The world snapped back into existence. With a weird, sickening lurch.
One moment, Spark Nighthawk was flapping his draconic wings above the unfamiliar sea. The next, he was slammed onto hard, uneven cobblestone. His wings was automatically retracted back.
Air left his lungs in a painful rush. The glow around him. Which had been blinding moments ago... It vanished as if it had never been.
He pushed himself up. His powerful muscles was screaming in protest. Blood was roaring in his ears. The air was thick with dust and the acrid smell of danger.
He found himself not in a strange, otherworldly land. But outside the colossal, familiar walls of Eagledome, the Avianest Kingdom's capital city.
But the grand gates, which were usually bustling with merchants and travelers, were tightly shut. And the battlements were bristled with ballistae and arcane cannons.
Around him, dozens... No. Hundreds of other figures materialized with similar violent impacts and groans of discomfort. Most were broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed men. Or people with heavy magical aura.
Their stances hinting at ingrained combat training. They moved with a predatory grace that spoke of dangerous professions.
Yet, oddly, most of them were clad in the intricate, often restrictive, noble attire of the Avianest court. It was a bizarre, unsettling juxtaposition.
Before Spark could fully assess the situation...
A voice, booming and resonant, cut through the rising murmurs of confusion. It was amplified. Echoing from unseen sources. Reverberating directly into their ears.
"Hear me, nobles of the glorious Avianest Kingdom! The time of trial is upon us! Our sacred capital, the heart of our nation, faces an existential threat! The vile, evil dragons, creatures of destruction and chaos, descend upon our walls!"
The voice paused. A dramatic beat. "It is your duty! Your solemn obligation! As the proud inheritors of this kingdom's legacy, as its appointed protectors, you shall fight! You shall defend! You shall defeat these monstrous invaders and secure the glory of the Avianest Kingdom!"
The pronouncement hung in the air. A clarion call to battle. Spark swore silently. Sacred capital? Vile, evil dragons? The rhetoric was thick. Designed to stir loyalty. But it grated on his senses.
Then...
Spark's dark-grey eyes narrowed. He felt it then, a growing pressure from above. A convergence of immense, predatory auras.
He turned his head. And so did all others around him.
The cloud covered skies seemed to ripple. Dark shapes, impossibly large, coalesced from the clouds. Scales glinted. Wings, vast as sails, beat the air. Stirring a gale that whipped at their expensive fabrics.
A horde. A goddamn horde of dragons.
The pieces clicked into place. A grim, horrifying mosaic was forming in Spark's mind. The sudden, forced summons. The capital incident. The combat-ready nobles. The dragons.
This wasn't a random war. This was a setup.
Spark took a deep breath.
This was the culmination. He had been summoned. Not by some random eldritch entity. But by the leaders of the Avianest Kingdom itself. Not to fight some distant, abstract threat. But to throw himself into this manufactured war. The war against the dragons.
He remembered the chaos during the King's centennial birthday celebration. The Holy Sun Cult had launched a devastating plot. Resulting in the deaths of a great number of helpless nobles.
But Spark realized that the higher-ups knew about the plot. And let it happen. He had thought it was a cynical move to annex the dead nobles' wealth. To reduce the number of 'parasite' nobles burdening the kingdom. A cold, efficient purge.
He had only been partly right. But now, his mind was connecting the dots of his own observations.
The new noblemen gathered around him. The ones who had just materialized. The combat-oriented to the core nobles. They were the replacement.
The weak nobles had been culled, cleared out. The strong, the battle-ready, were now summoned. Installed. And expected to serve. A kingdom, replacing its ineffective aristocracy with a fighting force. Just in time for a war...
And the war itself? Spark swore again silently. The initial conflict, the 'provocation' that started this war, the one everyone blamed on dragon first aggression. The excessive vengeance of Mayor Hilldove from Canarine Town...
He wouldn't be surprised if it had been a plot. Initiated by the Kingdom leaders. A false flag. A spark to ignite the very conflict they now demanded their new nobles fight. It was all a grand, insidious scheme.
But, for what? He was not sure yet...
The summoning, too, was chillingly clear now. It was an eldritch ritual. Potent and absolute. A clause, a hidden covenant, tied to the noble appointment within the Avianest Kingdom.
Once they took the title. Or accepted the lands. Or gained certain benefits from the Kingdom... They were bound. They could not escape this call. It was a contractual obligation. Enforced by unseen, immense power.
He looked at the approaching dragon horde. Then at the desperate, albeit hardened, expressions of the new nobles around him.
They were strong, yes. Many possessed potent auras of their own. But they were not that strong. Not strong enough to face down this many dragons. Not without a carefully planned strategy. Overwhelming resources. And supporting heavy artillery. They had none of that.
"Very likely..." Spark muttered. The words were barely audible over the growing roar of the wind from the dragon wings, "... we're just pawns. Used to halt them for a while. To buy time for their other insidious plans."
He couldn't shake the bitter taste of being manipulated. He was a survivor. He would not die as a pawn in someone else's political game.
A primal roar ripped from his throat. A sound that carried the raw power of something wild and untamed. His huge frame began to convulse. Muscles were rippling beneath his clothing. Scales and black fur erupted across his tanned skin, rapidly thickening.
His slightly crooked nose elongated into a formidable snout. Teeth sharpening into deadly fangs. Draconic horns grew on his forehead. His hands thickened. Claws extending. He transformed into his towering Draconic Werelion form.
As his transformation completed, he reached into his Technomind Space. With a thought, his Hellfire Rifle materialized in his massive hand. The technomind gear weapon was heavy and deadly. Yet, they felt like an extension of his will.
He lifted it. The heavy stock nestling against his transformed shoulder with ease, and aimed.
He picked the largest dragon in the approaching vanguard. A monstrous beast with scales the color of charcoal. Its eyes were glinting with malicious intelligence.
Spark didn't hesitate. He pulled the trigger.
BANG!
A blinding flash of hellfire erupted from the muzzle. A concentrated projectile of metal and pure elemental fury. It tore through the air. Screaming like a banshee. And it slammed into the dragon's head with a concussive boom.
The charcoal dragon roared. Its massive head snapped back violently from the impact. But as Spark watched, the creature quickly recovered.
Shaking its head. A low growl rumbling in its throat. There was no visible damage. Not even a scorch mark. The bullet had merely annoyed it.
The dragon was now focused on its minuscule, transformed opponent below. It let out a piercing shriek of rage. It folded its wings and plummeted. A living meteor bent on destruction.
Spark roared in defiance and lowered his body. Ready for the battle. He was a survivor. He would fight on his terms.
Around him, the other nobles were shocked but galvanized. They began to summon their own weapons. Chanting their own spells. Preparing for the inevitable clash. Panic mingled with defiance in the air.
The charcoal dragon was upon them. Its maw opened. Spewing a torrent of black, corrosive fire. Spark roared. Activating full body [Elemental Coating - Water].
A shimmering, translucent shield of swirling water instantly enveloped him. Deflecting the black flame into sizzling steam. The heat was immense. But the elemental barrier held.
He lunged forward. A blur of fur, scales, and muscle. The dragon, surprised by his speed, tried to adjust.
That was its mistake. As it swiped a massive claw, Spark activated [Devil Contract (Time Stop)]. The world around him twisted. Slowed down, then froze. The dragon's claw, a few centimeters from his face, hung motionless.
The frantic cries of the other nobles. The beating of distant wings... All were silenced. All went still.
In this frozen moment, Spark moved with blurring speed. His [Godspeed Reflex] making him an impossibly fast predator. He only had three seconds of time stop.
He vaulted over the frozen claw. Stepping on it to gain elevation. He aimed his Hellfire Rifle at the dragon's eye. This time, he wasn't just relying on the common ammo.
He reloaded his gun with special penetrative bullet. Channeled pure instant-casted {Elemental Coating - Lightning] on it. And fired. While somersaulting backward.
Time-stop ended...
The hellfire-lightning bullet exploded against the dragon's eye. Not just impacting, but penetrating deep. It wasn't enough to kill. But it blinded the dragon's eye. Destroying an eye of the charcoal scaled monster.
The dragon shrieked. A sound of agony and fury. Its head whipped around. Blood squirted from the wound.
Its tail, thick as an ancient tree trunk, lashed out. A blur of motion too fast for the average eye. Spark tried to evade. But he failed.
He felt the impact. A glancing blow that sent him tumbling. His [Draconic Bones] were groaning under the strain. He hit the cobblestones hard. Sliding several feet. Scattering debris. Pain flared. A sharp jolt.
He pushed himself up. A fresh surge of aggression replacing the pain. The wounded dragon roared angrily. Pushing aura of devastation and desolation toward its surrounding.
Spark's [King Disposition] automatically flared. Neutralizing the immense, ancient aura of the enraged dragon. Preventing the sheer intimidation from paralyzing him.
He was immune from the aura suppression. But not from the damage. The bruising agony of the dragon's tail. But, he casted his [Celestial Healing] on himself. Within a fraction of a second, it already began to knit the torn muscle and dull the ache.