There was a certain degree of nostalgia fighting as a party. The first time it had happened, it was also against a dragon, if one could call a level four guardian that looked like one. Back then, Dallion had teamed up with Gloria to defeat the sand dragon—a seemingly undefeatable creature that used the desert terrain to its advantage. Aquilequia did no such thing—she didn’t have to.

At any point, three of the dragon’s instances remained in different spots in the air. Each of them let out scales and fire, while also engaging in direct melee attacks with its wings and tail. Interestingly enough, unlike the younger dragons, Aquilequia never tried to use her teeth in combat.

Gripping a lance tightly with one hand, the giant metalin armor sped through the air, attempting to strike the great dragon. The devastating multi-attack struck the left side of Aquilequia, tearing off clusters of scales. Unfortunately, the moment that happened, the instance faded away, effectively negating the effects of the attack.

“Damn it!” Dallion hissed. His attempts to use force splitting on the creature had failed again. To make it even more annoying, it didn’t seem that he was far off.

Abla’s blade once more flew up from the ground, striking the head of the dragon. Despite all its power, though, the only thing it managed to achieve was a slight scar on the beast’s eyelid.

“Lux!” Dallion summoned his bladebow. “Hit and run! Constantly!”

Yes, boss! the firebird chirped, as it propelled the weapon at the speed of sound.

The approach wasn’t what Dallion initially had in mind. Originally, he had meant for Lux to use the bladebow to fire a bolt at such speed, but the current approach seemed even better.

Another ray of destruction pierced the sky, piercing through two instances of Aquilequia. Naturally, none of them became reality. On the positive side, that gave enough of an opening for the Count to engage the remaining one, finally injuring the dragon’s right arm.

A roar of pain and agony resounded as dragon blood was spilled for the very first time. It was more than a wound, shattering the concept of the dragon’s infallibility. Due to all the losses up to now, everyone—Dallion included—regarded it as invincible. A direct wound proved that it was just another awakened monster.

More attacks followed from the ground. The few survivors had made use of all their artifacts, now targeting the dragon with whatever means they had. One shattered the ground he stood on, with the sole goal of creating rocks to haul against the monster. It was less effective than weapons, but when someone with a body trait of over ninety threw a rock, it had the same effect as a catapult.

The pain emanating from Aquilequia doubled as the dragon split into four instances. Each concentrated on a different target.

Taking advantage of the casting pause, Dallion did another spark infused spiral attack. The action was painful, causing his arm to go numb, as he suspected it would. What he didn’t count on was Aquilequia choosing to take on the attack head on.

Scales burst, creating a pattern on the amber body. The beast ignored that, letting out a breath of fire forward.

Dallion had only a moment to decide. Thanks to his scholar skills, he could see a few instances that would avoid the flame. However, making them reality would also fade his recent attack.

“Vih, expand!” Dallion ordered, deciding to take the chance.

The shield blocked the torrent of flame, creating a cone of safety behind it. In the real world, its size merely doubled, but that was enough for Dallion to avoid serious damage. Sadly, the same couldn’t be said for the item.

That’s it for me, Vihrogon said as drops of molten metal fell from the shield’s surface. It was a pleasure being with you. A bit stubborn, but all in all, not the worst owner a companion guardian could have.

I’ll bring you back! Dallion’s heart tightened. He had assumed that the shield would manage to withstand one hit. Clearly, he was mistaken. Just like I did with Gleam.

I’ll be waiting. Just try to add a bit more style to my new home.

Within Dallion’s personal realm, the dryad’s domain spontaneously exploded into flames, burning up to the ground.

Before him, the dragon split again. It was visible to the plain eye that the attacks against it were having an effect. Magic was no longer able to keep up, barely covering the patches resulting from the inflicted damage.

Combining music and magic, Dallion played a chord on his harpsisword, sending stands of purple all over the dragon. With the beast’s aether layer weakened, they managed to grab hold. The moment they did, the instances faded away.

“Can you force split?” the Count shouted.

“Can Abla?” Dallion asked, already seeing what the other was going for.

“Enough,” came the response from the ground.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Two more of Aquilequia’s instances faded, leaving only the one near the ground. A new wave of fire covered the terrain, aiming to burn any and all enemies there. Dragon and human corpses alike were consumed by the flames, along with several survivors. The unfortunate members of the inner sanctum had made the same mistake Dallion had, assuming that their gear would withstand the attack.

All that managed to survive only did so because they were out of range of the flame blast.

“We must do it now!” the Count shouted.

“Wait for her split,” Dallion said. “Then attack. We’ll deal with the rest.”

Out of all of them, the Count’s armor had the greatest chance of success. Dallion and Alba just had to make sure that the attack took place.

Predictably, the dragon split into three instances. Apparently, maintaining four proved too much. Just as before, each of them picked a different target, engaging it with extreme aggressiveness.

Don’t be foolish, dear boy, Adzorg said. You’re doing good progress. Slow and steady wins the race.

Internally, Dallion could only smile. While the saying was mostly correct, it only held true as long as everything else remained the same. The dragon was wounded, but the people fighting it weren’t much better. All three of the major attackers had suffered in one way or another. Not acting now would allow the dragon to pick them off one at a time, even at the price of potentially serious wounds.

With one swift action, Dallion brought all his weapons close to him, then returned them to his realm. His fingers moved at a frantic pace, starting another ray of destruction spell.

Within seconds, one of Aquilequia’s instances was less than a hundred feet away. Her massive head seemed to grin as she opened her mouth, sending a new torrent of fire. The same occurred in all three instances as well.

So, that’s the choice you’re giving us, Dallion thought. No matter what happened, one target was likely to die.

“Just do it!” The count used his living armor to thrust forward, lance at the ready.

Taking a deep breath, Dallion did. Time and reality stopped as the tug of war commenced. The dragon seemed to be focused on killing Abla, but in no circumstances was willing to have anyone decide for it. In contrast, the duke and Dallion had put their lives on the line to avoid such an outcome.

Abla joined in on Dallion’s side, focusing on the instance in which the Count and Aquilequia clashed. Fire went over all humans, spreading the pain to their originals. Dallion didn’t lose concentration. Ignoring the pain, he focused all his mental energy on forcing the reality he wanted.

Just a little more! He told himself.

The dragon kept pulling to its own choice—the death of Abla and Tors. The strength of both sides was almost equal, each gaining a slight advantage only to lose it immediately after. The result was a toss of the coin. And then, Aquilequia made her fatal mistake. Instead of keeping at it, she changed target, switching to the reality in which Dallion would die. One could say that it was a good strategic choice, although the timing was off.

The single moment of hesitation during the switch allowed Dallion and Abla to gain an advantage for their version of reality, and in the short amount of time remaining, the dragon wasn’t able to compensate.

In the blink of the eye, the flames that went through Dallion and his companions on the ground vanished, along with the dragon itself. Only one instance remained and in it, Aquilequia’s flames melted off the Count’s massive metalin armor, while he managed to thrust the tip of his lance into an area already weakened by Dallion’s spiral attacks.

The dragon twisted her head upwards, in a roar of agony and pain. Losing strength, the body was no longer able to maintain its weight in the sky. The creature reverted to the use of magic to compensate.

“No, you don’t!” the Count shouted.

The top layers of the lance peeled off, revealing an entirely new weapon in its core; it was a weapon that Dallion instantly recognized, created for the sole purpose of draining magic from its target.

Mage killer, he thought.

Magic threads drained away, sucked into the lance’s core, leaving the massive body like water on glass. All the aether patches covering Aquilequia vanished, including the entire purple wing. Now, there wasn’t anything left keeping her in the air.

“Abla, Tors!” Dallion shouted. “Get out of there!”

Both awakened followed his command, moving away from the dragon crashing down. The entire ground shook.

For a fraction of a second, a rectangle with the creature’s health emerged, telling Dallion that finally he had won. Yet, the cost was considerate. A total of five people remained on the battleground: he, Abla, Tors, and one other survivor. In effect, one could say that the survivors were four—even with his metalin armor, there was no way that the Count would survive for long. Dallion could attempt a healing spell to make him last a bit longer, but he didn’t want to risk breathing life back into the dragon.

Be careful! Giaccia said from Dallion’s domain.

Hardly had she done so when Aquilequia’s body started glowing. The orange skin and scales lit up as if they were made of light. For a moment, it seemed that the whole mass would explode in a ball of flame. It didn’t, collapsing in upon itself.

“Crap!” Dallion said. He remembered what would follow from here. Being creatures of intense magic, killing them didn’t just result in a simple death. The lesser dragons of the nest didn’t have the critical mass of magic needed to reach such an effect, but Aquilequia had. “Dragon shadow!” he shouted, giving a chance for everyone else to prepare.

A single dot of orange light remained in the center of what had been the dragon. A split second later, it ballooned back out, yet instead of turning into a void being it transformed into an aether creature.

“What happened?” Dallion wondered, seeing a new smaller dragon emerge.

The being was closer to a dragonlet than an actual dragon, barely five times larger than Dallion himself. Smooth-skinned, and made entirely of aether, it flew from spot to spot with the speed of a lightning bolt.

“What are you?” Dallion summoned his harpsisword.

“Surprised?” Aquilequia asked, her anger replaced by unadulterated amusement. “Moonstone dragons don’t leave shadows. We transform into something completely different.”

“Moonstone dragons?”

“Our hearts are Moonstones. After my death, that’s what I’ll leave behind.” The dragon darted towards Dallion, claws extended. Having reaction and perception traits over ninety, he was able to counter the attack with a new spiral strike, though the only thing that he achieved was to cause Aquilequia to swerve and avoid it. “Assuming you manage to kill me.”

“I helped kill you once,” Dallion said, using his music skills to probe the new form of the creature.

“That was before. This time, there’s no one to help you.”