I quickly redirected the front. The knights and Dead could hold the pygmies. All the archers and sorcerers were to take aim at the Beast. My wife had inherited the strength of the God-Eating Serpent, but the Lord had already bested it as mere Tarnished. A serpent never dies, but each time the Frenzied Flame tore across her scales, they grew back a little slower. I could not imagine the pain.
Our son could not bear to see it. His cousins the lesser serpents had gathered around him and cast him into the air with a burst of flame. He landed atop his mother's shoulder and drew the ancient swordspear meant to slay her kind. It roared with the light and wind of Farum Azula in response to the Great Serpent.
Only, he turned it from its purpose. When the tongues of Flame fell, he cast them away with a blade of wind.
The archdragon had sat at the rear, guiding the sorcerers. Now she unleashed her lunar breath. Her students cast their comets into it, and the combined blast sent the Beast reeling. With a final shout, my wife swung her father's sword. She hacked the monster's left hand from its body and swallowed it whole.
The Beast swayed and shrieked as it began to collapse back into the kiln. This broke the pygmies. Seeing now they had no chance, they routed and scurried back into the holes where they had hidden while the world burned.
It seemed everything stilled. Some still chased down the stragglers, but the battle was over. Why had we not heard from the assassins or the Gloam-Eyed Queen?