As the elder declared the beginning of the great battle, his figure dispersed like crimson maple leaves, drifting gently before finally vanishing into the air.
Aegon gripped the dragon lance tightly, its spearhead formed by the Bloodfire sword. Above, Tiamat circled restlessly through the skies, searching for the right moment to strike. On the opposite side, Idas's dragonrider was just as cautious, making no move to lunge at Tiamat straightaway.
Though Tiamat was several dozen meters larger than the Golden-scaled Dragonlord, that size didn't give her a clear advantage in a direct clash.
At the moment, the Golden Dragonlord was flapping with full force, flying in an arc behind Tiamat. The larger the dragon, the harder it was to maneuver—so this was a tactic that wasn't difficult to see through.
Aegon tilted his head slightly, casting a glance over his right shoulder at the golden dragon. His fingers unconsciously brushed the backpack at his back—the parachute inside, untested, was his last resort if things went wrong.
High above, two massive beasts, each hundreds of meters long, circled through the sky thousands of meters up. They chased and maneuvered, testing each other's speed. The gap between them slowly but steadily narrowed.
Below, the audience held their breath. Everyone's head was tilted skyward, their eyes wide with anticipation. Dozens of faces stared upward like a cluster of cats mesmerized by a dangling toy, tracking every motion of the two titans in the sky.
On the viewing platform atop Ancestral Peak, Pan's form gradually took shape once more.
"Elder," the head of House Edderion asked respectfully, "which side do you think stands a better chance of winning?"
Pan's expression remained unreadable as he watched the two behemoths. He replied calmly, "It doesn't matter to me who wins. No matter the outcome, one Dragonlord will join our grand plan either way.
We are the true victors."
The head of House Aurélion chuckled at that and praised, "Your strategy is truly brilliant, Elder—absolutely brilliant. House Belaerys never bows to kindness, only to strength. But now, the Mother of Dragons, Tiamat, is the perfect hammer—she'll shatter their brittle shell of pride."
Pan paid him no mind. His gaze remained fixed on the aerial battlefield.
"Look—they're closing in! The fight's about to begin!" someone exclaimed.
High above the plains, Tiamat's heavy bone armor made her slower to maneuver. The Golden Dragonlord spotted his chance and swooped in behind her.
As he prepared to unleash a powerful blast of dragonfire, Tiamat suddenly lashed out with her massive, muscular tail, performing a dangerous, midair J-turn. With that single motion, she pulled away from the pursuing Golden Dragonlord, gaining significant distance.
The spectators—who had traveled from across the world to witness this spectacle—cried out in amazement. Such an acrobatic maneuver seemed impossible for a dragon of Tiamat's enormous size, more like a stunt from a performance than a battlefield tactic.
But Tiamat's astonishing moves weren't finished yet.
She abruptly raised her head and upper body, lifting at a steep 110-degree angle. Then, flipping her entire form over, she rotated until her belly faced the sky and plunged downward in a sharp, controlled dive.
This sudden shift in orientation allowed her to aim her skull squarely at the Golden Dragonlord now trailing below.
Without the slightest hesitation, seizing the moment, Tiamat—at Aegon's command—began channeling her breath. In just a second or two, she completed the necessary motion to unleash it.
A pillar of fire, molten and incandescent like lava, exploded from her jaws, crashing down with overwhelming force toward the Golden Dragonlord.
Cries of astonishment erupted across the plains as the crowd watched the searing column of flame tear through the sky.
But the Golden-scaled Dragonlord was not so easily defeated. In an instant, he dropped his left wing and lifted his right, twisting his massive frame into a sideways roll—his body now vertical to the earth.
The pillar of flame screamed past, just barely missing his exposed underbelly.
The Golden Dragonlord believed he had narrowly avoided the blast—but what he didn't anticipate was that Tiamat was unlike any ordinary dragon. Her breath attack was far longer in duration.
Just as he dodged to the side, Tiamat swiftly turned her head, once again directing the blazing fire toward his exposed belly.
A thunderous boom echoed across the sky.
The explosion rocked the Golden Dragonlord. The flames struck directly against his abdomen, blowing apart one of his hind legs and shredding scales in every direction. Blood gushed from the wounds in a torrent—the scene was brutal and stunning.
The burst of Tiamat's attack was brief, but devastating. In that moment, she was falling through the sky in a free-fall, her back toward the ground. If she didn't stop the attack now and stabilize herself, she'd crash to the earth like a falling mountain.
Roar!
The Golden Dragonlord unleashed an earth-shaking bellow. Some of it came from pain—but far more was raw fury. As the reigning Champion Dragonlord, his pride had just been dealt a humiliating blow. To be injured first in the opening exchange was a disgrace he couldn't tolerate.
In the skies above, Tiamat began to spin rapidly, trying to right herself into a forward-facing position to regain control of her flight.
And such a perfect opportunity would never be wasted.
The Golden Dragonlord slammed his massive wings downward, diving like an arrow loosed from a bow—straight toward Tiamat.
The Golden-scaled Dragonlord was met head-on by an enormous red dragon tail, already fully coiled and waiting to strike. Tiamat had clearly prepared the blow well in advance—and executed it with ruthless precision.
Her massive tail whipped through the air with terrifying speed, so fast that it left a misty vacuum at the tip from sheer force. The blow, propelled by tremendous momentum, had clearly reached supersonic velocity.
But the Golden Dragonlord, burning with rage, chose to take the hit head-on. He charged through the strike, determined to close in and deliver a devastating counterattack to the red dragon.
Tiamat's tail collided directly with the Golden Dragonlord's head.
Boom!
A thunderous explosion tore through the sky. The sound was deafening, so loud it felt like it might rip the heavens apart.
The shockwave burst outward from the point of impact, and Aegon, riding atop Tiamat, took the brunt of it. The blast rocked through his body—his insides seemed to vibrate violently from the force.
Before he had time to recover, the Golden Dragonlord's colossal body came crashing down, bearing straight toward him like a falling mountain. The immense air pressure, combined with the sheer bulk of the beast blocking out the sun, overwhelmed Aegon completely. He shut his eyes in despair—there was no time, no room to act. Even the parachute he'd prepared as a last resort was now completely useless.
But Tiamat felt Aegon's fear. She sensed the danger pressing down on him and let out a defiant roar before twisting her massive body in desperation.
From the ground and the viewing platform atop Ancestral Peak, everyone could see it. They could hear it. The Mother of Dragons was frantically trying to save her rider.
She twisted her body like a creature possessed, contorting until she was nearly vertical—perpendicular to the ground. Her bones groaned audibly under the strain, dragged by the sheer force of her own muscles. The sound was as harrowing as it was awe-inspiring.
Some of her bones cracked under the stress. Shattered splinters of dragonbone pierced through her own flesh, jutting out from her skin in a gruesome display. The effort was clearly agonizing.
But it worked.
Tiamat's maneuver brought her just out of the Golden Dragonlord's path. And the golden dragon, stunned from the tail strike, didn't follow up with another attack.
At that crucial moment, Aegon gritted his teeth and unfastened the safety straps securing him to the saddle.
He gripped the Bloodfire sword—now detached from the lance—with both hands. At that instant, Aegon had let go of all fear. He was going all in.
Tiamat had thrown herself off balance to save him. She was now in a full nosedive, spiraling toward the earth. If Aegon stayed aboard and did nothing, both he and Tiamat were doomed.
So, with steady hands, he swung the massive sword in a wide arc behind him, slashing at the passing red dragon's flank. Then, using the momentum of the swing, he launched himself toward the Golden Dragonlord.
Tiamat continued her rapid descent, plunging toward the ground.
Aegon's sword struck home. The giant Bloodfire blade pierced deep into the golden dragon's hide. Aegon grabbed hold of the embedded sword and used it as an anchor to secure himself atop the enemy's back.
The Golden Dragonlord let out a pained howl. The tail strike had left him dazed, but this fresh wound brought him crashing back to his senses. He flapped his immense wings furiously, struggling to stabilize himself. With a sudden shift, he leveled out of his dive and began climbing skyward again, pushing desperately to return to the upper air.
Boom!
With a deafening roar, Tiamat's massive form smashed into the ground like a falling meteor. The impact blasted a crater into the center of the plains, sending dirt and dust flying in all directions.
For a moment, the crowd could only assume the worst—Tiamat, the Mother of Dragons, had been defeated. Even if she had survived the impact, the sheer force of the crash should have killed her rider, Aegon, outright.
But when those closer to the crater looked up at Tiamat's back, they were stunned.
She was alone.
"Where did the Mother of Dragons' rider go?!"
As confusion rippled through the crowd, the Golden Dragonlord had already climbed back into the sky, circling high above the plains.
And on his back—there was a figure.
Clutching a massive two-handed sword, the rider charged like a predator. Aegon lunged toward the back of the golden dragon's rider, striking like a tiger going for the kill.
The dragonrider of House Belaerys was terrified. In all his decades of experience with dragon combat, he had never encountered an opponent as reckless, fearless, and unrelenting as Aegon.
In his heart, he could think of only one word to describe him: suicide warrior.
Because no one—no one—had ever survived on another rider's dragon. Even among the dragonriders of House Belaerys, no one would dare to casually unstrap their safety harness in flight.
But Aegon had. And now, death was bearing down on him from above.
Aegon dared to do what no one else would.
The moment a flash of blood-red light swept through the sky, the head of the dragonrider from House Belaerys was severed cleanly from his shoulders—his eyes still wide with confusion and fear as it tumbled downward toward the earth.
Almost at the exact moment he struck the killing blow, Aegon leapt off the golden dragon's back without hesitation, plummeting toward the ground at breakneck speed.
The Golden Dragonlord, slow to comprehend what had happened, was completely bewildered. In just an instant, the spiritual link between him and his rider had vanished—cut off without warning.
He hadn't even realized an enemy dragonrider had climbed aboard him. With a dragon of his size and scale, the weight of a human was barely noticeable, especially while flying at high speed. His thick armor-like hide made it nearly impossible to sense such a presence.
From the ground, the spectators could only see a severed head fall from the golden dragon's back, followed immediately by a human figure leaping after it.
Then came the agonized wail of the Golden Dragonlord.
Roar!! Roar-roar-roar-roar-roar!!
The massive dragon rolled and twisted madly in the air, completely unhinged, unable to comprehend what had happened—why his rider had died so suddenly.
A silver parachute blossomed open in the sky at just the right moment. Suspended beneath it, Aegon drifted slowly downward, swaying gently in the wind.
Tiamat, broken and battered, began crawling toward him. Her hind legs were shattered from the fall, but she still dragged herself forward, loyal to the end, wanting only to protect her rider.
After a fit of frenzied, incoherent roaring, the Golden Dragonlord seemed to snap. Mindless with rage, he suddenly dove straight for Tiamat below.
Seeing this, Tiamat paused in her effort to greet Aegon's descent. She narrowed her golden eyes and fixed them on the oncoming dragon. A spark of fierce excitement glinted in her gaze, and she slowly ran her tongue across her snout.
A fight on the ground? That's my favorite.
Tiamat's wild exhilaration rang loud and clear in Aegon's mind.