Dragon Savior A New Beginning ( Update Version)

Shattered Serenity (38)

The news from the soldier sank into the Keeper's mind like a knife pressed to bone. Cesar failed. The words echoed through him with a quiet fury that no flame could match. Bone still lived—that defiant creature whose mere existence defied order. Time, once an ally, had turned traitor. The Castle Keeper rose from his throne, the hem of his cloak whispering against the blackened stone. His fingers curled around the snath of his obsidian scythe, the weapon humming faintly—as though it, too, sensed the blood that would soon be spilled.

" If the king cannot finish his own mistakes," he murmured, " then I shall."

When he entered the courtyard, the air was cold enough to bite. His vanguard was already assembled—soldiers in layered armor etched with runes of binding and restraint. Their eyes gleamed behind dark helms, reflecting the torches that quivered in the wood.

" Form ranks," the Keeper commanded. His voice rippled through the night like a current of iron. " We ride for the north ridge. The beast will not see dawn."

A thousand hooves thundered against the cobblestones. The gates of the castle yawned open, and the company poured into the darkness beyond. The banners of the Keeper—black and crimson—streamed in the wind, catching the faint glow of moonlight as they thundered across the plains.

Through the long hours of night, the Keeper rode ahead, the scythe across his back radiating a ghostly hum. No words were spoken. The men had all heard the same whispers—that the Keeper himself could command death if he willed it. Tonight, they would see for themselves. At last, the jagged cliffs of the VulcanFire border loomed before them. There, a cave gaped wide—Bone's den, pulsing faintly with inner firelight. The smell of sulfur and ancient blood hung thick in the air. The Keeper dismounted, boots sinking into ash and damp earth.

" Hold the line," he ordered. " You will not kill the beast until I give word."

The vanguard raised their shields, each engraved with shimmering sigils that flared to life—a circle of light encircling the cavern's mouth. They began their incantation: low, rhythmic, heavy like a drum. Blue fire rippled from shield to shield, forming a barrier to trap the creature inside. A silence fell—the kind that only comes before ruin. Then, the ground trembled. Bone's roar erupted from the depths—a sound born of fury and agony, shaking the mountainside itself. The Keeper's soldiers held their line, spears poised, as the dragon emerged from the abyss: massive, scarred, his metallic scales streaked with molten light. His wings scraped the ceiling, eyes burning with defiance.

" Contain it!" The Keeper shouted.

Bolts of lightning streaked forward. The air filled with the clash of iron and fire. The vanguard's enchanted weapons tore into the shadows around Bone, each strike sparking bursts of blue flame. The dragon fought like a storm unchained—tail sweeping, claws raking, a wall of heat and fury that sent men tumbling. But the Keeper pressed forward, each step deliberate, his scythe glowing brighter.

" Enough," he intoned, raising the weapon high. The blade came down in a sweeping arc, and with it, the magic circled blazed white. The sound that followed was deafening—a crack like the heavens splitting.

Bone roared one last time, a sound that tore through stone and soul alike, then staggered. The light drained from his eyes, his breath growing shallow as he sank to the ground. The cavern fell silent. When the echoes died, only embers and smoke remained. The soldiers stood motionless, their faces reflecting both triumph and unease. The Keeper lowered his weapon and stepped toward the fallen dragon. For a brief, fleeting moment, his gaze flickered with something like respect.

" Even titans fall," he whispered. Above, through the rift in the cavern roof, a single crow descended. Its wings spread wide, black as pitch, before it landed upon the hilt of the Keeper's scythe.

It cawed once, sharp and final—the sound of a soul being claimed. As the Keeper turned away, the crow took flight again, circling the fallen dragon before vanishing into the night. With it went Bone's spirit—carried into the unseen, into the place between life and legend. Behind them, the cavern glowed faintly, as if remembering what it had just witnessed. The Keeper didn't look back. He simply raised a hand, signaling a retreat.

" Leave the body," he ordered. " Let the fire finish what we began."

And so they rode away into the endless dark—the light of their torches fading one by one—leaving only the whisper of wings and the smoldering embers of a dragon's end.