Chapter 14 – The King's Blade, the Dragon’s Wrath

The sky burned crimson as morning light fought through clouds of smoke and ash.

The battlefield was soaked in blood and flame — a wasteland where courage and death danced in circles.

And amidst it all, at the front lines where the iron of men clashed against claws and fangs—

Stood the King.

Lunstein von Airillesta.

Blood staining his armor.

The greatsword in his hand dripping with monster gore.

---

The King Watches

From the distance, amidst the chaos and the clash of steel, the King's golden eyes rose to the horizon.

> And he saw it.

The Drake.

Rearing back.

Roaring in pain.

His son's halberd still embedded in its right eye like a divine spear.

For a brief moment — the tide of the battlefield froze.

Even monsters felt the fear.

Goblins screeched and scattered.

Orcs looked back over their shoulders.

Trolls hesitated.

Something deep in their primal instincts recognized what just happened—

> Their god bled.

---

The King narrowed his eyes. He gripped his sword tighter.

> "So… you've struck the beast, my son…"

A fierce grin spread across his bloodied face.

> "Then I shall strike the rest in your name!"

---

The Turning Point

Without warning, the King roared louder than any general—

> "FOR AIRILLESTA! STRIKE NOW!"

And the knights, battered and broken, answered.

> "FOR THE KING!"

> "FOR PRINCE ALEIN!"

Blades rose.

Spells ignited.

And the humans surged forward like a second wave of storming steel.

The King himself led the charge.

> His greatsword cleaved through three orcs in a single sweep.

> An ogre lunged at him—he sidestepped and split its jaw in half.

> He struck like thunder, each swing a blow from the heavens.

---

The Drake Moves

But victory's breath was short.

The Drake, still wounded, shuddered.

Its claws gripped the earth.

The halberd still impaled in its right eye sizzled with divine energy.

It lowered its head.

Smoke poured from its nostrils.

And then—

With a ground-shaking BOOM, it moved.

---

Everything in its path—

Died.

---

It stepped forward like a god descending.

Monsters that didn't move fast enough were trampled—turned to mist beneath its claws.

Goblins. Cyclopes. Even its own wyverns.

The Drake didn't care.

> It was no longer a commander.

> It was an executioner.

---

It raised its massive head toward the sky and spoke—its voice, now corrupted with pain and venom, echoed across the land:

> "Humans… You dared to mark me… to wound me…"

> "For this insult—this blasphemy—I will not end you."

> "I will erase you."

> "Your homes. Your gods. Your love. Your hope. Your names."

> "All of it—turned to dust and ash."

---

And with one furious flap of its wings, it launched forward toward the human front line.

> "BRACE YOURSELVES!" the King roared.

---

But the soldiers knew—

Even with their courage…

Even with numbers…

They could not stop a god.

---

And somewhere deep in the forest, beyond shattered stone and silence—

A heartbeat began to stir again.

---

Smoke curled into the heavens like black vines.

The earth trembled under the weight of death and fury.

And above it all—

The Drake advanced.

Wounded. Furious. Unstoppable.

---Orders of a King

The King stood firm on the wall, breath sharp, eyes blazing.

His voice thundered across the battlefield.

> "ALL WEAPONS! RELOAD!"

> "CATAPULTS! BALLISTAS! MAGES! CHANNEL THE CIRCLE—NOW!"

All around him, soldiers scrambled to obey.

> Crews pulled levers.

Ballista bolts the size of tree trunks were cranked into place.

Enchanted boulders soaked in alchemical fire were set ablaze.

Mages began chanting in unison, hands glowing with light and flame.

The King raised his sword to the sky—pointed it toward the monstrosity.

> "Aim for the beast's heart!"

> "This is our wall. This is our home. Let it be our legend!"

---

The Drake's Wrath

From the forest, the Drake came—

Like a collapsing mountain.

Wings unfurled, flames dripping from its mouth, and hatred in its only remaining eye.

Its footfalls crushed its own minions beneath it.

Orcs screamed, trying to flee—

Flattened.

Goblins were torn apart by shockwaves in its wake.

Even the wyverns fled from it.

> It wasn't a leader anymore.

> It was a force of annihilation.

---

> "I will rip this world from your bones…" it hissed.

> "And carve my name in your ashes."

---

The King narrowed his eyes.

The beast was close now.

Fifty meters.

Thirty.

Ten.

He raised his arm.

> "NOW!"

---

The Answering Storm

The sky lit up.

> THOOM.

The catapults launched their payload—massive, enchanted stones laced with mana.

> CRACK.

Ballista bolts pierced the wind like thunderbolts.

> FWWSSHH.

Magic circles across the wall activated, and a barrage of elemental spells—fire, ice, wind, light—screamed toward the Drake.

---

And—

Direct hit.

> The Drake screamed.

> A boulder crushed against its ribs and exploded.

A bolt stabbed into its left leg, pinning it to the earth.

Lightning carved down its back.

Fire bloomed like roses across its hide.

For a moment, the world shook with its pain.

The beast staggered.

It bellowed, fury and agony twisting into a sound no mortal should ever hear.

But it did not fall.

---

One Last Strike

And then—

> "LOAD THE LAST CATAPULT!"

Everyone turned.

The King—Lunstein von Airillesta—was climbing the final siege engine.

> "Your Majesty!?"

> "No! You'll die!"

But he only smiled.

> "I promised my son I'd fight until the end."

> "And if this is it—then let this blow be remembered."

---

He stood on the catapult arm, sword gripped tight. His cape flared in the wind like wings of fire.

The lever was pulled—

FWOOOM.

> And the King flew.

---

Like a blazing comet of silver and gold, he cut through the air with his blade drawn—

Aiming for the Drake's neck.

> The monster raised its head at the last second—

> —but the sword carved not its throat—

> —but its wing.

> SHHHRAAAK!

Blood and scale erupted like shrapnel.

The Drake screamed in unholy rage as its entire left wing was severed, crashing to the ground like a fallen mountain.

The beast stumbled, its balance broken, its majesty marred.

---

The King landed hard, rolling across the dirt, coughing blood.

But he lived.

> "You won't fly over us ever again," he whispered, rising to one knee.

---

The army roared.

But it wasn't over.

Because in the smoking ruin of battle, the Drake rose again—

Wingless. Wounded. Enraged beyond reason.

> "You will burn with me…"

> "ALL OF YOU."

---

The battlefield held its breath.

Knights, soldiers, mages—even the monsters—stood still as the mighty Drake halted.

Crimson smoke curled from its jagged maw. Its severed wing lay broken behind it, blood pooling like a lake.

Its muscles tensed. Its only remaining eye—burning with hate.

But it did not fall.

> It stood.

> It endured.

---

The Final Trick

Then, without warning—

A rumbling.

A low growl churned from deep in the Drake's throat.

Its jaw opened wider.

A dull orange glow began pulsing in its chest—throbbing like a second heart.

The light climbed up its throat in waves—

Flammable mana.

Not fire.

Not ordinary flame.

> Dragonfire.

> The ancient breath that melts stone and sears air.

---

The King's eyes widened as he collapsed to one knee.

Blood dripped from his lips. His sword, cracked and scorched, dug into the earth beside him.

He could barely breathe.

> "No…"

He tried to rise.

His legs trembled.

He tried again—

And fell.

---

The King slammed his fist into the stone beneath him.

> "MOVE! EVERYONE, MOVE!!"

He shouted with all that was left in his lungs.

> "HE'S GOING TO RELEASE IT!!"

---

Panic rippled through the remaining forces.

Mages broke chants.

Knights screamed.

Some ran.

Some froze.

But all of them knew—

They couldn't stop it.

The Drake's chest swelled.

Its throat burned white.

The very air distorted from the heat.

---

> "Please…" the King whispered, tears mixing with soot and blood.

> "Someone… stop it…"

---

The Spark

And then—

The sky blinked.

A crack in the air.

A whistle.

Like thunder being inhaled.

And in an instant—

> FWOOSH!

A bolt of blue fire tore through the sky like a divine spear.

It struck the Drake's face.

Right between the eye and snout.

> BOOOOM!

The impact exploded across the monster's jaw.

Its head jerked violently to the side.

Its fiery breath—

MISFIRED.

> Instead of annihilating the wall—

> It shot skyward.

A column of fire so intense it pierced the clouds, scattering them like frightened birds.

The Drake howled in fury—its face smoking, burned, its aim thrown off by the attack.

---

The King gasped, staring up at the blue trail still shimmering through the air.

> "That flame… no… it can't be…"

He looked beyond the wall.

Toward the smoking forest.

Where once, only silence remained.

And from the shadows of broken trees—

A figure began to rise with flammable body.