They were flying towards their mountains. After more than six years of continuous battles, the situation had stabilized enough to be able to allow a respite, to be able to see again their relatives, children, partners, parents or friends.

Their scales gleamed in the sunlight. It gave them a majestic appearance that hid the scars of those years of cruel battles, both physical and psychic.

They weren’t all there. They had lost many companions, either those who had come with them or those who had met there.

At least, they had lived to tell the tale. In addition, they could be proud of having managed to stop that dark invasion. Thus, they had prevented it from growing stronger, from ending up threatening more and more peoples, including their kin.

They were draconians, a people whose ancestors were dragons who mixed with mortal beings. So, they had inherited part of the dragon’s blood, and part of their other ancestors’.

In many of this large group, that blood was especially dominant. For this reason, they were the warriors of their people, those who faced their enemy head to head, with their scales as armor and their claws as weapons. Although, truth be told, most preferred spears, so claws were left as a last resort.

Others were closer to magic, and fire was the most common, although there were also healers among them. The scales and physique of those mages were weaker, but they were no less important for that.

In the past, there had been civil wars by those who claimed the supremacy of a part of their race. However, they had long ago learned the absurdity of those ideas that had led them to a senseless spiral of violence. There were even brothers with different characteristics. Actually, it couldn’t be guaranteed what the children would be like, even if their parents had the same affinity.

Therefore, the history of those senseless wars was still present. It was necessary to know the mistakes of the past so as not to repeat them. It was necessary to understand that everyone was necessary, that everyone had their role, that being better at something did not mean being better at everything

“Drako, look there!” one of the scouts warned to who was in front.

Drako wasn’t his name but his title, that of the leader of that small army of several hundred warriors, whose levels were above 80. Drako himself had reached 100.

He frowned. He was looking forward to reaching his home and hugging his daughter again. However, he couldn’t ignore that call for help, a top-level one. It was unheard of for someone in this area to be in possession of the signal, for something there to be worthy of their attention, but there it was.

Without a word, he veered in that direction and sped up. Whatever it was, it was important, so they had to get there as soon as possible.

The shield holders were once again squeezing their power for the last time, while feeling their meager mana reserves dwindle worryingly.

Exhausted, many of the purple guardians recovered as best they could, by sitting or lying down. The warriors who had fought at the front were cured by the healers, to prepare them for one last battle.

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With difficulty, the next to act rose up. The brief moment of rest was over, the defenses were giving way.

“The last one,” Fily announced in frustration a couple of Fireballs later.

Dozens more enemies erupted, she collapsed in exhaustion, and was gently picked up by Cohngyor. Another took her place. Soon, he squeezed out his last mana reserves as well. They had regained a bit of hope, but it was running out along with the mana.

The warriors went to the front, ready for one last effort, as an Arrows Rain fell outside, and drained the last bits of Goldmi’s energy. She would need to rely on her sister to run away, but just the thought of it caused her intense pain. It would mean that they had failed, that they hadn’t been able to help them, that those purple beings had died.

Maldoa was no better. She was frustrated at not being able to do more, and almost out of mana.

It was then when there was a strong impact in the middle of that army of losts. Then another. Then another one. It seemed as if small meteorites were falling. Even small craters had formed.

But it wasn’t a huge stone or a spell what had impacted there, what had created the shock wave that had finished and pushed dozens of corrupted beings. They were figures covered in scales with their knees bent to cushion their landing. Their arms were outstretched and brandishing spears. Their hair and long tails were being shaken by the waves of the impact, and cloud of dust was floating around them.

They straightened with a defiant smile, and looked at the losts which were ignoring them. Everyone knew very well what that attitude meant, that those beings had orders, and there was a general nearby.

They wasted no time and leaped forward. They were determined to start a massacre. The group had spent the last few years fighting much more powerful versions of these beings, so this was even comforting. They could vent at ease.

From the sky, Balls and Bursts of Fire were scorching the dead forest, and engulfing hundreds of corrupted beings in the flames. There were other spells too, but they were in the minority.

Goldmi looked around completely stunned. She knew those beings from the game, but their incoming and their power had taken her by surprise. Maldoa, on the other hand, breathed with relief.

“I’ve never been so happy to see these brutes,” she murmured.

The lynx had returned to her sister, and her eyes, like those of the other two, were fixed on one of those scale-covered beings. He had landed near, and was moving toward them.

“Maldoa… I didn’t expect to meet you here. Was it you who launched the signal? What’s the situation?” he greeted.

The drelf had no time to explain anything but the essentials. They couldn’t waste a minute.

“There. Those inside must be saved. It’s essential. It’s the goal of those beasts. We believe that all the generals have been eliminated, but the orders remain,” she pointed towards the cave. “I’m glad you’re here, Codrekor.”

The Drako didn’t like being ordered around, but he also understood that the situation must be critical. He would ask her for explanations later, and they had better be good ones. His family was waiting for him. He didn’t even allow himself to ask how they knew there was more than one general, and how they had been eliminated. There would be time.

He signaled, and the two closest to it jumped to the entrance of the cave, blocked it and took down the losts nearby. A quick look inside made their eyes widen, but they lost no more than an instant. They were veterans who weren’t distracted by even the most incredible scene, at least not while they had a mission to accomplish.

Codrekor himself advanced in the direction of the cave without being stopped by his enemies. He even split a huge snake in two with his hands. He wanted to know what was going on there.

As he passed, the corrupted beings of 60 levels less were simply exterminated. He might not be able to easily regain energy in that place, but he had more than enough to advance unopposed.

When he managed to get close enough and take a look at the entrance, he received the biggest surprise in years.

“Guardians of the North…” he murmured. “That’s a very good explanation…”