A chill in the air, harsh gusts of wind blowing at random, and the sky completely blanketed with clouds were the perfect punctuations to the importance of this night. Despite there being no light, Ling’s new sword glowed like a thousand suns. Its pure brilliance was unmatched—this sword was superior to that of Sora’s. Etched into this one’s hilt were the words “armor of the gods”. Ling didn’t know what they did, only that “armor of demigods” was the inscription on the blades of most of his allies, blades which he had also made.
Bonfires were numerous, dotting the landscape. Were they bonfires, or villages? Sometimes Ling though he could hear the beating of leathery wings in the distance. Though Searing Light, as he had named it, was in his hand, at his side and in its scabbard was another sword, named Cold Truth. Together, he thought he had a chance against the Dragon herself.
“Men, we ride!” Ling roared when he was sure he saw the wings directly in front of him, about a mile ahead. A battle cry was shout by the warriors in unison. Ling remained silent. Grabbing Cold Truth from where it was kept, Ling put the blades next to each other and chanted, “Darkness will not corrupt you, the righteous will wield you, and for you legends will be made. Immortal blade of Shining Death, come forth to your holder!” Where he learned that, he did not remember. It was irrelevant, for he had the strongest blade in existence.
Sora’s roar pushed Ling’s horse back with the sheer volume. Ling grimaced when he thought of who gave her that power. He knew what he had to do from here. “Sora! You are being accused of crimes against innocents and evil forces alike! With the power bestowed upon me by the creators, I will destroy you here in the name of justice!”
“When did you change into such a maggot, Ling?” Sora snarled. “What a fool you are if you believe you can destroy me!”
“I saw with my own eyes what destruction you reaped. I decided a consistent, reliable evil is a better choice than…than you.”
“Attack, miserable mortal! Attack and face your doom!”
“Back, men! On my cue will you attack!” Ling dismounted and charged her. Wind screaming in his ears, darkness overwhelming his soul, he kept moving, gambling with death and fate alike with this single action. Time crawled along, as the men kept back in a semicircle while he charged at a black dragon, scales glimmering and teeth glowing. Her red eyes stared at him mercilessly. As though running through molasses, he pulled Shining Death off the scabbard on his back, forcing it downward as the breath of pure flame hurled itself at him, the only fast-moving thing in existence.
It was cloven in half, spreading itself out around him. “So, you think you can win because you can cut apart my fire? Prepare yourself!”
Slamming his eyes shut, Ling screamed, gripped the sword with all the power he possessed. The darkness in the world disappeared. Only Ling and Sora existed in this state, hunter and prey. Ling threw his sword point-first into Sora’s mouth. As the blade cut through to the other side, scales and all, Ling shouted, “Surround her!”
Hearing their footsteps stop, for he could not see them, he yelled, “Raise!”
“THROW, FOR ALL YOU ARE WORTH! THROW!” Until the day he died, Ling could hear the dragon screaming with the pain of having eleven swords inside her massive neck at the same time. She deserved the pain, and he deserved the memory. Turning around, he truly opened his eyes again. The sky had cleared to show a full moon, beautiful and eerie. There was no more wind, no more fire. A new age had almost begun.
There's an epilogue, and I already wrote it. I'll put it online later today.
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