"This broadcast, oh People of Canarine... This is our revenge." Roostalk's voice hammered the words into the very air. Raw with emotion.
Spark Nighthawk stood amidst the wary, shell-shocked survivors of Canarine Town. The words echoed in his mind. Sharp and cutting. Revenge. How would they do that?
His dark-grey eyes held a questioning glint. As he watched the colossal holographic screen. Mayor Hilldove was a Tier-6 Technomind Engineer. Adult dragons were Tier-7 or higher.
This was suicidal. Unless… there was a trick. Spark's inherent distrust, tempered by his new world's pragmatism, kicked in.
Around him, the gathered townspeople stirred. Hope flickered in some eyes. A desperate, fragile thing. Others merely stared. Numb with loss. Their faces were grim.
A few elderly men muttered prayers. Their hands were trembling. Mostly, there was silence. A heavy, expectant quietness. Broken only by the incessant whistle of the wind through the skeletal remains of buildings.
The holographic screen shimmered. Shifting scenes with a jarring suddenness. The desolate, ash-choked landscape of Greycliff Volcano filled the sky. Its peak piercing a bruised, orange sky.
A column of figures moved towards the gaping maw of a cave near the volcano's base. Small against the vastness of the sight.
"As you can see..." Roostalk's voice narrated. Now calmer. More professional, "Mayor Hilldove is leading our remaining elite forces to the very heart of the beasts' lair."
The camera zoomed in. Hilldove was a picture of grim determination. The leather part of his armor was rumpled. His face was etched with a grief that seemed to have aged him years in days.
But his posture was rigid. His gaze was fixed on the dark entrance. He carried a monstrous Technomind Rifle. Its barrel was as thick as a man's thigh. Its gleam was almost predatory.
His elite soldiers, fewer than twenty, moved with a practiced precision. Their faces were grim reflections of their leader's resolve.
Spark's mind worked. Elite forces. Not many. But they look disciplined. This isn't a mob. This is a targeted strike.
He squinted at the screen. The air around the volcano seemed to shimmer. An effect he recognized as a powerful concealing ward. Likely a Technomind device to keep the dragons from sensing their approach. Until it was too late.
Clever. But still, two adult dragons? Even weakened, they were apex predators.
The camera was likely mounted on a drone-like Technomind device. It followed the squad as they entered the dragon's lair.
Darkness swallowed them. Then, powerful light-orbs ignited. Revealing a vast, crystalline cavern. Gleaming formations of quartz rose to a vaulted ceiling. It was a dragon's nest.
Suddenly, something within the cavern roared. Not with animalistic fury. But with a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the holographic projection. Making the ground beneath Spark's feet seen to tremble faintly even there, in Canarine Town.
Two colossal figures detached themselves from the shadows at the far end of the cavern. They were immense. Scaled beasts. One in a deep emerald color. The other one in a fiery crimson color.
Their eyes, like molten gold, narrowed as they saw the intruders. These were the monsters that had burnt Canarine to ash.
The dragons unfolded their leathery wings. Their movements were slow, almost ponderous. The male, the emerald one, stretched its neck. A low growl was rumbling in its throat.
The female, crimson and sleek, eyed the humans with a cold intelligence. They were powerful. Majestic even. But Spark noted a subtle hesitation in their movements. A slight sluggishness that didn't quite fit their imposing presence.
Then Hilldove moved. With a guttural cry, he hurled a metallic sphere from his hand. It spun end over end. Striking the cavern floor between the dragons and the humans.
A geyser of thick, iridescent green smoke erupted from it. Expanding rapidly to fill the vast cavern.
The dragons roared. A sound of surprise and pain as the smoke enveloped them. Their titanic forms writhed. Their scales were dimming. Their roars turning into ragged coughs.
"Dragonbane Smoke Bomb!" Ivy exclaimed beside him in awe. "Alchemical mixture of Dragonbane Herb and Dragonicide Oil. I thought Dragonbane Herbs are extinct..."
Spark's limited knowledge of herbs flashed through his mind. Dragonbane. A powerful, rare herb. Extremely toxic to draconic biology. Not lethal instantly. But debilitating. It suppressed their magical abilities. Drained their strength. Made their very scales brittle...
On the screen above, the greenish haze clung to the dragon's forms. Dissolving their innate magical resistances. Making them vulnerable.
"Now!" Hilldove's loud voice cut through the dragons' roars.
From concealed compartments in their armor's backpack, the soldiers took and unleashed a volley of harpoons. Not ordinary ones. Each was thick. Made of a dark, unnatural metal. And trailing chains that shimmered with an eerie blue light.
Spark immediately recognized them. These weren't just chains. They were Dragonblight Chains. Runic inscriptions glowed faintly along their lengths.
The harpoons struck home. Embedding themselves deep into the dragons' weakened bodies. Their flanks. Their wings. Their powerful legs.
The dragons shrieked. A sound of agony and outrage. But their struggles were muted. Their strength was weakened by the Dragonbane smoke.
More harpoons and chains followed. Crisscrossing. Binding their massive bodies. Pinning them against the cavern wall and floor. The blue light flared as the chains tightened. Draining their essence. Making their scales crackle with dark energy.
Well prepared, Spark thought. A grim satisfaction warring with a professional assessment. This wasn't a spontaneous act of grief-fueled madness. This was planned.
They had the Dragonbane. They had the Dragonblight Chains. This was an execution. Not a hunt. The meticulousness of it, even in its brutality, was chilling.
The emerald dragon, its head lolling slightly, suddenly spoke. Its voice was guttural. Ancient. But perfectly intelligible in the human tongue. Amplified through the holographic screen.
"Madness! This act… this brings war. A war between our kind and yours! You have doomed your species!"
A collective gasp swept through Canarine Town. Dragons speaking human language? Most of them didn't know dragons could do that.
The raw, primal fear, briefly quelled by the sight of the dragons' capture, returned to many faces. This wasn't just a monster hunt. This was a political declaration.
On the screen, Hilldove scoffed. A crude, dismissive sound that grated in the cavern's echo. His face was still etched with tragedy. It now hardened into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred.
"War?" He sneered. "So be it. If it comes to that, I'll exterminate every last one of you scale-skinned abominations. I'll hunt you across the continents. I'll burn your nests, shatter your eggs, until the very memory of your kind is dust."
His words, broadcast for all to hear, were a death sentence for an entire species.
Some of the survivors in Canarine Town cheered. A raw, desperate roar of approval for the Mayor's unwavering resolve. Others shifted uneasily. A quiet murmur was rippling through the crowd.
Extermination? It was a terrifying concept. Even against creatures that had brought such devastation upon them.
Spark's jaw tightened. Extermination of an entire species… that's a dangerous line to cross. Even for revenge.
"You started this war!" Hilldove continued. His voice was rising. Now tinged with a manic fury. He pointed his massive rifle at the crimson dragon. Now struggling weakly against its bonds.
"You came! You burned my home! You slaughtered my family! My wife, my daughter… innocent people! You made them pay a price for what? For nothing!"
Mayor Hilldove's grief, raw and exposed, fueled his rage. It was a terrible, consuming fire.
The crimson dragon's golden eyes were filled with pain and a terrible sadness. It countered. Her voice was a pained rasp. "Not for nothing, human! We seek only justice! You stole our hatchling! Our egg! A life, a future… taken by your kind!"
She pulled weakly at the chains. Fresh blood oozing from the punctures.
Spark wasn't surprised. He had known that it was the bastards from the Brilliant Horizon Organization. He had dealt with them. But a stolen egg… For dragon, that was a powerful, primal motive for rampage.
Mayor Hilldove's face remained impassive. He likely knew. The Brilliant Horizon's deeds weren't some hidden secret. And he had likely received that information. But he wouldn't argue about it. He merely shook his head, a dismissive gesture.
"Human conflicts… Intricate squabbles among ourselves. You wouldn't understand. Your kind only understands brute force, destruction." There was a cold, calculated refusal to engage with the dragons' point of view.
Then, with an almost casual movement, Hilldove shifted his stance. He didn't aim his formidable Technomind rifle at the bound, suffering adult dragons.
Instead, he swung the massive weapon. Towards a deeper recess in the cavern. A place bathed in the glow of the light-orbs. A cluster of smaller, still-intact dragon eggs. Sat nestled in a hollow.
They were pristine. Unhatched. The one holding the promise of new life.
A gasp went through the crowd in Canarine Town. Did he... Did the mayor really target the eggs?
"These..." Hilldove's voice was flat. Devoid of emotion. "These mean nothing to me." His finger tightened on the trigger. And he pulled it.
A blinding flash of energy erupted from the barrel of his gun. The cavern reverberated with a deafening roar. The beam of raw power ripped through the cluster of eggs.
There was a sound like shattering crystal. Followed by a sickening splash. Shells exploded. Spraying vital fluids and embryonic remains across the cavern floor.
The tiny, nascent lives... Still curled within their protective shells. Now, they were instantly annihilated.
The two adult dragons, already in pain, let out a shriek. A unified, earth-shattering shriek. It was a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. Of primordial grief. And boundless fury.
They convulsed against their chains. Their struggles were no longer just attempts to escape. But desperate, futile efforts born of despair.
Their golden eyes were now wide and bloodshot. They were fixed on the shattered remains of their future. Their cries echoing the cries of the human parents who had lost their own children.
"Just as my family meant nothing to you." Hilldove finished. His voice was a chilling cold. Completing his twisted mirroring of the dragons' complaint.
He stood over the newly created carnage. His expression was utterly unreadable. His act was not just revenge for his family. It was a preemptive strike. An act of genocide committed in cold blood. Proving his earlier threat was not an idle boast.
Then, with a sickeningly smooth motion, he re-aimed the massive rifle. This time, its glowing barrel rested squarely on the emerald dragon's head. Directly between its eyes.
"And now..." The mayor said. His voice regained its earlier, thundering authority, "for the monsters themselves."
He fired.
The weakened dragon's head exploded. In a gruesome spray of scales, bone, and brain matter. Its huge body sagged. Its struggles ceased instantly as its life was extinguished.
The crimson dragon let out a guttural, heartbroken wail, its last vestige of strength ebbing away.
"Finish them!" Hilldove roared. His voice was cracking with a chilling mix of grief and triumph. "Leave nothing!"