The gate shuddered one final time under the cockatrice's charge, wood exploding inward in a shower of splinters and iron shards. Snow and embers whirled through the breach like a deadly storm.
Kai stood alone in the open gap, sword blazing in his grip, the only barrier between the village and annihilation.
The cockatrice loomed before him, a nightmare made flesh and crystal.
Its body was enormous—easily four times the height of a man—covered in scales that had once been feathers, now hardened into jagged, translucent quartz that caught the firelight and fractured it into a thousand blood-red shards. Venom dripped from its beak in thick, hissing ropes, eating smoking holes into the frozen ground. Wings, half-spread, stirred gusts strong enough to stagger grown men. Its eyes—molten gold slit with black—fixed on Kai with ancient, predatory intelligence.
Behind it, Grishnak's horde hesitated. Even goblins feared this dungeon-born terror.
The cockatrice screeched again.
The sound was a physical blow—high, piercing, laced with petrifying magic. Kai felt his blood slow, muscles seize, skin prickle as though turning to stone. He roared defiance, pouring mana into his body to burn away the curse. Veins glowed beneath his skin; the creeping numbness shattered like ice.
He charged.
Snow exploded under his boots as enhanced legs launched him forward in a blur. The cockatrice snapped its beak down where he had stood—jaws closing with a sound like breaking glass, missing by inches.
Kai slid beneath its neck, sword slashing upward.
The blade met crystalline scale. Sparks flew; the impact jarred his arms to the shoulder, but the enchanted edge bit. A long crack spider-webbed across the scales, oozing thick, glowing venom that steamed in the cold air. The stench hit him—acidic, sweet-rotten, like spoiled fruit mixed with forge smoke.
The monster recoiled, wings beating once. The downdraft slammed Kai backward; he rolled with it, coming up in a crouch as a talon the size of a scythe raked the ground where he'd been. Frozen earth erupted in a spray of dirt and ice.
Above, on the shattered palisade, Lila screamed his name. Wind howled around her, gathering into a spiraling lance.
"Lila—wait!" Kai shouted, voice raw. "Support only! Don't get close!"
He couldn't fight two battles at once.
The cockatrice lunged again, beak wide. Venom sprayed in a cone.
Kai dove aside; droplets spattered his jerkin. Leather hissed and smoked, burning through to skin beneath. Pain flared—sharp, chemical—but enhanced healing dulled it to a throb. He came up swinging.
This time he aimed for the wing joint. The sword connected with a resonant crack, like striking a bell made of glass. A large shard of scale sheared off, revealing raw, pulsing flesh beneath. The cockatrice shrieked in genuine pain, wing folding awkwardly.
Good. It could bleed.
But the wound only enraged it.
The beast spun with terrifying speed, tail whipping around. Barbed crystal ridges lined it like a morningstar.
Kai raised his sword in a desperate block.
The impact hurled him ten feet through the air. He hit the snow hard, breath exploding from his lungs. Sword nearly flew from numb fingers. For a heartbeat the world spun—fire, snow, stars, blood in his mouth.
He forced himself up, tasting iron.
The cockatrice advanced, limping slightly but relentless. Its petrifying gaze intensified; golden light pulsed.
Kai felt stone creeping up his legs this time—real stone, gray and cold spreading from boots upward.
He snarled, slamming mana through his body like a flood. The stone cracked and flaked away, but it cost him—reserves dipping dangerously low.
From the corner of his eye, he saw goblins beginning to circle, emboldened.
Lila's wind struck then—a razor gust that carved across the cockatrice's face, slicing a shallow groove across one eye. The monster recoiled, shrieking.
Tomas's hawks dove in, talons raking at its remaining eye, harassing.
Harlan and the militia formed a ragged line behind Kai, spears ready, buying time for evacuation.
But the real fight was here.
Kai spat blood and advanced again.
He feinted left, then darted right—under the injured wing. The cockatrice snapped too late. He drove his blazing sword upward into the soft underbelly where scales were thinner.
The blade sank deep.
Hot, viscous blood—glowing faintly blue—poured over his arms, burning like acid. He twisted the sword viciously before ripping it free.
The cockatrice staggered, wings beating wildly, stirring a blizzard of snow and ash.
Kai didn't let up.
He leaped—enhanced legs propelling him high onto its back, boots finding purchase on jagged scales. The monster bucked like a wild horse, trying to throw him.
He held on, sword raised.
With a roar that echoed over the burning village, he drove the blade down through the base of its neck.
The enchanted edge punched through crystal and bone.
The cockatrice's scream cut off into a gurgling wheeze. It thrashed once more—massive body slamming sideways into the ruined gate, crushing several goblins who'd crept too close.
Kai rode the collapse, leaping clear at the last moment.
The beast crashed to earth with a thunderous boom, snow billowing up in a white cloud. Crystalline scales cracked and shattered across the ground like broken glass.
It twitched once… twice… then lay still.
Silence fell, broken only by crackling flames and distant cries.
Kai stood panting amid the carnage, sword dripping glowing blood that hissed on snow. His body ached everywhere—burns, bruises, shallow cuts. Mana reserves flickered low, a hollow ache behind his eyes.
But he was alive.
The cockatrice was dead.
Grishnak's roar of fury shattered the quiet.
The Goblin Lord stood atop a distant rise, cleaver raised, horde arrayed behind him.
"You… killed… my prize!" His voice carried unnatural volume. "For that, boy—I will flay you slowly! Burn the rest!"
The goblins hesitated, staring at the fallen dungeon beast.
Then Harlan's voice rang out. "Archers—loose!"
A volley of arrows arced from the village line, fletched with tips Kai had secretly enhanced in the nights before. They struck with unnatural force—piercing hobgoblin armor, dropping trolls to their knees.
Lila's wind gathered again, hurling burning debris back into goblin ranks.
Tomas's animals harassed flanks.
The horde wavered.
Grishnak snarled, realizing the night had turned against him. The cockatrice's death had broken momentum.
"Retreat!" he bellowed. "We return stronger!"
Goblins melted back into the forest, dragging wounded, leaving fires and corpses behind.
Kai dropped to one knee, exhaustion crashing over him like a wave.
Hands caught him—Lila and Harlan both.
"You insane, brave fool," Lila whispered, voice breaking as she hugged him fiercely. Snowflakes caught in her lashes. "Don't ever do that alone again."
Harlan's grip on his shoulder was iron. Pride and fear warred in his eyes.
Behind them, villagers emerged from cover—cheering weakly, weeping, beginning the grim work of fighting fires and tending wounded.
The great cockatrice lay dead at the gate, scales already dulling.
Kai stared at it, chest heaving.
He had won.
But at terrible cost—roofs burned, several defenders lost when the gate fell, supplies ruined.
And Grishnak still lived.
As dawn's first pale light crept over the horizon, staining snow pink and gold, Kai felt that same chill again—stronger now.
The watching presence.
Far in the forest's heart, the Phantom Devourer withdrew its attention, disappointed.
The village still stood.
The boy had grown strong—too strong, perhaps.
It settled back into waiting.
There would be other nights.
Other calamities.
For now, Eldoria breathed.
Kai allowed Lila and his father to help him limp home through the snow, every step leaving bloody prints that steamed faintly.
He was alive.
They were alive.
And he was far from done.
To be continued...