The Apache's rotors thundered above the scorched ridges of Emberreach, blades carving the air like divine swords. Inigo gripped the controls tightly, HUD flickering with readouts—altitude, airspeed, radar lock—all of it foreign to this world but second nature to him. The sky around him churned with ash and heat as the red dragon spiraled higher, wings burning with unnatural fire.
He watched her movements carefully. She wasn't just a beast—she was experienced, ancient, cunning. Every shift of her wings carved gales into the sky. Every roar cracked the air like thunder.
And yet, she'd never fought anything like this.
Down below, the soldiers and citizens of Ironmark stood spellbound along the cliffs, towers, and terraces. Dozens had gathered at the outer watchposts, drawn by the apocalyptic tremors and sound. Their eyes were locked on the aerial duel, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.
"It's not magic…" a young squire whispered.