Dragonic Slayer Novels & Stories

Raging fires encircled her like a protective wall. She wrapped her arms around her stomach, feeling empty, hollow, lost. She could hear the sound of laughter, a cruel, demented laugh. Turning her head towards the sound, her eyes reflecting the flames dancing as they were slick with tears. Stepping through the flames, she stalked towards the person laughing at her, her hands partially shifted into the claws of her dragon. Ready to tear out the throats of whoever had dared to mock her.

A low, ancient sound that promised ruin. Her last prey still lingered in her mind, dull and uninspiring. “Mother of Deserts… please!” Argonios, Dragon Slayer of Vamidr, a legend among mortals, fell to his knees. The great sand expanse swallowing the sound of his plea, his voice broke like reed in the wind. Tears streaked through the dust on his face, molten sand clung to his armor that has been half-melted from the heat of her power.

“Good, let that traitor be afraid. His days are numbered. I’ve found my mate.” Cressa smiled, seeing the look of adoration in his eyes as she spoke of her. The woman’s name was Freja. Freja was the famed Slayer, a warrior that cut through Dragonkin like butter. Fear bloomed on her chest as he told of her quest to kill him in order to avoid her fate of becoming his. From what Cressa gathered as he dumped the details of the last two weeks, Freja had slain his father and had been on a quest for vengeance ever since. A quest to avenge the attack on her Midlands village and for being marked as his from birth.

That is my home. I was about to tell her it was beautiful when she pulled me back and behind a tree. "What?" I whispered. There, she said, pointing. In the distance was a group of three gray dragons. They had metal armor around their arms and legs as well as their heads. "What are they?" I watched them fly, their eyes trained on the landscape below. Her voice quivered lightly as she spoke: Some of the Ondror Slayers. They are looking for me. For us. This time, they will not go so easy on us.

“Do you even know what Slay the Dragon means? If you don’t, then you go and find out first … before you come here to complain.” Larice blinked a couple of times. What’s he talking about? Of course, she knew. That’s what everybody here had all been training for. All hunters dreamed of slaying those dragons and collecting their Dragonites to raise their ranks. But that’s not exactly what Larice Whitewind desired. She didn’t want to slay ‘any’ dragon. She wanted to slay ‘the’ dragon which razed her village and scorched her parents alive. But she knew she could never do it, knowing her fear and trauma would kill her first.

I stand rooted to the spot, a silent witness to the unfolding spectacle, my heart pounding in my chest. As I watch in awe, Thrystan conjures his own flames, crafting them into a sinuous ribbon of fire reminiscent of a dragon's coil. With practiced precision, he sends the fiery tendril hurtling towards the assailants, ensnaring them in its fiery embrace. The flames do not scorch their flesh, but bind them in place, rendering them powerless and petrified. In that moment, it becomes clear – Thrystan is not merely a Scorcher; he possesses the legendary Dragonfire within him.

The rest had retreated to a safer distance. Swiftly Mantegor raced down the slope. The Elder Dragon continued his efforts to free himself. Mantegor leapt the last remaining yards, the sword in his hand an arc of glittering steel as it descended towards the Elder Dragon's serpentine neck. The razor-sharp steel bit deep into the coiled muscles that protected the dragon's throat, half severing it. A gout of hot black blood splashed over Mantegor's arms and shoulders. It was over. The Elder Dragon lay dying at his feet. He peered up at his slayer. "So I die at last," he said. "Killed by the one I showed mercy, just as was prophesied."

Or at least he’d be there to help her clean up her own blood. Slate must’ve finished his directions to the massive man who must’ve also been a dragon shifter at one time, before the Heart of Magic had been stolen from them. The rest of the crowd backed up, and Gator took a defensive stance. Since she hadn’t been listening to Slate when he was talking to the other dragon, she didn’t know for sure what was about to happen, until she utilized her mind’s eye and realized she was meant to attack this gigantic warrior.

“If we don’t slay it, it will kill us.” Arth furrowed his brows. Slay? Lucas wanted to actually kill the dragon? Draphiron let out a deafening screech, then it charged at Lucas once again and swung its long tail. Janshai immediately came to intercept the strike, but his scythe wasn’t enough to break through the rough scales of the beast. And so the strong impact dealt by the tail had swept Janshai to the side, sliding him on the blue floor. ‘I’ve watched long enough … I have to save the boss,’ Arth thought. He stomped one foot forward on the floor and then rushed towards the beast. Raising his left hand, he cast ice materialization.