Robin stood on the other side of the Risen forces. During the confusion of the conflict on Grima's back, he had made his way away from his friends and through the enemy forces.
Naga, the Holy Dragon, had told Chrom the only way to be certain Grima never rises again was for the Fell Dragon to be destroyed by its own power, power that Robin knew he had the ability to use, he was meant to be the host to this monster after all.
Yet Chrom being Chrom, and refused the idea, instead relying on the power of Falchion, the blade that defeated Grima before, to put the beast to rest yet again. His stance on the matter was that when Grima rises again, those in the far-flung future would be better equipped to defeat him for good.
Robin did not deal in what ifs and maybes. He was a tactician, he dealt with facts and truths of the here and now. And that means that Grima, the Fell Dragon, the monster meant to destroy all humanity, must be dealt with now, while they had the chance.
Leaving his friends, his comrades, and his yet to be born daughter from the future, Robin walked towards the neck of his foe. Risen charged at him from both sides, but Robin would not stop, not here, not this close. He had with him the strongest magic his army had, using Thoron and Ragnorok, he cleared himself a path.
Making his way to his goal, he saw standing before him his own body, a version of himself, possessed by Grima, from the future his daughter and the other children of the Shepherds came from.
"Well, well, look who it is," Grima said, slowly walking toward Robin, "Finally come to join me? Finally, ready to submit to your destiny?"
"I am ready for my destiny," Robin said, getting into a combat stance, drawing his Brave Sword. "My destiny in destroying you and freeing the world from your evil forever."
Grima tilted his head to the sky and laughed, the beast on which they stood shook too as it laughed as well.
"You, the tactician, the strategist, intend to kill me? Grima? The welders of the Falchion haven't been able to kill me, and you stand there, with a sword and a spell tome, acting as if you stand a chance."
Robin stood his ground. He wasn't backing down, he was going to kill this monster with its own power, but how?
"Well, it's not like you are still needed anyway," Grima said, pacing his own shoulders," My true form is already awakened, and your child, my child technically, could work as a host if the Prince ever gets through the risen to use it. Thank you for bringing her by the way. I wonder which of the women you brought I should keep, to birth more Grima children into the world?"
Robin was getting angry, but he wouldn't let Grima or his taunts get to him…. or maybe he should? Magic had an emotional quality to it, fire spells burned hooter when the caster is mad. If he gave into to his anger, maybe he could tap into the power Grima wielded, maybe that was his ticket to victory. But he needed to get Grima mad too.
Stabbing his sword into the ground behind him and closing his spell tome, Robin crosses his arms and grins at Grima.
"You know, for all your power and might, I am truly surprised you bother with us mortals. Or for that matter you waste your time and power resurrecting our dead to serve you. What? Ran out of worshippers to throw at us? Or are you so pathetic that you need to overwhelm us with sheer numbers because you can't come up with a decent strategy to defend yourself?"
Grima paused and glared at Robin for that. "You think I don't know what you are doing?"
Robin shrugged, "what exactly am I doing?"
"Trying to distract me, keep me from realizing that your friends are cutting through my Risen, making their way here. Sadly, your plan will not work, they are surrounded and getting tired." Grima grinned at that, "I will spare you, and them. Only because I want you to watch as my hands, your hands, slit their throats one by one."
"We both know that your army is too stupid and brutish to take them alive, and my friends can function without me, you see, we have plans for occasions like this."
"You have a plan for fighting on the back of a giant dragon, intent on destroying all of you pathetic humans?" Grima asked.
"Of course, we are the Shepherds, unorthodox plans are our specialty. Though to be honest, I didn't expect it to be this easy. You just keep sending Risen at them in waves, no real strategy or tactics. We can keep this up for days, getting strong as you waste your power. Seriously, the undead make pathetic soldiers. Fitting for a pathetic monster like you, how many times has humanity beaten you?"
That had the desired effect. Grima, now glowing with his dark aura, raised his hand up. His dragon from head turned on its long neck and looked at its back, looked at Robin.
"Pathetic, am I? Let's see who is more Pathetic when I turn you into a pile of ash using a small fraction of my power!"
Grima, both the man and the dragon, called forth an evil magic, hurling it at Robin. The Fell Dragon expected the tactician to dodge but he stood his ground, a fool until the end.
Grima started to turn away from his foe but stopped, something felt off.
Turning back, he saw Robin, standing, holding the fell magic in his own hands. Robin knew he had one shot at this, he was certain he couldn't hold the magic again.
Using his Thoron Tome, Robin sent his evil self flying towards the dragon head, destroying the human form and the skull surrounding Grima's true face.
With one last look at his friends, his family, he hurled the Fell Magic at Grima, destroying them both in a flash of light.
The corpse that was once the Fell Dragon Grima fell back towards the ground from which its bones rose. The Shepherds, being saved by the magic of Naga, began a search of the corpse and the surrounding area. They could not find their friend, their savior, Robin amongst the destruction.
Chrom, the crowned prince of Ylisse, now its Exalt, swore to search for his friend, even if it took him forever. The others agreed, but insisted that Chrom return to the capital while they searched in his stead.
Chrom, worried for his friend, prays to Naga for his safe return.