99 AC / 54 HA
Octavian
The massive beast circled above the crowded thoroughfare, preparing to rain a second wave of fire upon our exposed legionaries and the shadow-possessed alike. I needed to act fast before the devastation became absolute.
"Princeps, your command?" Claudius demanded, his scarred face grim as he watched over his dying men.
Above us, the Blood Wyrm shrieked, folding his leathery wings as he began another lethal descent into the fray. I had no time to issue vocal orders. I brought forth my wand.
"Protego Maxima. Fianto Duri," I cast simultaneously, mapping Caraxes' trajectory and anchoring the wards across the broken vanguard.
The dragon plummeted, spewing a blinding torrent of scorching flame directly at the shattered testudo. This time, however, the hellfire did not reach my soldiers. A shimmering, bluish dome flared into existence, catching the apocalyptic heat and rippling as it violently repelled the blast.
His dive thwarted, Caraxes pulled up sharply, his massive claws tearing into the stone masonry as he landed forcefully upon the upper battlements. The beast flared his blood-red wings, letting out a piercing, serpentine trill at the surviving crowd below. I did not understand the dragon's intent, but this was certainly no mindless feeding frenzy. With a powerful thrust of his hind legs, Caraxes took to the sky once more, banking sharply toward the northern interior of the city.
"Dominus, Paladin Maria and her legion are pushing through the northern districts," Claudius shouted over the roaring fires. "That is precisely where the beast is headed."
His words made my blood run cold. The dragon was a force of nature, far too powerful for even a Paladin of the Cult to withstand. Had I not been here, the entire contingent in this avenue would be blowing ash.
"I will go after him," I decided, spurring my warhorse forward. "Agrippa, Claudius. I trust you can secure this sector without me?"
The two generals offered solemn, blood-stained nods.
I tore away from the vanguard, riding hard through the labyrinthine streets toward the northern walls. The night sky above Qohor was no longer bruised black; it was painted in violent strokes of orange and crimson from the spreading fires, contrasted sickeningly by the glowing, thrumming green runes still active along the battlements.
As I rode deeper, a violent, tectonic rumble shuddered through the cobblestones. It was not the dragon. It was a massive seismic shockwave radiating from the very centre of the city, powerful enough to crack the stone foundations beneath my horse's hooves. Entire sections of burning manses crumbled into the streets around me, but I paid the falling masonry no heed. I kept my spurs driven hard into my mount's flanks.
When I finally breached the northern square, I rode straight into a nightmare.
Caraxes was circling low, his unearthly shrieks echoing over the frantic shouts of the Imperial legionaries. It was a gruesome, pitiful sight to watch mortal men attempt to face down a dragon. They were disciplined, brave warriors of Rome, but courage meant nothing against a primordial furnace. Men screamed as liquid fire washed over their formations. The stench of roasting flesh and melting iron was suffocating.
At the edge of the inferno, rallying the survivors behind the crumbling ruins of a massive stone bathhouse, stood Paladin Maria.
She was an imposing figure, standing every bit as tall as I did. Even through the soot and gore, her bespoke silver armour gleamed, etched with intricate golden trails that led inward to the heavy, embossed symbol of the Imperial Cult upon her breastplate. Her black hair was plastered to her diamond-shaped face with sweat and dark blood, her fierce brown eyes scanning the sky. The left side of her armour was scorched black from a near-miss, the metal warped and radiating heat, but she did not falter.
"Loose!" she roared.
A volley of iron-tipped shafts snapped upward from the surviving archers. A dozen arrows found their mark, sinking into the Blood Wyrm's crimson scales, but they looked like mere splinters against his massive bulk. Caraxes was barely bothered. He snapped his long, serpentine neck, letting out a deafening trill that rattled my teeth, before banking for another diving pass.
I rode my horse directly into the cover of the ruins, vaulting from the saddle. "Maria!"
She spun, her sword raised, before her eyes widened in recognition. "Princeps!"
"Take your men and fall back immediately!" I commanded, my voice amplified over the roar of the flames. "Withdraw deeper into the city. Get out of the open!"
Maria stepped forward, her jaw set with fanatical stubbornness. "I will not abandon you, Dominus. I will fight by your side. The Cult does not flee!"
I grabbed her silver pauldron, my grip iron-clad. I did not have the time or the patience for zealotry. "Your duty is not to protect me, Paladin. Your duty is to lead this legion and ensure they do not die a pointless, burning death! I am your Princeps, and I am giving you a direct order. Retreat!"
She flinched at the absolute severity in my tone. Her brown eyes searched mine for a fraction of a second, fighting her innate desire to protect the Imperial bloodline, before military discipline won out. She slammed a bloody gauntlet over the Cult symbol on her chest.
"By your will," she gritted out. She spun toward the terrified legionaries. "Break formation! Fall back into the narrow streets! Move!"
The men did not need to be told twice. They scrambled backward, abandoning the open square for the cover of the dense, stone-built alleys.
Above us, Caraxes shrieked. The Blood Wyrm saw the prey scattering and folded his massive wings, entering a terrifying, sheer dive directly toward the retreating, vulnerable rear-guard of Maria's legion. His jaws unhinged, a glowing, white-hot furnace igniting in the back of his throat.
I stepped out from the cover of the ruins, planting my boots firmly in the ash-covered cobblestones. I raised my ashwood wand, aiming directly at the descending mass of crimson scales. I poured my magical reserves into the spell, visualizing pure, unrestrained devastation.
"Confringo!"