A million thoughts were swirling in Glavas' mind at that time. He wanted to speak to his son, to help him calm down and to somehow prevent any sort of violence their reunion might bring. However, there was simply no time for any of that. The dragon leapt at him almost immediately. The strike was so fast that the hunter didn't even manage to react properly. He was still in so much of a shock that his movements were suddenly becoming sluggish and uncoordinated.

A small explosion could be heard as two powerful gusts of air magic erupted from the dragon's feet, propelling him forward. Glavas moved out of the way purely thanks to his instincts alone. However, as the pain in his forearm suggested, he did not escape unscathed. His eyes briefly slid down and looked at the claw marks left in his flesh. Blood was trickling down his fingers but the pain was quickly numbing down, being replaced by only a slight tingling.

"Poison?!" Glavas thought and this realization finally snapped him out of his stupor, just in time to duck under the dragon's next attack. Droplets of viscous, purple liquid dripped down from Surdi's fingers. It didn't take long for the hunter to realize where did his son learn to reproduce such a chemical.

He wanted to reach for his sealing scroll and quickly suck the potion out of his body, but the furious dragonling did not give him a moment of rest. Failing to kill Glavas with the past two strikes must've infuriated him even further because now he was striking relentlessly. It was a flurry of claws that the elven hunter wasn't prepared for. Every dragon fought differently. Quadrupeds pounced and crushed, the long ones were casting spells, and the bipedal were usually fighting with whatever weapons they could get their hands on, accompanied by their respective elements. There was, however, nothing usual about Surdi.

Glavas watched as the poisoned claws tried to strike him. Sometimes, he grabbed the boy's hand and pushed him away, but if hands failed to connect, his legs quickly followed. Surdi seemed to have no trouble balancing on his hands or even briefly on his tail, only to free up an appendage or two that could've been used for striking. It wasn't a fighting style. It was instinctual, primal, and unrefined. Despite that, however, it also offered few openings.

When the boy's attacks would miss, sometimes, a gust of air or a small explosion would change the trajectory of his strike or add more force to it. Glavas needed two additional pairs of his dark hands to even have a chance at blocking everything. This was magic fighting him. Raw, wild, and untamed magic, which had nestled in the boy's mind and subdued his own consciousness.

Dark hands crawled through the shadows on the ground and tried grabbing a hold of the dragon, but any attempt at restraining him was met with failure.

Hatred formed in the corner of Glavas' mind. Not one for the boy, but for himself. There was no time to be gentle. He tried to lie to himself that he could resolve this without fighting, but his time was running out. His forearm had already gone completely numb and all the fighting was making his heart pump blood even faster, spreading the poison further and further.

He screamed, pushing back his concerns, and sank his elbow right onto the top of the dragon's head. He knew what he was doing. Glavas had fought members of all sorts of species in the past, but usually, he resorted to as least violent an approach as possible. This philosophy led to him learning precisely how much force such a strike would need to render someone unconscious, or at least daze them. However, despite the decades of experience, the hunter failed to take into account his own biggest weakness. No matter how hard he tried to persuade himself that there was no other way to stop Surdi's rage, he couldn't summon the necessary strength. His own love stopped him and so instead of a knockout strike, the dragon felt but an uncomfortable tap against his head.

Infuriated, he sank his fangs into Glavas' shoulder. The strike and its surprising ineffectiveness left the hunter wide open for a counterattack. The boy pushed and wrestled the elf onto the ground, pressing his back against the cold pavement. Glavas screamed as he felt the boy pull without his jaw letting go. Was he trying to bite out of a piece of him? It was a logical assumption. Right now, his instincts were that of a raging animal. Surdi's hands approached Glavas' body and if it wasn't for his dark magic protecting him, the dragon would surely claw his belly open.

Glavas summoned more dark hands, which grabbed onto the dragon, pulling him closer. If he was allowed to retreat, with a bite of that strength, he would surely take something with him.

Surdi let out a loud growl as the arms pulled him closer. He began trashing and squirming, trying to desperately pull himself away from Glavas. Tiny tendrils of darkness squirmed their way into his mouth and tried to pry his fanged maw open, but the boy's strength, enhanced by the raging magic, wasn't wavering.

He dug his feet to the ground, ready to blast himself away with more winds or explosions but the hunter reacted in time. A sheet of darkness spilt onto the floor around them and lifted his feet off the floor. When the wind magic erupted, instead of pushing Surdi away, it pressed him even harder against the hunter's chest and sent them both sliding along the floor a couple of metres away.

Glavas wrapped his arms around the dragon, holding him with all the strength he could muster. Darkness weaved itself around Surdi, not allowing him to strike further.

The hunter knew what to do. The idea of a final solution came shortly after he began feeling the poison spread from the bite wound. One of the dark hands brought forth Glavas' sword. Its edge was coated in the same purple liquid.

"All you need is a tiny cut. He won't even feel it. Then it's just about who will last longer. A tiny prick, nothing else. COME ON!" He thought, desperately trying to psyche himself up, but he hesitated for too long. The dragon's tail broke free of the dark shackles and wrapped around the sword. Unlike his father, the boy did not wait and sank the blade immediately into Glavas' leg.

The hunter screamed and out of desperation, summoned the sealing scroll. Maybe with the dragon restrained by the darkness, he could simply keep pulling the poison out of his body over and over until the boy would calm down.

As the scroll appeared and rolled open, Surdi's eyes immediately fixated on it. Even though his mind was mostly gone, the memories stayed. He knew what the tool was for and it scared him.

In one sharp movement, he opened his mouth, letting go of Glavas. He groaned as the teeth pulled out of the wound. This, however, was not a sign of capitulation, but something much worse. A dark-green mist began flowing out of the dragon's mouth.

"Flammable!" went through Glavas' mind. He briefly looked at the scroll and it didn't take long before its letters began glowing, sucking up the toxic gas. That, however, did not stop the dragon. There was no strategy to his attack. He simply wished to put out more magic than the scroll could absorb and then detonate them both.

The dark magic moved once again, giving up on the shape of hands and instead wrapping around the dragon like a single massive sheet. If the boy's scales were isolated from the outside world, then he wouldn't be able to absorb mana and would eventually run out. The only question that remained was whether he would run out first, or the scroll would sooner reach its limit.

The dragon, however, would not let himself be restrained that easily. He kept trashing and fighting against the darkness, not letting himself be separated from his only source of mana. A small tear formed in the corner of the hunter's eye. His left arm was completely numb, only resting on the dragon's back because the darkness was holding it. Even if he somehow managed to survive the planned detonation of Surdi's gaseous fire bomb, how would he continue? Thrice poisoned and with no time to get the poison out. No, there was not a single scenario in which this would end well. Half-paralyzed by the poison, he wouldn't stand a chance against the dragon. As a last-ditch effort, his darkness tried to pull the sword out of his leg, but since Surdi was now practically lying on it, the magic simply didn't have enough strength.

Glavas sighed. Death didn't bother him. He was prepared for it even since he was little. The path of a hunter was filled with dangers. People in this particular profession did not reach retirement. Especially not those who lived as long as he did. The reason for his tears, therefore, was not his demise. Instead, he thought of what he would be leaving behind. Once the rage would end, Surdi would know who he killed. To someone already plagued by his own past, this would be devastating. Glavas tried to think of something. A finger of darkness dipped itself into one of his wounds and began writing on the blank back of the sealing scroll. There were many things he wished to write, but he had to keep it simple.

"Don't blame yourself. It wasn't you. Take care of your sister. I love you both."

The hand had just finished writing the word "blame" when something strange happened. Beyond all the growling and hissing of the enraged dragonling, Glavas heard footsteps. Soft and slowly approaching footsteps, like those of an elderly person going for an afternoon stroll. He lifted his head and saw a man approaching them.

"One of Ruun's fuckers?!" he thought.

"Leave! PLEASE!" he yelled at the man, in hopes that he would at least let him finish writing his final message.

However, the person did not seem to listen. Instead, he only briefly put his finger against their lips, signalling Glavas to be quiet. The more the man approached, the more odd he seemed. The most beautiful thing about him was his unkept, messy, blond hair. The perfectly shaven face made him look as young as someone who had just finished their apprenticeship training. The shirt he wore may have been white once, just like his shorts, but was bearing countless stains that left it with a slightly brownish hue. The man's moccasins wonderfully muffled his approach up until now. Glavas briefly thought that the man must've had a private cobbler because his shoes seemed like something that wasn't being produced for at least several centuries now.

"Eigam..." the man spoke in a soft voice. "Dub kat andoh a jedop im cem zanaj enzirorpe oc ei, inen, a olhom ib tib."

Shivers ran down Glavas' spine. Those were the words of magic. No, not words, a whole sentence. And not a simple one either. He spoke as fluently as if it were his mother tongue. Then, a memory arose in the hunter's mind. Of course, there was one detail he had forgotten about. One crucial, terrifying detail. Ruun said that he couldn't carry out his plan alone. He would need help. A friend from the Circle of Valimar.

Glavas's breathing picked up the pace once again. Was this man really one of the wizards? The strongest of the strongest? Those who oversee order in the world? But if that were the case, what would happen to his children?

The man reached to the side. Cracks formed in the space around his hand, climbing higher and higher until the moment he closed his fist. With one movement, accompanied by the sound of shattered glass, he pulled out... something. A long rod of what could've only been described as tiny shards of black glass piled up on one another until they formed and decently long weapon.

"PLEASE, DON'T!" Glavas screamed and the man swung the magical "sword" towards them.

For a moment, Glavas had no idea what was happening. It was as if someone pulled him and Surdi apart and placed a glass pane between them. The pane then flew backwards, pushing the young dragon away while the space between them stretched like an elastic fabric. Then, as quickly as it began, it also stopped. Glavas was still lying on the floor, yet his son was now many metres away.

"Are you dying, hunter?" the man asked, his voice not suggesting even a spark of hostility.

"No. Please, my son–"

"Calm. I do not seek bloodshed. Rest for now. I will bring him back."

Surdi shook, dismissing the confusion of what had happened and once again took his battle stance on all four.

"Son killing his father without even knowing it," the man whispered to himself. "How terrible. Fate, know that your cruelty will not be tolerated."