Fire Dragon King Demolition Fist Novels & Stories

“Don’t I need to pack and…” Waving a dismissive hand she laughs. “That’s what servants are for, Little Sister. Right now this is your job.” The first dragon I face is my nephew, Orion. He is a very unique type of dragon, a combination of fire, sky, and water--a storm dragon. There have been other storm dragons in the past, but currently, he is the only one living in the Celestial Kingdom. “He’s just a boy!” I glare at Ona. “I am not hurting him.”

She glided lightly over the ground, her magic both elegant and devastating. On the far flank, Oscar, the second son of the King of Dreadmoor — a mountain of a man — slammed his fists into the ground. The earth split beneath the Dark Knights’ feet, jagged pillars of stone erupting to trap and crush. His dark armour gleamed, his black eyes blazing with controlled rage “Try getting through this, you bastards!” he growled.

“Uncle Primus…” But my uncle, King Primus Majere, isn’t listening. He’s taken his bipedal form, dressed again as the courtier that the False Queen demanded, his hand tightly wrapped around the neck of a young man with long black hair. As I watch, the man begins to change, his hair flowing and white, his eyes shining silver. It’s Atremi. He’s come to meet us. “YOU BASTARD!!” The Dragon King snarls, his tail whipping around him as he pins another drake to the ground. “You killed my wife! You killed Carnelia, and now you will die with her!”

He waved his hand, but not looking back at me. I blew a happy sigh as the thorn in my chest disappeared. It was difficult to hurt Pyro, I would mess all of them. From King Ice, King Wind, King Lightning and...King Water. All of them were over protecting each other. I would not be shocked if one of them killed me if I hurt King Fire again. I remember the way Pyro looked at me. There was a spark of admiration that I could not understand. I gasped my chest as I remembered that he viewed my mountains! He also pulled my underwear, and no protest came from me.

I felt his shoulders dislocate as he screamed. “Do you yield?” I asked him loudly as he trashed around trying to get loose from my grip. I looked at the Elders and they nodded their approval. I let go of his arms and he winced as they flopped down next to him. I grabbed his head and pulled it up exposing his throat. My hand morphed into a claw again as I gave him one last look and ripped his throat out. His dragon whimpered once as he shimmered and disappeared back to the realm of dragons. His host was dead and he would return to Typhon’s lair and explain why he had returned alive. Abeloth blew smoke from his nostrils before merging with me again.

"Why should I be scared? If we just kill them all, then it's over!" "Roar!!!" Fafnir's spear flashed with a dragon silhouette, his expression grim as he kept up with Caleb, his spear erupting with deadly flames. It was as if the three of them were beating up the thousands instead! "Apocalyptic Dragonflame, First Style—Dragonbreath!" Caleb growled as he leaped into the crowd of enemies, the Dharmic Cutter ablaze with black flames. "Die!!!" Shunk! With just a swing, dozens were cut in half, their bodies ablaze in black fire!

He wanted to make sure I was okay, that I wouldn't break apart before the inevitable end. I nodded once, my face set in a mask of grim acceptance. A column of pure, white-hot fire erupted from the dragon's throat, consuming the body in seconds, turning the physical pain into a blinding light. When the flames died down, only a handful of fine, grey ash remained. We placed them in a small urn, setting it right beside Derek’s. "Those two will spend all their time fighting up there, for sure," Ava said softly. We both let out a small, wet chuckle, hugging her tight to find some scrap of human warmth.

During my time, however, I catch bits of information that pique my interest. While the Dragon King is the ruler of this land, there isn’t much known about him, or the Royal Family. I learned many things this eventing as I dusted cornices atop wobbling ladders. His name, Zarek Nightflame, rests heavily on my mind. No matter how much I try to ignore it, I find myself speaking it in silence, just to see how it feels on my tongue.

Lysan Dusk lay on his bed, watching the crack on the ceiling as tears spilled from his eyes, his heart contracted painfully inside his chest. He tried to call for help, but his voice barely came out as a whisper. He heard voices in the next room, “He has to go, he knows too much.” More tears spilled from his eyes as he struggled to breathe. Three years ago, he killed the ruthless Demon king. He delivered humanity from suffering. He stopped the Demon king before he could unleash hell on earth, and this was how he was rewarded. By being poisoned.

Immediately after, his punch sent Auric flying! Low dragon roars were also heard on stage! Thud! Auric flew out and staggered dozens of meters back before he steadied himself. His fists were also scorched black and bloody by the red airwaves. A hint of shock flashed in his eyes by the intense pain. His fists had reached the force of 50 tons! However, the Dragon Fist displayed by Fennel surpassed his punches! “Have you entered the sixth zone of kingship?” Auric asked in horror. Fennel said calmly, “I entered just now.”