The wind screamed around them. The ruined jungle below trembled under the weight of Balerion's triple-headed roar.
Varnyx, in his colossal Draconian form, sliced through the skies like a living meteor. His obsidian wings cracked the clouds with every beat, storms bending to his will.
On his back stood the war-bound elite:
Emperor Malrik Vortan, silent and brooding, cloak flaring behind him like a banner of flame.
Kaleus, gripping his halberd tightly, his gaze sharp and cold.
Kaen, still hanging on for dear life like an unwilling parachute volunteer, muttering prayers to every god he had mocked in his lifetime.
And then—
Malrik stepped forward, voice firm yet calm, wind brushing his golden armor.
"Varnyx. I want you to meet it head-on. You rip those heads off if you have to."
"Kaleus, Kaen—you're with me. Direct support. We weaken it. Varnyx ends it."
Varnyx let out a low, guttural growl from deep within his chest—acknowledging the order with primal intensity.
Malrik turned to the others.
"Varion. Zephyra. Evacuate the remaining contenders. Get them out of this zone."
Zephyra gave a quick nod, the wind swirling around her like silk. Varion didn't even wait for a cue—his body already engulfed in demonic flame as he jumped into action with her, vanishing in arcs of light.
Malrik looked down at the chaos below—the battlefield painted with blood, smoke, and energy signatures.
He exhaled deeply, his voice a murmur drowned by the wind:
"How long has it been… since I fought like this?"
Kaleus—ever the smirking devil—glanced sideways at him with a snort.
"Try not to pull your back, old friend.
Wouldn't want to die of arthritis before the beast gets a bite."
Malrik side-eyed him with a glare.
"Says the guy who wears eyeliner in war."
"It's war paint. Get it right."
And then—they jumped.
Mid-Descent
Malrik's form began to glow—crimson and gold erupting from his core.
His armor shifted.
Forged in the image of a war-god, red-plated and roaring with power. Golden lion-engraved gauntlets flexed. Two colossal swords unfolded from his back, searing the air with flame and pressure.
Kaleus followed suit—his transformation crackled in obsidian light. He now looked like a demonic archangel, wings black as the void, silver hair flaring like lightning. His halberd extended, jagged and monstrous.
But—
Kaen was still screaming.
"AAAAAAAAA—WHY THE FUCK ARE WE JUMPING—KALEUS, YOU CRAZY MURDER UNCLE!!"
Kaleus, holding him by the collar mid-air like he was dragging a squealing toddler:
"If you don't stop screeching, I swear I'll yeet you at the dragon myself."
Kaen flailed. "THIS IS WHY I HAVE TRUST ISSUES WITH WINGS!! I WAS A TECH SUPPORT—NOT A DRAGON-SKYDIVER!"
"YOU HAVE POWERS!"
"EMOTIONAL POWERS!"
Kaleus rolled his eyes so hard his head tilted.
As the others descended like flaming comets, Varnyx banked left, his draconic gaze fixed entirely on Balerion, the three-headed terror now turning its monstrous eyes up toward him.
Thunder cracked. The beast roared again.
The sky was about to collapse.
And Varnyx grinned, a rare, ancient grin not seen in centuries.
"Let's see if your heads scream the same way they did last time…"
He dove.
A dark silence overtook the battlefield.
Even the winds held their breath.
And then—
BOOM.
A sonic shockwave tore across the sky as Varnyx descended—his obsidian draconic form diving like a black comet wreathed in violet lightning. His wings, sharper than blades, sliced through stormclouds, and his body crackled with primeval energy—ancient magic surging in every movement.
Below him, the colossal three-headed dragon—Balerion—snapped all three necks in his direction, eyes glowing with molten hatred.
Their roars collided mid-air.
Sound ceased.
The two titans met in the heavens, just above the ruined jungle, in a blinding explosion of fire, thunder, and magic.
Varnyx struck first.
His maw opened wide, and from deep within his throat, a concentrated beam of ultra violet fire erupted tinted with amethyst and blackness. The beam wasn't just fire—it was aetherial death, tearing through clouds and carving a line through the sky.
Balerion roared in defiance, flapping his two wings wide—his chests glowing as if stoked by nuclear flame—and from his middle mouth came a golden energy surge, laced with electromagnetic storms and crackling plasma arcs.
Their breaths collided.
The sky collapsed inward.
A colossal shockwave erupted.
Mountains in the distance cracked.
The sea buckled violently.
Varnyx spiraled, twisting mid-air, wrapping around Balerion's left head with crushing force. His tail—a bladed weapon of divine steel—slammed into one of Balerion's wings, severing flesh and spraying molten ichor across the sky like flaming blood.
But Balerion countered.
One of his heads bit into Varnyx's shoulder, cracking the obsidian scales with a vicious crunch. Another head vomited corrosive flame, drenching Varnyx in fire that burned like a sun's core.
Varnyx screamed, but his scream shook reality itself.
And from the burning, he erupted with chaos energy—his entire form exploding outward with a sphere of violet flame, sending Balerion crashing back through several cliffs like a meteor.
Balerion hit the earth.
And the world broke.
Volcanoes erupted spontaneously.
The entire battlefield terrain changed—what was once jungle was now a crater-ridden warzone of obsidian rock and lava rivers.
Lightning fell like rain. Not natural. But called.
Balerion stood again, wings burning, his middle head torn and regenerating.
Suddenly—
Balerion sprinted.
A creature that size shouldn't move like that.
But it did.
He barreled into Varnyx, ramming all three heads into his chest and dragging him across the battlefield, carving a trench the size of a canyon. Fire exploded from his maws in rhythmic bursts—scorching
everything in their path.
Varnyx roared back.
He spun—twisting his body upward, lifting Balerion by the neck with his claws—and hurled him into the sea.
The ocean boiled.
Balerion crashed into the ocean like a meteorite—steam billowing up in cyclonic walls, sea life vaporized. The three-headed beast didn't stay down long.
He rose—waterfalling off his wings, glowing with nuclear rage. His three necks coiled like serpents, and from each maw, fire began to pulse again.
But this time—
He wasn't alone in the sky.
From above, Malrik Vortan descended like a red comet. His twin colossal swords gleamed with purple gravity runes, their weight bending the air itself. His lion-engraved armor glowed dimly with each step through the storm.
Beside him—Kaleus, fully armored, his massive halberd cloaked in darkness that screamed. His winged silhouette cut through lightning like a vengeful archangel.
And further back…
Kaen.
Still in midair.
Still being held awkwardly by Kaleus.
Screaming.
"I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS!"
Kaleus snarled.
"You screamed the entire ride here."
"YOU WERE FLYING ON A DRAGON, MAN! THAT'S NOT NORMAL!"
Malrik, already floating above Balerion, finally turned and roared:
"ENOUGH."
His voice warped space.
"Kaen—pull yourself together. If we don't stop this now… everyone dies."
Kaen blinked, mid-sob. Sniffed. Wiped a glob of snot and tears across his sleeve.
"...O-okay…"
Time Fractured.
And then—
Kaen exhaled.
And something clicked.
The world around him... slowed.
No. It stopped.
Raindrops hung suspended in the air like frozen diamonds.
Lightning arched but didn't flash.
Balerion's enormous wings moved millimeters per eternity.
Kaleus turned his head, slowly, eyes narrowing.
"…Time dilation?"
Malrik didn't need to speak. He met Kaleus's eyes—and nodded.
That single look said everything.
"Now."
Kaleus moved first.
His body blurred, cutting through the frozen storm, black wings splitting the clouds behind him. He moved like liquid void—his halberd forming a massive obsidian crescent.
He reached the left head.
And without hesitation—he drove the blade into its throat, then twisted.
The entire head imploded into shadows.
Gone.
Malrik followed.
Both gravity swords out—he floated sideways, each blade swirling with gravitational singularities. Every swing he made unraveled atoms, the edges of his blade ripping holes into space itself.
He reached the right head—
And with a shout that bent the horizon:
"BE ERASED."
He cleaved.
The sword passed through the head—and space around it collapsed inwards.
Then exploded outward.
That head was gone, reduced to molecular dust, scattered into the cosmos.
And then—
Time returned.
The world caught up in a scream.
BOOOOOOOOM.
Two heads. Gone.
Blood sprayed across the clouds in slow-motion trails, raining down in divine arcs like the heavens bleeding.
Balerion screeched—a sound not of pain, but primal fear.
He turned—
But it was already too late.
Above the dragon, Varnyx, still bloodied and burned, spread his wings wide.
His claws glowed white-hot.
He dived—tearing through the sky like vengeance made flesh.
Balerion raised the middle head, but—
Varnyx grabbed it.
Both hands.
His arms locked around the jaws, forcing them open.
And then—
From deep within Varnyx's throat—
A growl.
A sound.
No—
A death sentence.
"This is for what you did to our world."
"Die."
He roared.
And from his mouth, a beam of pure draconian essence—an obliteration breath—fired point-blank into Balerion's skull, through the mouth, past the throat—
Out the back of his head.
Everything detonated.
The final head cracked, then split, then exploded in a burst of white flame and black ash.
The World Held Its Breath
Balerion's massive body convulsed.
Then fell.
Like a mountain dropping from the sky, he hit the earth—and kept going.
Into a new crater.
A shockwave turned half the nearby forest to dust.
Then—silence.
The storm faded.
The rain returned.
And above it all—Varnyx hovered. Wings wide. Blood dripping from his jaw.
He turned to the others.
Malrik.
Kaleus.
Kaen.
And then, softly—Kaen whispered through the quiet:
"Holy shit…"
"…we actually killed it."