Indura walked alongside the Chief, the cold night air brushing against their faces, the flickering torches lining the path casting long shadows across the cobblestones. The questions in Indura's mind pressed against his curiosity. "Tell me, Chief," he began, his voice low, even, carrying both respect and challenge, "what will happen once the news of your work spreads beyond your kingdom? Don't you think telling me about your weapon is… a wrong choice? You hate humans, after all."
The Chief's gaze was steady, almost piercing in the torchlight. A warm, deliberate smile touched his lips, betraying a flicker of amusement at the audacity of this human—or whatever Indura was. "You are right," he said slowly, his voice calm but edged with an undertone of steel. "It is not right for me to reveal my secrets to the kind that I despise. But you… Something about you tells me it is worth the risk. How much trouble can you really cause?"
Indura studied the Chief, tilting his head, letting a small smile curve his lips. There was a rhythm to the man, a weight behind his words, and Indura sensed a hidden amusement lurking beneath the surface. "I see," Indura murmured, his tone carrying curiosity more than argument.
"Come, then. Let us discuss this inside."
The building they entered exhaled heat and shadow. Darkness pooled in corners, while firelight danced across walls lined with stone and metal, faint embers sparking along the ceiling. The room ahead was sparse but purposeful—a simple bed, a small table, and the faint scent of smoked meats lingering in the air. The Chief gestured toward the bed, his smile softening slightly. "Rest here for the night. My cooks will prepare a meal for you."
Indura inclined his head, voice calm but tinged with gratitude. "I appreciate your hospitality, Chief. I have had a long journey… rest is indeed demanded." The Chief nodded once and stepped back, closing the door behind him. Indura exhaled softly, his eyes sweeping the dim room. "Well… what an interesting day this has been. To think someone would wish for my death. Fascinating," he murmured, a faint smile teasing the edges of his lips.
A soft knock echoed through the quiet. "Excuse me, I have brought your meal," a gentle voice called from outside.
Indura's smile widened with amusement, the light in his eyes catching the firelight. "Ah, my meal. I am starving. Come in, kind one."
The servant entered, carrying the tray with care—meat, radishes, and a drink that steamed faintly in the cool air. "Enjoy your meal," she said with a soft, warm smile before retreating into the shadows of the hall.
Indura examined the meal, lifting the drink to his nose. "Hhhmm… meat, radishes, and… a drink unfamiliar, yet pleasant." He took a careful bite, savoring the flavors, and a laugh escaped him as he drank the bottle down to the last drop. "Delicious… and what an interesting drink. Not like the palace, but still… fine. Quite fine."
He lay back on the bed, the firelight casting flickering patterns across his face. "Perhaps… I will let them be," he murmured, contemplating the Chief's intentions, his mind wandering even as sleep beckoned. The town outside was still; the moon painted silver over quiet rooftops. Peace reigned—or at least the illusion of it.
But shadows did not sleep. Dark, muscular forms moved with precision through the streets, leaping from roof to roof until they reached the building where Indura rested. Short figures, wiry and strong, they entered the shelter quietly, intent on the task at hand.
Indura's eyes opened slowly, golden orbs catching the faint firelight, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hhooo… interesting. Truly interesting," he murmured, letting his voice carry amusement rather than fear. "Perhaps fate is not on your side, little dwarves." He sat up on the bed, calm, watching them approach.
The dwarves advanced with practiced stealth until one burst through the door, chanting sharply, "Binding magic: sealing binds!" Roots sprouted from the floor, snaking around Indura's limbs, twisting tightly to restrain him. But he did not flinch.
"What… he wasn't asleep? I'm sure the drink was imbued with a sleeping potion… how is he awake?" one dwarf whispered urgently.
Indura's lips curved in delight. "Ah… so that was the purpose? A sting in the drink. No matter. I enjoyed it thoroughly."
Another dwarf eyed the empty bottle. "Look… he drank it all. What an odd human," they muttered, doubt lacing their voice.
"It does not matter. Hold him until the Chief arrives," a dwarf spoke, tightening the binds around Indura, hands trembling slightly under the tension of obedience and fear.
A voice rumbled from outside the door, boots striking the floor with deliberate rhythm. "You thought you could enter our lands and walk free? Even though I admired your boldness earlier, you should have returned when you had the chance. There is no mercy here for your kind," the Chief's voice echoed, carrying authority and subtle irritation.
Indura's smile deepened, his posture relaxed, and his golden eyes glinted. "Well… Chief. Good to see you again," he said, voice smooth, calm, teasing almost.
The Chief stepped inside, scanning the room, eyes narrowing at the restraints that had failed to intimidate him. "You seem relaxed for someone restrained. I knew you weren't normal," he said, curiosity threading his tone.
"It does not matter, Chief," Indura replied evenly, meeting the Chief's gaze. "This is not personal. I cannot let you spread my words to your Empire. I am merely protecting my nation… You understand, yes?"
"I understand," Indura replied, suspicion etched into every line of his face.
A long silence passed, the tension coiling in the air like a drawn bow. Then the Chief's voice softened slightly, tinged with reluctant admiration. "I like you. I wish we could speak of our differences… but all things end. I do not hold any ill will toward you, and I hope you won't feel the same toward me. Tell me… do you have any last words, human, before the end?"
Indura chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with warmth and mischief. "Last words… I have none. You, on the other hand… perhaps you should consider yours."
The Chief stiffened, fear creeping into his expression, voice faltering. "What…? You think this is a joke?"
"On the contrary," Indura said, rising slowly, golden eyes glowing brighter, pupils slitting like a beast's. "I am nowhere near death… you, however…are closer to it." The binds fell away effortlessly as he stood, towering over the Chief with calm authority. "Have you… figured it out yet?"
The Chief's lips parted, disbelief and terror blending. "W-who… are you?"
"Me? Just… a passer-by," Indura replied, voice light yet deadly.
The Chief recoiled, shaking his head. "What a lie." He fell back instinctively, signaling the dwarves to attack, blades flashing toward Indura.
Indura watched the strikes, amused, almost entertained. "Oh… this is interesting," he said softly, his grin widening. Each blade bent and snapped harmlessly against his form.
"Impossible… you… " W-w-what are you?!" the Chief stammered, trembling, the room shrinking under Indura's presence.
Indura moved past the attackers effortlessly, ignoring them completely, his focus on the Chief. "You asked me about last words. I ask you the same. What are yours, oh great Chief of the land?"
The Chief's hands shook, sweat dotting his brow, voice tight.
"Before you answer… that weapon you hold… do you…wish to test it?"
Indura's grin grew, eyes glowing deep gold, pupils dilating, a faint mist curling from his breath. "Do you wish to test your weapon. Built to take the dragon down?"
"Y-you…" the Chief muttered, stumbling back, fear overtaking pride, before bolting, the dwarves scattering in panic behind him.
Indura's voice carried amusement as he watched them flee. "Well… your judgment has arrived sooner than expected," he murmured. With a graceful motion, he vanished into the night sky, the building collapsing as he ascended, leaving nothing but the echo of his laughter and the faint smoke rising in the cold air.
Panic tore through the dwarf chief like wildfire. His boots pounded the cobblestones as he ran through the winding streets, heart hammering, sweat slicking down his face and stinging his eyes. "Ring the bells!" he shouted, voice cracking with urgency. The echoes of his command bounced off stone walls. "RING THE BELLS! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!"
He reached his chambers in a frenzy, his breath ragged, chest heaving. His fingers found the hilt of his great sword, black and silver, its surface cold and familiar beneath his palms. He drew it, the weight grounding him amid the chaos. "What have I let into my kingdom…" he muttered under his breath, the words carrying disbelief, fear, and a twinge of regret.
Outside, dwarves poured into the streets, armor clinking, eyes sharp, muscles taut, weapons ready. Skilled warriors lined the roads, shields raised, axes at the ready, while women and children retreated indoors, clutching one another in tight clusters. The chief, fully armored, emerged from his chambers, every movement radiating authority, his presence enough to rally the defenders. "Priests! Look after the rear! Be on guard!" he barked, his voice cutting through the rising panic.
The dwarf units matched through the streets in disciplined lines, each one scanning shadows and rooftops, alert to the slightest movement. The chief raised his voice above the clamor, the metal of his sword catching the torchlight. "Come out, you curse of monstrosity… SHOW YOURSELF!" His tone was equal parts fury and command, reverberating through the narrow streets, demanding acknowledgment from the enemy.
High above, beyond the clouds, Indura hovered silently, his golden eyes reflecting the constellation-strewn sky. The world below was a tapestry of lights, fires, and movement, but he allowed himself a moment of admiration. The winds are as sharp as ever, the stars piercingly bright. The night is serene, beautiful… perfect for the storm I intend to unleash. "Ah… what a joyous occasion," he murmured, voice low, almost reverent, a wide grin splitting his face as anticipation curled through him.
For centuries, he had existed in this world as a shadow, a whisper of legend. Nations rose and fell around him, yet he remained detached, indifferent, untouchable. And now… the dwarves, those meticulous architects of fire and steel, had recognized his existence. Perhaps they had suspected him, perhaps they plotted his demise. The thought stirred a dark amusement deep within him. For six hundred years, he had lived, unchallenged, solitary… and tonight, he would leave a mark that the world will not ignore.
With a graceful tilt, Indura let himself dive. His gaze never left the stars as he plummeted, the wind whipping around him, a roaring chorus against the calm of the night. His body ignited in red mana, flames licking the edges of his form as the raw power surged from deep within. Muscles rippled and stretched, scales emerging as if drawn by invisible hands, spikes erupting along his back in a symphony of destruction.
His abdomen and tail coiled and stretched, the air vibrating with his growing presence, until finally his jaw extended, sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight, and his eyes blazed with golden fire, aura spilling outward in waves. With a thunderous beat of wings that could have split mountains, Indura fully manifested into his dragon form, immense and terrifying.
He spread his wings wide, the red glow of his mana coursing along the membranous surfaces, and increased the speed of his dive. The wind screamed past him, and the world below seemed to shrink in comparison to his immense, predatory grace. Every thought, every motion, every heartbeat carried the anticipation of annihilation, the thrill of chaos and domination. Tonight, the dwarves would face Judgement.