Ragnar stepped back, arms crossed over his massive chest, his dragon warriors still looming behind him.
"Is this what the so-called rulers of the elemental tribes have been reduced to?" His voice dripped with mockery, echoing through the chamber. "A Fire Prince tangled in a plant girl's weeds..."
Sylvia scowled, yanking her vines - but Arson's flames kept them clinging tighter.
"...an Ice Prince plastered with fairy feathers like some frostbitten bird..."
Glacius's eye twitched as Peggy defiantly fluffed her golden wing.
"And both of you," Ragnar's grin widened, "too weak to rip them off yourselves."
The dragon warriors chuckled, their deep laughter rumbling like distant thunder.
Even the unconscious forms of Zephyr and Raiden seemed less pitiful compared to the absolute mess unfolding before Ragnar's eyes.
"You all call yourselves leaders?" Ragnar shook his head, almost disappointed. "I thought I came here to crush warriors. But this?" He gestured at them with a lazy wave of his clawed hand. "This is just... embarrassing."
The room went silent for a moment.
And then—
Arson's fists curled into white-hot flames.
Glacius's icy aura flared, frost forming along the floor beneath his boots.
Their pride - their core - had taken too much of a beating.
First, they'd lost their battles - Arson failing to burn Sylvia's lands, Glacius unable to freeze Peggy's domain.
Then, they were captured - trapped like helpless children.
And now?
Now, they were free - yet humiliated, reduced to nothing more than a pair of rival princes stuck to their enemies like a joke.
Arson's voice was a low growl. "I don't care who you think you are," he snarled at Ragnar, the heat radiating from his body causing Sylvia's vines to glow even brighter. "But I'm not some toy for you to laugh at."
Glacius's icy gaze darkened. "If you think this is the best we can do... you're a fool."
The dragon warriors stopped laughing.
Ragnar, however, simply grinned wider.
"Oh?" Ragnar stepped closer again, the heat of his own dragon fire pressing against Arson's flames and the chill of Glacius's ice. "Prove it."
But as the flames burned brighter and the frost thickened - Sylvia and Peggy, still very much attached to their rivals - groaned in frustration.
"Can you not set me on fire?" Sylvia snapped at Arson.
"And could you not freeze me solid?" Peggy hissed at Glacius.
Neither prince answered - their eyes locked solely on Ragnar.
The tension in the room was on the edge of exploding.