The Demon King's main force raged war on the East encampment of the human territory, trying to take over the camp to have access to the human supply routes. I bared orders to the demonic soldiers that charged against the human resistance, my body fully released into the demonic dragon form that was the symbol of the demonic dragon general of the Demon King’s army and the prize of his lineage.

The popping of human gunfire grew louder, as I heard bullets whiz by my wings. Crouching down to avoid the bullets covered in holy water, I made a beeline for the human operator of the large gun, launching up to come down with my talons ripping him in two. His pain-filled cries faded into the resounding of the melodies of war.

It was just another human life that would be another addition to the casualties of this human and demon war. Across the battlefield, my eye caught sight of my second-in-command charging with a hoard of low-level demons to eliminate the group of mages that fired aerial shots into the middle ranks of the demon army. To the right of the field, my third in command should be leading the fleet of the undead to the walls of the encampment. Winning against these humans should be an easy victory. Mentally nodding to myself, I focused my attention on the rear of the human vanguard, eyeing the human bathed in gold armor, who was the leader of the defense vanguard that stood in the way of my army’s siege to the East human encampment.

Launching up into the arrow and magic-filled sky, I skillfully dodged the wave of attacks fired in my direction. The blue-flamed projectiles flew in my direction, as I soared toward the human general, who had yet to set his sights on me. The battle would be ours once I had managed to take out the leader of the vanguard and the Hellion Demon Army would see victory.

The human general tore through a small group of demon soldiers that fought alongside a hellhound, who blared his fangs at the armor-clad human.

“Perhaps, the hellhound will complete the task for me,” I hoped, pausing my advance to take the opportunity to estimate the ratio of the remaining forces.

Human bodies piled under the foot of the demonic forces, who raged death upon the upcoming attackers left from the vanguard. It was a massacre. Soon, my army would see victory and the conquest of the East would show favor towards the Kingdom of Helion. After another win, my father, Demon King, Zelkon Morningstar would be satisfied with the results of the war so far. I turned my attention back toward the human general, almost surprised at the scene that lay before me.

The mighty hell-hound’s mouth gaped open, a pool of black blood that confirmed its identity to those of the Kingdom of Hellion, trickling around its slashed body. The human general panted, his sword now cleanly cutting the head off the last demon soldier left. How could this mere human defeat a hellhound? My fanged jaw morphed into a smirk, which must have looked off-putting in the expression of a dragon.

This human was commendable for taking down a hellhound.

I folded my leathery wings, falling into a nosedive toward the human general, who dodged my plummeting attack. The earth resounded a great boom, as I landed, positioning my large body to face the human general. The bloodied dirt cracked under my impact, as my rudy eyes glared at the general, almost impressed at his battle capability.

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I glanced between the panting general with fire in his eyes and the body of the hellhound that was littered under his boots.

“Not even some of my war chiefs can easily kill a hellhound with a mere sword,” I admitted, emitting black flames from the spikes that extended down my spine, as I smirked under my Hellion mask that covered my head.

The general humored my appreciation but wasted no time lunging toward me. His sword glided inches from where I stood a second ago. I released the black-flamed columns, managing to burn his side.

It was already over.

He groaned, keeping a playful tone to his voice, “I’ve heard rumors about you.”

“You have?” I asked, circling around the dying human, my head hung low to observe his dying efforts.

“Arsylm the Demon King’s precious dragon and son. They say you were born in the lava of Hellion,” The general coughed, blood covering his lips.

“In contrast, I was born in the deepest cavern of Hellion.” I corrected him. This dying human had earned a bit of my respect.

Blood trickled out from the burn wounds. The thing about black flames from the royal family of the Kingdom of Hellion was that they never stopped burning. This meant that the resistance of warriors that were unlucky enough to be scorched by the black embers was futile. They would slowly succumb to their wounds, even with the best medical treatment.

Part of my pride as a soldier fell from the loss of talented fellow warriors, even if he was human.

“Fighting from here on out is meaningless,” I motioned my eyes to his wound from my flames, “Surely, you are aware of the magnitude of your injury. The human forces have lost. Call off your force while you can,” I warned.

The general laughed, clumsily swinging his sword as he slowly died, “I think you’re misunderstanding something.” The warrior chided, the light from his eyes fading.

He made a dying lunge, yet the strength that the warrior once had was gone. Instead, in the weak attempt, pathetic slashes replaced it.

I used my wings to block the weakened sword attacks that wouldn’t deal any damage to me. The general was already on his way to the reaper.

Still, I humored his last outburst as a warrior, “Why would you presume that, dying human?” My eyes followed his body, as he collapsed under my talons. His sword fell inches from my body. Yet, there hadn’t been a need to dodge in the first place.

In his last dying expression, he smirked—his shaking hand pointed under to a parade of humans that marched onto the battlefield from the distance.

“Prepare to lose. ARC has finally arrived.” He announced, his arm dropping, as the last sign of life from his eyes faded amongst the souls of the battlefield.

I stepped away from his body, craning my neck up to the parade of humans that charged into the battle, leaving bodies in their wake as they advanced quicker than I have ever seen.

Unfolding my wings, I heaved up into the chaotic airspace of the battle, dodging newly formed magic missiles that hurled everywhere.

“What is going on?”

How were these humans eliminating my forces so swiftly?

These humans were different. A burning pain struck my left wing, as I found myself plummeting to the ground in a pain-filled roar. The ground crushed under my falling weight, as my body automatically forced itself into a smaller form. My talons shifted into human hands and my body dwindled into one much smaller. Pain consumed my senses, as my wings jerked from the wound out of control.

“Prince Arsylm!” A concerned cry echoed from my right, my vision was too blurred to see or even gauge what occurred around my pained state. I felt clawed hands, and lifted my limp body from the destroyed ground, along with the clashing of metal.

“Who is it?” I weakly managed, the question coming out in pained grunts. What human invention had the ability to injure the Demon King’s Dragon?

Through my blurred vision, I saw the horned figure curse, waving his sword in his hand before leaning down to my figure, “It is I, Second General Adbeel, young prince.”

My wings still jerked around from the pain, my feeling in them no longer present. A searing pain caused me to scream out, followed by apologies.

“It’s light magic. I’ve never seen anything like it. Your wing, young prince.” Adbeel cursed.

A silence followed, existing among the dying cries of what I presumed were my soldiers. What was going on?

Another voice broke in the distance, moving closer. I recognized it to be my third-in-charge, a dark mage, Dagon.

“I will teleport us out of here,” Dagon informed Adbeel, who seemed to grunt in agreement.

I moaned, weakly reaching up my hand to the blurred figures, “The battle…”

“The battle is lost.”

There was no further protest nor time for it. Even through my weakened state, I could feel the increase in mana density around me. Cold sweat riddled my skin, as I struggled to breathe in the vortex of mana. My wounded wing seemed to ache more in the teleportation spell, as my breath lurched.

I could only repeat one word before the world around me went black.

ARC.