Apocalyptic Dragon Riders

Chapter 6

The golden shield around the dragon still crackled with snakes of lightning that slithered across its surface before finally fading away. Morin hadn’t expected to use one of his combination techniques with Goldcoin — “Solar Storm” — so early, and the results left him less than satisfied.

When Goldcoin’s metallic scales turned mirror-smooth, they amplified Morin’s Light-element magic, turning a standard flash spell into a blinding solar flare — a perfect sphere of dazzling light that could temporarily blind every creature in sight. But the technique demanded absolute precision from the dragon: even the slightest imperfection in Goldcoin’s surface would ruin the effect.

Morin had developed this move after years of experimentation. The problem was that once “Solar Storm” was activated, any non-Light-element dragon would also lose its vision, forced to rely entirely on its rider’s commands. It was a technique that demanded flawless trust and coordination — or else both rider and dragon would end up as blind flies hurtling toward death.

From afar came the thunderous roars of a dozen more dragons, each carrying a knight, swooping in from different angles to cut off the fleeing dark shapes darting between the storm clouds.

On the ground below, over forty dragons from the Slaine Empire launched skyward, joining the fight. The Tessi Empire’s response was immediate — dark clouds rolled across the horizon as griffon knights, storm roc riders, blazing pegasus lancers, windhawk riders, and even a handful of rare dragon knights took to the skies. For the first time, both sides unleashed their full aerial strength in an all-out battle — an unprecedented clash of winged might.

The heavens turned into a theater of magic. Devastating spells of every element lit up the sky like fireworks, as if cost no longer mattered. The mounts unleashed their racial abilities from afar, hurling deadly attacks long before closing to melee. When they did finally meet, the riders’ weapons flashed, slashing at enemy knights or striking at enemy mounts in a brutal dance where a single mistake meant being blasted from the sky by a stray spell.

A dragon bit clean through a griffon’s neck, and its knight immediately swung his blade, decapitating the griffon rider. But within seconds, six or seven storm rocs swarmed him from every direction.

In the chaos, a dragon knight was ripped from his saddle by a roc’s iron talons, screaming as he was flung into the open sky. Several massive violet-blue lightning bolts struck him midair, charring him into a falling cinder. The now-riderless dragon went berserk, tearing two rocs and their riders apart, but more poured in, surrounding him. The dragon’s furious roars echoed until they were cut short — dragon blood sprayed the sky as the beast fell, spent and dying, hounded by relentless fireballs and lightning until it crashed into the earth.

Not even dragon knights could call themselves invincible here. The death of one dragon-and-rider pair often came at the cost of ten or more other aerial cavalry. Even so, the Slaine Empire’s losses were staggering — greater than in any battle since the start of the war.

In the rear command tents, strategists watching the sky through hawk-eye spells and scrying mirrors felt cold sweat run down their backs.

In just fifteen minutes, fifteen dragons and over twenty dragon knights had been killed. Tessi’s losses were also horrific — nearly half its aerial forces gone, including several of its precious dragon knights.

Such bloodshed terrified everyone. Would the dragon race dissolve their ancient pact with humankind after this? Dragons reproduced painfully slowly — fifteen dead dragons represented nearly sixty years of births. For a race barely numbering over ten thousand, this was a devastating blow.

On the ground, the clash of a million soldiers turned into a tide of blood. War drums thundered, horns blared, and the two armies smashed together like colliding oceans. The front-line infantry charged, weapons leveled, while the ranks behind them kept advancing in lockstep. Retreat was impossible — anyone who stepped back was immediately trampled to pulp by the mass of soldiers pressing forward.

Cavalry formations slammed into enemy infantry and cavalry lines alike. Shouts, screams, the clash of steel, and the shriek of dying men merged into a single deafening symphony — the Reaper’s music. Arrows and spells crisscrossed the low sky, fire, water, ice, wind, even necromantic magic exploding like deadly fireworks. Mages countered one another’s spells while still hurling their strongest magic at the enemy lines. Every spell that landed carved an empty space into the melee — but within seconds, the gap was filled with fresh bodies. Precision no longer mattered; each blast reaped lives by the dozen.

The sky reflected the chaos below. The clouds seethed with wild magic — one side black and writhing with lightning, the other burning red like molten rock, streaked with exploding flame.

“Morin! The mage corps is preparing a forbidden spell — it’s too dangerous, we have to pull back!” Arka’s voice rang out as Misair, his fire dragon, darted past on Goldcoin’s right flank. A massive black dragon pursued him, the two titans weaving through the sky in a deadly chase.

Even the Tessi Empire possessed dragon flutes — legendary relics that forged the bond between dragon and rider — and thus fielded their own dragon knights. These flutes were ultimate strategic weapons, kept under strict control by every empire. To possess one without royal sanction was treason punishable by death for an entire bloodline. The art of making dragon flutes had long been lost to history, and the few that remained could only be seized by killing a dragon knight in battle — a nearly impossible feat.

The storm clouds churned with more and more violent magic, making the sky unsafe even for veteran riders. The air battle was being forced lower and lower, which only made it deadlier — arrow volleys, enchanted bolts, and massive repeating crossbows firing chain-linked spears reached ever upward. To a rider, being dragged from the sky was like a warhorse tripping on a battlefield — a quick, brutal death was almost guaranteed as the ground forces swarmed.

Goldcoin had already thinned down noticeably, his metallic body shedding spike after spike, blade after blade. Each attack was devastating — and draining.

Gold dragons lived on metals and ores, storing them within their bodies as armor plating. In battle, they could reshape this metal into weapons, even launch them as projectiles. But aside from their magnetic fields — which gave them lift and a repulsive shield — gold dragons had almost no magical attacks. They were designed by the Creator to be brutal melee fighters, not spellcasters.

In just the time it took to drink a cup of tea, Morin and Goldcoin had killed sixteen enemies — one of the highest tallies among their comrades.

Above, the red cloud of the fire mages’ forbidden spell collided with the writhing black storm cloud of the enemy’s. The resulting explosion of clashing magic shook the sky like the wrath of the gods.

Still, neither Tessi nor Slaine gave the order to retreat their air cavalry.

“Damn them! They’re using their own air corps as bait to hold us here!” Morin cursed, slapping Goldcoin’s side. Dragon knights had the right to withdraw at their own discretion — this was not considered desertion. Every monarch knew that dragon knights were too rare, too valuable to waste on suicidal last stands.

“Morin! Morin! What’s my kill count?” came a shout from a young man on a wyvern — Grelang, the spoiled son of the Minister of Civil Affairs.

The i***t had spent the whole battle lurking at a distance, too scared to even approach the melee, and now had the gall to come looking for glory.

Both sides usually recalled their air cavalry before forbidden spells went off to avoid annihilation, but whoever recalled first risked being ambushed by the other side’s last strike. To withdraw safely required perfect timing and constant maneuvering — it was an art form among sky knights.

At last, the first collision of the forbidden clouds detonated with a deafening roar that froze every rider’s heart. The swirling melee instantly broke apart.

Then the fire cloud erupted — a storm of fireballs rained down, crisscrossing the sky like falling meteors, filling the heavens with burning death. Even friendly forces were caught in the storm.

Mounts twisted and dove desperately to avoid the barrage. A single fireball could be survived — but caught in a cluster, even the hardiest riders would be blasted from the sky.

At the same time, Tessi’s storm cloud released its fury — countless blue-violet lightning bolts weaving into a blinding net that dropped from the heavens toward the earth.