Xyldrak descended into the Dragon's Block, his massive form filling the open-roofed structure with cold mist.
The building was designed for creatures like him—vast, reinforced, and exposed to the sky—but even so, his presence made it feel small.
Hundreds were already gathered.
Nearly a hundred professors stood in defensive formations, while at least half of the academy's students—dragons, fae, gryphons, and others—watched in tense silence. Among them stood Damien.
Derian landed moments later, mist thinning as he steadied himself.
"You have done well, Derian," Overseer Donald said, giving a single, firm nod.
Xyldrak's gaze swept the block in seconds, ancient eyes taking in the architecture, the gathered forces, the fear barely restrained beneath discipline.
Then the dragon spoke.
"I am not here for all of you."
His voice rolled through the hall, low and absolute.
"Deliver one person to me," Xyldrak continued, "and I will spare your lives."
A pause.
"I, Xyldrak, am a dragon of my word."
Silence fell—heavy, suffocating.
Every instinct in the room screamed the same question:
Who would they choose?
But Damien already knew the answer.
His jaw tightened, teeth grinding together as memory dragged him backward—years, blood, and ice all at once.
He remembered the day it happened.
They were still children then. The day Ramien broke. The day the evil spirit was born.
Xyldrak had descended without warning, cold and merciless. More than twenty children were erased in moments—punished not for strength, but for cruelty. For daring to hurt Ramien.
Damien had survived.
Not because he was stronger.
But because, back then, there had been no hatred between him and his brother.
Now, standing in the Dragon's Block with Xyldrak's gaze sweeping the crowd, Damien understood the truth with terrifying clarity.
The dragon had not come for a sacrifice.
It had come for him.
"Why do you think we would hand one of our students over to you?" Overseer Donald asked. His tone was calm—but edged like steel.
"Because you mortals always do," Xyldrak replied flatly. "You sacrifice one life to preserve thousands. History proves this."
Ashen silence fell over the Dragon's Block. Professors stood rigid, faces pale, jaws clenched. No one spoke—but no one denied it either.
Overseer Donald took a measured step forward.
"Who is your master?" he asked.
Xyldrak's eyes flared cold. "You are not worthy of knowing my master."
Then, slowly, deliberately:
"Hand over Damien of the Ashen Line."
"That won't be happening."
The voice came from behind the dragon—calm, dreamlike.
Derian stepped into view.
A deep-purple sword formed in his hand, mist coiling along its edge as he raised it with quiet certainty.
"If you're here for him," Derian said evenly, eyes locked on Xyldrak,
"you'll have to go through me first."
"Boy, you are brave—but don't be reckless," Overseer Donald warned sharply, stepping forward.
He didn't get the chance to reach Derian.
Xyldrak's tail swept through the air.
The massive limb slammed into the walls of the Dragon's Block, the reinforced structure groaning under the impact but holding firm. The force alone sent shockwaves rippling through the hall.
Chaos erupted instantly.
Students ducked, professors leapt skyward, others scattered beyond the tail's reach—training and instinct taking over as the standoff shattered.
The battle had begun.
"Everyone—attack!" Overseer Donald commanded.
The academy moved as one.
Overseer Donald swept his hand through the air, carving a precise arc. Silver light gathered and solidified, forming a crescent moon that tore forward toward the dragon.
Professor Giga answered at once. Her parrot burst into flame midair, its form stretching and reshaping until a blazing phoenix surged ahead, colliding head-on with Xyldrak's chest in an explosion of heat and force.
Derian didn't hesitate.
His skin hardened, scales surfacing along his arms and jaw as he forced his dragon instinct down, locking it behind discipline and breath. He surged forward, closing the distance in a blink.
Mist poured from his blade.
With a sharp motion, Derian shaped the mist—coiling, thickening—until a massive Komodo emerged from the haze. It lunged, wrapping around Xyldrak's limbs and neck, dragging the dragon into close combat.
Agrath stepped forward, fist glowing with gold light. Behind him, a giant spectral fist materialized, swinging toward Xyldrak with overwhelming force.
Damien summoned his flaming sword and lunged—but the image of his brother flickered in the projection. His hands faltered; he could not strike.
All the attacks landed simultaneously from different angles. Xyldrak roared in fury, the shockwave tossing everyone across the block.
The dragon opened its maw, blue light flaring to its peak. Everyone scrambled, summoning shields, scales, and barriers of earth.
For a heartbeat, the world went silent.
The mist and ice exploded outward. Frost and jagged shards tore through the Dragon's Block, smashing into walls and pillars. Even the reinforced stone cracked under the relentless pressure.
The blue-grey mist rolled over the block like a suffocating blanket, blinding all in its path.
In response, Overseer Donald transformed, his dragon form roaring to life. Professor Giga followed suit, transforming into a colossal phoenix to rally the dragons. Like this, one by one, Dragons emerged from the mist, their fierce forms intertwining with Xyldrak's, battling for dominance.
Despite the chaos, Derian remained in his human form, his Komodo construct continuing to tie down Xyldrak. It slithered around the dragon, a crawling distraction, while the other dragons focused on their assault.
The gryphons clawed, werewolves bit, and vampires used their speed to the max, offering support. Though they were small in comparison, their relentless strikes provided much-needed pressure.
The fae struggled, barely able to hold their ground against the screaming winds. Damien fared no better. Every time he raised his blade, his vision betrayed him—Xyldrak's vast form dissolving into the face of his brother. The world-destroyer blurred, replaced by memory.
The battle raged on, but beneath the clash of power, a quiet helplessness crept in.
Then Damien noticed it.
The Komodo construct peeled away from Xyldrak without warning, its misty form surging straight toward him. Before Damien could react, the world lurched. The roar of battle fell away, replaced by rushing air.
In an instant, he was no longer in the Dragon's Block.
The Komodo carried him clear of the chaos, releasing him onto solid ground somewhere in the academy, far from the mist and ice. Derian emerged beside him moments later, expression unreadable.
"Derian—what's happening?" Damien asked, his voice unsteady.
Derian studied him closely. He had never seen Damien like this—shaken, unfocused, unraveling.
"You're not fit to fight," he said calmly. "I won't let you stay there."
Damien clenched his fists. "What about the fae? The others who can't defend themselves?"
Derian turned away, his voice cooling as he spoke.
"Your life," he said without hesitation, "matters more to me than theirs."
"I won't stay here and let other students die because of me," Damien protested.
Derian turned back, his expression calm, almost detached.
"And what do you plan to do instead?"
He held Damien's gaze.
"There is only one ending to any battle," he said after a brief pause.
"You defeat your opponent—or you fall."
His tone hardened.
"So tell me. Will you sacrifice yourself for students who cannot fight? Or will you stop your brother and end this before more lives are lost?"
Damien hesitated. The storm seemed to dull as he slowly lifted his eyes to meet Derian's.
"Where was Reinna taken?" he asked.
A flash of irritation crossed Derian's face, quickly masked. He turned away without answering.
"Is she at our block?" Damien pressed, reaching out and gripping Derian's arm.
Derian pulled free, frustration breaking through his control.
"Why is it always her?" he snapped. "If she is there, what then? Will you rush back into the chaos—risk everything—just for her?"
His voice dropped, sharp and strained.
"In the name of love?"
Damien didn't understand why Derian sounded so wounded—why there was anger beneath the words—but one thing was certain: he wasn't leaving Reinna behind.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "I'm not abandoning her. I know what Xyldrak is capable of."
Before Derian could respond, the air shimmered.
Damien vanished.
Derian remained where he was, motionless, the storm's echoes filling the silence he left behind.