"We're going to be history!" Callum cried out, ducking behind a jagged boulder as a blast of searing fire shot past him, incinerating the wall behind where he had just been standing. The heat was so intense it melted the moss and turned the rocks black. "We're dead. Absolutely roasted!"
Across the cavern, Alex was kneeling beside Trisha, his hand glowing green as he poured healing energy into her broken ribs and charred skin. She winced but didn't cry out, breathing through clenched teeth. Blood streaked her temple, and her armor was nearly torn off at one side. The dragon's tail had caught her clean across the back and flung her against the wall like a rag doll.
"I don't think regular blades work on that thing," she groaned. "Its gold scales are tougher than anything I've ever seen… tougher than metal, even enchanted metal."
Alex didn't answer right away. He could feel his energy draining rapidly—his mana nearly depleted, and his regeneration struggling to keep up with the battle damage. The healing spell faded, and he clenched his jaw. Their tactics had been smart. Their execution was perfect. And yet, it didn't matter.
The dragon stood only a hundred meters away, towering and menacing. Its golden wings were spread, scraping the cave ceiling. Its body shimmered like volcanic glass, scales reflecting the ambient red glow of the enchanted torches embedded around the cave. Every breath it took sent embers flaring from its nostrils. It looked amused. Like a god surveying its toys.
Alex's mind raced through everything that had happened in the last hour.
Finding the cave was the easy part. Leyla had marked the exact coordinates before they left, and the journey took only minutes thanks to Callum's Wind Glide and Trisha's burst-speed leaps. Once they entered the cave, it had taken only fifty steps before they found the dragon, lying curled up like a sleeping mountain of scales and smoke.
They thought they had the element of surprise.
Callum had silently placed his traps—freezing glyphs and concussive mines—in a tight pattern around the beast. Alex used his earth rune to stabilize the cave structure so it wouldn't collapse from the upcoming battle. Trisha had taken position behind the dragon, ready to lunge with her daggers. Then they struck, executing a synchronized attack.
The dragon had barely flinched.
Fireproof. Resistant to magic. Immune to poison. It shrugged off all their attacks like it was swatting away dust. Callum's traps only served to irritate it, Trisha's daggers couldn't pierce its armor, and Alex's lightning spell merely singed its horns. Worse, the beast responded with precise, brutal counterattacks that would have killed them outright—if not for the enchanted defense orbs given by Leyla.
They'd used nearly all their skills. And still, the dragon barely had a scratch.
"Guys," Alex said quietly, pulling back behind a rock with Trisha, "we've tried everything. My energy's low. I know yours is too."
Trisha breathed deeply. Her skin was mostly healed now, but her eyes were dim, her limbs heavy. "If we leave now… do you think it'll let us walk away?"
Alex glanced at the dragon. Its tail flicked like a bored cat. "Not unless we taste good," he said. "She already said she'd eat us if we stopped being entertaining."
"She?" Trisha blinked.
"Yeah," Alex said. "She spoke. I heard her mind. She's… tired, angry, and alone."
"Wonderful," Callum called from the far end of the cave. "So we're not just fighting a dragon. We're fighting an emotionally damaged dragon!"
"No jokes right now, Callum," Trisha muttered.
Alex stood up. But Trisha reached out, grabbing his wrist. "No. Don't do it. Don't go out there. You can't win, not like this."
"I'm not going to fight," Alex said, meeting her eyes. "I'm going to talk."
She frowned. "You think that'll work?"
He gave a small, lopsided smile. "It's the only ace I've got left, and it's fail-safe… I think."
Before Trisha could stop him again, Alex stepped into the open.
"Hey!" he called out, raising his hands above his head. "Before you eat us, can we have at least a short conversation?"
The dragon turned its massive head toward him. Its golden eyes, like twin suns, locked onto his form. Then, it laughed—a deep, resonating rumble that shook dust from the cave walls.
"You are brave," the dragon said, its voice echoing like thunder. "And funny. I haven't been entertained like this in centuries. Your attacks were weak, but your resolve was… amusing."
It shifted its massive body, settling back onto its haunches like a sitting cat. "Very well. Speak, little Druid. I'll listen… for a while."
Alex approached slowly. The heat radiating off the dragon was like standing next to a forge. He could feel the sweat on his back, his throat dry from the fumes.
"Why are you angry?" he asked. "Why are you doing this?"
The dragon snorted. "Because I was forgotten, I waited. I protected. And for what? My companions never returned. My creators vanished. The world changed. And when I woke, there was nothing left."
"You were supposed to protect the elves."
"I did, for millennia, and now I protect them from myself."
Alex blinked. "Why?"
"I am no longer the creature I once was," the dragon said. "Madness eats at me like rot. Every day I sleep, I lose more of who I was. And when I wake… I want to destroy anything and everything."
Alex felt a chill.
"So that's why you kill anyone who comes close," he said softly.
"Yes, because I know I cannot stop myself forever."
There was silence for a moment.
Then the dragon looked at him again. "But you… you and your friends… you intrigued me. You fought hard. You fought smart. You reminded me of something I forgot: purpose."
Alex exhaled. "So what now? Do we keep fighting until one of us dies?"
The dragon's eyes narrowed. "That depends. What will you do, human? Kill me and be done with it? Or find another way?"
Alex turned slightly, glancing back at Callum and Trisha still crouched behind the rocks.
"There's always another way," he said. "I don't know what it is yet, but I'll find it. We don't want to destroy you, but we can't let you destroy them either."
The dragon was quiet. Then it said, "Prove your intent. Place your hand on my heart."
"What?" Alex blinked.
The dragon lowered its chest, exposing a small section between its scales—just above where its heart would be.
"If you are who you claim to be… your spirit will not be burned."
Alex hesitated. Then stepped forward.
He pressed his hand to the dragon's chest. It was searing hot. The surface cracked like lava beneath his fingers. A sudden jolt of energy surged through him—not painful, but powerful, like a river bursting through a dam.
But he didn't scream. He held still.
Then the world around him dissolved.
He was no longer in the cave.
Instead, Alex stood—no, soared—through the skies, riding the vision as though his very soul had merged with the creature's. Below him, a vast battlefield stretched across a scorched valley surrounded by jagged mountains. Fires burned. Rivers turned black from blood. The skies cracked open as two great forces clashed in a war that could shatter the world.
He saw the golden dragon—this very one, radiant and unbroken—flying in formation beside other mystical beasts. A massive firebird with plumage of living flame soared beside it—a phoenix, blazing like a comet. A silver gryphon slashed through enemy lines like a storm, its claws tearing through winged demons. And two more dragons joined them, one crimson and another dark amber, breathing fire and light upon their enemies.
They faced monsters of nightmares.
A colossal winged serpent with six writhing heads—a Hydra—spewed venom that melted the mountains. A monstrous sea beast, taller than towers, dragged creatures into whirlpools—was that the Leviathan? And worst of all, six black-scaled dragons, enormous and dreadful, circled like vultures over the battlefield, their eyes glowing red with ancient hatred.
But it wasn't just monsters.
There were warriors on both sides—humans with glowing eyes and ethereal armor, elves wielding swords made of starlight, and other beings Alex couldn't even name. Some had crystal skin; others were shadows with form. Magic cracked through the air like thunder, lighting up the skies in arcs of blinding power.
It was a war of gods.
And still—it was almost equal. For every great beast that fell, another rose. For every hero who triumphed, a new horror surged forth.
Then Alex felt it—like a blade through the heart.
A ripple. A fracture.
Betrayal.
It didn't come from the enemy.
It came from within.
He felt the golden dragon's confusion, its heartbreak. One of its allies—no, several—had turned. Their aura shifted. A beautiful being, cloaked in white light, suddenly struck from behind. One of the red dragons was killed mid-flight, stabbed through by what looked like a spear of void.
The tide turned.
The golden dragon roared—a roar not just of rage but despair. The battle became chaos.
And then—it ended.
The vision shattered like glass, and Alex fell backward, gasping for breath, sweat beading on his forehead. He staggered, his hand pulling back from the dragon's snout. For a moment, he couldn't speak. Couldn't think.
The dragon was watching him closely.
"You saw it," she said.
"Yes," Alex whispered. "You're not a monster. You're a guardian, a legend."
She slowly pulled back. Her wings folded.
"If you want my death… I will not resist. But if you offer another path… I will listen."