The battlefield stretched to the horizon, a scar upon Dawn's surface. The earth, churned to blackened mud, steamed from the searing flames of past clashes. Shattered weapons and sundered armor glittered like forsaken stars in the ash-choked twilight. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of blood and ozone, carrying the echoes of distant, anguished cries.

At the center of the chaos stood Julius Johnson Sr., his armor battered and bloodied, yet his stance unbroken. He was more than a man; he was defiance incarnate. His blade, Volundar's Pact, gleamed faintly with draconic runes, pulsing in rhythm with his labored breaths. The weapon was as much a symbol of his pact with Volunder, the last of the Dragon Gods, as it was an extension of his will.

Volunder loomed beside him, a colossal golden dragon whose scales shimmered like molten sunlight. Smoke coiled from his nostrils, and his vast wings folded now, cast a protective shadow over his knight. His amber eyes burned with an ancient sorrow and resolve.

"The gods think mortals fragile," Volunder growled, his voice a resonant tremor. "They forget we bleed the same. Today, we remind them."

Julius nodded, a flicker of a wry grin tugging at his lips despite the tension. "Fragility isn't in my nature, old friend. Let’s see if their divinity can stand to reason."

From the storm-laden sky descended the Celestials, their forms radiant yet ominous. Maria, the Angel of Lust, led them, her beauty an unrelenting weapon. Black silken hair flowed in contrast to her alabaster wings, and her smile was a blade as sharp as any forged steel.

"Julius," Maria purred, her voice a melody that promised paradise, "you could end this now. Cast aside your sword, forsake the dragon, and I will grant you pleasures beyond mortal comprehension."

Julius met her gaze, his dark eyes unyielding. "I fight not for pleasure, Celestial, nor for your hollow promises. I fight because mortals deserve more than your chains."

Her smile faded, replaced by a predatory glare. "Then you will die with your ideals, as fragile as they are."

From her left emerged Tybalt, the Angel of War, his crimson armor glinting like fresh blood. He twirled a spear wreathed in flame, each movement a promise of calculated destruction. Selene, the Mistress of Shadows, followed in her spectral guise, her form flickering like an unfinished nightmare. Her laughter, jagged and mocking, filled the air.

Volunder's tail lashed the ground with a force that sent cracks spidering through the battlefield. "Do not falter, Julius. Their strength is borrowed. Ours is earned."

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The clash began with a roar that shook the heavens. Volunder surged forward, unleashing a torrent of fire that cut a blazing swath through the celestial ranks. Julius was a blur beside him, his blade meeting Tybalt’s spear in a clash that sent sparks showering across the field.

"You fight like a desperate man," Tybalt snarled, pressing his advantage with crushing blows. "Because you know you’ve already lost."

Julius twisted, turning Tybalt’s momentum against him, and struck. "Desperation has its uses. It's what keeps us standing when gods falter."

Above, Maria descended gracefully, her hand extended toward Volunder. Her lips moved in a silent incantation, and the air around her shimmered with an unholy light. Selene darted through the shadows, aiming for the dragon’s vulnerable underbelly.

"Volunder!" Julius shouted, leaping to intercept. His blade caught Selene’s dagger mere inches from the dragon’s heart. "Not today."

Selene hissed, vanishing into a swirl of darkness, only to reappear behind Julius. Her blade found his shoulder, carving a shallow wound, but Julius spun, delivering a retaliatory slash that forced her back.

"Enough!" Maria’s voice boomed, amplified by divine power. The battlefield froze momentarily, the air thick with oppressive magic. She glared at Julius, her composure cracking. "You cannot defy us forever. The gods’ will is absolute."

Volunder snarled, stepping forward to shield Julius. "The gods’ will is brittle. You are neither omniscient nor invincible. And today, we prove it."

With a guttural roar, Volunder unleashed a firestorm that consumed the heavens. Julius advanced beneath the inferno, his blade carving through divine defenses. Tybalt fell to a well-placed strike, his spear clattering to the ground as he vanished in a flash of divine light. Selene shrieked, her form disintegrating under Volunder’s breath.

Maria hovered, her wings tattered, her radiant facade marred by cracks. "You may win this day," she spat, her voice venomous. "But the gods do not forgive. Their vengeance will haunt your bloodline."

Julius stood tall, his sword pointed toward her. "Let them come. We will be ready."

Maria retreated into the storm, her form dissolving into the ether. The battlefield fell silent save for the crackle of lingering flames. Julius lowered his blade, his chest heaving. Beside him, Volunder crouched, his golden scales dimmed but unbroken.

"You fought well," the dragon said, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "But the gods will not rest until they have taken everything."

Julius turned to his companion, his expression resolute. "Then I’ll give them a fight they’ll never forget."

Volunder’s gaze softened, pride and sorrow mingling. "You will carry this burden, Julius Johnson. And your bloodline will carry it long after you."

The storm clouds began to dissipate, revealing a charred yet quiet battlefield. As Julius and Volunder retreated, Maria’s whispered threat lingered—a promise of divine reckoning.

"You will belong to us, knight. One way or another."

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