The moment we entered the castle, it was a bloody battlefield. Hern’s Silverplates were already locked in combat, swords clanging, magic lighting up the walls like a party gone wrong. And they'd met their match. I could tell from one glance that these Vannder mercenaries were not to be taken lightly. Just by the way they moved, precise and brutal.

Our men charged in, already looking for their first opponent to slaughter. The archers kept raining arrows from above, hitting friend and foe alike. Though ours were better armored. Plate could beat mail any day. Right?

Rheka was by my side, her hands already glowing as she started casting. My whole body began to tingle. I could feel the charge in the air - the magic of the battle, mixing with the sound of metal. And there, right in the thick of it, was Korrik. Even though his eyes were blind, the way he stood, it was like he could see everything. Flames coiled around his body in a ring, fire magic just waiting to be unleashed.

“There’s that man.” Rheka whispered, pointing him out, though there was no mistaking him. His presence stood out, the fire swirling around him in waves, almost too perfectly controlled for someone who couldn’t see.

“Stay close.” I muttered, not trusting my own voice as we edged forward. "Let the others handle this." My wings fluttered nervously. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to this. Magic was flying all over, and I had a bad feeling about what was coming next.

If only I could actually do something here. I'm shitting myself but i can't just do nothing! I don't get it. I have this damn collar and all I can do is throw a damn puff of smoke.

And then, just like that, Korrik turned his head. Even though he couldn’t see, it was like he sensed us.

“You!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the noise of battle. “The dragon and his little friend! Let’s see how long you last!"

Before we could react, a blast of fire shot from his hand, crashing into the ground near us. It was ten times the size of any others I'd seen so far. Rheka leaped back, barely missing the flames. My wings flared as I scrambled to pull myself together, the heat licking away at my scales.

“He’s targeting us!” I hissed, still feeling the weight of Korrik’s magic in the ground beneath me. It was much stronger than I'd expected.

Why the hell is he targeting us!?

“Yeah, no kidding!” Rheka snapped, already firing off her own two Embers, trying to push him back. There was little to no time that went into casting them. Fire shot from both her hands, but Korrik just waved them away, like swatting at flies.

He didn’t even flinch. “You think your children's magic will stop me?” Another massive firebolt shot out, and this time, it was aimed straight for Rheka. I shoved her aside just as the blast hit the wall behind us, sending a shower of sparks into the air. The only thing we had going for us was the distance. But then.

How the hell could this blind guy even aim at us?!

My heart pounded in my chest, wings trembling as I pushed Rheka behind a pile of rubble. “We need to be careful.This guy is serious business.”

But she wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glowing with mana, her hands already sparking with fire as she fired off another bolt. It took here only mere seconds to cast it. “We can take him!”

I wasn’t so sure.

Korrik’s fire raged again, this time with more force, and I could feel the strain as I almost took the hit. “Don’t overdo it!” I shouted, but Rheka was already too deep into the fight. She was flinging fire left and right, her face set with determination. But there was something wrong. Each spell was taking more out of her. Out of us.

I could feel it too. My wings were heavy, my breath coming in short gasps. Korrik’s fire wasn’t letting up, and every time we fought back - if you could even call it that - he just seemed stronger. As if our fire was just fueling his own. Yet this was all we could really do. Splash, despite being a water spell didn't have the punch to do anything to this guy. Luminance seemed useless, he was bloody blind. And detect, well, I'll let you figure that one out yourself.

Rheka threw another Ember, but this time, her knees wobbled. I could see blood run from her nose. “Rheka!” I called out, but she didn’t stop. The magic was pouring out of her, faster and faster, and I knew what was coming.

The Drought. Too much magic, too fast.

Oh old man save us. Vrintas, where the hell are you when we need you!?

I lunged for her just as she crumpled, dragging her behind a broken stone pillar. “You... pushed it too far.” I panted, the weight of the Drought already pulling me down too. My vision blurred, and every muscle felt like lead.

Korrik’s voice echoed, cold and steady. “You can’t run from this. You'll run dry before me.” Then I heard laughter.

We had to get out of here, but the mana... it was draining both of us, and fast. The battle around us raged on, but all I could focus on was keeping us alive.

Korrik’s attacks weren't slowing down. Firebolts kept crashing into the walls, the heat growing more intense with every blast. Though, he didn't hit us directly. I don't know if he was just toying with us or if he'd just remembered that he's supposed to be blind. But somehow, we weren't dead yet.

I glanced down at my own claws, feeling the rush of panic. The only thing keeping me from fainting was probably the adrenaline. I had to do something. Anything.

My breath came in shallow gasps as I focused, trying to conjure a firebolt like Rheka’s. One Ember. Just one. We needed a break - something to push Korrik back.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I pushed harder, willing the fire to come.

But it didn’t.

Instead, thick, dark smoke started to curl from my claws, swirling in the air like a coiling shadow.

I blinked, confused.

No, not this again! Where is the damn fire?

If there was ever a moment for me to pull something out of my ass, it was now.

Give me something. Anything!

Korrik’s fire smashed into the pillar before us. It wouldn't hold it much longer.

“Come on, come on...” I mumbled, trying again. The smoke grew thicker, darker, but it wasn’t fire. It was... something else. I could feel it now - a coldness beneath the smoke, something heavy and unfamiliar.

“Argius...” Rheka’s voice broke through my concentration as she grabbed onto me, her face pale. “What... are you doing?”

“I... I don’t know.” I admitted, the smoke still pouring out of my claws. “This isn’t bloody fire?!”

The smoke spread, filling the space around us. It wasn’t choking, but it was thick, maybe dense enough to hide us from Korrik’s view. He hesitated, his head tilting slightly as if trying to sense where we were.

For a moment, there was silence. Even Korrik’s relentless attacks seemed to pause as the cloud of darkness enveloped the area. I hadn’t meant to cast it, but... maybe this could work.

“Stay low.” I whispered to Rheka, pulling her down behind the pillar. The smoke extended out further, forming a shadowy wall between us and Korrik.

Korrik’s voice cut through the air. “What is this? Smoke won’t save you.”

But it wasn’t just smoke anymore. It was thicker than that, almost... alive. I didn’t know how I was doing it or how it hid us from a blind person, but I wasn’t going to question it now. If it kept us hidden, kept Korrik off our backs, I’d take it.

“Let's get the hell out of here.” I whispered to Rheka. She nodded, her legs trembling.

I could feel the Drought creeping into my limbs, making me sluggish. I felt like vomitting. But the smoke - no, the darkness - was still there, swirling around us like a shield. Korrik somehow wasn't able to pinpoint us through it. At least, not for now.

“Follow me.” I murmured, pushing through the cloud, hoping it would last long enough for us to get clear of Korrik’s line of fire.

The smoke still circulated around us, but I could see the Silverplates pushing back the Vannder mercenaries. Hern’s men had the upper hand now, driving the mercs toward the far end of the courtyard. Swords clanged, and the occasional burst of magic lit the place up like some kind of twisted festival.

And then there was Hern, slicing through the battlefield like it was nothing. His golden-silver rapier flashed, and he moved so fast, it was like he wasn’t even trying. He cut down anyone who got in his way, smooth as butter.

Korrik, of course, didn’t like that one bit.

“Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour!” Korrik spat, fire swirling around him like he was trying to show off. His blind eyes didn’t seem to stop him from aiming his anger at Hern. “Come to play hero?”

Hern, as calm as ever, just kept walking toward him. “Heroism? No, I’m here to show you what competence looks like.” he said, twirling his rapier with one hand like he had all the time in the world.

Korrik’s face twisted, his flames flaring higher. “Big talk from a man with no magic.”

Hern shrugged, his voice cool as ice. “The arcane is just an excuse for people who are slow.” In a flash, he lunged, his sword cutting through the air like lightning. Korrik barely had time to block with a wall of fire.

But Hern was already moving again, darting to the side. His rapier flashed, aiming for Korrik’s blind spot. Korrik’s flames roared higher, but Hern was simply too fast. It was madness.

“You really think your fire’s going to save you?” Hern taunted, barely out of breath. “How predictable. Perhaps you should stick to fighting children.”

Korrik snarled, sending another wave of fire toward Hern. “You’ll burn for that, you arrogant fool!”

But Hern danced through it like the flames were nothing. “Ah, anger. Always the first sign of losing control.” He smirked, twirling his rapier again.

Korrik’s face twisted in rage. “You think this is about pride?” he spat, sending another torrent of flames toward Hern. But his strikes were starting to get wild, less focused.

Hern sidestepped again, slicing through the fire like it was air. “I think it’s about the fact that you’re losing.” he said, matter-of-factly.

The fight was on, and even though Korrik kept throwing fire like it was going out of style, Hern was too fast. The Silverplates had the mercenaries on the run, and it was only a matter of time before Korrik would realize he couldn’t keep up.

Rheka and I stayed low, watching as Hern slowly but surely started wearing Korrik down. The fire was still dangerous, but the guy was getting sloppy. His casting was all over the place, while Hern kept up his calm, precise attacks, not even breaking a sweat.

But Korrik wasn’t done yet. The flames around him surged higher, yet this time, there was something different. The air itself seemed to hum, and even from a distance, I could feel the heat cranking up.

“I’m done playing with you.” Korrik growled, his arms glowing brighter than before. The flames shifted, twisting into strange shapes, like serpents coiling in the air.

Hern paused for just a second. “Finally taking this seriously, are we?”

Korrik let out a shout, and the fire exploded outward - not just in a straight line, but in a spiral, twisting and turning like a flaming cyclone. It wasn’t just fire anymore; it was like he’d taken control of the air itself, spinning the flames into a massive vortex, pulling everything toward it. Debris, dust, and even stray weapons started getting sucked into the spiral of heat and chaos.

I could feel the pull, too. My claws scraped against the ground as I tried to keep from being dragged into the cyclone. “What the hell is that?!” I shouted, more to myself than anyone else.

Hern, of course, just stood his ground, eyes cold as ever. “Impressive.” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the vortex. “But still too slow.”

In a blink, Hern shot forward, faster than I could track. His rapier glinted in the fiery light as he darted through the cyclone, moving as if he was the wind itself. Korrik tried to pull more power into the vortex, but Hern was already there, his blade slicing through the spinning flames like they weren’t even there.

One clean strike. That’s all it took.

Korrik staggered, the flames flickering out as his control snapped. “No!” he shouted. I could hear the anger and disbelief in his voice. He backed away, clutching his side where Hern had landed the blow. His face twisted in fury, but I could see the realization in his eyes - he was beaten.

“You’ve lost, Korrik,” Hern said, his voice calm as ever. “Now run along before you get yourself killed. Go run to your brothers.”

For a second, Korrik looked like he was going to lash out again, but then he stumbled back, the fire around him dimming. “This isn’t over!” he shouted, his voice trembling with rage. And just like that, he turned and fled, disappearing into the chaos of the battlefield.

I didn’t even have time to react. It hit me all at once, like a wave crashing over me.

The Drought... is not a kind stranger. I heard the old man's voice.

My legs gave out, and before I knew it, I was on the ground. Rheka had already collapsed, her breathing shallow, her face pale.

“Hern...” I tried to call out, but my voice barely made a sound. The world around me was spinning, everything going dark.

When I came to, we were being carted back toward the camp. I could hear the sound of battle still raging behind us, but it was distant, muffled. The Silverplates had regrouped, pushing back the reinforcements that had broken through the palisades. From what I could make out, they were slowly driving them off for good. Victory... was ours.

Hern rode beside us, his rapier sheathed, his expression calm as always. He didn’t say a word, just gave me a nod, like everything was under control.

I glanced over at Rheka, who was still out cold but breathing steadily. “We did it.” I whispered. Not like anyone could hear me. The chaos of the fight was fading behind us. Through the air...

...rang the sweet sound of victory.