The sound of distant battle echoed through the inn as Solis, Vaidya, and Ada ascended the creaking wooden stairs. Outside, the dragon's guttural roars shook the air, accompanied by the faint shimmer of magic and clanging steel. Commander Cassandra and Captain Seraphine were leading the charge with their respective knights, their ferocity keeping the monstrous beast at bay.
The battlefield was chaos incarnate. The dragon, a massive, crimson-scaled beast, loomed over the knights like a living nightmare. Its eyes burned with malice, and its fiery breath turned the earth into molten slag. The combined forces of the Postknights, Air Knights, and Border Knights moved in coordinated waves, though the ferocity of the creature threatened to unravel their ranks.
Seraphine leapt into the fray, her dual swords slick with the dragon's black blood. She hacked at the beast's tendons, her strikes precise but fueled by sheer grit. The dragon retaliated, its massive tail swinging in a deadly arc.
"Focus on the wings!" Commander Elise shouted from the rear, her voice cutting through the din. She directed the Air Knights, who circled above on their griffons, loosing harpoons tipped with enchanted steel. The harpoons pierced the dragon's leathery wings, pinning them to the ground. The beast roared, thrashing wildly, and one of its claws raked through a line of Border Knights, leaving a trail of severed limbs and shredded torsos. Blood soaked the ground, mingling with the dragon's steaming ichor.
"Hold the line!" Commander Ardin bellowed, his lance glowing with radiant energy. He charged forward, plunging the weapon into the dragon's exposed underbelly. The beast shrieked, its body convulsing as the lance tore through muscle and bone.
The Postknights pressed the advantage. Cassandra, her shield shattered, grabbed a fallen spear and drove it into one of the dragon's eyes, the orb bursting in a spray of viscous fluid, then she pulls out and jumps aside. Seraphine climbed onto the creature's back, her one of the dual swords hacking at its spine with relentless fury. Ardin directed a squad of Border Knights to flank the dragon, their heavy blades severing its tail in a grisly explosion of blood and tissue.
The dragon let out a deafening roar, its death throes shaking the earth. Finally, Cassandra delivered the killing blow, driving the spear through the beast's heart. The dragon's body collapsed with a thunderous crash, its blood pooling around the knights' feet like a crimson tide. The battlefield fell silent, save for the ragged breaths of the survivors.
As the knights caught their breath, the sound of hooves broke the quiet. Commander Orsic arrived at the head of the KPP, his golden armor gleaming despite the grime of battle. Orsic, a tall man with a graying beard and a permanent sneer, surveyed the scene with disdain.
"Quite the spectacle," he drawled, dismounting his horse. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. When you send couriers and farmers to do a knight's job, this is the result."
Cassandra turned to face him, her exhaustion barely concealed. "We fought as one, Commander Orsic. The dragon is dead. That's what matters."
Orsic scoffed, stepping over the mangled body of a fallen knight. "Yes, and look at the cost. Sloppy tactics, unnecessary casualties. If the KPP had arrived earlier, this could have been handled with precision."
"The KPP wasn't here," Cassnadra said coldly, her voice low and dangerous. "We were. And we won."
Orsic's lip curled. "If this is what passes for victory under your command, Cassandra, then it's no wonder the Postknights are little more than glorified errand boys."
Every Postknights stood a short distance away, watching the exchange. Seraphine's fists clenched, but one of her warmates placed a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.
"Let it go," he murmured. "Commander Cassandra's got this."
Orsic's knights began moving among the wounded, though their expressions made it clear they held the Postknights in no higher regard than their commander did. Cassandra ignored them, turning back to his own.
"Well done," he said, his voice carrying over the battlefield. "You fought with courage and unity. Rest now. You've earned it."
The Postknights and their allies began to gather the wounded and fallen, their spirits heavy but unbroken. The dragon was dead, but its lifeless form was a grim reminder of the cost of their victory. Orsic, meanwhile, continued to sneer, his disdain evident even as he returned to his mount.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the battlefield in shades of crimson and gold, the knights prepared for what lay ahead. For though the dragon was slain, the scars it left would linger—and the tensions between allies would take far longer to heal.
Meanwhile in Mailie
Inside the inn, it was eerily quiet. The trio stopped in front of Tedric's room, the faint light of a lantern flickering beneath the door. Solis hesitated, glancing at the others.
"We have to tell him," Ada said firmly, gripping the hilt of her wooden sword.
Vaidya nodded, his satchel slung over one shoulder. "He's not going to like it, but Pearl is more important than his mood."
Solis took a deep breath and knocked.
"Enter," came Tedric's voice, gruff and tired.
The three stepped in to find Tedric sitting at a small table, polishing his lance. His armor lay neatly arranged on a chair nearby, and his expression was joyfull as usual. He looked up, his sharp eyes glinted.
"You're supposed to be resting," Tedric said, setting the lance aside. "The curfew will remain for some moment now. You know national emergency."
Solis straightened. "Sir, this isn't about the curfew. It's about Pearl."
Tedric's gaze darkened, and he leaned forward. "What about her?"
"She's missing," Vaidya said bluntly, pulling a map from his satchel and spreading it on the table. "We overheard some knights talking downstairs. Pearl hasn't been seen whole day after the curfew. She was last seen in front of Martha's clinic in the marketplace."
Tedric's jaw tightened, but he said nothing, waiting for them to continue.
"We don't know the details," Ada added, "but they said something about a medical supply delivery at the Forked Valley. She might be there."
Tedric stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He paced the room, his fists clenched. "What are you talking about? Oh shit now I remember there was a delivery request from Forked valley. Oh no! That place is near Katalan Valley. She is in danger now."
Tedric stopped pacing and turned to them, his expression unreadable. "Pearl is my responsibility, not yours. You three will stay here and wait for further orders. I'll deal with this."
"No," Ada said firmly, surprising even everyone with her confidence. "Pearl is one of us. If something's happened to her, we're going with you."
Tedric's eyes flashed with irritation. "You don't get to decide that, Postknight."
Vaidya stepped forward, his voice calm but insistent. "Sir, with respect, you'll need us. I've studied the terrain of Forked Valley—it's treacherous, and you'll need a strategist. Ada is one of the best fighters here, and Solis… well, he has a knack for keeping people alive."
Tedric sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "You're all being reckless now. Pearl wouldn't want you risking your lives for her."
"She'd do it for us," Solis said quietly.
The room fell silent. Tedric stared at them for a long moment, his hardened expression softening just slightly. Finally, he nodded, though his stare remained sharp.
Tedric grabbed his gear and began strapping on his armor. "We'll leave now right away. Get equipments, the real ones. You'll need it."
As they left the room, Ada glanced back at Tedric, her expression determined. "We'll find her, sir. I promise."
Tedric didn't respond, but as the door closed, he allowed himself to reveal his tension on face.