The power of Menadion Set would help the Yggdrasill to repel the intruders and crack the secret of the tower.
Without Lith, those under the effect of the When All Are One array would lose the mass of a Divine Beast, making the gap in strength with the Golems abyssal. Without him, the invaders would have no reason to fight and the conflict would end.
Lith was still shapeshifting back into a Tiamat when the axes of the four Golems surrounding him came down, aiming for his neck. His body was still covered in the burns caused by the blue flames when a large pillar of Primordial Flames engulfed them all.
The white fire sent the Golem on Lith’s left slamming against the one on his back and created an opening for Valtak to pull the Tiamat to safety.
In the euphoria from being finally ridden of pain and the excitement from their imminent victory, the Yggdrasill had forgotten about the dying Wyrm and the Champion of Fire.
As the battle between Lith and the World Tree reached its predictable conclusion, Radoghorn had charged through the outer layer of Golems while the blue flames still burned. He had sent Valtak alone while Radoghorn stopped the constructs from interfering.
The Champion of Fire had embraced the pain from the blue flames to hurt the Golems and draw attention to himself while the pillar of Primordial Flames he had released hid Valtak from Soul Vision.
For a veteran like Radoghorn manipulating the white flames not to hurt his son and allies was child’s play.
Despite the raging Primordial Flames blinding the Yggdrasill’s mystical and regular senses, the Tree remembered Lith’s last position and there was only one path he could have taken. The ax of the Golem followed its prey, striking him true.
“No!” Lith said as the wooden blade easily cut through Valtak’s weakened armor and bones.
The Old Wyrm’s remaining strength had been spent to lift Lith the Tiamat and move him behind the Fire Dragon.
“No!” The Yggdrasill screamed as their attempt to stop the blow failed.
The ax smashed Valtak’s clavicle, broke through his ribcage, and punctured his heart.
His final thoughts didn’t go to his mother because they would soon meet. They didn’t go to his father either, because Radoghorn would accompany the Elder Wyrm during his final journey.
Valtak’s final thoughts went to all his friends and what they would do to the Yggdrasill.
“There be Dragons.” The words frothed in blood as his muzzle curled up in a weak smile.
Then, the light went out of his eyes and his body fell limp.
“My Hatchling!” Radoghorn knew it was going to happen since the moment he had crossed through Mogar’s veil but he didn’t suffer any less for it. “You killed my Hatchling!”
The Champion of Fire used Balkor’s spell to ignite, focus, and amplify his life force to the extreme. Radoghorn passed away right after Valtak, but not before upholding his son’s last wish.
Instead of an explosion of mana like the god of death had intended, Radoghorn’s sacrifice triggered a mushroom conflagration of Immortal Flames. They burned the space-compressing array, turned the elves into ashes, and hid the five Blinks Radoghorn had conjured to lead Lith’s group to safety.
The emerald flames swirled and burned long enough to give Lith’s group the time to recover. They burned so violently that the World Tree had to consume part of their accumulated power to keep the Golems from being destroyed.
The Yggdrasill knew that soon they would need them down to the last one.
***
Blood Desert, Salaark’s palace.
In Leegaain’s mind there was a starry sky only he could see. It represented the bond with his bloodline and each time a Dragon was born, a new star would shine its light. Each time a Dragon died, one star would fade.
Valtak’s light disappeared suddenly from Leegaain’s mind. It didn’t wane or weaken, it simply went out like it had never been there. It could only mean that he had been murdered which made the pain of the loss even greater.
***
In the same way, Valtak’s communication rune suddenly disappeared from Quashol’s amulet, triggering its alarm.
“Valtak, you old fool!” The Father of All Ice Dragons felt something inside of him freeze and die like not even his breath could.
There was no need to call someone to know what had happened. Leegaain’s pain spread through the Brood like a death knell. His grief was their own and he wouldn’t grieve a death by old age.
The coldness inside Quashol was replaced by a burning anger that rose like magma building up before an eruption. Someone had to pay for the death of the Brood Brother of the Father of All Ice Dragons or he would never find peace again.
“The World Tree has stolen from one of us.” Quashol pushed the rune that opened a channel with all of his children at once. “The World Tree has killed one of us. They have killed my friend and I’ll have blood for Brood!”
“Blood for Brood!” The Ice Dragons chanted before their holograms disappeared in rapid succession.
It was the only answer Quashol needed. It wasn’t time for speeches but for war.
Only those unwilling to follow the Patriarch in battle would not hang up. The rest would leave their lair and converge toward the enemy.
As the Father of All Ice Dragons collected his amulet and Warped to the nearest Gate, not a single hologram remained.
***
The wars in Verendi ended that day. The cities that denied passage to the angry Wyrms burned and those who stood in their path died. In a flash of fire, the borders with the Blood Desert and the Kingdom were conquered.
The Dragons from Jiera moved even faster. The outposts of the Desert, the Empire, and the Kingdom granted the members of the Brood full access to the Transoceanic Gate Network.
The Wyrms from all over Mogar knew where to go. Gentor’s amulet shared his current position in case of latecomers. The Father of All Golden Dragons didn’t expect anyone to come but it was worth a try.
“Let us in, little mouse, or no matter how deep the hole you hide is, we’ll burn it down with the rest of the house.” Outside the city of Telesta in the Gorgon Empire, a woman of rare beauty was staring an entry guard in the eyes.
She had raven-black hair, violet eyes with a vertical slitted pupil, and black membranous wings shrouding her like a mantle
The man and ten others were tasked with checking anyone who wanted access to Telesta and spent most of their days arresting small criminals and letting innocent citizens of the Empire in.
On rare occasions, they would face powerful and dangerous individuals that required summoning the Imperial Guard and the Mage Council. The gatekeepers loved when that happened.
It was a pleasant break from their boring routine and, when the criminal was dumb enough to resist, allowed them to witness battles worthy of a bard’s tale. The gatekeepers would have a story to tell and rounds of free drinks for days when that happened.
Today, however, none of the soldier felt excited at the idea of a fight breaking out.
