Chapter 94 The Attack on Hellbane pt2
Tharros bellows in anguish as he’s bitten and torn by his own harem, their scales glinting with malice under the influence of the dark enchantment. The blue dragon takes to the air, joining the assault against their leader. The green dragon follows suit, snapping and clawing at the blue’s tail in a frenzy to bring it down.
I meet my friends in the center of the courtyard, each of us grasping the other as we watch the battle of dragons above Hellbane. It’s violent. Bloody.
Unstoppable.
“What the fuck is happening?” Sylvain screams, her green eyes wide with horror.
“Where’s Thorne?” I demand.
They look at me all at once, eyes dismayed.
“We can’t find him,” Zaries tells me as he lays his hand on my shoulder.
His heavy gaze says it all. Thorne is likely another victim of this twisted attack.
“And where’s Silas?” I hiss, readying my blade in my hand again.
All eyes turn skyward where a red dragon maneuvers among the throng of attacking dragons, as though overseeing the chaos. Perched upon her back is a glowing green orb, within which Silas himself resides.
From our vantage point, I can't discern his words, but I see the way his body convulses with laughter. He thrusts his hands forward, unleashing torrents of green fire that lash out at the dragons encircling him. Each blast of his power seems to stoke their fury, driving them further into madness.
“Children! Seek shelter!” Whist’s voice suddenly pierces through the chaos, her figure materializing before us as if conjured from thin air. “You have no hope of prevailing. Let the captains—”
She unleashes a harrowing scream as a blaze of fire consumes her, flaring so bright we lift our arms to protect our faces. We yank them down a second later, but all that remains of Whist is a pile of ash where she once stood. My gaze darts from the smoldering remnants to the red dragon in the sky, where she roars with victory.
“Worthless! All of you!” Silas’s voice reverberates from atop the dragon's back, filled with contemptuous rage.
Shadows, poison, and steel fly past us, sheltering us while simultaneously attacking the dragon. Terror is a violent drum in my chest as the remaining captains close in on Silas from their alicorn’s back. Bane’s shadows hide us in the smoke of the fires. Poison vines ensnare us, pulling us back toward the shelter of Hellbane’s ruins. Blades of steel swirl around us like a tornado, protecting us from any incoming attacks.
“You must live!” Steel roars as he soars away. “You’re the only ones left, the future of the slayers. Run! Flee! You’re our only hope!”
“What…” Zaries rasps as he moves closer to me.
Horror fills me with ice. There are no more slayers fighting the dragons. Alicorns are running or flying away, their riders destroyed in battle. The remaining servants huddle, some desperately trying to remove their dead from the battlefield.
Hellbane is laid to ruin.
Hellbane is as dead as all its slayers.
I’ll lead them away, that’s all I can do! You must live, Anara! You must survive! Amaranthine needs you!
Tharros’s voice in my mind makes me shriek in horror. I fall to my knees, terrified and paralyzed. My friends crowd around me, all trembling as much as I am. High above, the dragons grow smaller and smaller as they chase Tharros.
Yet the red dragon remains as the captains close in.
They’ll either end this.
Or Silas’ reign of death and terror isn’t over.
The red dragon reaches out with talons as large as tree trunks and snatches Bane off his alicorn, crushing both of them in her iron grip. Bones crunch, and the sound of the alicorn’s desperate cries is abruptly silenced. When she releases them, they fall to the cobblestones below, landing as an unrecognizable pile of viscera.
Blight roars in anguish, the sound echoing deep in my veins. With a primal scream, he unleashes every ounce of poison he has, hurling it at Silas. The poison clouds the sky, hissing as it burns through the air.
Silas, momentarily startled by the unexpected attack, falters. His grip on his magic slips just long enough for one of Steel’s expertly thrown blades to pierce the magical barrier protecting him. The blade spears through Silas' shoulder.
The red dragon screams in fury, her mouth opening wide to spew a torrent of fire that engulfs Steel. His screams are short-lived as she devours him whole, her teeth closing with a sickening crunch.
Blight, now the last captain standing, lands on the dragon's back. Roaring, he races toward Silas, his eyes blazing with the intent to kill. But he never reaches his target. The dragon's tail whips up with terrifying speed. Tipped with a massive, barbed spike, it impales Blight with such force that his body is torn in two, his legs separating from his torso in a gruesome explosion of blood.
Sylvain screams next to me, the scream of a woman who just watched her lover die a gruesome death. Oberon reaches for her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form, while Zaries does the same for me. We’re both crying out in protest, but their urgency is palpable. They guide us, almost carrying us, away from the courtyard and into the shadows of the mess hall ruins.
As we reach the relative safety of the ruins, they press us gently against the walls, shielding us with their bodies. The men are breathing heavily, their faces etched with unbearable terror, their eyes wide and haunted by the horrors unfolding around us. I can feel Zaries’ heart pounding against my chest, fast and panicked.
“We have to stay hidden,” Oberon whispers, his voice cracking with fear and desperation as he presses Sylvain further behind him.
Zaries rests his forehead against mine, his breath warm and ragged. “We can’t lose you,” he murmurs, his voice filled with an emotion so raw it makes my heart ache. “Not now.”
“This isn’t over!” Silas screams from above, and I picture him holding his injured shoulder. The captains didn’t survive, but their bravery ended the attack. “It won’t be over until all of you are dead! Amaranthine will be mine. Mine!”
The powerful beats of the red dragon flying away gradually fade, leaving a deafening silence in its wake, only to be shattered by the cries of the wounded. We slowly step out of the building, each movement heavy with the dread of what we might see.
Silent and pale, we face the carnage.
Lava bubbles from where the cobblestones were broken. Burned and bloodied bodies lie everywhere. Servants huddle over their dead, guards doing anything they can to help the wounded but alive.
“Call the healers! Oh gods, call the healers!” someone screams, but it falls on deaf ears.
My eyes scan Hellbane—the healer’s area is completely flattened. There will be no salvation for anyone here.
“What are we going to do now?” Oberon asks, his voice but a whisper.
“Everyone is dead,” Zaries murmurs.
“We’re alone?” Sylvain asks, her trembling hand slipping into mine.
“We’re alone,” I confirm, terror waning to the horror of realization.
Hellbane has been razed to the ground.
We’re the last slayers in Amaranthine.