Nestled within the natural boundaries of a mountainous region stood a grand church—its splendour a stark contrast to the ruined city surrounding it. The city itself was dilapidated, scarred by countless wars and repeated changes of rule. Its location, while strategically advantageous, was a double-edged sword: a blessing in defence, yet a curse that made it a constant target.
The tall, thick stone walls were crumbling, and the few people who hadn't abandoned the city were malnourished and desperately poor. The nobles of the human theocracy had drained them of everything—economically, socially, and even personally. Many had lost loved ones, conscripted to fight against the elves in the name of the city's so-called protection, armed with ill-fitting armour and given no training at all.
Inside the church that all but screamed luxury stood a bishop of the theocracy—a man of considerable rank. He was hastily packing away as many valuables as he could after one of his aides, a young man with striking golden hair and blue eyes named Charlie, had hurriedly explained the situation in an apprehensive voice.
"My Lord, reports from the battle tell us of our army being wiped out."
The bishop, while still piling scrolls and jewels into the bag, said slightly relaxed.
"It's alright, my child. The human gods are with us. The magical defensive shield the theocracy established will give us more than enough time to leave before those knife-eared, tree-hugging animals reach the city."
He seemed to finish collecting the items he wanted and needed, before looking at the young man, Charlie.
"We will bring back an army to retake it within a few weeks, those knife-ears are only delaying the inevitable. No one escapes the wrath of the human gods. Praise be!"
The bishop seemed to make a movement with his hand, over his chest in a specific pattern, as Charlie did the same.
Suddenly, a deep boom echoed across the ruined city, and for a moment, even the air seemed to pause. The grand church, perched high upon its elevated grounds, shuddered under the force of the impact.
"What in the gods glorious names is that?!" The bishop said hastily.
"I will go check, My Lord!"
After a few anxious moments, Charlie returned, his face pale.
"My Lord… you need to see this."
They hurried out of the church, and what greeted them was both glorious and terrifying.
A dragon of unimaginable proportions blotted out the fading sunlight, its colossal, razor-sharp claws digging into the magical shield that encased the city.
It was physically ripping the shield apart, it would not last much longer, they both knew this.
The bishop could barely breath with worry and trepidation.
"What is that dragon? It is not normal! Dragons are not that big! Is it... an ancient dragon? No, impossible... I will have to report this to the theocracy. I will use the secret tunnel in the church."
Charlie nodded before trying to follow.
"Stay here, my boy. Keep the flock calm. I shall go alone and fetch an army to deal with those savages and that insolent dragon, who presume to challenge our gods." Though he sounded confident and arrogant the bishop could not hide his worry and need to escape.
Charlie was flabbergasted by the audacity of the bishop standing before him—a man he had once respected. That respect quickly began to crumble as he watched the bishop rush off in a panic, clutching his bag of spoils like a desperate pirate.
As Charlie stood at the entrance of the church, he watched in disbelief as the colossal, majestic dragon tore through the shield as if it were parchment. The barrier disintegrated under the sheer physical force, while the gusts from the dragon's movements flattened what remained of the nearby wooden buildings. All Charlie could do was pray that this dragon was not like the others—greedy, short-sighted, and violently temperamental.