"An Ourodrakon." Meg muttered, her voice shaking. "It has only been spotted once before, somewhere in north Florida. Almost completely wrecked the city before it was finally taken down by an entire arsenal of missiles. The fact that something this large can even fly…" her voice trailed away.
The monster was now gliding low over the camp buildings' rooftops, its wide wingspan blocking the evening sun.
And it was just circling, eyeing the camp.
George was yelling "Man the projectiles! Get every missile still available–"
But I knew there was no time. This thing could obliterate this camp from the map in mere minutes.
And what was that figure riding on its back…
The Ourodrakon's snake-like jaw unhinged itself, like a python when swallowing a full cow. A rumble sounded down in its stomach and as I expected, it blew out red blue flames from its throat like the world's largest flamethrower.
Our admin's block—where Hylla's office used to be—was the first target. The force and heat of the attack was enough to crumble the entire building at once, melting through bricks and stone.
The building crumbled at once.
I was about thirty feet away but the heat was still enough to sing my eyebrows from that distance.
Soldiers and campers were scrambling around, trying to load every long range weapon still available in camp—but they needed time. This monster was singlehandedly destroying the entire camp. They wouldn't be able to even mount the weapons at this rate.
And still, what bothered me the most, was that figure on the Ourodrakon's back.
It was positioned calmly there, like the Ourodrakon was its pet. And I just couldn't shake the chilling feeling that that creature was the real problem.
Since it appeared, my inner darkness had started raging again, trying to break to the surface and destroy—but I'd mastered controlling it now, more or less.
Still it bothered me. Why was my dark side reacting to it? Was that thing the monsters' leader? Would I even be able to even fight it? That would mean…
The mess hall exploded, burning tables and chairs flying in every direction as the Ourodrakon torched it.
"We need to bring that thing down." I told Meg who was still frozen beside me.
"Us?" She looked at me like I'm crazy. "That thing is the size of a passenger aircraft!"
Just then, someone in the crowd threw a grappling chain around the Ourodrakon's neck as it flew low again for another fiery attack.
What's a chain gonna do, I thought.
However, the Ourodrakon actually seemed stuck, unable to get away from the chain and the person at the other end of the chain.
Who the hell was that?
I ran forward to get a clearer look. And of course, it could only be one person with such overwhelming strength.
Brody was back.
He was holding on to the other end of the chain, his feet so rooted in the ground, he had created a small crater where he stood.
But even for Brody, holding down something this large was taking every ounce of strength he had in him. And I knew even he couldn't hold it for long.
The Ourodrakon flailed and twisted its body violently and batting its massive leathery wings, trying to be free.
He met my eyes through the chaos, his face tight, red and sweaty. He didn't say anything but I understood.
This was my only chance to get on the Ourodrakon's back to confront that creature and stop the Ourodrakon ravaging the camp.
I sheathed the sword I'd picked up and slung it on my back. Attacking the monster with that sword would probably feel like a toothpick prick on its massive body but it was all I had.
I sprinted toward the Ourodrakon and launched myself into the air, soaring nearly twenty feet before crashing down on the monster's broad, leathery back. Its hide stretched beneath me like a living landscape, ridged and shifting with each muscle that rippled beneath the surface.
Brody's grip slipped from the chains, and in an instant, the Ourodrakon bellowed, wings tearing through the air as it surged skyward once more. Its serpentine neck writhed, the sound of its roar shaking the very sky. The stench of sulfur and molten stone clung to its body, so thick it scorched my lungs.
There was almost nothing to hang on to, just jutting bones and skin. Oh and did I mention that it reeked?
I really wished I'd grabbed a gas mask.
At the base of the neck, the other monster was still seated, bound to its hide with ropes that dug deep into leathery flesh. Up close, it was a lot bigger than I thought.
It turned slowly, as though my arrival had been expected.
Empty eye sockets fixed upon me. Hollow. Endless. As if the void behind them were reaching to devour the last spark of my soul.
And it was vaguely familiar too.
The darkness inside me surged at once. It clawed upward, straining to break free. I gasped and doubled over, my body convulsing with the force of it, every nerve screaming as the presence tried to tear through my skin and overwhelm me.
I curled into a ball, trying to contain myself.
I thought I was prepared! How was I going to fight like this?
Through the fog of pain, I watched as the humanoid figure rose and began striding toward me, each step deliberate, terrible in its inevitability. In its hand, it carried a broadsword—massive, rusted, and nearly the length of my entire body.
And it was coming straight for me.
Then I felt a sudden sharp stabbing pain in my head, almost making me lose consciousness.
An eerie, otherworldly voice whispered in my head.
A foreign ancient language, unlike anything I'd heard before.
And somehow I understood it.
I am one of the Scokytocles. How are you still able to resist our poison in my presence?
The language sounded as if Morse code had gotten mixed up with a lot of hisses and screeches.
And what the heck was a Scokytocles?
No matter. You must die. The Scokytocles taunted.
The Scokytocles raised its giant sword to hack my head off…but at the last second, I broke out of my daze, unslung my sword from my back and managed to block the strike at the last moment and the force nearly knocked my weapon out of my grip.
But I was not going to back down so easily.
I took that moment to strike back immediately, aiming the tip of my sword at its midsection, but it casually parried my attack and backhanded me with its ridiculously bony long hand.
That was such an…unmonster way of fighting?
I staggered back, my face stinging from getting slapped. And yeah, that was embarrassing.
I charged again.
It was insanely strong. But strength wasn't the worst part. No—the terrifying thing was that this creature fought with precision. Intelligence glinted in the way it moved, in the calculated rhythm of its strikes. Unlike every other monster we had faced before, this one knew exactly what it was doing.
Was this a commander?
Was that what Scokytocles meant?
It towered nearly eight feet tall, a gaunt skinny silhouette of sinew and shadow, and yet it swung the broadsword as though it were nothing but a reed. Every slash came swift, deliberate, and merciless. And hard to defend too because it was a freaking five feet broadsword.
I tried to strike back, but every opening vanished before I could even commit. The monster read my movements, countered before I could get inside its defenses. I had no choice but to retreat into defense, my blade snapping up again and again, desperate to keep that weapon from tearing me in half.
Here I was, being on the defensive again. Just like when I fought Hylla. And then Bloodfang.
In my head, the creature cackled.
Even with our poison boost, you are still just a weak mortal.
I didn't have time to respond. I was already out of breath from blocking and dodging.
The Scokytocles swung its sword at my head and I ducked and got inside its attack, thrusting at the midsection again. But it caught my blade in its palm, just a millimeter from gutting him.
The edge bit into its palm, but the monster didn't flinch. It just stared at me, its lips curled in something between a grin and a snarl.
I'm assuming it's a guy. He's just too mean to be a girl. I don't know, I don't spend a lot of time with girls. Only Meg could be this mean. Won't seem too far fetched either.
I strained, trying to move my sword forward but he held me in place, his other massive palm holding my head in place.
I was utterly outmatched.
I felt so small and angry in that state.
The Ourodrakon roared beneath us, blasting the camp with more attacks. Even from up here, I could feel the heat.
The camp wouldn't survive another blast.
I didn't even need to kill this stupid mean Scokytocles immediately. I just needed to get past him to stop the Ourodrakon.
And then do what?
Would my sword be enough to hurt it?
I needed the broadsword.
While I was distracted by my own thoughts, the Scokytocles finally pushed me back and smacked me across the chest with the flat of his blade.
I skidded backwards, my chest exploding in pain.
Give up, mortal. He taunted, You are nothing against a Scokytocles.
That voice was starting to get really annoying inside my head.
As the monster slowly approached me, already feeling victory in its scaly grasp, I hatched up a desperate plan.
I was running out of time. Down below I could see the whole camp was almost gone. The Ourodrakon was doing a great job unsupervised.
I closed my hand around the hilt of my sword, waiting as the Scokytocles approached. Just five feet away…
Four feet…
Three…
I closed my hand around the hilt of my sword.
Two.
I surged up and made a feint at his neck and on instinct, the monster raised his sword to block and I sliced his wrist off in one fluid motion. His sword clattered at my feet.
The monster howled in pain and anger but I rolled between its legs and slashed behind his knees to keep him from chasing me.
I picked up his broadsword. It was a lot heavier than I expected. But it was perfect.
I was going to stop the monster.
I dragged the massive weapon across the Ourodrakon's scaled back, sparks screeching where steel met hide, until I found the soft ridge of the nape. I could feel the pulse of the Ourodrakon hammering beneath my feet.
I raised the sword high, then drove it down with everything I had.
The blade punched deep. The drakon shrieked, fire spilling wild into the night.
Not enough.
I yanked the sword free and plunged it in again. And again. The air filled with the wet, ugly sound of steel tearing flesh.
Sorry, viewers discretion. But it was disgustingly satisfying.
Scales split, purple blood poured, the monster writhed under me, but I didn't stop—not until the back of its neck was a ruin of gore.
I could already feel the Ourodrakon flying lower, about to crash land.
The camp's flames dimmed in the corner of my vision. I'd done it.
But before I could breathe, a shadow fell over me. The Scokytocles tackled me with the force of a boulder, a guttural howl of grief tearing from its throat.
But it was already too late.
The Ourodrakon was already finished.
As the Scokytocles and I free fell thirty feet from our Ourodrakon ride, the Ourodrakon itself crash landed along with us.
As for me, I crashed into a thick orchard and broke a thousand branches on my way down. I was sore but at least not dead.
The Scokytocles wasn't so lucky.
It had gotten shish kebabed by a massive branch and was unmoving, a jagged branch skewering its chest clean through. Purple blood streamed down the bark in heavy rivulets, dripping into the soil.
The drakon lay nearby in a massive smoking crater in the middle of the forest, an unmoving mountain of flesh.
We had crashed fifty yards away from camp. So I had to do a little trekking back to camp.
Or what was left of it.