And then came the ninth dragon.
The final and strongest. Its aura was oppressive enough to make the onlookers below clutch their chests. It tore through waves of small dragons without slowing, shattering even the weapons Max summoned.
But Max didn't stop. He poured every ounce of his soul force and mana into the black crown, which blazed brighter than ever before. From it, every type of creation he had used before — chains, swords, shackles, spears, whips, cages, arrows, serpents — manifested all at once, swarming toward the dragon in a coordinated assault.
The final clash shook the sky. The ninth dragon roared furiously, its flames surging outward to resist, but it was dragged down into a maelstrom of black fire.
Hundreds… thousands… of small dragons bit into its form while the weapons hacked away its scales. Slowly, painfully, its body disintegrated into streams of energy.
