Rage Of The Dragon [ CERTIFIED — SECRETS ]

The sky over the Kingdom of Aethelgard did not darken with clouds; it darkened with scales.

Elara didn't flinch. She drove the Shard into the stone at her feet, triggering a wave of absolute cold. For a heartbeat, the dragon’s fire sputtered. In that moment of frozen silence, man and beast locked eyes. Elara saw not just a monster, but a grieving king of a dead era, looking at the thieves who had desecrated his rest. Rage of the Dragon

Ignis-Kahl let out a roar that shook the foundations of the world, but he did not strike. Perhaps it was the Shard’s magic, or perhaps he realized that leaving the people to starve in the wasteland he’d created was a far more poetic vengeance than a quick death by fire. The sky over the Kingdom of Aethelgard did

As the Wyrm landed, the impact shattered every window in the city. His eyes were like twin furnaces, glowing with a sentient, ancient hatred. He opened his maw, the air around his teeth beginning to ripple with white-hot intensity. For a heartbeat, the dragon’s fire sputtered

In the capital, King Alaric watched the horizon glow a sickly, permanent orange. "It isn't hunger," the court mage whispered, hands trembling over a scrying orb. "It is retribution. We have stolen his marrow, and now he comes to reclaim the debt in ash."