Esvi was already approaching the 'Abode of Ravens' when the gates began to close right in front of them and the entire castle was covered by a large, slightly glowing dome of protection.
"What's going on here?!" one of the half-breeds shouted to the guards who were running in.
- Alarm! - came the answer: - There's a dragon in the city...!
The remainder of his reply was drowned out by a distant, powerful howl and the immediate sound of a powerful blow. Esvi turned in his saddle in fear and saw huge tongues of bright white flame rising above the rooftops, along with an overwhelming column of smoke and dust.
Esvi pointed his fingers at the two half-breeds:
- You both stay with the prisoners! The rest, follow me!
*****
Despite my attempts to stop it, the dragon began to exhale again. A furious gust of white flame pinned me against the rubble and managed to burn through the wood. Blowing away the remains of my dark elven clothing, it began to scorch my flesh. And this despite all the effort I'd put into defending myself!
I instantly generate a powerful healing spell and don't just apply it to myself, but set it to continuous generation. The pain of my burning and regenerating flesh is horrific. With an effort of will, I distance myself from her and, while defending myself, continue preparing my attack: obeying my will, the roots of the magical tree grow underground, creating a vast network. For now, this is the only thing that's guaranteed to work.
The white flame was incredibly bright. I felt as if I were floating in some kind of haze. It's worth noting here that I wasn't observing what was happening with my eyes, but with my magical vision. At that moment, the 'black semblance' was providing me with complete information about what was happening around me. Unfortunately, the white flame wasn't ordinary, but rather heavily laced with magic, so it blinded my magical vision, preventing me from seeing anything in it.
And Cassiel, apparently, knew this and took advantage of it: just as my breath began to run out and my defenses were restored, and I was about to launch a diversionary counterattack, I was suddenly grabbed again by an unseen, huge, clawed paw, torn from my roots, and hurled with all my might into a five-story building. The force of the throw was so great that I pierced the outer stonework and several interior partitions, stopping only at the next outer wall.
Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself off the floor and saw a woman huddled under the table with two small children—a girl and a boy—looking at me in fear. The next second, something massive flashed incredibly quickly ahead of me, obscuring them from my sight. And then I realized that literally half a step in front of me, the house was gone. Only an avalanche of debris and dust rushing somewhere to the right, following the enormous white wing.
As the remains of the house began to collapse right on top of me, I generously scooped up the Light and created a powerful 'impulse' that pushed the falling stones in all directions.
The dust around me was charged with magic. Without wasting any time, I pushed my roots back into the ground, immediately reestablishing contact with the powerful root system that was forming.
"Why aren't you fighting?" the dragon roared powerfully.
A strong gust of wind arose, blowing away the dust and even picking up small debris, clearing the air.
Houses were burning all around. Flames poured out of windows in streams and rushed toward the sky.
The dragon stood in front of me.
"I know the Autwy could turn the world upside down! I saw with my own eyes what remained of the Palace of the Lords! Perhaps you don't think it's possible to fight me?"
I tilt my head to my left shoulder.
And indeed. It's time to begin.
Charred black roots burst from the ground. Easily uprooting a large chunk of the house's cracked foundation, they hurled it with equal precision at Cassiel. He was distracted only momentarily before meeting it with a blow from his paw, shattering it into a multitude of fragments that sprayed in all directions. It then became apparent that the flying debris was connected by thin threads of wood. The makeshift net, in an instant, unfurled to a diameter of about forty meters and hurled itself straight at the dragon.
It happened so unexpectedly for him that he only began to react when the net covered his head and wrapped around his mouth.
After confirming that the attack had been successful, I activated the next stage of the trap: a multitude of roots burst out from under the ground, which immediately began to wrap and even swaddle the dragon, pressing it to the ground.
Watching the dragon's resistance begin to weaken, I allowed myself to smirk beneath the layer of wood.
Did it really work? Not really...
And then I saw and felt the roots begin to burn. My gaze was met with the sight of white tongues of flame bursting from beneath the dragon's white scales all over its body. Slowly but surely, it began to gain ground on me.
Watching what was happening, I thought about how the Prince clearly had many secrets, and one of them was a very powerful source of Light mana, near which Cassiel had obviously been all this time. He had been absorbing the Force for all these millennia.
And she reborn him.
The dragon lunged once, twice, and was freed.
He was beautiful. Shrouded in a brilliant white shroud of fire, the dragon spread its flaming wings and flapped them sharply in my direction. Flames erupted from its entire body and rushed toward me in a huge cloud. A veritable gust of flame formed, its focus landing on me. Running was pointless—the destruction arc was at least a hundred meters wide. Everything rushed toward me—burning debris, smoldering embers, ash, smoke...
I managed to defend myself by creating a wedge-shaped shield out of wood in front of me.
*****
The streets were in chaos. Townspeople fled in panic from the localized apocalypse unfolding behind them. People were carrying the most important things in their arms—children and armfuls of things, which, judging by the looks of it, they grabbed almost without looking.
Soldiers, humans, elves, half-breeds—the crowd ran indiscriminately. Two carriages collided in the middle of the street and, overturning, created a traffic jam, into which several more wagons crashed.
- Make way!!! - Esvi yelled at the top of his lungs.
At the end of the street, about five hundred meters away, a large white dragon could clearly be seen arching and, with a fervor that covered its eyes with an armored membrane, began to exhale a thick, furious stream of white flame. The howl of the fire was so powerful that Esvi had to make a serious effort to shout it down.
- We need to try to lure him out of the city! At any cost!
One of the half-breeds shouted:
- This is madness! We'll just die for nothing!
"Do you want to watch them die?" Esvi pointed almost furiously at the townspeople running from the nightmare unfolding behind them.
Suddenly, a dark elf woman ran out of the gateway. Her left shoulder was torn open, and even the bones were visible through the bleeding rags of flesh and clothing.
"Get out!" She shouted at the half-breeds, "Masters Vieren are here!" She turned and fired a spell from her right hand into the alleyway, looking like a small ball of black mist. A powerful blow and a scream came from there.
A satisfied grin contorted Athel's face, but then a five-foot-long wooden spike struck her left shoulder, just to the right of the joint. Its momentum knocked her off her feet, sending her flying a good five steps.
Sitting in the saddle, Esvi quickly drew his bow and nocked an arrow with a long, wavy tip. The other half-breeds followed his example.
Athel, a spike protruding from her shoulder, was trying to crawl somewhere, using only her right arm. One of the townswomen, clutching a child, ran past and stepped on her fingers, eliciting a pained cry from the dark elf.
A light elf emerged from the alley, his face twisted with hatred. A large golden sword symbol was indeed sewn onto the shoulder of his cloak.
Esvi released an arrow, and the other half-breeds followed suit. While the arrows were still in flight, the half-breed was already reaching for the next one, preparing to dismount.
And then he saw the arrows, one after another, bouncing helplessly off the shimmering shield. The mage turned in surprise to face this new threat, and...one of the arrows finally pierced the shield, piercing his right spleen. The arrow's momentum spun the mage around, revealing that the wavy arrowhead had almost completely emerged from his back.
The mage turned back to the half-breeds, but the next volley knocked him off his feet, turning him into a strange semblance of a hedgehog.
Esvi instantly dismounted and peered into the alley. It extended to the next street. It was clearly worse there than here—a continuous stream of dust and smoke. In this haze, the half-breed caught a glimpse of an elven cloak with a sword slung over his shoulder.
Having pulled the bowstring of an arrow, he shouted to his men, tensely watching the silhouettes of the townspeople darting about in the smoke:
- Help her!
From behind him he heard:
- It's already sprouted. Damn it! We need to cut it out, and quickly! Feed her the 'last chance'! And use the dagger! Otherwise, it's the end for her!
- He's kicking...
- Then hold on! I'm starting!
And the noise and din all around was drowned out by a woman's scream, full of pain.
Esvi cautiously backed up to them and dropped to one knee. Casting a quick glance at the dragon, who continued to selflessly douse something with white flame, he asked the pale Athel, whose complexion had matched that of the light elves:
- What's happening?
The elf twitched as if in a fit and exhaled:
"Someone already realized that this elf is Prince Ilthariel Autwy and notified the Prince. He sent an assassin. As far as I understand, it's a werewolf-dragon..." Without finishing, she screamed hoarsely and began to shuffle her feet on the cobblestones.
"Now, now..." said one of the half-breeds and pulled out a wooden spike with parts of the root system from it.
Esvi gritted his teeth and looked at the huge bleeding wound.
He wanted to utter a few dirty curses. But not because of the wounded Dark One. And not because if she died in their arms now, Atesh wouldn't care who was to blame...
It all came together. The Blood Prince. The ruling House of Autwy. The appearance of this highborn elf. The white armor. The Goddess of Death speaking to him. And the seemingly mad healer Elmair...
Suddenly the dragon stopped breathing and, grabbing something with his paw, threw it at one of the five-story buildings, almost immediately smashing the structure with a blow of his wing.
The resulting cloud of dust rushed down the street straight toward them. Immediately afterward, a noticeable impact and a flash of light followed. Debris began to fall from the sky nearby.
- Into the alley!!! - Esvi shouted.
They scooped up the elf and ran in. The half-breeds even managed to avoid the main cloud of dust that rushed on.
Then a loud voice reached them. They immediately realized it was the dragon speaking. However, due to the echo and distance, the meaning of his words was lost.
Atel pushed off the ground with her right hand and sat up. Looking around, she said:
- I sense that the concentration of magic is increasing...
Suddenly, something crawled under the paving stones, raising them in a wave.
She rose to her feet and, clutching the bloody rags of her jacket in her hand, ran to the corner of the house. Esvi and the half-breeds followed her.
In those seconds the street was transformed.
The dust had already settled, covering everything with a thin grey layer.
At the end of the street, Athel watched in horror as the dragon became entangled in enormous wooden tentacles, suddenly enveloped in flames, and then freed. As a cloud of white flame howled down the street, incinerating everything in its path, she grabbed the two half-breeds, frozen in terror, and, snarling, dragged them back into the alley...
*****
"Are we at least sure we're running in the right direction?" Eidael asked Viniel, who was running next to her.
- I think so... They were quite goal-oriented, - he answered.
Suddenly, the head of a huge white dragon rose above the rooftops to the right.
All five stopped and Eloril let out a breath of shock:
- Oh, my gods! How huge he is! And this is Cassiel?
The elf stubbornly lowered the corners of her mouth and, without turning around, exclaimed:
- Reta! May your arrows never miss!
The three archers lowered their heads as one:
- We won't miss.
Eloril said:
"I hope you all understand that this isn't just a dragon, but a werewolf. Any wounds will heal instantly. And I'm not sure even beheading him will solve the problem..."
The dragon rose slightly and, a few seconds later, sank below the rooftops. Immediately, the elves heard a powerful howl of fire and huge tongues of white flame shot up into the sky.
- To the roof! - Eidael screamed.
Obeying her will, a large root burst through the paving stones and reached upward. The sorceress leaped onto it, and it carried her straight to the roof of the nearest building.
The rest of the elves followed her.
Once at the top, Eidael looked back and saw four elves in cloaks retreating on another roof, two hundred meters away, with their backs to her.
"Are these them?" Eloril asked.
"Who else?" Viniel chuckled.
Almost in unison, all three representatives of House Reta raised their left hands behind their backs and drew their longbows from their sheaths. With their right hands, they drew two barbed arrows and nocked them.
With a crooked grin, the sorceress said loudly:
- Let's try to shove them into the Kingdom of Atesh. And then...
The others nodded in agreement. It was clear that after a fight with four Masters, they would all either die, or even those who survived would be wounded or weakened at best.
All five of them began to move closer to the enemy, watching as the dragon enthusiastically poured fire on, apparently, Autvii.
Meanwhile, from here there was an excellent view of the dragon and the blazing large mansion.
Eloril's every glance, cast toward the raging stream of white flame, strained to discern anything, but the brightness was so intense that nothing could be seen. Suddenly, the dragon shifted slightly to the right, and immediately a large ebony spear shot out of the fire. The projectile launched wooden tentacles toward the dragon, but they merely slid powerlessly off its scales.
Meanwhile, the masters leaped onto the nearly flat roof of a neighboring building. There, one of the elves sat down on the roof in the lotus position.
"He dove into the Astral!" Eidael cursed. She glanced at the archers, who were ready for anything. "Attack on command! Everyone shoot at one target! It will be that Magister who went into the Astral. One of his teammates will cover him. Uncle and I will hit him. If we're lucky, we'll take out both of them at once. If not..."
She didn't finish, but everyone already understood that their chances in an open confrontation with four Masters at once were slim.
Suddenly, the Master who was in the Astral Plane swayed and fell onto his back.
Eidael was about to give the signal to attack, but the magician pushed himself off the tiles and, sitting up again, pointed somewhere to the side with his hand.
Two of the Masters exchanged glances and, nodding, jumped down from the roof. Eidael smiled contentedly—now they had a pretty good chance of dealing with the remaining two, even without losses.
As the pair of Masters disappeared around the corner of a building, she waved her hand as a signal to attack and jumped to her feet.
The archers had already released their first arrows and had already nocked one more to the bowstring. The first ones hadn't even reached their target yet, but they were already sending the next ones.
The first six arrows, as they approached the seated elf's back, struck the shield and bounced off. A hemisphere of magical protection became visible.
The standing Magister turned to face the attackers and extended both hands. Mana began to flow from his palms, immediately merging with the magical shield. The second Magister leaped to his feet and, with a spin, released a long wooden spike from the palm of his right hand. It hadn't even made it halfway before Eloril knocked it down with a thin white beam emanating from his index finger.
Eidael smiled cruelly and, aiming her staff at the enemy, began pouring mana from her left hand onto the blue stone. It began to glow, rapidly gaining in brightness.
Her uncle suddenly clasped his hands together in front of him. A spark of light so brightly sparked between them that it illuminated his hands, clearly highlighting his bones.
Seeing this, the second Master also began to pump mana into the defense.
The archers stopped shooting.
The next second, Eloril opened his palms toward the enemy, and a very narrow, unusually bright white beam of light erupted from them. For a second, it connected the protective dome, which became almost opaque, with the mage's hands. Then it faded.
The magical ward, which the arrows had struck again, quickly became transparent again. The First Master removed his palms from it and intertwined his fingers. A large black lump appeared between them.
- Oh, demon! - Eloril cried out: - This is not an ordinary 'semblance', but 'black techniques'! Eidael, come on!
"It's not ready yet!" she shouted back.
Eloril cursed and raised his hands in front of him, beginning to create a magical shield. He shouted to the archers:
- Closer to us! They're going to hit the square now!!!
They ran closer and then...
The Master struck.
A black lump burst from his hands and flew in a high arc toward them. At the highest point of its trajectory, it stopped and, swelling, began to spin, releasing a veritable stream of large, palm-length wooden needles from its interior along the front of it.
Of the archers, only Viniel managed to run under the dome unharmed before the shelling began - both of his friends received several needles in their right hands.
"It hurts so much!" the younger Uril cried.
Rivule took out a dagger and began to cut the skin on his left shoulder, saying:
"Cut them out, quick!" He glanced briefly at Uril, who was trying to pull one of the thorns out of the wound, but his fingers kept slipping. He shouted, "They're taking root almost immediately—there's no way to get them out! Do you hear me? Just cut them out!"
Suddenly, a tall elf wearing the platinum-embroidered cloak of the 'Forest-Aware' appeared beside Eloril. Without looking up from pumping up his defenses, he merely glanced fearfully under the hood and exclaimed:
- Elmair?
But she only silently realized that hands were suddenly raised above her, and from somewhere below, wooden root-tentacles burst forth from under the roof. They grabbed the spinning ball and immediately crushed it. The barrage of needles ceased.
But immediately after this, Eidael screamed loudly:
- Vieren! Die!
Then, the brightly glowing blue stone at the top of her staff emitted all its accumulated energy toward the enemy in the form of a large bolt of white energy. It flew rather slowly and quickly faded in brightness as it traveled. When it reached halfway, it became apparent that the projectile was a large, colorless, transparent crystal, containing the light. Reaching the enemy's defenses, it pierced them as if unnoticed and exploded inside, filling the dome with light and fire.
A second later, the shield burst, releasing a ball of yellow flame from its depths that melted into the sky.
All that remained of both Masters was smoke.
Eloril fell to his knees, exhausted, and sighed:
- Well, well. I haven't worked this hard since I was a student...
Elmayr sat down next to the archers, who were almost blindly stabbing themselves with daggers, and, whispering something over her slender fingers, began to pull thorns out of the wounds along with small pieces of flesh from which whitish roots stuck out, immediately casting a powerful healing spell on the wounded.
When she finished, she told them:
- Keep an eye on the street: and don't miss the return of another pair of Masters.
- Oh... - the innkeeper sighed wearily: - Maybe we should dive into the Astral?
The healer looked back at the dragon, who was still pouring fire on something:
"Don't even think about it. The dark elf must have launched something there. And if that 'something' proved too much for the Master, it'll devour you without even noticing."
"What dark elf?" Eloril asked in surprise.
"The prince got himself a toy," she answered almost indifferently, rising to her feet.
Viniel exchanged meaningful glances with his friends and made the sound 'Ow' with his lips.
Here Uril, who was watching the street, said:
- There's one! He's wounded!
Everyone ran to the edge of the roof and looked down.
The Master was missing his right arm and his clothes were torn.
"Alive!" Elmayr commanded.
Three archers simultaneously fired arrows, piercing both knees and the wounded man's left shoulder. The Master screamed, but before he could fall, a large wooden spike pierced his thigh.
The mage, apparently overcoming the terrible pain, raised his remaining left arm and prepared to strike with magic from the ground, but Elmayr was already down and, running up to the prone Magister, kicked him in the face. The blow didn't kill him, but it knocked him unconscious.
Immediately after this, the Healer touched the thorn, coaxing it to stop its expansion. The others ran to her.
"Where's the fourth?" Eloril asked warily, nocking an arrow onto his bowstring.
The dragon paused, and everyone turned to see the monster slash its paw at the charred figure standing before it. It was thrown straight into a house at the end of the street where the elves were. Immediately after, the dragon struck the building with its wing, shattering most of it into rubble.
A large cloud of dust rushed down the adjacent street. A brief, bright flash of light erupted inside the collapsing building, scattering debris in all directions.
The dragon stood up and said something loudly.
Eloril asked:
- Shall we help?
In response, the healer only silently pointed to how the roots were spreading out around the paving stones in waves.
The next second, the Prince began his attack.
First, a net burst out from inside the fragment, which was harmless to the dragon, and wrapped itself around the dragon's mouth, and then roots rose from the ground around it, beginning to swaddle the monster.
Elmayr lowered her head slightly and said:
- And the firmament will rise up against the enemies of Autv...
- Yes! - the archers shouted triumphantly: - Victory!
But the mages didn't share their joy. They had been told of the secrets of House Vieren, of the cruelty and calculation of Prince Eriran. Therefore, they didn't believe everything would be so easy.
But what happened a little later was a surprise to everyone - the dragon began to release white flames from the entire surface of its body.
The magical wood burned and quickly gave in, losing ground.
The fire began to rise in a huge, slowly dying column. Feeling its heat, the elves backed away in unison, their eyes fixed on the incredible sight of the dragon rising on its hind legs and spreading its wings.
And then it all broke away at once and rushed away from the monster towards them.
A terrible howl and whistle arose.
- Into the alley!!! - the healer screamed and grabbed the captive under the arm.
Fleeing from the rolling wave of fire and ash, townspeople rushed about in the streets, trying to hide from the approaching death, preventing the elves from making their way to salvation.
They almost made it.
*****
Now the gust has died down and the flame has gone out, leaving behind only hot smoke and ash.
But the very next moment the dragon struck with its paw from above, slamming me into the hot, crackling debris.
I could see that the scales on his body were raised and tongues of flame were bursting out from underneath them.
A huge dragon's face emerged from the haze above and froze in front of me at a distance of just a couple of meters.
I began to sprout roots from my body again. Besides planting them in the ground, I tried to grab his paw again, but they burned away before they could do anything.
The dragon snorted contemptuously and spoke:
- But do you know what? It was I who killed Aviléa! - I even froze from this statement. He continued: - I came to her and asked for her hand. Everything was according to custom! But she rejected me! - He pulled back slightly and exhaled: - Me! And then, in my rage, I broke her! - I felt a void form inside me, which quickly began to fill with rage. The dragon continued to speak, and his words fell into my mind like boulders into a quiet pond: - Damned Autvii! How I hate you! You killed me! I was kidnapped from my nest and brought to this damned Great Forest of yours! And then you killed me! But I did not die! I ended up in the same body with this pathetic Cassiel. He was not ready for this, and I devoured him from the inside, and then took his place. And then I began to take revenge. - He snapped his jaws: - Oh, it was so sweet that it was even cloying! Watching you suffer and laughing! That fool Eriran still thinks that I'm still his son! Ha! Pathetic, limited wingless ones! - He brought his head closer to me again: - I took revenge on your people by killing your sister. I knew that your sister was very dear to you. Eriran and I knew that you would be broken by her death and waited for you near your family tree. But Death itself took you practically an instant before your death... Then I was furious! And without thinking, I devoured that idiot! For his murder, I was put in a cage! But it was even pleasant... When Eriran came to me, I saw his pain and horror. The suffering of that creature whose soldiers kidnapped me from the nest! It brightened my loneliness. And then I sowed the seed of lust for power in his mind. And it bore fruit. Eriran wanted to sit on your throne. And I got another chance for revenge. The thought of your people killing each other warmed me for centuries. - He grinned. - But not only. Memories! Yes! Of how I laughed when that flighty girl's guards tried to get to her body! And the soldiers of my House shot them down like partridges!..
I started to twitch in rage, but it was all useless.
I release the Light mana and form a powerful 'impulse'.
The ground around was crushed and pressed in. Debris was swept away. Cobblestones were uprooted and thrown aside.
But the dragon, bathing in the flow of energy, only laughed:
- Fool! Light can never be defeated by Light!
And I, being blinded by my rage, turned to other Forces.
The first to respond, oddly enough, wasn't Death. But Darkness. A pitch-black mist erupted from my body in all directions. It embraced me in a warm, wet embrace.
The dragon roared and pulled its paw out of the fog: my gaze was met with gnawed flesh glowing with white light - in those seconds the darkness had devoured its scales and even its skin.
The monster clenched his fingers into a fist in bewilderment:
- How long has it been since I felt pain...
Here the flesh began to regenerate: the skin grew in patches. Even the scales were restored. True, they were small, like a fish's.
The next moment, Death mana burst out of my magical gift and struck him in the chest like a long, narrow rod, piercing his scales and throwing him back.
The dragon fell heavily, straight onto its wings. The long rod curved and snapped sharply, yanking me out of the cloud of Darkness and hurling me straight onto the monster above.
Suddenly the dragon raised his head slightly and, looking at me in a completely different way, said:
- Kill me, Iltariel...
What the? Is this Cassiel?
But a second later, the monster shook its head. Squinting its glowing white eyes, it looked at me and growled:
- You cannot kill me! I am truly great!
I sighed heavily and said:
- There is one way... I will take back what I gave you. And then you will die.
The dragon tried to scoop me off his chest with his paw. I managed to react and leaped over it. As I fell onto the scales, I remembered what had happened two and a half thousand years ago, and, channeling Life Mana into my hand, I immediately struck him in the chest with an open hand.
My fingers pierced the flaming scales and sank into the flesh. At that moment, I began to draw his very essence, what I had once given him, into myself.
The dragon roared and tried to strike me with its paw. The blow could have easily crushed me, but not at that moment, when its power began to flow into me. All it could do was knock me down, but it didn't break contact.
In despair, he rolled onto his paws and, powerfully flapping his wings, rushed like a candle into the sky.
The jerk was very sharp and strong, but it was useless.
The dragon, in its death throes, continued to soar upward, flapping its wings wildly. I saw the low, heavy clouds rapidly approaching.
And at one point he lost consciousness and began to fall down.
The wind howled in my ears.
Luckily, the air resistance flipped me over and I ended up on top when I fell.
*****
Elmayr, her clothes charred, said, looking up at the sky:
- And even the heavens will become their sword...
*****
We fell back onto a scorched patch of land surrounded by fires.
The impact of the dragon's body on the surface threw dust and smoldering debris to the sides.
I took a deep breath.
A cold rain poured down from the sky, quickly turning into a downpour. Under its pressure, the fires blazing around us began to die down. Large drops fell heavily around us, immediately evaporating with a toxic hiss.
As if under the influence of water, the dragon's body began to melt rapidly, gradually transforming back into an elf. I couldn't help but slide off the flesh onto the hot ground.
When the changes were complete, Cassiel suddenly opened his eyes and whispered:
- I'm sorry and... thank you, brother.
His gaze stopped.
Kneeling beside his body, I raised my face to the heavy clouds and said bitterly:
- Oh, Atesh... Why is this happening to me?
Cold drops fell indifferently on my eyes.