On the Evil Scale: Keeper of La Tecla (The Key) Book Two

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๐“’๐“ฑ๐“ช๐“น๐“ฝ๐“ฎ๐“ป 57

๐’ฏhe Great City had been left abandoned by Drakuul with no one running Parliament in his absence. The only ones left behind were a handful of Matrxโ€™s men and creatures to keep up the appearance of their rule, but during the days and weeks that Drakuul had been traveling underground, the cityโ€™s residents came from their homes and safe havens, to take back their city. They revolted against the militia that remained behind; the struggle was difficult due to the creatureโ€™s strengths and Shayds that stayed behind, but without the Generalsโ€™ leadership and lack of magical backup, the fight didnโ€™t last long. Residents; some with military backgrounds led citizens in groups until they regained control of their city. There were cheers and shouts of victory while others still feared coming from their homes; afraid their victory wouldnโ€™t last, dreading the Necromancers return

The clean-up effort would take years due to the amount of destruction caused from the creatures on the ground and skies. Families stood in the rubble piled streets, watching as their children played; jumping up and off vehicles and their laughter provided hope for everyone. The looming cloud above the city had begun to fade; blue patches and beams of sun peeking through its darkness. It was the dawn of new days to come. Demons and half-breeds that lived in the city, added their magical touches to cleanse the streets and city of all the negative energy, as well using their arcane magics to move rubble that couldnโ€™t be moved by human hands.

There would be a long time before the city saw any signs of returning to its original habits, lifestyles and business. The buildings would take years to repair and remove the ugly distortions made to their structures, and many other things to tend to but the city was theirs once more, temporarily, and they had all the time in the world.


The days passed as did the rain and part two of this horrific war commenced. Dry, rested and healed, some of us who were couples spending our last nights together just being held on each others arms, we faced our enemy on the field once more where the bodies of the fallen still laid; feasted on by the islandsโ€™ Ravens.They squawked as they flew off, disgruntled by the disturbance. Within two and a half hours; we defeated the other half of Drakuulโ€™s soldiers, losing more of our own in the process. The remaining mortals, Shayds, Werelings and Night-Walkers fought with tenacity, knowing there werenโ€™t many of them left.

However, it wasnโ€™t over as Matrx released the legion of creatures to advance.

In war, there are moments where you have a moment to observe your fellow warriors around you and throughout the field, everyone watched their friends and comrades in moments of war.

Erik watched his father Hiromi, battle as if he were a mortal pumped on Wraith blood; he swung his swords swiftly and spun rapidly, utilizing his martial arts skills in full techniques. He smiled, growing proud of his father who after striking his last enemy, watched his son who released powerful blasts of his Demonic chi-energy toward his enemies. Punches and strong kicks were lashed out in between moments of the arcane release. Despite the issues between them recently, Hiromi grew proud of the man his son was on the field, but then turned his focus upon two more enemies charging at him; a Wereling who had his arm severed held an axe high in the air with his remaining hand while a Night-Walker hissed as the creature lunged forward.

Sarah and Jon fought not too far from one another; the couple watched as one another struck with their weapons of choice. Jon, loaded and packed with daggers tucked in his boots, gauntlets, armor and belt, never missed his mark hitting vital areas in vulnerable open spaces in his enemyโ€™s armor. He also utilized a special weapon he had crafted for him at the hands of Azirโ€™s kin, resembling a boomerang with four razor-sharp curved blades jutting from the center circular handle. Removing it from his belt; the blades tucked inward toward the center handle, he threw it outward in a frisbeelike manner. The weapon spun swiftly through the air in rotating-circular motions, slicing whatever enemy it made contact with. Making itโ€™s rounds through the field, the weapon returned to the young man who caught it with such ease and quickly folded the blades toward the center, tucking it back on his belt before throwing two daggers toward two Shayds that stood before him; their hands glowing ready to release their arcane magics but didnโ€™t get a chance as Jon threw his daggers.The blades hit the Shayds between the eyes.

โ€œGood aim, love!โ€ Sarah admired, then released her bowโ€™s string, sending two arrows toward two moral men that charged at her; the arrows plunged deep in their throats.

โ€œLikewise, babe !โ€ Jon observed, watching as the men fell backwards, โ€œYouโ€™re good!โ€

โ€œThank you.โ€ she grinned, having a moment to share a glance between them before they both simultaneously shouted, โ€œBEHIND YOU!โ€ as they both lunged at enemies charging toward them.

Gunmen shot their guns; the gunfire sounded like loud fireworks popping across the field. Caleb was among them and was impressive; firing bullet-after-bullet. He joked before the war began, calling himself Caleb Bond-Croft. With little tricks here and there and fancy moves on the field; rolling forward along the ground before kneeling on his knees, aiming and firing his guns, he was skilled. He was equipped with gun cartridges tucked away in their sheaths strapped around his thighs and chest and when having his guns knocked from his hand, his street style-kickboxing techniques proved effective enough. And using his Wraith strength in between, his movements and strikes were successful. Every now and then, heโ€™d flash a smile in his friendsโ€™ directions but of course while his attention was focused on looking good, he was distracted and thrown to the ground but sped to his feet, not allowing it to happen a second time.

Thomas and Anthony, as stated before with their Musketeer techniques, killed many Night-Walkers and Werelings, but not without suffering injuries of their own in the process. Thomas was wrestled to the ground by one of Drakuulโ€™s mortal burly men, punched violently across the jaw and ribs while Anthony received a deep cut on his upper left arm, interfering with his fighting but luckily he was a dual handed warrior. After striking the Wereling in front of him with a swipe of his claws to the throat, he rushed to his brotherโ€™s aid, breaking the manโ€™s thick neck. With the bulk landing hard upon Thomas, he grunted in discomfort before pushing the man off him to the side. Breathing heavily before being helped to his feet, he felt the sting and stabbing ache from his injuries. Thomas patted Anthonyโ€™s shoulder, worrying about his younger brother, and didnโ€™t pay much attention to the enemy advancing toward them from his right; a Wereling had pulled him backwards, breaking his arm and inflicted a large gash on his right thigh. Anthony growled viciously, striking the beast-man down; he plunged his sword deep through the creaturesโ€™ leather armor until the swordโ€™s blade appeared on the other side. As the Wereling slowly fell to his knees, Anthony kicked the Wereling backwards then ran toward Thomas, making temporary bandages for himself and his brother. Pushing aside their pain, they resumed their battles.

โ€œHere we go again, eh?โ€ Thomas joked.

โ€œShut up, Thomasโ€ฆโ€ Anthony grinned, pulling his brother to his feet.

Derek and Leonus had a moment back-to-back, swinging their weapons with such fierceness. For Derek, it felt good releasing his lethal skills. He had his tricks to confuse his enemy during battles, making his weapons disappear before a hidden strike was made. He was impressive and ferocious, surprising Leonus greatly. They shared a moment, exchanging nods before they parted ways. Leonus, good Heavens, was a monster on the field. I donโ€™t mean morphing into his Lycynian counterpart for the shackles upon his wrists still prevented the change, but he was a man to be reckoned with. His warring Viking roots shone through, as he swung his axe and extended his powerful legs in front kicks that knocked his enemy, whether they were Shayd, Night-Walker, Wereling or mortal to the ground. He swung his axe like it weighed nothing, decapitating his adversary. As he and Derek grew far from one another, he and Erik were near one another. Catching the scent behind him of sweat and Lycynian musk, Erik turned to the warrior behind holding his sword high ready to strike, as did Leonus holding his axe over his shoulder. They leered at one another then ran past each other, roughly brushing shoulders. Erik grunted annoyingly as he resumed.

Those using their shields; Nick and Wyatt among the warriors, were impressive as well. Taking their shields creating a block between them and their enemy, they pushed them backwards before raising the shield in a powerful strike, knocking the men or creature to the ground. And with their axes or sword, it was either plunged through a chest or cutting heads from shoulders in one swift strike. Nick and Wyatt worked alongside one another as a team, flipping their adversaries up and over their shoulders with their shields; blood splattering onto their faces, clothing and covering their weaponsโ€™ blades.

I may have learned much, whether it was physical fighting, using my half-breed arcane magics or releasing my Aura, I still struggled occasionally because I knew the limits of what I could do. But I handled myself with confidence and knowledge of what I had learned. I struck with my sword in between thrusts of my Auraโ€™s release or kicks, and it felt good unleashing that rage. Zanz and Abraxas stayed close; Zanz continued to unleash his hellhound nature upon the Shayds that ran in fear from he was their weakness as they watched their fellow comrades suffer from the massive houndโ€™s bites. Abraxas too, instilled fear because he could take form at any moment, so they couldnโ€™t anticipate his attacks for he was quite the unpredictable creature.

The Jinn were swift and skilled, gliding through the field as if it were a dance. Weapons struck their True Formโ€™s skin leaving nothing but blunt or broken blades. Their green colored magic flashed through the air in spurts here and there; their enemy turning into dust, crushed from inside out with such speed or just threw them backwards. Natash with her chain mace was a dangerous woman as was Azir and Azim, swinging with their massive Scimitar swords decapitating heads or slicing torsos in half without struggle.


Drakuul continued pacing the walkway around the lighthouse watching the events playout and growing worried for his numbers were dwindling rapidly, he grew relieved when Matrx summoned the creatures to battle. The Necromancer watched as the beasts stormed onto the field ready to fulfill their duties. He watched the skies as the Harpies flew above head, darkening the sky with their swarming maneuvers and clusters, releasing their loud-eerie screeches.

โ€œYes!โ€ Drakuul hollered in victory, releasing a guttural chuckle, โ€œYes! Kill them all!โ€ he cheered, raising his hands toward the sky releasing sparks of his green energy that the flying creatures absorbed.

โ€œAnd when will my time come, Master!?โ€ Arxulet argued impatiently.

โ€œIt will but you will wait!โ€ Drakuul turned toward the village where the fire-drake serpent perched upon the caving rooftops.

โ€œNo!โ€ Arxulet snarled, โ€œI will not! I have waited long enough!โ€ he roared and pushing himself from his perch into the air, the rooftops collapsed, โ€œThis war will end here and now!โ€

โ€œRed Death!โ€ Drakuul shouted in proclamation, โ€œArxulet!โ€ he sent his commands through the collar around the dragonโ€™s neck but the beast ignored the surge, โ€œArxulet!โ€ but his summons were ignored as he watched the serpent slither through the air toward the warring field, โ€œNo!โ€

Blue One...where are you?โ€ Arxulet called out, โ€œI am here. I am ready. Let us end this!โ€ his eyes searched the skies and grounds behind the wall but his adversary was nowhere to be seen, โ€œWhere are you?โ€


Together, working in scattered teams of multiple numbers, we gained momentum as hours passed when suddenly the sky darkened; 1200 Harpies began their swarm. Focusing our eyes on the sky, the ground beneath our feet began rumbling violently and glancing across the field, approached the dreaded Trolls and Zarooks in simultaneous advances. The Zarooks began running toward us, carrying their spiked maces and wooden clubs or bare handed; their tails rattling viciously behind them.

โ€œOh f*ck...โ€ Jon said, pausing his fight.

โ€œWeโ€™re f*cked!โ€ I added, standing nearby.

โ€œRemember their weaknesses and abilities!โ€ Azirโ€™s voice shouted telepathically, connecting to every warrior that still stood.

โ€œOh, sh*t!โ€ Caleb muttered a complaint after leaning his hands on his knees in between his previous and next kill, โ€œWill it never bloody end!?โ€ he released a low hiss.

โ€œNow the real fun starts, eh?โ€ Justin mocked standing nearby.

โ€œFun? Really?โ€ Caleb argued and turning to his friend, Justin shrugged.

As the Zarooks advanced closer, they began their attacks with their own weapons, tails, clawed hands and spewing their acidic vomit. A large handful of Nikolaasโ€™ Wraiths and Demons were sadly victims of the acid, turning into piles of bloody ash. He felt drained because he had used quite a lot of his arcane energy but the more he fought, the more rage he gathered which replenished his energy. He and other Demons from Penrith muttered chants that froze the creatures in place, allowing Wraiths, other Demons or mortals to strike at the soft patch of scales with their weapons or bare hands. As the hold upon the creatures were released, they fell heavily; their large bodies convulsed before turning to piles of green scaled-goo. Nikolaas spat at their remains, if you want to call it that, then glanced around at those with severed tails; screaming in agonizing pain as they grabbed hold onto their long rear appendages. They tried surviving long enough to attack but their blood loss was too grave as they stumbled forward, releasing low groans before their breathing ceased.

Nikolaas, working with Demons nearby, whether they were Penrith or the Isle, exchanged energy to boost their own arcane magics and it proved effective for each of them felt charged; their Demon rank tattoos glowed. Their red Demon eyes leered as they searched the field for their next enemy and it didnโ€™t take long for they came to them.

โ€œRight!โ€ Nikolaas slapped his hands together, rubbing his palms gathering magic from his core.

Among the point-of-attacks given instruction by Azir, gunmen including Caleb, aimed the barrels of their guns toward the Zarookโ€™s gaping mouths as the creatures lunged toward them, blasting the beastsโ€™ brain and skulls; chunks of green goo and brains flew across the field or ricocheted backwards onto their faces.

โ€œUgh...thatโ€™s bloody disgusting!โ€ Caleb groaned, as he stood momentarily in shock for not only were his guns covered in flesh and goo, but his face and clothing were also covered in the same mess.

Justin chuckled nearby then sped toward one of the creatures with a severed tail that knelt on its knees, reaching his supernatural hands toward the creatureโ€™s head, plunging it through the mouth that dug its teeth deep into his arm. Releasing a guttural hiss-like growl, his hand shattered the rear of the Zarookโ€™s skull; brains and goo covered his hand and upper forearm. Caleb sped forward, pushing the creature to the ground ripping its arms off while Nick ripped the tail from its spine. Justin grunted being pulled to the ground with the Zarook then quickly pulled his hand backwards; he stumbled to keep his balance but fell to the ground that was still wet and thick with mud. He examined his hand, growing a distasteful expression then shook out his hand.

The Trolls took their time approaching as their large bulks and shorter legs slowed their pace. I stood with a momentโ€™s break in between enemies breathing heavily with Abraxas and Zanz crowding near me when Erik sped toward me, catching me off guard. I sensed his presence behind me and hearing Zanzโ€™s growls I swiftly turned with sword held firmly ready to strike; my Aura fully engulfed.

โ€œWhoaโ€ฆโ€ he pleaded, โ€œwhoa, heyโ€ฆheyโ€ฆโ€

โ€œGod damn it, Erik...donโ€™t do that!โ€ I snapped, โ€œI almost killed you.โ€ then I glanced down at Zanz who continued growling, ordering firmly and quickly, โ€œHush, boyโ€ฆโ€

โ€œSorry.โ€ he moaned avoiding my Auraโ€™s heat and Zanzโ€™s massive slathering jaws, โ€œHowโ€™re you holding up?โ€

โ€œIโ€™m exhausted. Every bone and muscle in my body is shot. We still havenโ€™t defeated them. Iโ€™m just f*cking peachy!โ€ I snapped.

โ€œRight. So youโ€™re good?โ€ he attempted to joke, which received a chuckle in return. He then glanced toward the skies as the Harpies began swarming throughout the field, picking up our warriors, taking them high into the air before dropping them; their bodies fell heavy due to their armor falling to their deaths as their bodies crushed from the impact, โ€œWe canโ€™t do this much longer. You know that.โ€ Erik continued.

โ€œThank you for your opinion, Mr. Positivity! Get out of my way!โ€ I snapped, running toward Sarah who struggled to shoot her arrows toward a Zarook that charged her; Zanz and Abraxas lunged toward the creature upon my command and I swept in slicing off its tail.

The field was scattered with warriors over here and there, some further from the wall then they wanted, but no matter where we were, we all ceased our strikes when we covered our ears.Not from the screeching screaming from the Harpies but they were deafening roars of a dragon. Glancing at the sky, there it was;the Red Death slithering through the air above our heads.

โ€œOh, my god...whatโ€™s that?โ€ Sarah feared with tears in her eyes as she crouched nearby.

โ€œThat, Sarah...is the Red Death!โ€ I answered.

โ€œHow are we going to fight that?โ€ she feared continuously.

โ€œWe donโ€™t. Thatโ€™s a dragonโ€™s fight!โ€ I muttered, placing my hand on her shoulder then ran off once Jon sped over crouching alongside her, hiding behind the Zarookโ€™s bulk for coverage from their enemies. I paused searching the field for Azir and unfortunately in their True Form, the Jinn all looked alike so I reached out telepathically, โ€œAzir! Azir!โ€

โ€œIโ€™m here, Little One!โ€ his voice answered with a huff.

โ€œWhere are you?โ€ I called out, as I struck at the air trying to fight off Harpies that hovered around my petite form. Glancing down at Zanz, he jumped in the air latching onto one of the flying creatures, pulling it down to the ground by one of its wings and once at his level, he leapt forward for its throat ripping it out with one yank, โ€œAbraxas, theyโ€™re all yours!โ€ I instructed verbally, watching as the small dragon flew into the air becoming one of the Harpies with such ease and speed, he drew a massive cluster of them away from the field, engaging in a skirmish of his own. I worried but I knew without a doubt, he could handle himself against the blood-thirsty beasts.

He screeched in their natural sounds then turned, releasing dragonโ€™s breath toward the hives that surrounded him. They didnโ€™t stand a chance against the Zyphyn who not only breathed dragonโ€™s fire upon them, but spewed black acidic sludge that burned through their skin and wings, causing them to lose their motion of flight. Some fell to the ground where warriors hacked at their bodies, wings and heads. The Harpies flew erratically but wouldnโ€™t give up; Abraxas relished the challenge as he flew through the air with such speed. The Harpies were right on his tail lashing out at his wings but with his tail he morphed into view, he swiped those closest to him from their path as they struggled to regain their flight. They fell before stretching out their wings, returning for another round against the Zyphyn.

โ€œAzir!โ€ I called out once more.

โ€œI hear you! Iโ€™m coming up on your left butโ€ฆโ€ he answered then his words were interrupted once more.

I scanned the field before a Troll stomped toward me and there was Azir; hand-to-hand with a straggling Zarook and once he decapitated the creature with his Scimitar blade, he closed his eyes summoning Axeon. Seconds after, the telepathic summons were answered; Axeonโ€™s Sapphire blue scales glistening from the bright sun. He soared above the field, roaring in acknowledgement and hearing his roars, attracted Arxuletโ€™s attention immediately; his yellow eyes staring in the Blue Oneโ€™s direction.

โ€œAh, there you areโ€ฆโ€ Arxulet taunted in a low voice.

Axeon continued his flight in circular rotations above the field, watching as the battle ensued below. Our enemyโ€™s army grew courage as their General Matrx joined in the fight once more, proving he was a vicious warrior; swinging his Katanas. Many of our warriors attempted to go up against the Frenchman; even shooting their guns but they didnโ€™t stand a chance as they were slain where they stood. The bullets didnโ€™t fully penetrate his armor but remained lodged in their place. One of Drakuulโ€™s useful spells, Matrx thought at the time.

Leonus, Nathan and Anthony (despite his injuries) were among others that attacked the General but he managed to fight them off or pushed them toward straggler Werelings or Night-Walkers. Derek caught the mansโ€™ fighting techniques but noticed his flaws; he wasnโ€™t a close-combat hand-to-hand fighter. Derek proved a worthy adversary for Matrx but Derek being grabbed from behind and pulled away from the fight, focused his attention elsewhere. The Frenchman huffed as he twirled his Katanas when someone pushed him from behind and turning around with swords in hand, there stood Roberto facing him after decapitating a Night-Walker. Roberto stood breathing heavily holding onto two small axes; his eyes and fangs revealing his Wraith status. He wiped blood from his mouth; an attack on a previous Night-Walker.

โ€œMmโ€ฆโ€ Matrx stared into Robertoโ€™s eyes, โ€œI remember you.โ€ then his eyes gazed toward the sky, โ€œA Wraith able to walk in the daylight? Interesting.โ€ he said menacingly then advanced; swinging his blades full force and although Roberto blocked the Generalโ€™s movements with his axes, Matrxโ€™s Katanas sliced through the handles splitting them into four pieces.

Matrx kicked Roberto backwards with a strong front kick; Roberto moaning before shaking it off. He hissed as he threw the remaining half pieces of the axes aside, so he utilized his hand-to-hand skills; raising his fists that had lost their gauntlet-glove weapons. Clenching his fists tight and taking the Southpaw boxing stance, he beckoned Matrx forward with a grin. Matrx lunged forward with his Katanas plunging toward Roberto but the Wraith swiftly stepped aside, giving Matrx an upper-cut punch to the jaw. The General dropped his weapons as he fell to the ground, feeling the powerful ache from Robertoโ€™s supernatural impact against his glass jaw. โ€œYouโ€™re lucky youโ€™re still alive.โ€ Roberto mocked in a frenzied manner.

โ€œYeah? And whyโ€™s that, Wraith!?โ€ Matrx argued, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

โ€œBeing hit by a Wraith shouldโ€™ve knocked you unconscious so let me fix thatโ€ฆโ€ Roberto hissed then sped toward the Frenchman, kicking him violently against his armor leaving dents on the surface despite the spells and metallic surface. Matrx groaned loudly with each kick and upon seeing he laid there motionless but breathing heavily, Roberto stepped away hissing aggressively and before leaving him there, Roberto knelt alongside the General placing his hands on either side of his face, doing what Wraiths do, beginning to drain some of the manโ€™s energy. Matrx shouted feeling the withdrawal before Roberto released his grasp, breathing deeply. Smiling revealing his classic fangs and leering with his red eyes, Roberto muttered, โ€œThank you. That was just enough for a little...pick me up! But I think Iโ€™ll leave you here among your fallen men for someone elseโ€ฆโ€ he gestured around him then cursed at the Frenchman calling him a mother f*cker in his Spanish tongue, โ€œhijo de puta!โ€

Matrx laid there with his head limp to the side watching as the Wraith teleported from view. He moaned in complaint and discomfort, feeling drained with heavy fatigue as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, rubbing his jaw that ached tremendously. Removing his hands from the tender spots where the Wraith had dug his nails, blood covered his fingertips.

โ€œSh*tโ€ฆโ€ he spat to his left, โ€œletโ€™s not let that happen again, Matrx.โ€ and reaching for his Katanas he argued to himself in his own French tongue, that he wished this war would end and rid himself of all of this; even if that meant his own death on the field, โ€œJe souhaite que cette guerre se termine et me dรฉbarrasse de toutes ces conneries; mรชme si cela signifie ma propre mort sur ce champ abandonnรฉ par Dieu ... baise-moi.โ€ then standing to his feet, he scanned the field when his eyes landed upon his old adversary; Azir Jaheem Zuberi, โ€œAh...there you areโ€ฆโ€ he continued in English, โ€œfinally, weโ€™ll fight.โ€ he spat blood from his mouth once more before sprinting across the field toward the Nubian Jinn, striking down opposing warriors that stood in his way.

Azir had just slain another Zarook moments before returning to his human form when he heard a male voice shouting his name in a familiar French accent. Turning to the man who twirled his weapons, he grinned; his golden eyes squinting.

โ€œToday, I give you a scar or perhaps...Iโ€™ll take your head.โ€ Matrx grasped tighter on his weapons.

โ€œOr perhaps, I take yoursโ€ฆโ€ Azir mocked, pointing his Scimitar blade toward the General, โ€œbecause this time, I wonโ€™t be the fool Marxus was, as to being so generous with your life.โ€

Matrx grinned then they, among others still engaged in battle, fought and it was vicious. Matrxโ€™s blades were forged of Japanese metal, supposedly the strongest metal in the world other than Chinese alloys but attempting to cut through Azirโ€™s armor, they left no marks or surface scratches but instead broke in half upon the impact. Standing there baffled with broken blades, Matrx was left vulnerable; a moment Azir took advantage of spinning around swinging his Scimitar sword; decapitating the General where he stood. The nerves took a moment to realize they had been severed as the Frenchman stood blinking his eyes but taking his sword, Azir knocked his head from the manโ€™s body that quickly fell to the ground in a loud and hard thud; his armor clanking among the fall. Blood spilled from the wound, creating a thick puddle beneath the body. Azir frowned as he cleaned his blade on the fallen soldiersโ€™ pant leg then standing straight quickly adjusting his armor, he searched the field for Natash who fought nearby, trying to bring down one of the obese Trolls; her chain embedded deep in its tough hide.


As the dragons met in the sky flying around one another in taunting swerves and dodges before their official battle, Harpies that werenโ€™t engaged with Abraxas, advanced from the air swooping down. The creatures carried large boulders, dropping them on the crowded and scampering field. This war just wouldnโ€™t end. I observed the sky, watching as the dragons met but focused on the Harpies swooping down. I cursed, running toward a group of injured archers and gunmen instructing them loudly,

โ€œBring them down...bring them down! Aim for their wings...their wings!โ€ I pointed toward the sky above our heads with my sword.

The warriors heard my warning and instructions; firing and aiming their guns and arrows at the creaturesโ€™ wings that were vulnerable due to their thin skin and exposed blood vessels. Arrow-after-arrow they shot, including Sarah who struggled to keep her balance due to an injured leg, bringing down many of the hell-beasts allowing warriors to make the final strike; whatever they may have been. Heads were decapitated and wings were cut or chopped, while Zanz tore apart those that attempted to crawl away.

I backed away watching as the warriors shot their weapons then glanced around searching for Anthony but my eyes didnโ€™t find him. I worried then ran through the field in search of him but was blocked by a Troll that swung its large hooked weapon toward the ground. In between strikes of my sword I called out Anthonyโ€™s name but he didnโ€™t answer.


Among the fighting on the ground, two dragons began a battle of their own. Arxulet slithered through the air blasting fire from above, scattering warriors across the islandโ€™s landscape who searched for cover. The blasts were like bombs exploding beneath our feet; figures flung through the air and were thrown to the ground due to the invisible force that emanated from the blasts against the ground creating craters across the islandโ€™s landscape. Some, if not most, were burnt to acrisp from the raining flames. The blasts from the fires above were so loud and thunderous, warriors everywhere heard a continuous ringing in their ears, relying on their senses to aid them in the fights; the ringing lasted far too long. The fires bounced off the domes protecting the manor, stables and farm but if it continued, theyโ€™d fail and everything would burn.

Axeon released deafening roars as he flew high into the air above Arxulet and turning his body; head directed downward toward the red serpent, he closed his wings allowing him to cut through the air in a diving motion then once a few feet above the serpent, he spread his wings open; bracing his flight mid-air. Axeon was swift considering his age and past battles, whatever they may have been, swooping up and under, grabbing onto Arxulet from underneath with his feet, pulling him away from the field below. Arxulet roared as he sleekly slithered from Axeonโ€™s grip and turning up and around in a majestic slithering motion, he faced the blue dragon head on.

โ€œYou have learned.โ€ Arxulet taunted his threats telepathically, โ€œDoes not matter now. I told you I would destroy you, Blue One and I do not lie.โ€

โ€œAnd neither do I, Red Death. I as well, told you...you would not survive this war.โ€ Axeon roared his reply, โ€œSo come then...let us finish this.โ€

Arxulet squinted his yellow eyes seeing Axeon breathed heavily; flapping his wings tiredly with much effort. They released their roars and flying toward each other, they made a forceful impact as their bodies collided. Their battle was fierce from the beginning and their roars echoed through the air as teeth and claws sunk deep into each othersโ€™ scales in between spewing their fire upon one another, having no effect. Although, large scratches and bite marks were visible on their bodies and faces; purple and green blood oozing from their wounds. Axeonโ€™s wings were beginning to tire further as he attempted eluding Arxuletโ€™s swift advancements and it was then the serpent slithered down beneath Axeon cloaking from sight. Axeon turned his body flapping his tiring wings and before he could maneuver out of the way, Arxulet reappeared beneath him; mouth agape. Axeon was too slow as he tried evading but it was too late as Arxuletโ€™s massive disfigured teeth grasped onto a vital part and suddenly, a booming roar of agonizing pain amplified through the air.

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