《Die, Dragon, Die!》33. Dragons Fighting Dragons

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Leo and the red dragon parted. Although Leo’s body was smaller and his legs stubbier, the red dragon’s neck and tail were so much thinner that Leo had a weight advantage. The two circled one another, eyes narrowed, snarling. The red dragon feinted toward Leo’s party, and Leo lunged to block his path. All at once, the red dragon pivoted and bit at Leo’s shoulder instead. Blood spurted. Leo roared and slapped the red dragon with his powerful tail. The red dragon stumbled and fell back, releasing its hold on Leo’s neck.

Lightning rippled toward the cultists. In the split second before it struck, one of the cultists shouted an incantation and threw their book forward. A wall of water rose up in front of them. The lightning slammed into it instead. Shouting another incantation, the cultist pushed both hands forward. The electrified wave rushed toward Jet and the others.

“Cancel your spell!” Jet shouted, falling back.

“Magic doesn’t work like that!” Gideon snapped in return.

Elly snatched up Kat and retreated to the other side of the doors. Angel strode ahead, lithely leaping to the side. Jet caught up with Gideon, who panted heavily, arms pumping, running at a pathetic full speed. Grunting, Jet scooped Gideon up over his shoulder and ran through the doorway, slamming one of the doors shut behind him.

The wave crashed into the closed door. Electricity crawled over the door, and remnant water sloshed over the party’s feet. Jet set Gideon down, turning to find another wave surging toward them.

Jet’s brows furrowed. He flicked his sword and materialized a block of ice over the casting cultist’s head. The cultist looked up, distracted, and a block of ice smashed into his face. He stumbled back, stunned.

Gideon stepped forward. “Die, dragon, die!”

Lightning shot from his tome and struck the stumbling cultist. He jolted, then slumped over, still.

Even as he did, another cultist gestured toward Gideon. An ice spike whooshed through the air and struck Gideon’s shoulder. With a muffled grunt, he fell backward.

“Gideon!” Elly ran to his side.

Jet charged at the cultists, even as the cultists ran toward him. He pointed his sword at the ground, summoning cold. Before him, the wet floor became icy and slick. The cultists’ feet pedaled. Several fell over. One smacked his head against the stone wall and slumped, eyes rolled back in his head.

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Jet leaped onto the icy floor and slid forward, skating over it with practiced efficiency. The cultists struggled up around him. Jet slashed at arms and legs, aiming not at the vitals but to wound. Sliding on their backs over the floor, the cultists struck at him as he passed. Shallow wounds accumulated on his legs, but nothing serious.

“Okay. Three. Two.” Elly yanked out the ice spike.

Gideon screamed, grabbing at the hole in his shoulder. He leaned up to look at the wound and immediately turned his eyes away, his face paling. Blood soaked into his dark robes. He gasped for breath, biting his lip. “It hurts, it hurts, Elly…”

She lifted her staff. “O High God, please bless this one, heal his wounds and bind what has been broken…”

Motes of light seeped into Gideon’s wound. It scabbed over, then began to close. New flesh formed from within the hole, rushing upward. Gideon screamed and thrashed, biting his lip until it bled.

A blast of high-powered water scythed through the stone inches from Jet’s feet. He leaped back, dancing toward the door as the beam followed him. The thin sheet of ice melted under the cultists’ bodies, and they climbed back to their feet. In the rear, several of the cultist casters grouped together, chanting as one over a large tome that floated in the air in the midst of their circle.

“Gideon! We need you, now!” Jet shouted. He backed toward the door as the weapon-wielding cultists formed a line to protect the casters. Most bled, but still stood. Jet scowled. I should have gone for the kill. Even if most of them protected their vitals, maybe I could have gotten rid of one or two!

Gideon sat up, his face ghostly pale, panting for breath. He climbed to his feet, wobbly, and put a hand to the wall. “I’m coming…”

Angel turned around and spun her wrists, passing mana toward Jet. “I’m ready when you need me!”

The lead cultist turned toward the dragons. “Deific Dragon Arden, we need your power now!”

In response, the red dragon arched its neck and roared. Smoke blasted from its mouth, filling the chamber. Leo stumbled back, coughing, and Arden pounced on him, digging into his softer underbelly. As smoke obscured the dragons’ fight, horrible choking screams emanated from the direction of Leo.

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“Leo!” Elly shouted, pained.

“He’s a dragon! Who cares?” Jet shouted back.

Gideon pointed at Jet. “Well… said.”

“He’s our friend!” Elly replied fiercely.

The smoke blew over them, obscuring their vision. They and the cultists began to cough. Eyes burning, Jet forced himself to stare through the smoke, at where the cultist’s casting circle glowed a pale blue.

“Gideon! Fire at that light!” he called.

The sound of coughing was his only reply. He glanced back to find Gideon leaning against the wall, still pale, his shirt pulled over his mouth, coughing furiously.

Dammit, mages are so damn unreliable… Jet grit his teeth. He stared into the smoke at the dim shadow of Leo. For a long moment, he hesitated, but then he scowled. What am I thinking of? Anything to destroy the True Dragon. Even if it means working alongside a lesser dragon! Hell, I’ll take a lesser dragon over Gideon any day!

“Leo! Flap your wings! Clear the smoke!” Jet shouted.

There was a pause. All at once, a tearing, ripping sound echoed through the smoke, and then heavy flapping, almost like the crack of breaking bones, sounded out. The smoke began to lessen, funneled through the roof and out of the chamber.

As the smoke cleared, the mages’ circle became visible once more. Behind him, Gideon stopped choking and stood, wiping his eyes from the smoke.

Jet pointed. “Gideon, fire!”

Gideon cleared his throat, then raised his tome, squinting at the mages. “Ring Lightning, critical cast! Die, dragon, die!”

A ring of lightning shot from his hand and flew at the cultists. Their leader’s eyes widened, and he roared, “We only have a few seconds left before the Draconic Tsunami launches! He can only cast once in that time! Block that lightning with your lives!”

The melee fighters shouted and ran toward the lightning. It smashed into one after another, and they toppled backward, black scorch marks burned into their flesh.

“Angel, now!” Gideon shouted, as the pages flipped yet again.

Angel spun around and thrust her hands toward him. Mana rushed into him, reinvigorating Gideon. He took a deep breath, and his eyes shone. Lifting his tome, he smiled, just slightly. “Lightning, critical cast! Die, dragon… die!”

As thick around as a grown man, a bolt of lightning flew toward the ring of mages. The leader’s eyes widened, and he threw himself to the side, narrowly dodging it. The bolt slammed into the circle. The mages screamed. One, two, three fell to the floor, blackened, their bodies burned to a crisp. Another three twitched and thrashed on the floor. Only one remained standing, but alone, couldn’t maintain the spell. The tome dropped to the ground, and the blue light faded. A page burned out of the tome, but nothing happened. The spell had failed.

Jet let out a sigh of relief. He ran to the cultist’s leader and grabbed the man by the collar of his dark robes before he could rise. Putting his sword to the man’s throat, he snarled, “Surrender, or surrender your head.”

The cultist laughed. “Deific Dragon Arden! Kill them all!”

Behind them, the smoke cleared. Leo flapped his wings one last time, then slumped. Blood stained his yellow scales from his shoulder to his mid-back, where bone peeked through a deep gash in his flesh. Leaking water from his mouth, he sprawled on the floor, barely breathing.

The red dragon stood over him, eyes burning. It stepped forward, growling deep in its throat. Steam hissed from the corners of its jowls.

Jet swallowed. He stepped back, dragging the cultist with him. “Kill us, and you kill him, too.”

“It would be my honor!” the cultist shouted, eyes gleaming in rapture. “Cleanse my flesh and purify my soul! Allow me to be reborn as a dragon!”

The dragon heaved its head back. Fire glimmered in its throat.

A dry laugh rang out. “Die, dragon, die!”

Lightning struck the dragon in the chest. It stiffened. A half-blast of fire died in its mouth, and it fell over sideways with an almighty thump.

Still laughing, Gideon wobbled over, barely standing. He kicked the dragon in the head, overbalanced, and fell to his knees. Almost to himself, he muttered, “Stupid dragons. You should all die.”

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