The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage: Wandmaker Vol.2

Interlude WM [96.5] Princess's Gambit Part 2

The skies above the battlefield were chaos, the closest thing to the Infernal a living being can get. It was a swirling storm of wings, spells, and blood. Wendigo wyvern knights of the combined Noble factions fought desperately against the surprise offensive of druids riding griffons and cockatrices. The wendigo force had been taken by total surprise by a much larger and well prepared invasion force.

The two sides' forces locked in deadly spirals that sent riders and mounts alike plummeting to the blood-soaked earth below. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burning flesh, the screams of the dying, and the thunderous roar of clashing magics. Above it all, a shimmering aurora rippled unnaturally across the sky, the telltale sign of a mana storm brewing from the overload of spells tearing through the battlefield.

Heimdall, a young wyvern knight of the Frostfang division, clung tightly to the reins of his mount, a slate-gray wyvern named Skarn. He was nearly frozen in place from the carnage his eyes saw. His spear, cracked and charred from deflecting fire spells, felt like dead weight in his hands as he scanned the chaos. Around him, his comrades were falling. A cockatrice rider tore through their flank, its venomous beak piercing a wyvern's throat. A bolt of searing lightning shot from a druid mage atop a pegasus, a wyvern knight was struck, a hole burned through his form mid-air.

"We're losing!" Heimdall shouted, his voice nearly drowned by the deafening roar of the storm.

His wyvern screeched in agreement, banking hard to avoid a griffon slashing its talons toward them. He snapped into action as a blade of ice exploded overhead sending sharp shrapnel into him. Most of them were blocked by his armor but some managed to dig deep through the blue steel. He yelled a spell at the same time he pulled Skarn into place. The rider and the Familiar released a torrent of fire towards the mage that shot the ice spell.

Wounded but not dead the ice wizard fled only to be replaced by other wizards firing their own spells and forcing Heimdall to retreat or be overwhelmed. Below, the wendigo ground forces were faring no better. Druids wielded nature's fury, entangling soldiers with roots that burst from the ground, impaling them with jagged stones. The druids in their ambush were already prepared with artillery magics before the fight even started. The wendigo warriors fought valiantly, but they were being pushed back, forced to give ground with every death dealt.

Then he saw it. A white shape streaked across the sky, moving faster than anything he had ever seen. For a moment, he thought it was a trick of the aurora, a fragment of light playing tricks on his eyes. That was proven wrong as it descended, the shape grew larger, more defined. A dragon. Not a wyvern, not a griffon, not some lesser beast of war but an actual dragon.

The battlefield seemed to hold its breath. Both wendigo and druids paused, stunned by the sight of the pale monstrosity cutting through the storm-laden skies. The dragon's wings spread wide, blotting out the aurora's shimmering light as it dived straight into the heart of the druid aerial formation.

"What... what is that?" Heimdall whispered, his grip tightening on Skarn's reins.

The dragon tore into the druids like a winter gale through autumn leaves. Its claws raked through a pair of griffons, their riders screaming as they plummeted to the ground. It's jaw ripped a rider off his mount in a shower of blood. Its tail lashed out, striking a pegasus mid-flight and sending it crashing into a cockatrice below. Druids scrambled to regroup, their spells turning toward the new threat, but the dragon moved with terrifying speed.

Then it opened its maw. A torrent of pale, withering breath poured forth, a mist of death that consumed everything in its path. A contingent of druids quickly went to contain the creature with shimmering shields. However when they approached there was a ripple in the air and the magic shields crumbled instantly. Right after the breath drained the life from both riders and beasts. The dragon's anti-magic aura flowed outward, disrupting spells mid-cast, leaving the druids vulnerable as it descended upon them with claws and fangs.