Chapter 35 - Aftermath

Firm steps echoed in the stone hallway. The iron doors decisively opened and four draconics entered the Royal Chamber.

The draconic citadel was a fortress protected by stony fortifications, runic patterns and the geographical elements surrounding the city. Solid walls linked the ramparts built on two different ridges, completely blocking the path from the hilly area following the Holy Drake Saurn Forest.

Behind the wall a long rampart went from the tower guarding the gate to the inner bastion, where the draconic lord lived. Inside the rampart a long hallway lead to the Royal Chamber, where the most important meetings occurred.

A mighty black scaled draconic entered the room, followed by three elite guards. The four warriors knelt “My Lord”.

“Congratulations for the victory, Commander” The draconic lord was an emerald green scaled female draconic. Her age was difficult to grasp, but her body was vibrant and powerful, her cultivation unfathomable. Just standing near her lower cultivators could feel suppressed, a heavy burden weighting on them.

Her deep eyes gave the impression to see the true laws and principles of the world. Her breath agitated the chi in the room, causing it to swirl around her and submit to her command.

Juurkaena, Lord of the Wyrm Plateau Draconic Ditadel, she was by far the strongest draconic in the citadel… and its last defensive line.

“My Lord, your sight was as brilliant as always, the demons didn’t expect our main force to ambush them. They weren’t prepared to lunch an attack to the citadel and focused their efforts on reaching the Wyrm Plateau with the VIII Legion. Although the fight was harsh and we have suffered some losses, the enemy plan has failed and there have been significant casualties among the legionaries. Our estimations say that at least 25% of the VIII Legion can’t join next battles because of death, imprisonment or wounds”.

“The skills of the demon legions are extraordinary, any other fighting force would have suffered more serious casualties… this result can be considered a huge win for our race”.

“My Lord, I’m sorry to inform you that the elite guard Drenzur has sacrificed his life for the sake of our race. Thanks to his sacrifice we were able to break the enemy formation and win the battle. Also… his daughter has lost her life too”. The words of the commander were full of sorrow. The Purple Thunder Drenzur was his closest friend and brother of hundreds of battles.

Before the ambush he had promised to his dear friend that if anything happened he would have taken care of his family. But even before a day had passed from Drenzur’s death, his daughter war already no more. These events hardly hit the draconic commander.

Juurkaena stared at him “Kursaek, commander of the citadel’s guards and the dearest friend I can rely on, everyone here is in your debt. No draconic ignores what you have sacrificed for our race… and if others might forget I won’t ever”.

“Neither us!” the three elite guards behind the commander stated at once.

“Kursaek, stand glorious. Honour your friend taking care of his son and leading this citadel army as he would have desired. Shine brightly for him too… transform that sorrow in your heart in fury to fight our enemies!”.

“Yes, my Lord!”.

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Knocking at the door “General, urgent news from the draconic realm!”.

“Gasvar, come forward” Caesar spoke, still looking from the window at the fortified mountain ridges. During his stay in the huge demon fortress he had further improved the already deadly defences.

There was no sign of any possible attack to the symbol of Demons’ power, but he knew time was merciless. Even the most mighty forces would weaken one day. When that time arrives their survival will depend on the preparations they made during their glorious days.

“Here you are, Ceasar” his trusted lieutenant gave him the document.

“Those fools have moved before being ready, this is utter arrogance!”. Ceasar exclaimed while reading the news. “The defeat has moved the Imperial’s opinion, they want to get things moving quickly to show no weakness to our enemies… and allies”.

“The IV Legion is on his way, what do you plan to do?” Gasvar asked.

The demon general looked at the new fortifications and outposts on the mountain range, the works had just been completed and the result was satisfying.

“It’s time for the X Legion to join the battlefield again. Call the captains and make sure everyone’s ready. We’re moving to the draconic realm ourselves!”.

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Pain, that’s everything he could feel. Pain in the arms, back, shoulders and legs. Pain in the head, where he had been hit before losing his senses.

Some medications prevented his wounds to bleed, solid metal bars enclosed the dirty and small environment where he was enchained. Dark chains bounded him to the stony ground of the cramped cave.

“I became a prisoner, fuck!” Davult cursed. He gave his all in the fight against the draconics, but after having sustained many injuries he got knocked out. His thoughts went to his brothers in arms, he sincerely hoped his sacrifice hadn’t been meaningless.

The prisons of the draconic citadel were underground, caved in the mountain. Impregnable stones and cultivation suppressing chains prevented any chance to escape.

Heavy steps echoed in the cave, the dull sounds got closer and closer.

“You’re awake” an emotionless voice stated. A huge black scaled draconic warrior was eyeing the demon, another grey one of smaller size was at his right.

“You’re the commander…” “Yes, tell me the number and composition of your forces, how many reinforcements are coming and the cultivation level, secret techniques and mindset of your commanders”.

The draconic’s voice was still colourless, his eyes as cold as ice. “Yes, as long as you don’t hurt me I’ll talk. Our total forces are 500.000 cultivators big, another million is on his way, 600.000 are Souls and Beastmen. The general who’s leading them is an imperial son, I don’t know him”.

The draconic commander gazed at the demon for a couple of seconds before uttering “Deal with him”.

As he came he left, while the grey scaled draconic opened the cell with a devious smile on his face.

Noticing the draconic claws Davult paled, the worst was not even close. He screamed in his mind “Please let me die!”.

Cries, screams, curses, tears and blood was all that those prison bars saw for many days to come.

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He woke up in a comfortable bed, full of bandages. He felt exhausted, but still alive.

Relief was soon replaced by regret, rage and hatred “Father, sister, I’m gonna survive, no matter the cost. I need to survive to avenge you… I’ll kill’em all!”.

His strong thirst for power and will to dominate all his enemies moved something inside him. The rich true dragon bloodline was slowly being activated, bringing changes which would spread huge waves among the sentient races.