The battlefield of Draekoria had descended into chaos.
"They've already begun," Yogan growled, his deep voice amplified by magic. His sharp, golden eyes surveyed the tide of darkness surging toward the city. A horde of abominations so vast they seemed to blot out the horizon approached like an unstoppable wave. Skeletal monstrosities of black and red, some with arcane markings and others bearing grotesque, flesh-like weapons, marched forward. Their wings, skeletal and gnarled like those of demons, stretched wide and menacing. Among them were four Demonoid dragons, towering behemoths whose very roars shook the ground, and nine humanoid figures, their forms elegant yet sinister. These humanoids bore the guise of generals—graceful, with pale, predatory features, dressed in dark, elegant armor that hinted at nobility. Yet their presence exuded a corruption so profound it tainted the very air.
At Draekoria's western battlements, Commander Seraka Valken stood firm, barking orders amidst the rising tide of death. A grizzled veteran with scales of burnished copper and a blind eye milky with age, Seraka commanded the Iron Division, the city's stalwart defenders.
"Hold your ground!" he roared, his voice cutting through the cacophony of battle. A towering beast barreled into the Dragonoid formation, scattering soldiers like leaves in a storm. Without hesitation, Seraka swung his massive halberd, its rune-etched blade cleaving through the creature's neck. Ichor sprayed across the cobblestones as the beast's lifeless body collapsed. "For Shiro and Draekoria!"
Above the chaos, the Sky Division engaged the enemy's aerial units. Led by Captain Elrynn Shal'vaar, a Dragonoid with wings like a tempest, the division moved in disciplined formations. Their spears crackled with lightning as they harried the Legion's airborne beasts. The sky was a battlefield of its own, filled with screeches and roars, as the Dragonoids fought desperately to maintain order amidst chaos.
Beneath the city, the evacuation efforts faltered. Thousands of civilians—Dragonoids, dwarves, beastmen, and allied races—crowded the underground tunnels, their fear palpable. Elder Tarnis, a gray-scaled Dragonoid overseeing the evacuation, paced nervously.
"These caverns won't hold," he muttered to Captain Merys Kael of the Earth Division. Merys, a stoic warrior with a staff glowing with earthen energy, directed his soldiers to fortify the tunnels.
"If the Legion breaks through the gates, they'll overrun us in minutes," Tarnis warned.
"They won't," Merys replied, though the tension in his voice betrayed his doubt. He drove his staff into the ground, summoning walls of stone to seal the entrances. Yet even as the barriers formed, distant roars echoed through the tunnels, followed by the unmistakable sound of stone cracking. The Legion had begun tunneling beneath the city, their monstrous forms carving through rock and soil like locusts.
At the central plaza, Yogan and Zuka landed amidst the Royal Division—the city's elite guard. These warriors, clad in ornate armor glowing with the divine energy of Shiro, were Draekoria's last line of defense.
"Report!" Yogan commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.
Commander Seraka, bloodied but unbowed, approached. "The western gate is failing, my lord," he said grimly. "The Iron Division is holding, but not for much longer. The Sky Division is thinning their numbers, but they're too many. And the tunnels…" He hesitated, glancing at the ground as another distant rumble reverberated beneath their feet.
Zuka stepped forward, his golden eyes blazing. "Then we make our stand here. Evacuating the civilians is no longer an option. Every Dragonoid capable of fighting must join the defense."
Yogan nodded solemnly, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "You lead the charge, Zuka. Show them why you are my heir."
For a moment, Zuka felt the weight of his father's words—a mixture of pride and crushing responsibility. "Yes, Father," he said, his voice resolute.
The battle escalated as the Legion breached the outer walls. The Iron Division, battered and bloodied, fell back to the central plaza, where the Royal Division awaited. Zuka led the charge, his blade igniting with divine light as he cut through the tide of abominations. Yogan fought beside him, unleashing torrents of flame that consumed waves of attackers.
Seraka stood steadfast at Zuka's side, his halberd striking with deadly precision. "We can't hold this forever!" he shouted over the din of battle.
"We don't need forever," Zuka replied, golden wings flaring as he unleashed a burst of energy that disintegrated a dozen enemies. "We just need long enough."
But time was not on their side. Above, Captain Elrynn fell from the sky, her body torn apart by a beast twice her size. The Sky Division's formations crumbled as panic spread. Below, the tunnels collapsed, burying countless civilians alive as the Legion swarmed into the city's heart.
Yogan's heart sank as he surveyed the devastation. His people, his city, his nation—all seemed lost. Fires raged unchecked, and the cries of the dying echoed through the ruins. Dragonoid warriors fought valiantly, but the overwhelming tide of darkness sapped their resolve. Death felt inevitable, a grim certainty that settled over the battlefield like a shroud.
Yogan ascended into the sky, his wings spread wide and blazing with light. His voice, imbued with commanding power, boomed across the city, reaching every ear.
"Everything you thought had meaning. Every hope, dream, or moment of happiness. None of it matters as you lie bleeding out on the battlefield. None of it changes what spewing lava does to our bodies. We all die. Does that mean our lives are meaningless? Does that mean that there was no point in being born?
Would you say that of our slain comrades? What about their lives? Were they meaningless?"
His voice softened for a moment, though it carried the weight of profound sorrow. "They were not. Their memory serves as an example to us all—the greatest, the anguished fathers and mothers, the stalwart warriors. Their lives have meaning because we, the living, refuse to forget them.
And as we ride to certain death, we trust our successors to do the same for us. Because we have fought with honor and pride, we shall die as warriors, protecting the haven of our Lord Shiro. My soldiers do not buckle or yield when faced with the cruelty of this world. My soldiers stand strong. My soldiers persevere. My soldiers roar and fight even at the gates of hell!"
Yogan's words ignited a fire in the hearts of his warriors. The Royal Division surged forward, their weapons gleaming with renewed purpose. The Iron Division, though battered, reformed their ranks, their roars echoing Yogan's rallying cry. Even the Sky Division, scattered and demoralized, regrouped, their remaining numbers diving back into the fray with fierce determination.
Zuka fought like a beacon of light amidst the darkness, his every strike a testament to his father's words. The Legion pressed harder, but the defenders' newfound resolve held them at bay. Seraka, blood streaming from countless wounds, roared as he brought his halberd down on another beast.
"For Draekoria!"
The tide began to turn, but the cost was unimaginable. Bodies littered the streets, and the city's once-pristine towers lay in ruins. The Demonoid dragons descended, their massive forms crashing into the defenders' ranks. Yogan met one head-on, his flames enveloping the beast as they clashed in midair. The other three spread chaos, their roars shaking the city to its foundations.
The nine humanoid generals advanced, their movements elegant yet deadly. Zuka faced two of them, their dark blades clashing against his radiant sword. Their strikes were calculated, testing his strength with each blow. Despite his skill, Zuka felt the strain, their combined might pushing him to his limits.
Above, Yogan's battle with the Demonoid dragon raged. The beast's claws raked across his armor, leaving deep gashes, but Yogan's resolve did not falter. With a deafening roar, he drove his blade into the dragon's chest, unleashing a torrent of fire that consumed it from within. The beast let out one final, ear-splitting cry before collapsing, its lifeless body crashing into the city below.
The defenders' valiant efforts, however, could not halt the inevitable. The city fell. Legion and Felborn overran the once-glorious streets of Draekoria. The iron will of the Dragonoid warriors was no match for the tide of corruption that swallowed everything in its path. Yogan's fiery wings dimmed as he descended amidst the ruin, his heart heavy with failure.