Ex rank talent Awakening: 100% Dodge rate

Drakonix soared through the skies with furious speed, the wind howling in his ears as his massive wings cleaved through the air. His heart pounded in his chest, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer urgency burning inside him. Only one thought consumed his mind—he had to reach Rebecca and Alfred, no matter what.

As the human clan's territory came into view, Drakonix didn't bother with stealth or subtlety. He didn't glide low or hide behind the clouds like he usually did when entering foreign lands. This time, he flew straight above the watchtowers, bold and exposed, as though daring the world to stop him.

Below, alarm bells rang out. The guards on patrol spotted the massive shadow slicing across the sky, and panic took hold. Shouts of warning echoed throughout the barracks as men scrambled to grab weapons. Seeing a dragon flying directly into the heart of their capital, they could only assume the worst.

"DRAGON! SOUND THE ALARM!"

Within seconds, a barrage of magical arrows and enchanted spears launched into the sky, glowing trails illuminating the twilight. Energy blasts whizzed past him. Some struck true, tearing through the air and slamming into his scaly hide. Sharp pain erupted across his body. For reasons he couldn't understand, the human weapons—once too weak to even scratch him—were now piercing his once-impenetrable scales.

He growled, his instincts screaming at him to retaliate, to incinerate them all and leave nothing but ashes in his wake. But he forced himself to stay the course. Rebecca and Alfred were his priority. Not these misguided soldiers.

The pain throbbed and worsened, and still, he pressed on, adrenaline numbing the wounds that bled in streaks down his massive frame.

BOOM!

A massive bolt from a ballista, laced with runes, tore through one of his wings, shredding the delicate membranes. Drakonix let out a thunderous roar as his balance faltered. The skies tilted violently. He spiraled down uncontrollably, the castle looming beneath him.

CRASH!

He plummeted into the castle gardens like a falling meteor, dirt and marble erupting into the air as his body slammed into the earth. Statues shattered. Trees splintered. The ground trembled under his weight.

The air was filled with smoke and panic. Within moments, a battalion of soldiers flooded the courtyard, their weapons trained on the massive dragon. Spears, bows, and swords aimed at his chest and throat. Fear radiated from them—but so did resolve.

They knew what a dragon could do. The destruction, the fire, the death. And yet, they stood their ground, ready to give their lives if needed.

Drakonix groaned and raised his head, brushing debris off his snout with a low grunt. His vision swam, his body aching and bleeding. But he had no time to tend to his wounds.

"Rebecca… Alfred…" he growled, his voice pained, desperate. "Get out of my way—I need to get to them!"

The soldiers glanced at each other, confusion and alarm flashing in their eyes. None moved. Their grips tightened on their weapons, and their formation subtly shifted, the circle around him drawing closer.

They didn't understand.

They thought he was lying.

Drakonix's golden eyes narrowed. "MOVE!" he bellowed, smoke curling from his nostrils. "I don't have time to waste! They'll die if I don't get to them NOW!"

His voice thundered through the garden, the sheer power of his tone shaking windows and hearts alike. The soldiers hesitated, glancing at one another again, but none dared lower their guard. To them, it could still be a trick—a desperate beast's bluff.

Frustration boiled within Drakonix. His patience thinned, rage threatening to burst loose. He opened his mouth, flames dancing on his tongue, ready to turn the fools into cinders if they dared delay him further—

"Drakonix?!"

The voice froze him mid-breath.

His head snapped toward the castle steps.

King Alfred.

Dressed in royal robes, his silver hair slightly tousled from having just risen, the king stood tall and composed despite the chaos. His calm, steady gaze locked onto the mighty dragon.

"Why are you here, old friend?" Alfred asked, his tone caught between concern and disbelief.

Drakonix exhaled the fire from his mouth, the blaze dissipating into embers. Relief flooded him at the sight of the one man who could make sense of this madness.

"Alfred! Thank the stars—you need to get Rebecca, NOW! We don't have much time!"

Alfred frowned, walking slowly toward him. "What's going on? Why the urgency?"

The soldiers, realizing the familiarity between them, began to ease their stance—though unease still clouded their expressions.

Drakonix's voice trembled, not from fear, but from dread. "There's no time to explain everything. The major clans… they've made a pact. A purge. They're going to annihilate your people. The humans are to be wiped out—every last one of them. They'll be here soon, Alfred. We need to leave. All of us. Now."

The courtyard fell silent.

Even the soldiers lowered their weapons in shock.

Some visibly paled. Others staggered back a step, their hands trembling. The words Drakonix spoke echoed like a death sentence over the entire castle.

"Are you… are you sure?" Alfred asked, his voice low.

Drakonix glared at him, agony and urgency twisting his features. "Do you think I'd come here like this, bleeding and exposed, if it wasn't true?! I would never risk flying into enemy skies unless it was for something greater than myself. Please, Alfred—we need to go!"

But Alfred's expression didn't change. If anything, it grew… solemn. Heavy.

And then he smiled.

A sad, bitter smile.

A smile that made Drakonix's heart sink.

"No," Alfred said softly.

"What are you talking about?" Drakonix snarled. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm sorry, my friend," Alfred replied, "but I can't leave. Not like this. Not while my people are still here."

"Damn your responsibility! That same sense of duty kept you from raising Rebecca properly! It's the same duty that kept you sick, wounded, always sacrificing yourself for others while you rot inside! And now, again—again, you choose to stay behind?!"

Drakonix's voice cracked with raw emotion. "Please. Just this once… choose yourself. Choose her."

But Alfred's gaze never wavered.

"I've made my peace," he said. "If the end is coming, then I will stand here with my people and face it."

The soldiers stood in stunned silence. Their king—resolute and unwavering—had spoken with the heart of a warrior and a leader. They felt a surge of pride and grief all at once.

Drakonix's head lowered. He felt… broken.

"I should have known," he muttered. "You've always been like this…"

"I'm grateful you understand," Alfred said gently.

"…Do you want me to take Rebecca?" Drakonix asked.

"Yes," Alfred said, voice barely above a whisper. "Please. Keep her safe. And… when she's older… tell her I'm sorry. For everything I wasn't. For everything I should've been."

Drakonix nodded slowly. "I would've taken her anyway."

A small voice interrupted them both.

"Daddy? Why are you outside?"

They turned.

Little Rebecca, clad in her nightgown, rubbed her sleepy eyes as she stepped into the garden. Her eyes lit up when she spotted the dragon.

"Drakonix! You came back! Are you here to play with me?"

She ran toward him, arms outstretched with childish joy.

And Drakonix… felt his heart shatter.