliation, but just as the weapon whistled through the air, the dragon stopped in its tracks. A look of confusion washed over Bucrok¡¯s face as he instinctively turned his attention back to the chaos. A terrible scream broke through the fray, and time seemed to slow as he realized Nita and his daughter were no longer ascending¡ªthey were plummeting! The ground below loomed closer with every second, their descent accelerating in horrific silence.


    ¡°No!¡± Bucrok roared, an anguished cry that reverberated in the air, his face a mask of fury and desperation. The dragon hovered in front of him, its eyes narrowed with delight as it reveled in the orc''s turmoil. ¡°Beg for me to save them,¡± it taunted.


    ¡°What?¡± Bucrok stammered, grappling with anger and confusion. ¡°No... I¡­¡±


    ¡°You heard me, mortal,¡± the dragon chirped, its voice dripping with mockery. ¡°Beg for me to save them.¡± Bucrok¡¯s mind raced, the screams of the masses compounded his struggle to focus. Suspended in the air like a helpless infant, he felt his stomach drop as he watched his family hurtle closer to the ground, the distance between them and disaster dwindling. Gritting his teeth, he stared scornfully at the dragon, the weight of his pleas choking him. ¡°Please... spare... my family!¡± Each word extracted a painful toll from his resolve.


    ¡°I''m sorry, mortal. Maybe it¡¯s the years getting to me; I couldn¡¯t hear you. Could you¡­ speak up?¡± The dragon¡¯s tone dripped with condescension, the sinister smile widening. Panic bubbled in Bucrok¡¯s chest as he glanced downward. Nita and Nieesha were still falling, their screams piercing through the chaos, and he felt every ounce of desperation clawing at his insides. ¡°Please, spare my family! Please!¡± Bucrok cried out, a desperate plea that echoed around him.


    ¡°Oh, you can¡¯t say that Yourntihnac, the Hope Devourer, isn¡¯t merciful,¡± the dragon intoned smoothly, feigning a sense of a noble spirit. Just when Bucrok dared to entertain the notion that perhaps, just maybe, the fiend would acquiesce and allow his family to be saved, the last words pierced through his thoughts like an ice dagger. ¡°Hope Devourer?¡± he echoed, the pieces falling into place in a dreadful realization.


    A mocking chuckle erupted from the dragon, and Bucrok turned his gaze downward just in time to see Nita and Nieesha being whisked upward once more, pulled back into the air as if by an unseen force. They soared past him, screams of terror escaping their lips, and despite Bucrok''s frantic attempts to reach out, they vanished into the gaping maw of the rift, their shrieks fading into the abyss. Despair gripped him as he was left suspended in a sea of panicking souls. Burning rage consumed Bucrok, turning him into a whirlwind of fury, practically frothing at the mouth with helpless frustration as he raged against the loss of his family. The landscape around him faded from view, overtaken by the singular focus of his grief.


    "NITA!" ¡°NIEESHA!¡± His voice, raw and filled with unrestrained sorrow, reverberated through the chilling air, a haunting testament to his loss. The dragon, reveling in this emotional torment, watched with malicious glee, as if feasting on Bucrok''s pain.

 Chapter 9

    As Nickolas approached the outskirts of the city, an overwhelming dread gripped his heart. The once vibrant city of Thesian, known for its melting pot of culture and lively streets, now stood as a haunting shadow of its former self. A sense of despair wrapped around him like a thick fog, as he took in the harrowing spectacle before his eyes.


    Buildings that had once welcomed weary travelers and were now reduced to smoldering ruins, their charred remains standing like weary sentinels against the backdrop of an apocalyptic nightmare. Flames licked hungrily at the remnants of civilization, casting ghostly shadows that danced wildly on the ground. Thick, acrid smoke billowed upward, creating a shroud that obscured the sun and painted the sky in ominous shades of orange and gray.


    The air was suffocating, heavy with the scent of burning wood, despair, and flesh. The crackling of fire seemed to harmonize unsettlingly with distant screams, sounds of anguish that pierced through the ominous silence. Nickolas¡¯s heart raced as he saw figures suspended in the air, weightless and disorientated, as if they were caught in the grip of some invisible force. They floated toward a colossal rift that had torn open the very fabric of the sky, a swirling vortex that shimmered ominously like a beckoning abyss.


    But it was the dragon that truly captured Nicholas'' attention. It swooped gracefully through the maelstrom of chaos. It reveled in the pandemonium, weaving effortlessly among the disorganized crowd. The beast ensnared unfortunate souls as they screamed in terror. If it wasn¡¯t devouring them, it tossed them casually into the gaping maw of the rift as if they were nothing more than mere playthings.


    As Nickolas hovered mid-air, his keen eyes scanning the chaotic landscape in front of him, a familiar figure suddenly caught his attention. It was Bucrok. He drifted through the air, filled with a chilling intent, his body trembling with unsettling energy. His gaze was locked onto the enormous rift. Nickolas couldn''t comprehend why Bucrok seemed so engrossed by the ominous tear above when there was a threatening dragon looming directly in front of him, its presence powerful and intimidating.


    The dragon came over to Bucrok and hovered effortlessly in the air with a satisfied smirk that danced across its lips. Nickolas continued his advance, but he felt the weight of fatigue pulling him down. His mana reserves were dwindling, forcing him to glide at a sluggish pace. He could harness the staff''s energy solely for crafting spells, but it couldn¡¯t sustain him physically. Each spell Nickolasconjured demanded he invest a portion of his own mana to blend with the staff''s power. The immense mana he had to expend just to survive the dragon''s devastating attack nearly left him completely drained.


    As Nickolas drew closer, a palpable surge of mana surged in the atmosphere. The dragon''s sharp instincts kicked in; it pivoted its massive head, its gaze narrowing on those who dared to challenge its sovereign presence. Directly behind it, an older man clad in weathered grey and yellow armor that could be seen through the grey sky. His steely demeanor contrasted sharply with the palpable panic rippling through the ranks of soldiers and civilians clad in blue and gold cloaks around him.


    With a voice that resonated like thunder, the man rallied his troops, "We have a sacred duty to our country and our lord. Mages, unleash everything you have on that overgrown lizard!" His words ignited a fire in the hearts of those around him, and the wave of magic began to gather faster in response.


    However, the dragon¡¯s response was one of blatant irritation¡ªa growl, low and rumbling, emanated from deep within its throat, sending shivers down Nickolas¡¯s spine. The cloaked figures burst into action, their movements pulsating with vibrant colors as they summoned arcane energies that crackled and sparked menacingly in the air. The dragon watched them with an air of apathy, as if dismissing them as mere insects at its feet.


    "Fire!" the captain roared, voice rising above the clamor of chanting, as he directed his soldiers like a conductor leading an orchestra into a climactic battle. In tandem, the mages behind him unleashed a blinding torrent of magical projectiles: beams of energy and swirling orbs hurled forth like a tsunami. The air was thick with tension, a maelstrom of colors illuminating the dark sky, each pulse a declaration of defiance against a creature that seemed to defy the very laws of nature.


    He stood as a silent observer, searching for a chink in the dragon¡¯s impenetrable armor, hoping to reveal a hidden vulnerability. Perhaps this overwhelming barrage was their one chance to break through the creature''s defenses. An array of magical strikes rained down upon the beast, each attack relentless and precise¡ªblinding bursts of energy rained like shooting stars, pummeling into the dragon''s scales without mercy. To the uninformed onlookers, the spectacle was nothing short of mesmerizing; the dazzling display of power filled the hearts of even the most steadfast warriors with awe. But for Nickolas, what began as wonder quickly twisted into a spiraling confusion, his eyes widening in horror as a more sinister truth unfolded before him.


    At first glance, the magical onslaught appeared devastating, each potent blast seemingly slamming into the dragon with unyielding strength. Yet, as Nickolas continued to observe, an unfathomable realization dawned on him, chilling him to the core. The creature was not floundering beneath the barrage; instead, it acted as a colossal vortex, methodically siphoning the torrents of magic into itself with an insatiable appetite. Each fiery blast and crackling bolt of energy vanished into the dragon¡¯s depths as if the creature were not just withstanding the attack but feasting off it, drawing strength from the very essence of the mages united against it. The horrifying truth settled into the marrow of Nickolas¡¯s bones with icy clarity: this dragon was feeding on their mana, its scales¡ªonce translucent and barely tinted ¡ªnow deepening into a foreboding black, an ominous harbinger of growing power. With every desperate strike launched at it, the creature grew mightier and more invincible, its form swelling with the energy it consumed. A being composed of pure mana¡ªan unholy fusion of magic and malice.


    Yet, amid the despair that threatened to consume him, a flicker of hope ignited within Nickolas¡¯s heart. He saw the path forward now laid out before him, the intricate puzzle that was waiting to be deciphered. Now with this new phone information and the moment of clarity, he understood how to defeat this monstrous foe. It was a revelation that surged through him, intertwining with the very magic that danced around¡ªif they could not overpower it with brute force, perhaps they could turn its insatiable hunger against it, weaving their magic like a net around this beast of boundless gluttony.


    Just then, as he wrestled with his thoughts, a birdfolk demi-human swooped toward him, bow in hand. Initially startled, Nickolas calmed as he noted the creature''s gentle approach. ¡°I mean no harm. You''re Nickolas Granfry, right?¡± the demi-human called out, halting in mid-air.


    ¡°That would be correct,¡± Nickolas replied, rifling through his memory to place this newcomer. ¡°You were the one who assisted Bucrok, correct?¡± A spark of recognition briefly illuminated the demi-human''s face, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.


    ¡°I am Jaquawe Bloom. It¡¯s a relief to see you safe and sound. Please tell me you have a plan to end this madness.¡±


    Nickolas''s demeanor faded as he pondered their predicament. ¡°I do, but I need a bit of time to gather more mana.¡± Jaquawe¡¯s face lit up with excitement at this news, and he eagerly began digging through his backpack. However, his enthusiasm quickly turned to despair as he opened it; shattered glasses and a murky gray liquid pooled at the bag''s bottom.


    ¡°These were potions and vials, all damaged by the dragon. I didn¡¯t realize it until just now,¡± Jaquawe lamented, his tone heavy with regret. Nickolas glanced at the dismal liquid with sheer revulsion. Reluctantly, he extended his hand and nodded to Jaquawe.


    ¡°Thanks. This could really shift the balance of battle.¡± Jaquawe hesitated to hand over the bag, uncertain about Nickolas¡¯s intentions, which he feared might not bode well. Taking the bag, Nickolas held it aloft and took a cautious sniff, almost gagging at the odor. He pointed to the arrows strapped to Jaquawe¡¯s back, and understanding dawned on him. Jaquawe reached for one arrow, then another, quickly discovering a handful was broken.


    ¡°More unfortunate news, it seems,¡± Jaquawe sighed, disappointment crossing his features. Nickolas, unfazed by the setback, plucked an arrow from Jaquawe¡¯s grip. He jabbed the bottom of the bag, drinking from it despite the awful taste, gagging a couple of times before emptying the contents. Blood trickled from his nose as his eyes turned bloodshot. Concerned, Jaquawe placed a hand on Nickolas''s back. ¡°Are you okay, Nickolas? What¡¯s wrong?¡±


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    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Nickolas insisted, though it was a blatant lie. His head spun, his blood felt like fire coursing through his veins, and mana surged uncontrollably. ¡°It was necessary.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s happening to you?¡± Jaquawe questioned, worry etched on his face.


    ¡°Mana poisoning. Don¡¯t dwell on that. I need you to help Bucrok keep that dragon occupied for a moment. I¡¯ll assist as soon as I can. Think you can manage that?¡± Jaquawe looked at the dragon still being bombarded with spells, a nagging concern in his mind, but he felt it was beyond his grasp. Turning back to Nickolas, he nodded. A gentle smile crossed Nickolas''s face, which was quickly ruined by a cough that brought up blood. Jaquawe instinctively reached out to help, only for Nickolas to wave him off.


    ¡°GO!¡± Nickolas urged, still coughing up blood. Jaquawe hesitated but ultimately took off flying. Nickolas redirected his focus to the mages, who were tirelessly casting spells.


    Nickolas looked up and saw more and more people being sucked into the rift.


    ¡°I need to hurry,¡± he whispered to himself.


    ¡°Silivialla,¡± Nickolas chanted. As he cast the spell, his body shimmered and became invisible.


    Thick, swirling tendrils of smoke began to envelop the mighty dragon as the spells continued to smash against one another. With a powerful, fluid motion, the dragon swept its enormous wings through the haze, dispersing the smoke as easily as one would brush away a pesky fly. At that moment, the beast seemed to swell, increasing in size¡ªits massive frame towering an extra five to ten feet, casting an even more imposing shadow over the gathered mages. The dragon¡¯s teeth, previously sharp and imposing, now appeared grotesquely jagged, glinting like shards of obsidian against the dim light. It now had a fearsome grin that could send chills down even the bravest of spines.


    The very air crackled with an energy that was suffocating, a tangible powerful aura of absorbed mana radiating off the dragon¡¯s scales. The mages, once fierce and resolute, exchanged glances filled with dread, their eyes wide and filled with a sudden realization of their own mortality. Even The captain, usually exuding an air of confidence and power, found himself enveloped by a shroud of despair, pressing down on him like a burdensome mantle. As anxiety consumed him, beads of sweat formed, causing his armor to cling tightly and uncomfortably against his skin.


    ¡°Is that everything you¡¯ve got?¡± the dragon taunted, its voice a deep rumble filled with mocking amusement. Leaning its colossal head closer, it fixed its fierce, penetrating gaze on the group below, eyes burning with a mixture of curiosity and condescension. ¡°Don¡¯t you want to show this overgrown lizard something? Perhaps something interesting, something truly worthy of my time?¡±


    The dragon¡¯s massive jaws parted slightly, allowing the words to tumble forth, each syllable heavy with laughter and disdain, as if it was savoring the fear it instilled. A ripple of uncertainty coursed through the ranks of the mages and soldiers.


    ¡°ARRRGGGHHHH!¡± A piercing scream shattered the silence, startling even the dragon. In the sky behind it stood a forgotten orc, his presence having slipped Nickolas''s mind until that very moment. Yet, as he observed Bucrok ascending higher into the sky, an unsettling feeling crept in. Nickolas was accustomed to the orc''s fierce battles, often fueled by a primal rage. But now, the sheer intensity of Bucrok¡¯s hatred and bloodlust felt overwhelming. The thought gnawed at Nickolas, nearly choking him with dread. ¡°No. Nita¡­ nieesha. Could the dragon¡­¡± He hesitated, unwilling to let the terrible idea fully form in his mind.


    ¡°YOURNTIHNAC! YOU BASTARD!¡± Bucrok growled, his grey skin sparking with crimson energy. Runic markings adorned his body, and a faint red aura enveloped him. The dragon turned its head, an expression of amusement dancing across its features, as it swished its tail with a hint of mockery.


    ¡°You miss your family, huh? Don¡¯t fret; I¡¯m equally clueless about their fate,¡± Yourntihnac taunted cruelly, extending a claw toward Bucrok, whose anger flared even more in reaction. ¡°Let me lend you my strength,¡± whispered a familiar voice in Bucrok¡¯s mind. Though his thoughts were chaotic, a sudden clarity washed over him.


    He could hear a gentle voice within him utter a powerful word: ¡°Tarnokis.¡± As this enigmatic energy enveloped him, he embraced it wholeheartedly, greedily absorbing the force that flooded his body. This wasn¡¯t the first encounter with this sensation, and he instantly recognized the voice. Bucrok felt a surge of strength unlike any he had experienced before. Just as the dragon¡¯s claw was about to pierce his chest, he swung his battle hammer with swiftness. The dragon initially brushed off the attack, but then was startled as his hand was deflected. Yourntihnac found himself dumbfounded; he had never been pushed aside by an attack before, grappling with the shock of such an audacious counter.


    ¡°Irritating pest!¡± it hissed in outrage, the words tinged with anger as it prepared for retaliation. This time, however, Bucrok had learned from their previous encounter; just moments before the dragon¡¯s claw would have smacked him down again, he used his battle hammer to pivot over its massive appendage, flipping effortlessly through the air. Using the dragon''s arm as a platform, Bucrok unleashed a devastating counterattack, igniting the spark of hope in the hearts of those who witnessed this bizarre event.


    The fierce gaze of the dragon bore down on Bucrok, who was filled with an unmistakable, raging fury that sent shivers down the spine of every onlooker. The beast''s glittering scales shimmered ominously in the dim light, and as it prepared to unleash its devastating power, a low, rumbling growl emanated from deep within its chest. With a swift, menacing tilt of its enormous head, the dragon opened its mouth wide, brilliant purple lights swirling within. The intensity of that ethereal glow ramped up, illuminating the darkening skies. Suddenly, it thrust its head skyward and released a searing beam of energy that split the air with a blinding flash. It exploded against the heavens with a cataclysmic force, sending shockwaves rippling through the air. Those close to the rift were tossed in, their presence disappearing without a trace. Those who were further away managed to be blasted further back.


    The deafening roar that followed shook the very air around Bucrok, reverberating with a mixture of anguish and outrage that resonated in his bones. The mighty dragon shook its massive head violently, as though grappling with an unseen agony. Bucrok managed to regain his balance in midair, his keen eyes quickly assessing the scene as a whole. He caught sight of a number of arrows embedded deeply into the dragon¡¯s eye. Searching for the source of the sudden assault, Bucrok''s gaze landed on Jaquawe, who stood resolutely, bow drawn tight.


    Realizing that the dragon was momentarily distracted, Bucrok seized the opportunity. He propelled himself upwards through the, deftly using the floating bodies¡ªboth lifeless and struggling¡ªfor leverage. He somersaulted mid-air, repositioning himself for a downward strike aimed straight at the dragon¡¯s vulnerable underbelly. The impact was solid, causing the mighty creature to double over and emit a guttural growl that echoed like thunder. It was a sound laced with both fury and pain.


    With astonishing might and a primal roar of his own, Bucrok raised his formidable hammer high, delivering a powerful upward strike that caught the dragon off guard. Its colossal head was sent reeling backward. The creature wailed in sheer disbelief, taken aback by this audacious display of defiance. It was a sensation that had never crossed its ancient, mind¡ªthis mere orc daring to challenge its dominance. The dragon glared down at Bucrok and hissed in a voice that dripped with venom, ¡°What the hell kind of creature are you?¡±


    ¡°What am I?¡± Bucrok snarled back, his teeth clenched so tightly that the sound echoed like cracking stone against stone. The rage in his voice swelled as he declared,


    ¡° I AM A FATHER!¡± With that fervent proclamation, he hurled his hammer straight at the dragon¡¯s face, a fierce projectile fueled by the weight of his emotional resolve. The beast recoiled, its massive frame swaying as Bucrok launched himself after the hammer, grasping it mid-air, spinning like a whirlwind as he propelled it once more towards the dragon''s wing.


    As the hammer connected, the dragon began to plummet, its fury turning into alarm. It clawed at the air and snatched Bucrok in its gargantuan grasp. The orc strained against the weight of the monster''s grip, and his primal rage intensified. With all strength summoned, he raised both his arms and smashed his fists down onto the dragon''s claw, a fierce strike that freed him from captivity. In one fluid motion, he propelled himself towards the dragon''s face once more, snatching his hammer as it fell alongside him, instinctively preparing for the next confrontation.


    But the dragon was not finished. It snapped its fearsome maw at Bucrok, frothing at the mouth with rage and desperation. The orc acted swiftly, kicking the dragon''s chin upward with a surge of raw power before launching his hammer again, aiming directly for the dragon¡¯s neck. The impact landed solidly, causing the creature''s face.


    ¡°I AM A HUSBAND!¡± Bucrok screamed as the dragon choked being caught off guard by Bucrok''s relentless assault. Defiance still glinted fiercely in its eyes despite the pain, mixed now with a deep-seated rage that thundered through its mighty form. In a swift motion, it spun its huge body around, aiming to smack Bucrok away with its powerful tail. Sensing the impending danger, Bucrok¡¯s battle instincts flared to life. He spread his arms wide, reducing his falling speed, trying to gain some much-needed distance before the strike could send him sprawling to the ground. Using his hammer to pivot over the attack, he vaulted away with surprising agility.


    The dragon, momentarily believing it had succeeded in dispelling the small threat, attempted to level itself into a flying pose. But Bucrok had other plans. With relentless tenacity, he hurled his hammer once again, this time targeting the dragon¡¯s other wing, causing the beast to stagger once more. It crashed to the ground with an earth-shaking force. Bucrok cried out as he fell after the dragon, ¡°...AND I AM ANGRY!¡± His words echoed like a war cry¡ªhalf lament, half a promising threat. He descended upon the dragon, delivering a mighty blow to its snout that reverberated through the city.

 Chapter 10

    The captain of the Thesian guard drifted aimlessly, powerless as he drew nearer to the gaping rift of despair. His eyes were locked onto the scene unfolding below. They were unwilling spectators to a fierce struggle, forced to watch as an orc in a frenzied rage, battled against the serpentine dragon, pushing it back¡ªfor how long he wondered. A shiver ran through his heart as the weight of his misjudgment sank in, spurred by the dragon''s mocking taunts. The creature swelled to monstrous proportions, its teeth gleaming dangerously sharp, and its scales as dark as the depths of midnight. It seemed to have gotten stronger and it was his fault and miscalculation. The situation felt utterly foreign, and the formidable archmage Nickolas Granfry was nowhere to be seen.


    ¡°Captain... uh, what... are your orders, sir?¡± one soldier ventured, struggling to draw closer. He was a lieutenant, one of the city''s few remaining officers, standing out in his formal attire, which bore little armor. The captain, in contrast, was a different breed¡ªhis garb was meant to shine with badges of honor and elegance, yet his heart belonged to the battlefield, a place that never truly left his spirit.


    ¡°Captain, are you alright?¡± the lieutenant pressed again, as he managed to reach the captain¡¯s shoulder and gripped with urgency. The firm squeeze jolted the captain from his reverie. ¡°I¡¯m fine, Triggs. We¡¯ve fought side by side through many struggles; you know how I get during difficult battles,¡± he replied, meeting his lieutenant¡¯s concerned gaze.


    ¡°Have you come up with a strategy yet, Krol?¡± Lieutenant Triggs inquired while scanning the faces of their remaining soldiers. Panic was etched across most of them, and the earlier blast from the dragon didn''t help. Some of their comrades were blasted into the rift, their screams echoing in the air like a haunting memory.


    Captain Krol gritted his teeth in frustration and found it hard to meet Triggs'' gaze.


    ¡°For the first time in a long time, I don''t have a plan.¡± Captain Krol said with hesitation. He felt ashamed, his soldiers relied on him to end this chaos around them and in the end he was useless. Suddenly a voice spoke up beside both soldiers spooking them.


    ¡°Perhaps I can¡­ be of assistance.¡± an older withered voice chimed in. Both soldiers Immediately went into a battle stance causing the troops to as well. Suddenly the air shifted in front of the two commanding officers. Nickolas Granfry appeared out of nowhere clutching his staff and breathing heavily.


    "There''s no need for alarm," Nickolas said with a weary wave of his hand. Captain Krol blinked in disbelief, unable to trust his own vision.


    ¡°Nick... Nickolas Granfry... you''re alive!¡± Lieutenant Triggs exclaimed, his voice brimming with joy. A wave of exhilaration washed over the squad of soldiers behind him, their arms and swords raised in jubilant celebration at their Lieutenant''s words. A flicker of hope ignited in the hearts of all who listened. Captain Krol extended his arm, palm open and flat, signaling for silence among his troops. Instantly, the cheers subsided, and the crowd stood ready, attentive to their commander''s voice.


    ¡°I can¡¯t fathom how you made it through, but I¡¯m grateful you did. A scout observing the earlier aerial battle reported seeing you get struck down by the dragon.¡±


    ¡°I was indeed hit. That¡¯s partly why I¡¯m in this state now, but that¡¯s not the pressing matter at hand. I need your assistance to expel this dragon from our world.¡± Nickolas turned to face the rest of the soldiers. ¡°I require everyone¡¯s strength to save our fellow citizens and protect our realm.¡± The soldiers exchanged glances with one another, each half-expecting to anticipate Nickolas¡¯s next words, but no one dared to interrupt his heartfelt plea.


    ¡°How are we going to help in this condition?¡± Captain Krol asked, pointing to his floating squad of soldiers drifting in different directions.


    ¡° No need to fret about that. Bucrok must have disrupted the dragon''s focus causing the spell to wear off. As we speak it''s getting weaker by the second. The landing part might be an issue but at the rate the spell is fading worse case might be a broken bone.¡± As Nickolas said that, everyone around could see they started falling at a slow rate. The soldiers'' faces lit up with delight.


    ¡° So, how are we to help someone as powerful as you? ¡± Lieutenant Triggs asked as he looked at his sword. ¡° We barely feel like we did anything to the dragon with our barrage of arrows and spells.¡±


    ¡° This dragon is unlike anything we have ever encountered or fought before.¡± Nickolas said as he began floating closer to the soldiers. ¡° Traditional means wont do in this battle.


    ¡° Captain Krol, I''m sure you already noticed what your little attack did to the dragon. ¡± Krol grimaced as he thought to himself. Nickolas turned to the rest of the soldiers and raised his voice.¡° We have one chance to expel the dragon before it fully anchors itself to this world."


    Krol nodded gravely, his expression a storm of concern as he took a moment to absorb the varied reactions from his soldiers. As he scanned the faces before him, he was struck by the contrast of feeling present: many stood tall, shoulders back, radiating a fierce resolve and determination, while others seemed almost blank, their eyes wide and uncomprehending, as if caught in the midst of a daunting nightmare they could hardly fathom. It was a moment heavy with the weight of their shared fate. ¡°Then tell us¡­ what is it that you require from us?¡± he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil of emotion brewing within.


    Nickolas surveyed the remaining fragments of their small army. "Half of the mages will concentrate their powers on reversing the mana flowing from that rift," he announced decisively, a spark of conviction igniting in his chest. "We need to trigger a pulling reaction. Even now, I can feel our world¡¯s mana becoming dangerously saturated with wild energy, a chaotic force that could spell doom for us all. Meanwhile, the other half of our mages will be tasked with maintaining distractions for the beast, launching random magical assaults to keep it momentarily confused.¡±


    Krol¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief as the ominous implications of Nicholas¡¯ plan settled in. ¡°And what do you propose for my soldiers? Do you expect us to charge out and meet our doom? That creature grows stronger with every ounce of mana it consumes!¡± His fierce gaze bore into Nicholas, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword as if drawing strength from it.


    Nickolas met his gaze, his voice tinged with the weight of grim acceptance. "It is a grim sacrifice, I won¡¯t pretend otherwise. I need your men to engage the dragon on the ground, to keep its attention fixed on them. It can¡¯t know of our plan till the trap is set.¡± His heart felt leaden as he continued, ¡°I won''t sugarcoat it: this is less an offense and more a desperate, suicidal charge. The time they can buy us will be our lifeline, the key to pulling off something of this magnitude. The mages need all the time they can muster to make this work.¡±


    Captain Krol held Nicholas¡¯ gaze, searching for any flicker of deceit, but he found only hard, unyielding truth reflected back at him. He felt a sickening churn in his stomach but also an undeniable pull of loyalty to the men who had stood beside him through countless trials. Just then, Lieutenant Triggs broke the heavy silence. "So, essentially, you¡¯re expecting us to serve as cannon fodder for this mission?¡± His voice carried an edge of bitter disbelief.


    Nickolas paused for a moment, letting the heavy silence settle like a shroud over the gathering. Murmurs began to ripple through the ranks of soldiers, a range of tones and questions mingling in the charged atmosphere. Yet a singular, haunting truth emerged from the chaotic murmurs, a notion shared among all living beings: no one desires to willingly trespass into the jaws of death.


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    Turning back to his men, Captain Krol raised his voice, cutting through the rising tide of uncertainty. ¡°Take a moment to reflect on the creature we face,¡± he commanded, his tone imbued with a seriousness that drew the attention of every soldier. ¡°This is an apex predator, superior in its magic, a being with no equal in our world. We stand at a precipice¡ªthe opportunity to become the heroes of our country, our families, and one we ourselves believe we truly are. You are the defensive wall against a force that could usher in the apocalypse. Hold your heads high, take pride in knowing you are standing against a ravenous beast that seeks to devour our world.¡±


    With a fierce emphasis, Krol raised his sword high above his head, the glint of metal reflecting the dim light around them as a symbol of defiance. His soldiers mirrored his resolve, lifting their weapons as one, a chorus of clashing steel ringing through the air. In that galvanizing moment, Nickolas felt a surge of hope, a glimmer of possibility that they might just have a fighting chance.


    Just then, the spell they were under began to fade at long last, and one by one, the soldiers began to drop towards the ground. A wave of relief washed over them as they realized, somewhat fortuitously, that they were only about ten feet away from solid ground. Every one of the soldiers knew in their hearts it was now time to take back the city.


    In the distance, Bucrok resembled a ferocious creature on a rampage. Positioned on the dragon¡¯s head, he swung his battle hammer down with relentless fury, each strike reverberating through the massive beast¡¯s body. Yet, the dragon, clearly annoyed, retaliated with a powerful swipe of its gigantic claw, sending Bucrok hurtling through several buildings and unleashing a cloud of dust and debris in his wake. The minor wounds on the dragon''s hide quickly faded, but the previously damaged eye now bore down on Bucrok with an ominous glare. As the dragon prepared to unleash another devastating breath attack, it was abruptly interrupted by a hail of arrows.


    Jaquawe swooped in, launching a flurry of arrows aimed at the dragon¡¯s eyes, nostrils, and gaping mouth. The beast roared with rage, momentarily blinded once again. Just then Jaquawe felt an amassing weight pressing heavy in the area he was flying in near the dragon. It was unbearable in pressure he felt his body slam into the ground and the area around the dragon turned into a giant crater. Just then, Nickolas and his unit of soldiers finally reached the area where Bucrok had landed. He lay several buildings away, bleeding heavily, his labored breaths punctuated by the sounds of choking¡ªmost likely on his own blood.


    "Bucrok!" Nickolas shouted, panic etched across his face. The orc kept his gaze firmly fixed on the dragon, unwavering despite the odds against him. Nickolas was hardly surprised by Bucrok''s fighting spirit; the orc likely intended to fight until the dragon was defeated first. Approaching with purpose, Nickolas raised his staff toward Bucrok.


    "Melentradala," he intoned, and a swirling green aura enveloped Bucrok, easing his labored breath. Before Nickolas had a chance to speak, Bucrok sprang to his feet, a fierce growl escaping his lips.


    "Cast it again," Bucrok commanded with unyielding determination.


    ¡°Cast a healing spell? You¡¯re already¡ª¡± Nickolas started, only to be cut off.


    ¡°NO! Not that. I want the strength spell.¡± Bucrok growled, his eyes still fixed on the enemy.


    "I''ve already cast that spell before. It takes a tremendous toll on your body¡ªyour muscles are being pushed to their breaking point," Nickolas warned.


    "I don¡¯t care! I¡¯m already broken! CAST IT AGAIN!" Bucrok bellowed, his fury evident as he moved closer to Nickolas, foam gathering at his mouth.


    ¡°Tarnokis,¡± Nickolas relented. No sooner had he spoken than Bucrok was barreling toward the dragon once more. The spell amplified his strength fivefold, and now, combined with the previous enchantment, he was operating at ten times his normal capacity. Nickolas couldn¡¯t help but wonder just how much more powerful Bucrok had become.


    With a resigned sigh, Nickolas turned to Captain Krol. ¡°It¡¯s time. Krol, lead your men and support them. Good luck.¡± Without hesitation, Krol acknowledged with a nod and drew his weapon. "Follow me!" he shouted, his soldiers rallying together like a swarm of furious bees. Hundreds surged forward, blades raised high, spirits soaring.


    The dragon, recovering from the last onslaught, turned to face the approaching horde. Leading the charge were Bucrok, Captain Krol, and Lieutenant Triggs. The dragon snorted and, in a moment of fury, swung its massive tail, demolishing nearby buildings and sending debris crashing into the advancing soldiers. Many fell, some instantly cut down or trapped beneath the wreckage, but still, the relentless tide pressed on.


    As the soldiers marched further, the weight of the dragon''s gravity magic bore down upon them with increasing intensity. Once Bucrok was within striking distance, he leaped into the air, practically soaring. The dragon, Yourntihnac, noticed him and swung a colossal claw. In a surprising twist, Bucrok countered with his hammer, generating a shockwave that momentarily stunned both Yourntihnac and the soldiers. This unexpected move allowed Bucrok to leap away from the dragon''s grasp and dart around to aim for its maw once more. His newfound speed took Yourntihnac by surprise, and Bucrok unleashed a devastating horizontal strike, knocking the dragon off balance. The soldiers'' morale soared, igniting a frantic race among them to be the first to land a blow. The effects of the gravity magic wore off immediately after the strike and the soldiers quickened their pace.


    Nickolas observed as Bucrok charged headlong into the fray, delivering a powerful strike while the determined soldiers surged forward like a stampede, undaunted by the peril that loomed ahead. Turning to the mages accompanying him, Nickolas met their hopeful eyes. Despite their eagerness, their lack of experience compared to Nickolas cast a shadow of uncertainty over them.


    ¡°Alright, those of you with excess mana, go assist the soldiers. The rest, who are drained, stay with me,¡± Nickolas ordered. He tapped his staff on the ground to draw their attention. Half of the mages quickly summoned flying spells and took to the skies, joining the soldiers.


    ¡°Um¡­ sir, many of us have used up nearly all our stored mana. How are we going to assist with the rift without it?¡± one mage inquired, he didn¡¯t bother trying to hide exhaustion.


    ¡°Relax. It¡¯s actually an advantage that many of you are low on mana right now. An empty plate at a buffet is far more useful than one that¡¯s already full,¡± Nickolas remarked, a knowing smile creeping across his face.


    With a deep inhale, he drew in the air and paused, momentarily suspending the moment. The other mages exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions a blend of curiosity and uncertainty. Just as one was about to voice a question, Nickolas released a torrent of warm breath. As the air flowed past his lips, a single word slipped out softly.


    ¡°Yinro.¡±


    In an instant, a flawless replica of Nickolas materialized before him, emerging as the steam fully took shape. The mages exchanged excited whispers, captivated by the awe-inspiring spell that had just unfolded before their eyes. While Nickolas would usually relish the chance to boast and impart his knowledge of this spell to the younger mages, urgency was pressing upon him, and his foremost priority was ensuring their survival through this crisis. He gestured towards his own doppelg?nger and instructed, ¡°Follow his lead. I¡¯ll support the soldiers on the field against the dragon. The fate of our world depends on you all.¡± With those words, Nickolas began to chant, ¡°Alerie.¡± Just as he was preparing to take flight, he felt the bitter taste of blood rise in his throat. He swiftly wiped his mouth, intending to ascend into the sky, but then froze for a moment looking at his hand. A concerned voice broke the tension: "Sir Nickolas, are you alright?¡± The young mage''s eyes reflected his concern, but Nickolas waved him off nonchalantly as he pulled a handkerchief from his inner pocket to wipe his hand.


    ¡°I¡¯m perfectly fine¡­ Just a bit fatigued,¡± he replied. Before any further inquiries could arise, he soared into the air, leaving the ground behind. The clone looked at the mages and gestured to the rift in the sky.


    ¡°We have a task ahead of us, but our time is limited. Is there anyone among you who knows any absorption spells?¡± Nickolas¡¯ clone inquired, his voice filled with curiosity and a hint of urgency. The atmosphere around him felt tense as the other mages exchanged glances, uncertainty etched on their faces. The city offered only the most basic of magic classes, and many of the more seasoned practitioners had either vanished or met gruesome ends in the ongoing chaos.


    ¡°Alright, no need to panic. We¡¯ll just have to take a bit more time to get it right,¡± the clone stated, although a weary expression creased his features, hinting at the strain of the situation.


    Meanwhile, amidst the clamor of battle, Bucrok fought like a wild creature. With raw energy and primal ferocity, he was hitting, throwing, punching, and kicking with such relentless determination that it was as if he were channeling the fierce spirit of the storm itself. The dragon looming above was having no easy task keeping Bucrok at bay, all the while maintaining vigilance against the stealthy assaults of Jaquawe, who, despite his severe injuries, pressed on undeterred. Every time he spotted an opening, he released a precisely aimed arrow that struck the dragon with calculated timing, providing Bucrok with necessary support. The beast''s wounds, though serious, would heal even if struck in vital areas, yet each injury presented an opportunity for Bucrok and their fellow fighters.


    The dragon unleashed gravity magic once again, and it caused everyone in the vicinity to lift into the air, defying the ground below them. Amidst the pandemonium, Yourntihnac turned and, with a swift motion of one massive claw, scooped up an entire building as if it were little more than a handful of mud. He hurled this makeshift projectile at Bucrok and the soldiers flanking him. In response, Bucrok instinctively positioned his hammer defensively, but the soldiers nearby whimpered in panic, fear straining their features. Just moments before the debris would have crushed them, a colossal wall of mud, five feet thick and soaring up to thirty feet high, sprang forth from the ground, rising as a barrier in front of Bucrok.


    Yourntihnac began to scan for a magic user. His gaze abruptly locked onto the sky, where Nickolas was hovering. A deep, menacing growl erupted from the dragon''s throat, reverberating ominously as it sneered in recognition. ¡°You again?¡± it spat. ¡° I thought you died already. ¡±


    ¡°Not yet dragon.¡± Nickolas said with a scoff. ¡° I''m a little harder to kill than I might seem.¡± As the great beast stared intently at Nickolas, it paused, sniffing the air as if it sensed something beyond the immediate conflict. The dragon turned its enormous body slowly until its attention was fixed upon the northern forest, towards the royal capital.


    ¡°Ah... I can smell it,¡± the dragon mused, a twisted grin forming on its savage visage. ¡°You have descendants. They¡¯re nearby, aren¡¯t they? Perhaps a visit is in order.¡± A chill shot through Nickolas¡¯s heart, but he quickly pushed aside the creeping fear that threatened to overwhelm him. He had no time to engage with the beast¡¯s taunts. Instead, he focused intently, raising a hand to draw the dragon¡¯s attention for a different purpose. In a flash, an arrow from Jaquawe surged through the air, aimed directly at the dragon''s face.

 Chapter 11

    Yourntihnac remained oblivious to the impending threat as Nickolas silently conjured a spell that would amplify the arrow¡¯s power.


    ¡°Bubilatrum!¡± he intoned sharply. In an instant, the arrow swelled to the size of a wagon, transforming into a formidable projectile. Before the dragon could react, the colossal arrow collided with its face, the impact sending the relentless beast reeling back in pain, disruptively shattering the gravity hold it had imposed on the battlefield.


    Seizing this precious moment of vulnerability, the soldiers below rallied, launching their assault on the dragon¡¯s exposed underbelly¡ªa visceral opportunity they could not ignore. Captain Krol led the charge with unyielding ferocity, hacking at the dragon''s tough scales with all his might wielding a greatsword. Infuriated, the dragon regained its footing and unleashed a devastating swipe at the nearby soldiers, its claws raking through their ranks.


    Just then, a fireball spell erupted, crashing squarely into the dragon''s back, drawing its furious gaze to the source of the attack. This moment of distraction created a crucial blind spot, precisely the opening Bucrok had been waiting for. With a fierce swing of his battle hammer, he struck at the dragon with bone-shattering force, channeling all his strength into the blow.


    Nickolas paused for a brief moment, a surge of relief flooding over his features as he watched over the fight. ¡°It¡¯s working,¡± he murmured to himself, the glimmer of hope rising as the tide of battle began to shift in their favor.


    Bucrok sprang toward the dragon, intent on targeting its hind legs. Ice arrows rained down upon the beast¡¯s face, launched by a supporting mage, while Lieutenant Triggs led a ferocious offensive from the front. With his twin blades in hand, Triggs danced around the dragon¡¯s deadly strikes, deftly evading its lethal bites and slashes. The sight of fallen soldiers, turned to mere pulp, stirred a deep sorrow within Lieutenant Triggs. Seizing a moment of distraction, Bucrok prepared to strike. Yet, just before his blow would land, a searing pain gripped his heart. His body jerked as if controlled by some unseen force, and his hammer suddenly felt unnaturally heavy, causing him to drop it. Confusion enveloped him until he realized both spells faded and that this was the cost of using so much borrowed power. In that fleeting instant, the dragon caught sight of his vulnerable state and swatted him aside like a nuisance, sending him crashing through a series of buildings. Lying motionless, Bucrok became an inviting target, and the dragon resolved to eliminate the threat once and for all.


    With a fearsome roar, Yourntihnac drew back for a devastating breath attack, but Jaquawe sprang into action, desperate to halt the impending doom. Out of arrows, the resourceful Alofrian resorted to unleashing feathers from his own body. A few found their mark in the dragon¡¯s eye, but Yourntihnac brushed off the discomfort with disdain. Jaquawe¡¯s instincts screamed of imminent peril as he felt the weight of danger loom overhead. Nickolas flew closer, invoking a protective barrier around Bucrok,


    ¡°Denizarra¡± he said as he braced himself to renew the spell. Just as the dragon unleashed its torrent of purple energy, it redirected its gaze towards Nickolas, unleashing the beam at him instead. In that split second, Nickolas cast the barrier over himself,


    ¡°Denizarra!¡± he shouted, his instincts sharper this time, he knew how to focus better to survive. With the dragon¡¯s purple breath raging forth, its tail lashed against the barrier shielding Bucrok. Each assault sent tremors through the spell, and Jaquawe quickly realized the breath attack was merely a ruse. With a final strike, the barrier shattered, and the dragon¡¯s fierce tail aimed for the kill. Without a second thought, Jaquawe leaped into the path of destruction. The collision was catastrophic, bones cracking under the force. When Bucrok finally lifted his gaze, he found Jaquawe looming protectively over him, wounded and bloodied, with crumpled wings drooping at his sides.


    ¡°Jaquawe? What¡­¡± Bucrok struggled to find his voice. Despite the blood trickling from his lips, Jaquawe managed a smile, his body trembling with agony.


    ¡°You¡­ must¡­ survive!¡± he gasped, fighting to communicate. Just then, before Jaquawe could say anything else, a pair of immense jaws, lined with menacing jagged teeth, closed around him. A horrifying display of dominance erupted as blood splattered over Bucrok.


    ¡°Jaquawe¡­¡± Bucrok breathed softly, still in disbelief at the sight before him. There stood Yourntihnac, wearing a smug expression as it methodically chewed. Enraged, Bucrok felt a fresh wave of anger surging within him as he struggled to rise, consumed by fury. Agonizing waves of pain coursed through his body, as if it were rebelling against Bucrok''s commands. Gritting his teeth, he battled through the agony, each throb intensifying his fury. With reckless abandon, he charged at the dragon, fists clenched and weapon absent. The dragon snarled, but instead of engaging, a smirk crept across its face.


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    ¡°Too predictable,¡± Yourntihnac declared, satisfaction evident in its voice. With a swift swipe of its claw, it tore a rift into the fabric of reality, opening a swirling rift of chaotic colors that tugged at Bucrok. Energy crackled like lightning, leaving the orc with no time to halt his advance. He stumbled forward and plummeted into the abyss.


    ¡°NO!¡± Nickolas shouted, desperation in his tone. He attempted to cast a halting spell, but it was futile; Bucrok vanished into the rift as it snapped shut. Frantically, Nickolas reached out for the fading mana, hoping to intervene, but a violent cough erupted from him, blood spilling forth. His body was nearing its limits, slowly deteriorating due to mana poisoning as he sacrificed his health for power. Inspecting his hands, he noticed new wrinkles forming, and felt his face to discover more had appeared there as well.


    ¡°No¡­¡± Nickolas gritted his teeth, despair replacing his earlier confidence. ¡°I¡¯m not finished yet. We need to win this battle.¡±


    The dragon diverted its focus to the sky, utterly disregarding the soldiers, Captain Krol, and Lieutenant Triggs, who fought desperately to maintain its attention¡ªyet their efforts were in vain. Yourntihnac noticed the spell formation materializing overhead; unsure of what it signified, it chose to prepare against any unexpected attack. With a menacing snarl, it gathered its strength for a colossal purple mana blast, ready to annihilate everything in its path. Ethereal purple light emanated from its mouth, glowing more intensely than before as it drew upon immense energy for its breath attack. The Mages around the dragon panicked and shot out whatever spells they could think of to stop it. As the spells hit the dragon¡¯s scales they seemed to immediately dissipate.


    Snapping out of his shock, Nickolas''s mind raced for a solution. He witnessed Captain Krol and Lieutenant Triggs striking futilely at the dragon, feeling increasingly ignored. Suddenly, inspiration struck him. He aimed his staff at the two soldiers.


    Bubilatrum!¡± Nickolas yelled, his voice strained and his throat slick with blood. In a desperate bout of coughing, he pressed on, and to his astonishment, the spell sparked to life. Suddenly, Lieutenant Triggs and Captain Krol''s bodies swelled to nearly a third of the dragon''s size. They exchanged bewildered glances, acknowledging each other with a nod of understanding. Lieutenant Triggs bent down, presenting his back to his commander, while Captain Krol dashed forward, leaping off Triggs¡¯ back to confront the dragon¡¯s glowing snout. With a powerful upward strike, he managed to deflect the ominous breath attack away from the mages hovering above, redirecting it toward the far-off mountains¡ªthe dwarves'' territory. The resulting explosion sent ripples of shock through the ground.


    As the ritual spell above reached completion, the rift pulsated rhythmically, reminiscent of a heartbeat. With each pulse, the chaotic mana began retracting into the rift. Yourntihnac let out a frustrated snarl, finally realizing the creatures'' intentions. The dragon''s once-vibrant scales began to fade, its connection to the mortal realm slipping away. Its massive form twisted and struggled as it was pulled toward the rift.


    In a final act of defiance, the dragon lashed out with its claws, unleashing three malevolent energy waves targeting Nickolas. Grounded and unable to escape, Nickolas''s body throbbed with pain, the clone above him already dissipated, leaving him to control the spell formation solo. The mages in the air provided a framework, and he had to direct their collective power like a skilled conductor. Captain Krol attempted to shield Nickolas from the strikes with his giant form, but as one wave struck him, he vanished without a trace. Fear gripped his troops as they realized their commander had disappeared. With two more deadly energy attacks barreling toward Nickolas, Lieutenant Triggs rushed to emulate Krol¡¯s brave move, trying to intercept both incoming hits. His efforts proved futile; he too vanished just as swiftly, leaving the final wave hurtling toward Nickolas. Yourntihnac¡¯s grin widened in satisfaction while Nickolas¡¯s heart raced, frantically working to expedite the spell.


    Then, out of nowhere, an Alofrian woman appeared, shoving Nickolas aside and sacrificing herself in the process. Confused, Nickolas glanced up, ready to express his gratitude, but she had already disappeared. Frustration twisted Yourntihnac¡¯s face as it turned its attention to the castle. Alarm surged through Nickolas. The mages who had been idle rushed to shield the castle with their bodies, prepared to give their lives for its protection. But instead of unleashing the expected breath attack, the dragon spoke, its calm demeanor sending shockwaves of panic through everyone.


    ¡°En Thro Ragh I Fid Tran Dalla Kuma Nud Quali Drung¡­¡± Yourntihnac intoned, and as it finished, it cast a final look at Nickolas while being pulled into the rift. Suddenly Nicholas'' face twisted in fear. In an instant, the colossal rift in the sky sealed shut. It was over. The soldiers on the battlefield although mourning began to cheer a battle cry for victory. As if all their sacrifices paid off. The only one not cheering was Nicholas.


    Nickolas crumpled to the ground as the relentless mana poisoning overwhelmed him. In an instant, he felt his body age, his strength evaporating like mist. As he lay there, the dragon''s final words reverberated through his thoughts. ¡°I leave you a parting gift, Mage. You¡¯ll understand soon enough.¡± Those words sent a shiver down his spine, but he felt too weak to unravel their significance. What mattered most at that moment was the city¡ªthough ravaged it was safe for now.