The dragon stirred again, its massive bulk heaving as it struggled against the debris that trapped it in the cave. Its eyes, glowing like molten coals, seethed with fury. A low growl rumbled from its throat, reverberating through the ground and shaking the rocks beneath Ellie’s feet.
“Gods help us,” someone muttered behind her.
Ellie’s heart raced as she watched the adventurers spread out, moving cautiously in a wide arc around the cave’s entrance. All eyes flicked toward her, waiting for her next move. They trusted her—somehow they still trusted that she had a plan. Of course, she didn’t.
She stood frozen, her mind whirling. What was she supposed to do? The dragon was too close, too powerful, too angry. Her instincts screamed at her to run, but there was nowhere to go. The mountains hemmed them in, the dragon barred the only exit.
Haldor’s voice cut through the rising panic. “Ellie!” He caught her eye from across the rocky field, his face grim. “Whatever you’re going to do,” he growled, “do it now.”
“Do it now?” she whispered, her throat tightening. What did he think she could do? Her every step so far had been nothing but luck, mishaps, and desperate guesses.
The dragon snarled again, its enormous tail whipping through the air, sending clouds of dust and rock spiraling up. The adventurers around her tightened their grip on their weapons, edging closer to the inevitable clash. She could see their faces—fear and hope mingled together, every single one of them trusting her with their lives.
“I don’t have a plan,” she whispered under her breath. “I don’t even know how I got here.”
As if in answer, the dragon reared up, massive wings unfurling. The wind howled as the dragon let out a piercing roar that split the sky.
Ellie stumbled backward, her boot catching on something half-buried in the rubble. She pitched forward, arms flailing, just as her foot knocked against the hilt of a sword. It tumbled through the air, spinning end over end.
She barely had time to register what was happening before the sword lodged itself between two of the dragon’s scales, right at the base of its neck.
There was a sickening thunk.
The dragon’s roar turned into a scream of pain, its body convulsing as the sword pierced deep into its flesh. For a split second, everything stopped—the adventurers, the rocks, even the wind seemed to freeze in place.
The dragon swayed, its eyes wide in agony, and then it collapsed. The earth trembled beneath Ellie’s feet as the beast’s massive form crumpled to the ground. Dust and debris shot into the air, filling the sky with a thick haze.
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Ellie stared in disbelief. It was over. The dragon—the great terror of the Dreadmoor Pass—was dead.
And she hadn’t meant to do any of it.
She blinked, her mind struggling to catch up with what just happened. The sword... it hadn’t been a plan. It had been an accident, a stumble. But no one else knew that.
From across the battlefield, Haldor let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
The adventurers stared in stunned silence, weapons still raised, as if waiting for the dragon to rise again. But it didn’t. It lay there, motionless, the light in its eyes slowly fading to nothing.
“She... she killed it,” one of the younger adventurers whispered, his voice trembling with awe. “With a single strike.”
“She threw the sword,” another chimed in, louder now, excitement breaking through the shock. “Right into its weak spot! She knew exactly where to hit!”
Ellie opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. She hadn’t done it. It was just dumb luck. But the growing chorus of admiration drowned out any attempt to explain.
“Incredible!” someone shouted. “I’ve never seen anything like it!”
The adventurers rushed toward her, their faces beaming with excitement and disbelief. They clapped her on the back, their voices ringing with praise.
“One strike! That’s all it took!”
“A true prodigy!”
“A living legend!”
Ellie’s heart pounded in her chest, the noise of their cheers deafening. She felt disconnected, as if she were floating above the scene, watching it unfold from some distant place. Her legs wobbled beneath her, and her hands shook uncontrollably. She had to say something, had to tell them the truth.
“I didn’t—”
But they weren’t listening. The cheers only grew louder. A blur of faces and noise overwhelmed her senses. Haldor approached, his gray-streaked beard twitching as he chuckled, shaking his head slowly.
“You’ve outdone yourself, lass,” he said, his voice laced with amusement and something like admiration. “You had us all fooled.”
Ellie forced a hollow smile, barely managing to stand as the weight of their expectations bore down on her. She hadn’t done anything. It was all a lie, an accident. But they saw only the dead dragon and the girl who had slain it.
“We’ll be talking about this for centuries.” One of the adventurers wiped dust from his face. “A single strike against a dragon—that’s unheard of.”
“A legend,” another murmured, awe dripping from every syllable.
Ellie wanted to laugh, but all that came out was a bitter breath. A legend. The word echoed in her head, twisted and hollow. A legend built on lies, on luck, and on a series of mistakes.
Her eyes drifted to the dragon’s body, its massive form still against the earth. For a moment, she felt a pang of pity for the creature. It had been ancient, powerful, a force of nature. Now it was just... dead.
“Ellie! Ellie!” The adventurers chanted her name, their voices full of adoration and triumph. Swords raised in salute, their faces glowing with pride.
Ellie swallowed hard. She hadn’t meant to do any of this. She wasn’t the hero they thought she was. And yet here she was, standing among them, her name etched into their minds, celebrated for a victory she hadn’t earned.
“I’m not who you think I am,” she whispered, her voice lost in the roar of their praise.
But it didn’t matter now. The legend had already been written. And Ellie could only hope that her luck, improbable as it was, would hold out just a little longer.