Chapter 3 : The Legend of the Hollow Blade

The man in black reached the hill's summit, his cloak twitching in the restless breeze. The dragon "Blackmaw" sprawled below, a mountain of scale and nightmare, its every exhale a hiss of smoke and cinder over the battlefield it called home.

He drew a deep, deliberate breath—and from within, a ghostly blue flame emerged, coiling into the shape of a serpent. That fiery snake with anger attacked with a fiery breath disrupting the dragons mind while it was asleep and causing it pain.

The beast awoke with a roar that shook the mountains.

Fire erupted from its maw — a beast that had erased villages. The Hollow Blade didn't raise his sword.

The flames bent toward it—not blocked, but swallowed by the sword's hunger.

His thumb folded against his palm.

Blackmaw charged, claws rending stone... and passed through him as though he were smoke. The Hollow Blade disappeared and reappeared behind it . now with two fingers curled .

The dragon whirled, tail whipping with force to shatter trees—

—only to strike empty air. The Blade this time appears from the side .

"three fingers folded. "

When he finally raised his sword, it burned with the dragon's own stolen fire . The blast made Blackmaw's throat shut. As it gagged, the Hollow Blade.

"folded his fourth finger."

The beast gathered its final breath, the air shimmering with heat— Attacked -

—BUT the Hollow Blade wasn't there.

He dropped from the sky with a sigh, as if tired of it all, driving his sword not through scales, but through the concept of the dragon's neck .

Fifth finger closed.

The head fell without a sound. The body remained standing, wings still outstretched as if frozen mid-roar.

"And then he vanished into the thin air, not like a man, but like a force of nature retreating back into silence."

The beast was dead . Once who burned , destroyed many Villages laid silent.

By the time the village children found the corpse it had cooled with unnatural swiftness . No blood. No stench of death. Just a headless monument to something that had forgotten how to die.

That evening, a herald burst into the capital's war room. 'The messenger trembled 'the Blackmaw dragon is dead sir'

A pale-haired man looked up from his maps. His blue eyes gleamed like ice catching fire.

He smirked "he murmured" 'FINALLY a worthy lie'.