Dragons truly were rare entities in the world, standing at the very pinnacle of all legends. But “dragon” was a broad concept; not all within its family tree were equal. Some dragons were indeed myths for mortals, like the Rainbow Dragons or Time Dragons said to have existed before the current Age, their power reaching the limits of mortal imagination. Yet others often became trophies for so-called heroes — just as a White Dragon could not be compared to other dragons, a Young Dragon could not stand beside an Ancient One.
—The Book of True Dragons.
Facing the icy rainbow streaking across the sky, Constantine stood quietly within the smoke, his face hidden in the shadow of his hood. His lips were pressed tightly together without expression, thick darkness flickering within his eyes… Then, in the next instant, a phantom woven of beautiful white feathers flashed behind him and shattered into pieces. Under gravity’s pull, his figure fell downward like a wingless bird. Air currents whipped past his robe, clouds whirled around him, a thin straight line carving through the thick whiteness.
However, a dragon’s Breath Weapon wasn’t something easily dodged. Benign Frost · Benedict Lonperon merely gave a slight nod with his jaw. The long arc crossing the heavens cut down like a sharp sword. A shadow dozens of feet wide pressed down from above, instantly coating the gray robe with a layer of stark white frost!
Yet the gray robe of magic erupted with a layer of invisible liquid at that moment. In rippling waves, the frost shattered, dispersed, and vanished completely. Multiple jets of flame burst out from the void right then!
Compared to the dragon’s massive Breath Weapon spanning the sky, these flames, capable of burning a house to ash, seemed so insignificant. It was nothing more than a messy crackle of sparks; their energy was already gone — but it was enough. The collision of cold and scorching heat churned and pulled the surrounding air. Power beyond imagining warped the icy rainbow, like a hand violently bending the blade of that giant sword. This was the rule of nature, above most powers. Therefore, even a dragon’s breath and magic could not escape its control.
His most potent attack had inexplicably missed?
The breath weapon reared up like a snake, a glorious spectacle that made Benedict Lonperon pause, then let out a furious roar… And all this happened in mere moments. Just then, the figure of the Silver Lady had only just emerged from the portal.
Especially now. The blackness seething upon that gray figure instantly stirred her memories — scenes flashed before her eyes: a hand casually tearing through barriers of space, reducing thousands of demons to ash…
“Fo, stop playing dead!”
On the other side of the battlefield, the falling sorcerer curled his body and muttered a low-toned reproach…
The icy wind swept away the sound instantly. But — an arcane force field erupted from a single point, sweeping across the entire area, dispelling all ongoing magical effects. The magically condensed mist dissolved. The Silver Lady, flying towards the battle, felt her body sink. The force restraining space took the brunt. With a crackling sound, a wave of energy rippled out in the air!
“I say, master, you must know, while this damned ice is no trouble for a being such as my great self…”
The lich’s chatter streamed into his mind, but Constantine had no mind to admonish the verbose contracted creature now. His eyes locked onto that proud silver figure. Immense magical energy was gathering within the dragon’s long neck, hazy silver light points forming segments of runes — a second, deadly breath weapon.
The obscuring mist was gone. Constantine knew his every move was now visible to the people in the city below. He had to act swiftly, preventing this troublemaker from launching any further attacks. Moreover, if attacked by two Silver Dragons simultaneously, even Constantine would likely have to retreat temporarily, rendering today’s efforts to waste.
The Black Flame blazed fiercely.
The gray figure flickered in the air, crossing only tens of feet each time, but with incredible speed. Countless afterimages trailed behind him. As the flickering afterimages vanished one by one… space itself seemed to contract for an instant. Then, streams of light as brilliant as stars burst from the void!
Benign Frost · Benedict Lonperon’s screech was nearly a scream of madness!
Ignoring the partially gathered Breath Weapon scattering all over, he stared in terror. Each streak of light igniting before him condensed into a blade of arcane energy. Countless flying blades blossomed with dazzling brilliance, momentarily dimming the moonlight! In mere breaths, the circulating blades of radiance completed countless piercing and slashing attacks… The Silver Dragon’s proud scales proved as fragile as wood beneath iron against these magical blades. Excruciating pain flooded his mind; even a dragon could only instinctively curl in on itself at that moment!
But it wasn’t over! In a pulse of light and shadow, that tiny human figure appeared right before his eyes, so close. Then, heavy darkness stretched out, blinding him!
As a sudden oppressive weight pressed down over his entire body, he felt caught in the grasp of a massive, shadowed claw. The immense strength held him frozen, unable to even twitch! Even more horrifying, an eroding force saturated with death surged madly into his body! Countless sharp pains and chills stabbed him everywhere, like plunging into icy thorns. The icy sting made him howl. He wanted to struggle, but the numbness rendered him utterly powerless to move even a single muscle!
An invisible barrier silently unfolded in the air at that moment, then shattered with a crash!
“Release him! You demon! Or… else…”
A hint of strained urgency entered the Silver Dragon Lady’s voice. Translucent force fields around her shattered like dying fireflies as her silver form stood beside the sorcerer… her right hand raised levelly.
Her hand was white, smooth, like fine jade. But in the blink of an eye, brilliant blue ice crystals formed upon its slender grace. A sharp ice spear pointed directly at Constantine’s throat. Its freezing tip hovered just an inch from his skin, shimmering under the moon. No one doubted this blade—water its source, chill its bones—possessed lethal sharpness no less than any magical weapon!
Yet the weapon froze, unable to advance even the slightest…
Everything seemed suspended by a temporal spell. His dark gray robe was now shrouded in thick shadows. Constantine remained motionless in the air, right hand raised, his palm placed squarely atop the Silver Dragon’s massive head. But the Black Flame, bestowed by Lord Oblivis, held far greater power than the icy blade. The seething black fire crawled across the dragon’s scales!
Wendinora saw things differently — a dragon’s vision pierced appearances to perceive energy flux… So, the Silver Lady could clearly see the black fire acting like countless spikes, deeply piercing the ghastly wounds covering Benedict Lonperon’s body, penetrating all defenses. They pulled at patches of pale green luster that kept squirming, stretching outward!
It was… the dragon’s soul!
The soul’s green radiance pulsed, seeming to expend all strength to maintain its place within the flesh. But the effort seemed futile. The countless claw-tips formed by the black flames held strange, immense power. No matter how the dragon’s spirit struggled, it was inexorably dragged inch by inch from the body by that dark glow!
“What exactly is this? A threat or an order?”
The shadow beneath the sorcerer’s hood shifted, curved into a sneer, as if the icy point at his neck was an illusion… Perhaps it truly was… For the next moment, he crooked a finger and tapped the blade lightly. Power channeling six layers of the Weave of Magic surged out. The longsword, formed of icy arcane power, was decomposed and shattered by opposing forces—poof—vanishing into a shower of sparkling snow dust!
“Release him?” His smile widened. Crooking his fingers, he wrapped the surrounding space in a Greater Illusion spell, his tone relaxed as if discussing dinner plans. “You should know my way… Acting solely on strength, such beings deserve no pity from me… Besides, a dragon’s soul? I have even less reason to refuse such a prize.”
His voice was calm and deep, yet rang with undeniable power. Every word seemed to make the silver woman’s form tremble… And within just those few sentences, a hefty portion of the dragon’s soul had been torn free. Outside the body, it formed the dragon’s head and neck. Benedict Lonperon’s body, however, weakened visibly, its proud head drooping low. Replacing it, the soul-constructed face distorted in struggle, letting out a soundless scream of agony from its very essence!
“You cannot do this! You… you cannot arbitrarily extinguish an innocent soul!” Wendinora’s voice grew sharper and hoarser. Moonlight illuminated the contours of her face, rendering her already pale skin translucent like ice crystals.
“Why not? One moment you call me a demon, the next demand I act like a saint? What kind of ridiculous logic is that?” The sorcerer shifted his gaze slightly, observing the face etched with boundless fear and fury yet still beautiful. A flicker—tiny, incredibly faint, yet undeniably there—of sourness touched his heart. “If I compare myself to Mr. Benign Frost · Benedict Lonperon here, I suppose what surpasses him is strength and intelligence, nothing more… But that seems useless. In some areas…” Some strange notions suddenly surfaced, making his subsequent tone even harsher and colder.
“Want to spare his life? Fine. But the trade must be something equivalent. For example… your soul…”
“That… is impossible! My soul cannot fall into your hands either! For us, between the purity of the spirit and existence itself, there is no choice to make!”
Wendinora lowered her head slowly, seeming trapped in hesitation. But within moments, she straightened up, silver teeth clenched, uttering a word thick with resolve, her tone carrying such finality that even the sorcerer hidden in shadow furrowed his brow.
Before speaking, he had anticipated possible reactions. This particular one was troublesome. Dragons weren’t human; one couldn’t predict them using solely human psychology. Moreover, they weren’t communal creatures in the traditional sense; emotions couldn’t necessarily bind them.
After this… the delicate, ambiguous balance between them likely couldn’t hold… But it was that very ‘neither friend nor foe’ relationship that made her value questionable… After all, the spoils from pulling a Silver Dragon’s soul into the spiritual void, plus the dragon’s corpse — the gain likely wouldn’t be worse than having an unpredictable, potential ally…
“Hmm… So that’s how it must be then. Pretend you didn’t see it…”
Weighing pros and cons in his heart, Constantine kept the Black Flame surging. Slowly, he closed his eyes. The churning darkness grew fiercer, changing shape intensely. The tearing force increased. As his own power grew, Constantine wielded the Black Flame more masterfully. Though he was now in the Prime Material Plane, a peculiar certainty filled him: if he focused, pulling the complex soul structure from the body wasn’t too formidable a task.
As his mental power sank deeper, the Black Flame concentrated. The dragon soul, its green-light-formed head raised high, screamed a soundless cry of agony. Its spirit was mostly ripped free! Vitality began fading from the huge form!
“You must release him!” Wendinora’s voice rang out again, slow and deliberate, word by word… yet gone was the human clarity — it had transformed into a draconic roar!
The Silver Lady clasped her hands in a peculiar posture. Pinpricks of light began gathering within her grasp, drifting down the air like firefly snowflakes at night. Constantine could perceive the flow of arcane power and discern that each glowing speck was a tiny rune. They assembled into deep, obscure divine runes. The surging energy from scripture instantly encased the hundred-foot circle centered upon the two dragons and the human! The space affected solidified like crystal!
“Or… we will all perish!”
A jolt went through Constantine’s heart. He saw the expression on the woman’s face transform. It suddenly calmed, becoming composed. After that instant, the sorcerer detected no emotion on her jade-like face. Yet that very impassivity radiated horrifying deterrence. Just like her words… the threat thickened into near-solidity.
“Fine. An alternative condition then… You must become my servant… Obey my every command. Can you accept this?”
The sorcerer remained silent for a long moment, then offered a viable compromise.
“I swear by the Majesty of Landis, God of Balance…”
The Silver Dragon Lady’s brow furrowed deeper as her chest rose and fell, regulating increasingly rapid breaths. Only after many moments did she lift her head, the firm resolve back in her voice… But the sorcerer cut her off without hesitation. “Enough. An oath sworn by a god who abandoned their believers, or by a believer abandoned by their god — you expect me to trust such nonsense?”
“Then… I swear by my father, Karlos the Silver Frost…”
“Not that either. I don’t disdain the dead, but I doubt their ability to oversee anything bound by Death’s laws… I need an oath with real binding power.”
A flush of anger, like rose on fine porcelain, appeared on her face. But in the end, she bit her teeth and spoke a low sequence of sounds.
“With the eternally flowing River Styx as witness, I, Dragonkin of Benedict Aestran Mountains, Wendinora Silverscale, hereby swear that unless…”
“A Styx Oath? You truly do take me for a demon, Wendinora…”
Constantine shook his head slowly, resigningly. After her rolling draconic voice finished the oath with “…never betray…”, a hazy blood-red glow flashed across both their foreheads. So, the Black Flame began receding from the Silver Dragon’s immense body. The green radiance gradually merged back with the silver frame…
But just before the soul’s head slipped fully back into the body, the last trace of darkness broke away. It coiled and swirled upon the soul’s crown, inscribing a black rune…
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