As the brilliant light from James's final blow against Zarathros faded, the battlefield was enveloped in an intense silence. For a moment, all stood still, soldiers, dragonkin, beasts, and allies alike, frozen in awe and disbelief. The sky, no longer choked by the oppressive storm Zarathros had summoned, began to clear. Shafts of sunlight broke through the clouds, casting their warm glow over the war-torn landscape, illuminating the lingering mist of ashes where the demon dragon had been.
James hovered in the air, his breathing ragged but steady, his chest heaving from the battle. His body ached, his energy reserves nearly depleted, but the feeling of triumph pulsed through his veins like a current. The sight of Zarathros disintegrating into nothing but shadows and embers left him with a bittersweet satisfaction. The dark dragon's reign of terror had ended, and with it, a new dawn was beginning for his kingdom and people.
