A faint thunder rang across the sky as the swirling dark vortex above loomed heavier, casting an eerie shadow over the clearing. Sir William and his companions stood frozen, gazes locked on the humanoid shadow looming before them. The wolves flanking it snarled, their glowing eyes gleaming with malice, but they remained still as if awaiting orders.

Without warning, a thick and suffocating oppressive aura emanated from the shadowy figure. It was an unseen force, yet its weight pressed down on everyone like a crushing tide.

Sir William’s knees nearly buckled as he struggled to steady himself. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his sword hand trembled against the overwhelming force. “Ugh, what is this... what the hell is this creature?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, as goosebumps prickled his skin.

The Terean hounds, usually fearless, faltered. Though they maintained their defensive stance, their hesitation was evident, their growls softer, and their bodies tense.

“Senior…” Amabel whispered weakly, her voice trembling as she staggered, her balance giving way under the aura’s weight. Sylvia quickly caught her, her arm steadying the younger mage.

Sylvia held Amabel upright, though her own strength was faltering. Her knuckles whitened around her wand as she fought against the sickening sensation that gripped her. The aura seeped into their very beings as though stripping away their vitality and filling them with dread.

The oppressive force was unlike anything they had experienced—it reeked of death, despair, and an overwhelming sense of futility.

The shadow figure’s glowing red eyes brightened with a sinister intensity as its aura surged, more malevolent than before.

“Aelion,” the headmistress chanted, stepping forward beside Sir William. She held the wand with the Athia crystal affixed to it in her hand—the same wand Professor Gale had brought earlier. She lifted it, and the crystal glimmered faintly in the dim light.

A translucent light barrier shimmered into existence around the group, emanating from her wand and enveloping them in a protective glow. The oppressive aura relented slightly, but the figure’s gaze sharpened as though irritated by her interference.

The headmistress did not pause. With another chant, the Athia crystal at her wand’s tip flared brilliantly, its light cutting through the darkness like a blade. The clearing was bathed in radiant light for a fleeting second, dispersing the figure’s malevolent aura and forcing it to recoil slightly.

The oppressive force dissipated, and the group could breathe once more. Sir William stood straighter, his grip on his sword tightening as the trembling in his limbs subsided. Amabel steadied herself, supported by Sylvia, who now expressed determination.

Though the shadowy figure betrayed no emotion, its stance shifted slightly. Its annoyance was evident in the way the wolves around it snarled more fiercely.

The headmistress stood firm, her gaze unwavering. “Vile creature, state yourself,” she commanded, her tone resolute and undeterred by the oppressive presence before her.

The figure tilted its head back slightly, lowering it again slowly and deliberately. “You… dare command me?” it rasped, its voice hoarse and tinged with irritation. Then, with a sudden surge of anger, it snarled, “Do you even know who you are TALKING TO?”

Its final words echoed as a wave of malevolent aura burst, aimed at the headmistress. She raised the wand with swift reflexes, the Athia crystal flaring briefly as it dispelled the aura once more. Her expression remained resolute, her voice steady. “You do not belong here. A creature of the dark such as yourself has no place in this land, where the essence of life thrives. Your existence is an affront to all that lives.”

A guttural, mocking laugh erupted from the figure, resonating through the woods. Its head leaned back in amusement before snapping forward, its red eyes gleaming. “I have no obligation to answer the likes of you. But know this—right here, right now, I will slaughter all of you. I will consume your life force, draining every last shred until there is nothing left.”

“Alastair,” Sir William said suddenly, his voice cutting through the tense air. His gaze was locked on the figure, his tone firm and unyielding.

“Your name is Alastair, Demon Lord Alastair.” sir William continue.

Shock rippled through the group. The headmistress turned to Sir William, her disbelief evident. Sylvia’s eyes widened, her hand tightening around her wand, and Amabel trembled slightly though she held her ground.

“This creature… it cannot be,” the headmistress thought, her mind racing. She turned to Sir William and asked, “Are you certain?”

“Yes,” Sir William said firmly, his eyes still fixed on the shadowy figure.

Alastair lowered his head momentarily, his irritation palpable. Slowly, he raised his head again, glowing red eyes locking on Sir William. “You…”he hissed, his voice seething with disdain. "I should have had those wretched witches kill all of you so-called knights, especially the one who stubbornly survived my reckoning.”

“Is he referring to Sir Francis?” Sylvia thought, her mind racing.

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“So, it was you,” Sir William said, his tone accusatory and sharp. “You were the one behind the witches’ attack on the castle, and again on Sir Francis’s convoy.”

Though his features were obscured, the faint suggestion of a grin could be discerned from the glint of his glowing eyes as though he relished the recognition.

"Sir William, we need to send this creature back to where it belongs. Its very presence taints this land," the headmistress said, her gaze steady as it shifted to him.

"I know," Sir William replied, acknowledging the grim reality. He added, "My lady, to be honest, I doubt my sword could even harm it. But magic, on the other hand, might be able to."

The headmistress turned toward Sylvia, Amabel, and Professor Gale. Though uncertainty flickered in their eyes, their expressions carried determination and resolve.

"I and the guardsmen will handle the wolf pack. We'll support you however we can," Sir William continued, his focus unwavering from the shadowy figure.

"Very well," the headmistress replied, her tone resolute. "I trust you to watch our backs."

With that, Sir William raised his voice in command. "Men, prepare for battle!"

The guardsmen rallied, raised their shields, and gripped their swords tightly, shifting from a defensive stance to one of determined offence.

Seeing Sir William and the guardsmen move into an offensive stance, Alastair grew visibly irritated. “You mortals think you have what it takes to challenge me?” he snarled, his voice laced with contempt. The thought of mere humans defying his authority was an insult too great to ignore.

“I’ll show you what it means to fight against me—against a Demon Lord,” he declared his tone swelling with pride.

From above, a faint roaring sound echoed out of the swirling vortex. Alastair’s gleaming eyes burned brighter as it proclaimed, “Behold your undoing, your demise, your death!”

All eyes turned skyward toward the vortex. “No...” Sir William muttered, fear creeping into his voice.

The headmistress remained silent, her lips pressed into a grim line. Beside her, Amabel clung tightly to Sylvia’s arm. “S-senior,” Amabel stammered, her voice trembling as her gaze locked onto the sky.

Slowly, from the centre of the vortex, a monstrous creature began to emerge. Its massive head pushed through first, followed by a pair of vast wings unfurled to reveal its enormous size.

“A d...dragon,” Professor Gale stammered, his voice barely audible as the creature fully emerged. Its eyes glowed an ominous red, scanning the group below with an unsettling, almost calculating malice. Hovering high in the sky, the beast let out a deafening roar reverberating across the land.

The sound made some guardsmen collapse to their knees, their weapons trembling. Sir William stood firm but could feel the weight of despair pressing heavily on his chest. His grip on his sword tightened, sweat dripping from his brow as he struggled to remain composed.

Alastair chuckled mockingly ,his laughter sharp and cruel. “This is how a Demon Lord fights,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “Now, mortals, prepare yourselves. Prepare for your demise.”

"Damn it!" Sir William cursed, his usual composure shattered as fear overtook him. "Retreat! Head to the woods!" he commanded, his voice desperate and urgent.

"Headmistress!" Sylvia called out, her tone filled with panic.

"Fall back! We cannot fight this!" the headmistress exclaimed, her voice resolute yet tinged with urgency. She knew that even their most robust protections would be futile against a dragon, let alone under the control of a Demon Lord. Their chances of survival were grim, but retreat was their only option.

Alastair, laughed mockingly as he watched them scatter. "Do you think you can outrun my dragon? My wrath? Your fates are sealed—death is imminent!" His voice dripped with malice and pride as he relished in their hopelessness.

Above, the dragon descended rapidly, its fiery eyes glowing brighter as it opened its massive jaws, revealing a blazing inferno ready to erupt.

"Go! Don't look back!" Sir William yelled, desperation thick in his voice. He knew the dragon's fire was inevitable, and time seemed to slow as chaos erupted around them. The group rushed toward the woods, their breaths ragged with fear.

Amidst the chaos, the headmistress stood her ground, her focus unwavering.

“My lady,” Sir William called her, but the headmistress remained resolute. In her mind, she knew there was no way they could survive the dragon’s attack, but the least she could do was buy them enough time to escape.

She extended her arm, with her hand held tightly to her wand. Her lips moved in a chant, words forming with purpose; however, before she could finish her chant. Suddenly, from beyond the swirling dark vortex above, a brilliant flash of light split the sky.

A crackling lightning bolt surged downward, striking the dragon squarely on its back. The sheer force of the lightning coursed through the dragon's body, eliciting an agonized roar that echoed through the forest.

Everyone froze in stunned silence, even the Demon Lord himself. The once-mighty dragon, now writhing in pain, lost its balance mid-flight. Its colossal body plummeted from the sky, crashing into the woods with a deafening impact. Trees splintered and fell, rocks were flung into the air, and a cloud of dust rose as the dragon hit the ground with earth-shaking force.

The shockwave from the crash nearly knocked Sir William and his group off their feet. Still, they managed to steady themselves, their eyes wide with disbelief.

"What just happened?" Sylvia muttered, her voice barely audible amidst the settling chaos.

Sir William tightened his sword grip, breathing heavily as he stared toward the fallen dragon. The Demon Lord's mocking expression had faded, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

As the dust began to settle, a heavy silence enveloped the scene. Everyone stood frozen, their minds struggling to comprehend what had just occurred.

“S-Sir William?” Sylvia’s voice broke the silence, trembling with confusion.

Sir William, his gaze still locked on the direction of the fallen dragon, remained silent. Slowly, he turned his head toward the headmistress, his breath catching at the sight of her expression. Her once troubled visage had shifted—no longer clouded with worry but now glowing with hope.

“My lady,” Sir William called cautiously, his voice laced with curiosity and concern. But she didn’t respond, her attention fixed firmly ahead.

Following her line of sight, Sir William’s eyes widened in disbelief. Standing between them and the Demon Lord was a figure he recognized instantly.

Before Sir William could utter a word, one of the guardsmen behind him stammered, breaking the spell of silence. “It’s... it’s the savior.”

There he stood, tall and unyielding, facing the Demon Lord with unwavering resolve. Aki’s determined gaze bore into Alastair as though every ounce of his being was prepared for the battle ahead. His posture was firm, his stance steady, and in his right hand, he clutched his wand.

The oppressive aura of despair seemed to lift for a moment, replaced by a flicker of hope that rippled through the group.

Aki stood as a beacon of light against the shadow of the Demon Lord.