Both doors to the main gate swung open, and Ronan was nearly face to face with a gray-scaled dragon. It was as tall and wide as the giant burning tapestries illuminating its jagged, black teeth, each one as large and wide as Ronan's own body. The dragon exhaled thick mounds of soot from its nose, the force of which blasted back Ronan's hair and made him need to ground himself. Martiza tugged at his arm. "Run! Come with me!"Ronan shook his head and held his sword outright. It gleamed a black so strong even the dragon winced. "Go with Illia and take out Wallace," Ronan said, not casting his glare away from the dragon's deep, dusty red eyes. From the corner of his mouth he added, "I know you can defeat Wallace."Without another word and without wasting another second, Maritza dashed off with Illia through the left hatch. Ronan could hear Scindo, Ike, and Clove beckoning out orders as the three dozen Seahorse Nightblades rushed to the grassy fields. Just beyond the dragon and it
Maritza heard Ronan shout for her as she rolled backwards, then regained her footing in a standing position. The Shroud's Runes coated half her body, and along with one of her eyes becoming black, the large black butterfly wing had protruded from her shoulder. She had saved herself by amplifying her Butterfly magic with The Shroud, but she was feeling the weight of using such power. Already, she wanted nothing more than to fall to her stomach and pass out, or allow her knees to buckle. She panted, and the smokescreen her marking had created started to clear. "Ronan!" she called out. "I'm okay! Finish off the dragon."Ronan stood past the clearing smoke, his sword raised with both hands. He got a clear look at Maritza, safe, then darted off towards the dragon circling the sky overhead. That left Maritza with only her opponent. The rest of the smoke dissipated, and Wallace was kneeling in a small crater from where he had landed with his hand around his sword. His sword's blade t
Clove and Ike stood back to back, watching through their panting breaths as Maritza transformed to her next level in The Shroud system."What the hell just happened to her?" Clove asked. The more and more she saw of The Shroud, the less trusted it and its demonic aura.Ike thrust his lance at one of the six remaining Order warriors, keeping the cloaked figure at bay. "I've got no clue," Ike said dismissively. "But it's Maritza. We can trust her. Be glad she's on our side."Clove let out a timid grunt, before using her dagger to parry a blow from yet another Order warrior. There were too many dead Seahorses to count, and as much as Clove thought she might be able to lead these warriors into battle, she was doubting if she would even make it out alive.Above them, the sky shook as the dragon roared. Ronan was on its tail, his hair whipping in the wind, as it flew around. Ronan stabbed his Hellblade between the scales and climbed the spikes lining the base of the dragon's tail."Ro
Somehow, Illia had the sense to leave her quarrel with Wallace and stand in front of Maritza. Alfred's bullet went right into the back of Illia's neck, and she choked on her blood as she fell to her knees. Maritza then noticed Alfred and put up her sword to his next shot, as if that might protect her.But Ike, grabbing his dominant and bloody arm, hurled his lance at Alfred. The lance's impact on Alfred's shoulder took his arm clean off, and his arm holding the gun fell in front of him. Blood gushed from the socket and Alfred hyperventilated. Scindo went to Illia's side, trying to put pressure on her bleeding, but in turn only taking precious seconds of air out from her lungs. "No, no, no," Scindo repeated. "Illia, please." Wallace started to laugh, and he went for Scindo next, but Maritza stopped the strike with her own sword. Ike hovered over Clove, who was twitching in a pool of her own blood. "Even if you defeat me," Wallace chuckled playfully, "none of you will have a
Harsh winter winds blew freezing powder against the Nightblade Temple of the Serpent. In the temple's courtyard, Trainees shivered. The young men and women stood shoulder to shoulder in thick snow up to their knees. They were bundled in fur cloaks and hoods, and their lightweight leather armor stuck uncomfortably to their bodies with nervous sweat and sleet. Cold cut the trainees to the bone, and the enormous and twisting stone walls of the Temple of the Serpent did little to keep the weather out from the training grounds.As the Trainees huffed bitter air and watched their jagged breaths turn to mist in front of them, their leader, Master Titanoboa, trudged shirtless through the tall snow. Both of his muscular arms were covered with tattoos of large blacks snakes that spanned from the tops of his shoulders down to the bottom of his hands, where the snakes' mouths opened wide bearing a set of fangs by each of Titanoboa's palms. His braided brown beard fell to his chest, and he carried
"If it's too cold out here, I'm sure there are potatoes that need peeling in the kitchen, Ronan," a Trainee cackled. "I think he'd slice his fingers off before he even finished skinning a single potato," another Trainee giggled. The Trainees clamored and looked at Ronan in disgust. "That's enough," Titanoboa said, not really wishing to protect Ronan but wanting to get on with his lesson. "Before you is a torch."Titanoboa paused at the torch closest to him, then waved his hand. A fireball sprung from his palm and ignited the torch. With his other hand, Titanoboa closed his fist, and the flame on the torch died out immediately. "If you want any chance of surviving outside of our temple," Titanoboa said, "then you must master the Serpent Nightblade magic of fire manipulation."The Trainees looked on at Titanoboa with eager faces despite the chill making them tremble. Titanoboa set a hand on his snake tattoo and said, "You all bear the Mark of Serpent, which means our fire magic
When Ronan was finished polishing the swords and he had finally earned his measly half-bowl of soup, night had long since crept over the temple. The entire time he struck soot and ash off the weapons, cutting his arms and hands on the sharp blades, he had heard Trainee Robyn's celebration echoing up from many flights of stairs below him. As he coughed from the clouds of dirt and grime he pulled off the swords with the polish, he fantasized about his own celebration, and of performing a feat so stunning the other Trainees would shower him in love and approval. But Ronan didn't really care all that much about fame or glory. He didn't need to be idealized or have songs created about his heroic actions. He knew what it was like to live in a world of weakness and fear, and he wanted to protect others like himself. Ronan shifted on his stiff and uncomfortable straw cot, imagining a hot dinner of roasted pork ribs, steamed potatoes, and vegetables cooked over a blazing fire. He thought ab
Sensing the woman's immense power, Ronan noticed the silver snake tattooed onto her arm. It glimmered in the lantern's light. Beneath the snake were 12 tally marks, and if she had achieved Serpent Rank 12 on only one arm, that meant she was significantly stronger and more attuned to magic than Titanoboa. Ronan dare not look at the sorceress' other arm. He'd never been alone and trespassing before somebody so strong, and he knew he was not in the good grace's of the occupants of the temple.Ronan swallowed and said, "Sorry, Sorceress Yvette. I've been struggling to access my magic and hoped to find a book that would help me unlock my abilities."Yvette's smile grew and she said, "It was in your favor to not lie to me. I've been watching you each night, young Ronan. 74 days in a row you've entered here, and you've read twice as many books."Ronan remained silent, his knees shaking. He gave Yvette a small nod. "How do you purify a pond tainted by a Naiad?" the sorceress asked, leanin