Blackheart

Hope

Alexander stared in amazement at the admittedly incredible scene before him.

The assembled forces of Palethorn had spent a lengthy amount of preparation putting this plan into action, and it showed.

The horrific monstrosity that guarded the gates was dying. He could tell.

Earlier before, they had gathered every koutu and dragonoid that could fling a spell or fire a bow and had them sneak around the entrance plaza and fly up into positions on rooftops surrounding it. Afterwards the main force of volunteers, consisting of bowmen and magicians belonging to any species who couldn't fly, took to the streets.

Once the signal was given, the archers and magicians stormed the plaza and opened fire, drowning the monster in a sea of projectiles.

Crossbows, arrows, knives, javelins, ice shards, lightning and balls of fire...scores of them flew from all around the area and landed onto a single target...that unholy monstrosity that had been preventing their escape since the beginning.

The terrible beast screeched as the survivors pelted it with dozens of projectiles, a dark ooze beginning to pour from the worst injuries down its wretched, ever-shifting flesh.

It was working. It was mortal now! It COULD be hurt! It COULD be slain!

As the beast attempted to recover and respond to the ambush, the next part of their plan sprung into action.

Two green dragons emerged from the alleys behind the attacking force, flying past them and crashing into the monster. The three behemoths struggled as the dragons fought the demon, using their razor sharp talons to shred through the monstrosity's flesh.

The two dragons pinned the monster to the floor, its various limbs flailing and mouths screeching as the father and son drove their claws into it time and again.

In what seemed no time at all, the unspeakable terror ceased moving. It stopped screaming, and a thick, viscous ooze pooled around it as it lay motionless.

The bolts, arrows and magic came to a halt.The two dragons got off of the fallen demon and backed up, staring at the thing curiously.

"It is...over?" Basilrin asked cautiously.

Aurelio nodded. "Indeed. Without immortality, it falls like any other."

"I...expected a very difficult battle."

"It would have been, if not for our wise companions. There is strength in solid numbers and cunning tactics."

Basilrin let out a short, nervous laugh. "I suppose not much can stand up to a firing squad..."

"Well...looks like that's sorted," Andric noted, a hint of surprise hanging on his words. The older man stood beside Alexander, claymore drawn and resting on his shoulder plate...though it seemed he never even needed to bother.

"You've commanded military forces before."

Alexander turned to look at Crux. He raised a brow at the other man's words.

"Was that a question?"

"A statement," the bounty hunter replied, "I can tell."

"Well...you're not wrong."

A koutu leapt off of a nearby house, landing gracefully with his wings at his side...and a bow clutched in one of them.

With the short, vibrant red cape and white robe, it took only a moment for the knight to identify the bird as Razorwing.