Ivel stood, the golden aura around Zelfur still pulsing with barely contained power. He glanced down. Kaelion and Lirael lay unconscious amidst the wreckage, their bodies still and lifeless-looking. A wave of anxiety washed over him, momentarily eclipsing the thrill of his newfound strength. He sprinted towards them, his heart pounding in his chest. Kneeling beside them, he checked their pulses, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as he confirmed they were still alive, albeit barely
With a renewed sense of purpose, he began to channel his enhanced mana, a golden light emanating from his hands as he laid them upon their chests. He poured his revitalizing energy into them, healing their wounds, mending their broken bodies with a speed that bordered on miraculous. The golden light pulsed, bathing them in warmth, and within minutes, both Kaelion and Lirael stirred, coughing weakly as they regained consciousness
As he finished healing them, a figure emerged from the swirling dust and smoke of the battlefield. Faelar, his armor scorched and battered, rushed towards Ivel, his eyes wide with concern
"Ivel! Are you alright?" he exclaimed, his voice strained. "What happened here? This… this is a massacre!"
Ivel straightened, his golden eyes still shimmering. "I'm fine," he replied, his voice surprisingly calm despite the adrenaline still coursing through him. "We can talk later. I need to deal with the dragon."
"You can't handle it alone!" Faelar protested, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword
"I can," Ivel insisted, his gaze fixed on the slowly rising form of the ancient dragon. Its scales were charred and blackened in places, but it was clearly still alive, and far from defeated
Faelar noticed Ivel's golden eyes, the radiant aura surrounding him, and the subtle, almost imperceptible energy crackling around his very being. He saw the potential, the raw power that pulsed from the young man before him. It was a terrifying and exhilarating sight. A sigh escaped his lips. "Return alive," he murmured, more to himself than to Ivel
He quickly ran to Kaelion and Lirael, carefully hoisting them onto his shoulders, before turning back to Ivel. "Be careful," he said, his voice firm despite the worry etched on his face. Then, with a determined set to his jaw, he retreated back towards the relative safety of the remaining soldiers
Ivel turned and retrieved Zelfur, feeling the familiar weight of the sword, the newfound power humming within it. The dragon, having recovered from its initial injuries, reared its massive head, smoke curling from its nostrils. It began to gather energy for a devastating blast of dragon breath
But Ivel was ready. With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a fifth-tier spell, "Chains of Heaven." Golden chains, shimmering with celestial energy, erupted from the sky, binding the dragon's limbs, restricting its movements. It roared in frustration, its struggles causing the very ground to tremble
He followed up with another spell, conjuring hundreds of dark storm clouds above the dragon. Lightning crackled and flashed, the air thick with the scent of ozone as he unleashed a barrage of devastating lightning strikes upon the chained beast
The dragon, however, was surprisingly resilient. With a final, earth-shattering roar, it snapped free from the celestial chains. It lunged towards Ivel, spewing a torrent of fire. But unlike before, Ivel was prepared. He unleashed a beam of pure golden light, a counter-blast of energy that met the dragon's fiery breath head-on. The clash created a blinding flash and a deafening roar; a standoff between the power of the dragon and the newfound power residing within Ivel
But Ivel's golden light was stronger. It pushed back the flames, overcoming the dragon's fire. The golden light broke through, hitting the dragon directly. Seizing the opportunity, Ivel leaped forward, bringing Zelfur down in a swift, precise strike into the dragon's leg. A massive wound opened, sending a torrent of blood spurting onto the ground
The dragon, wailing in agony and pain, gathered its remaining strength for a final, desperate attack. It was a self-destructing move, one that would obliterate the entire empire. At the same time, Ivel prepared his most powerful technique, the Aerial Style, a devastating swordsmanship style taught to him by the late Swordmaster Caelum
He poured every ounce of his remaining strength into Zelfur. The ground trembled beneath his feet, the very air vibrating with the intensity of his power. The entire kingdom felt the tremor. The kingdom shook violently. Ivel leaped, a blur of motion, his body a conduit of pure, untamed energy. Zelfur sang as it sliced through the air, a golden arc of destruction. The dragon unleashed its final, earth-shattering breath, a wave of pure energy that threatened to consume everything. But Ivel, with a speed that defied comprehension, cut through the blast. His sword, imbued with the Aerial Style, moved with impossible speed and precision, slicing through the dragon's final attack as if it were nothing more than air
With a final, earth-shattering clang, Zelfur met its mark. The blade pierced the dragon's heart, ending its reign of terror, silencing its roars forever. The dragon's immense body collapsed, its scales scattering like fallen leaves. The cataclysmic energy dissipated, leaving behind only silence and the lingering scent of burnt earth
Ivel landed, his body trembling with exhaustion, the golden light around him fading. He felt a sharp pain ripping through his body; mana overload. He stumbled, his vision blurring as he reached for Zelfur. He had done it. He had slain the ancient dragon. He collapsed, unconscious, the victory a bittersweet taste on his tongue
He had succeeded. He cut open the dragon's stomach, revealing a single, obsidian-black egg pulsating with dark energy. Carefully, he placed it in a pouch, knowing this ominous artifact held its own untold dangers
The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. King Cedric and his men arrived, accompanied by Lance Gareth and hundreds of elite knights. The cheers of the surviving soldiers were a muted background noise to the sharp pain that wracked Ivel's body. The king and his entourage approached cautiously, their faces a mixture of awe and relief
But the relief would be short-lived. Ivel's victory had come at a steep price. The mana overload had taken its toll. What awaited him was not celebration, but the agonizing recovery from a power beyond his control. He had saved the kingdom, but in doing so, had pushed himself to the brink of collapse. The weight of his actions, the exhaustion in his body, and the ominous egg in his pouch... all pointed to a future of suffering and pain. The cheers of the victorious faded as the full weight of his actions settled upon him, a silent promise of the trials still to come.