You have all probably noticed the name of this chapter. Thus, I would like to say before starting; some of you will probably expect this, whilst some of you may find it a bit surprising.
Either way, I hope you enjoy!
Just uttering the name alone caused Astrid and the others to turn their eyes to the east, where their newly arrived friend hovered in the skies.
As Arn looked down upon the battlefield from atop his gryphon, the enemy and the allied defenders turned their gazes onto him; including Drago. The blonde lad could not believe the view before him. The Dark Legions' armies flooded nearly every corner of the valley, and the sight of his friends surrounded only showed how desperate the situation was.
The dark vikings who stood by Drago chuckled and scoffed at this. To them, a single warrior and a gryphon barely made a difference, yet the warlord himself was not laughing. Instead, there was a glare about his face, for he knew the Alsworn heir was not alone.
In that moment, three distant roars filled the air, thus the dark vikings ceased their laughter. What they saw were a trio of large dragons emerge from the clouds behind Arn, each of whom were thrice as large as a Monstrous Nightmare. They flew to the lad's side, and began circling around him as if they were eagles guarding a nest. Then, from atop the hill, four men, along with an elf, a dwarf, and a tall votun came into view. They stood shoulder-to-shoulder with weapons in-hand, though their appearances could not be made out from the distance they stood at.
However, Hiccup needed no close-ups, for he already knew who they were.
Gobber, Eret, Alvin, Dagur, Morgrim, Lornduil, and Ragnar silently exchanged looks with one another, before turning their heads to gaze up at Arn, as well as the Three Guardians who encircled him; Infernus, Glacien, and Voltraxion.
They nodded at the lad in unison, and with that, the Alsworn heir lifted his sword high into the air, and raised his voice...
"ALLIANCE OF MIDGARD! COME FORWARD!"
Suddenly, the sounds of dozens of horns, both deep and light, echoed through the air. From behind the hill, armies of vikings, light elves, dwarves, and votun came forth. Their colorful banners blew in the wind as rays of seeping sunlight fell upon their figures, and like so, they formed a line by the hundreds. Simultaneously, the Three Guardians shifted into position alongside Arn, and then, they each let out a bellowing roar.
In response, the skies themselves roared back, and like so, hundreds of dragons appeared at their side with riders atop their saddled backs; three hundred Berkian, and two hundred Aesilgardian. Among the great winged host were also three familiar dragons, namely Grump, Sleuther, and Skullcrusher, though without a rider.
Altogether, the Berkians, Outcasts, Berserkers, Alsworn, Lightwoodians, Khaz'arduli, and Dragonskarn amounted to over twenty seven thousand men.
"Holy Odin... Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!" cheered Tuffnut.
As the armies of the Dark Legions turned their gazes upon the Alliance of Midgard, Hiccup and the riders could not help but grin in relief. What seemed like a hopeless situation now became opposite. Hope had returned to them, and with it, a chance for victory.
Infernus, the fire guardian, glanced at Arn. "It is time."
The lad gave a nod, pulling on Talon's saddle as he raised his sword towards the enemy. "ALLIANCE! TO VICTORY!"
The vikings, elves, dwarves, and votun roared out in unison, holding aloft their weapons as they charged forward, with the chieftains and kings at the very front of it all.
"TO THE CHIEFTAIN OF BERK!" yelled Gobber.
Drago watched as the Alliance of Midgard swarmed down the hill by the thousands, accompanied by hundreds of dragons flying above them. His guard of dark vikings stared back at the warlord with widened eyes, and without a word, he pointed his bullhook forward, signaling the counter-charge.
The dark viking captain nodded and quickly brought the battle-horn to his lips, before sounding it with its deep, bellowing boom.
With that, the Dark Legions roared out in fury, and commenced their charge towards the Alliance, disregarding the defense of Dalgard. At the same time however, their forces once again began pouring out from the portals along the cliffs, and thus, more orcs, goblins, and dark vikings came forth.
As the two sides ran at each other, Hiccup turned his head to all those who stood beside him. "Who among you still have the will to fight!?"
The vikings, elves, dwarves, and dragons cheered in unison, rejoicing.
"AYE! LET'S SHOW THOSE BUGGERS HOW TAE FIGHT!" screamed Beldrak.
"THEN COME WITH ME!" shouted Hiccup. "WE'LL DRIVE THEM BACK THROUGH THEIR PORTALS AND-"
There was a pause. Before he could finish, a loud horn sounded from deep within Khaz'dalgard, causing the lad and his allies to turn back towards the gates. In that moment, the great stone doors of the city began to open, grinding and booming like thunder, and on the other side, thousands of voices rose up in unison; the voices of dwarves.
As soon as the gates came to a stop, an army of angry dwarves came flooding out of the mountain by the hundreds. Most came by foot, swinging their axes, hammers, spears, and shields in the air like maddened drunkards. Others came by mount, riding atop armored rams with long lances and large bulwarks in their hands.
...And then, there was the one who led it all.
"FER KHAZ'DALGAAARD!"
At the front of the entire dwarven army was King Kharinz, wielding his axe and hammer, glowing with golden runes. Beneath the daylight, Hiccup and the others could see the gray of his hair and beard, and the warm color of skin. Almost immediately, something told them that the elven healers had successfully done their work.
Beldrak lifted his great axe. "THE KING HAS RETURNED! EVERYONE, LET'S GIVE THE ENEMY A GOOD HAMMERIN'!"
Hiccup turned his head back towards the enemy, whose attention was now split between the newly arrived dwarves and the Alliance of Midgard.
"YOU HEARD HIM!" shouted Hiccup. "CHARGE!"
The vikings, elves, and dwarves that stood with Hiccup gave no hesitation. They began rushing towards the oncoming enemy with all haste, with Kharinz and the throng of Dalgard following right behind them.
Moving fast, Hiccup, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, Heather, the Twins, and the captains raised their weapons in unity as the dragons lit their mouths with flames, their eyes fixated on the enemy's own. Yet as they closed in, something from the west suddenly caught their eyes. For a moment, it appeared as if a great flock of birds had appeared in the skies.
And yet, they were not birds...
From the woods atop the western hill, hundreds of arrows came raining down upon the enemy, striking with great force as several hundred orcs, goblins, and dark vikings fell to the ground like flies. Then, there came a loud, high-pitched horn, followed by a familiar voice.
"THÈRIA, LIGHT ELVES! FOR NORDELL AND THE ALLIANCE!"
Out of the trees, King Elendar, carrying his glowing elvish blade, rode forth from atop a white stag, with the Silver Host of Nordell moving onwards behind him. Their silver-colored armor shimmered from the sunlight, and their sapphire-blue cloaks blew heroically in the wind. Once again, the Dark Legions had a new threat to deal with.
Hiccup gave a grin, raising the hilt of Inferno above his left shoulder as he let out a, "HRAAAGH!", quickening his pace.
...And in a matter of seconds, all sides clashed.
In the east, the Alliance slammed deep into the Dark Legions' forces. As thousands of vikings raised their shields in unison and brought their weapons down upon the foe, the dwarves of Khaz'ardul came forward with hundreds of hand-cannons, and suddenly fired them into the enemy's forces with a resounding boom. Simultaneously, the elves of Lightwood let loose large volleys of arrows, shooting over the heads of their allies, whilst the votun charged heavily into the Legions' lines, swinging around their gigantic weapons as they sent groups of orcs, goblins, and dark vikings hurling; so much so, it was almost like sport to them.
Already, thousands of the enemy had been wiped out, and yet, it was only the beginning.
From the flanks, hundreds of Alsworn horsemen, along with Lightwood stags and Khaz'ardul ram riders, rode forth, pummelling through scores of Legion warriors. Then, from atop the slopes of the eastern hill, a dozen light elven mages, along with six Berkian sorcerers, began launching spells of fire, ice, and storm towards the enemy, as if they were throwing rocks and stones into a great lake.
With the situation becoming more dire for the Dark Legions, they did not hesitate and quickly sounded the horn for their support. From their ranks, the armored trolls and giants violently marched forth, slamming their weapons into the ground as they roared maniacally like wild beasts. But in that moment, a loud voice suddenly rose up from the Alliance's ranks, directed towards the votun...
"WARRIORS OF VOTUNHEIM!" shouted Ragnar, as he picked up an orc and threw it aside. "SHOW THE ENEMY WHAT WE DO BEST! TAKE DOWN THOSE MONSTERS!"
With that, the votun turned their eyes onto the trolls and jötnar, and immediately charged towards them with rampant speed, their weapons and shields raised in the air. Upon closing in, the monster-hunters instinctively threw themselves against their prey, climbing atop the large beasts as they began jabbing and slamming their weapons against them. At the same instant however, some of the votun attacked from afar, hurling axes, spears, and arrows at the armored monsters with deadly accuracy.
"GRAAAGH! GET OFF ME, STUPID BIG VIKINGS!" shouted one of the giants, confusing the votun as oversized vikings.
...As the main battle continued in the east, the Dark Legions' dragons all the while clashed with the riders of Berk and Aesilgard above the valley, with the Three Guardians at the head of the attack.
Though the Alliance's dragons greatly outnumbered the Legions' winged beasts, their larger statures, along with their bloodthirsty rage, made it a challenge. The blackened wings fought with all they could muster, lashing out violently as they breathed great streams of chaos fire upon their enemy. So intense was the battle, that hundreds of colorful explosions erupted across the skies, accompanied by the sounds of draconic roars and clashing claws that filled the air. The moment was truly desperate.
Were it not for the Three Guardians however, the fight would have been a near loss.
The three mighty dragons, with their even greater size and powerful attacks, began wiping out the Dark Legions' drakes. As Infernus unleashed large torrents of fire upon the black beasts, Voltraxion breathed down mighty beams of purple lightning, as if he were a Skrill, whilst Glacien let loose dozens of icy spikes from her tail and spine, as if she were a Deadly Nadder. The wrath they brought forth was unchallengeable, and the power of their elements was without equal.
...And then, there was the fight in the west.
As the forces of Nordell and Khaz'dalgard merged with one another, along with the remnants of the vanguard, the pressure against the enemy suddenly escalated. Before the orcs, goblins, or dark vikings could form a proper front, the elves and dwarves suddenly swarmed in from all around, by foot and by mount, and began to scatter them. Simultaneously, elven mages from atop the western hill hurled spells onto them, making room for their allies to continue pushing.
Near the center of the fight, the main group group led the charge. With their combined strength, they crashed through the Dark Legion's forces like a ram galloping across fields of wheat and grass, and with the powerful magics of the Wings of Midgard, their efforts were made all the more easier.
But in the midst of the chaos, Hiccup and Toothless found themselves separated from their friends, for they were too fixated on the battle that now surrounded them. Whilst the young viking sliced through the enemy with his fiery sword and unleashed one element after another, Toothless continued firing flurries of plasma blasts like a repeating crossbow; barrage after barrage. Together, the two of them were a force to be reckoned with, yet they were so caught up in the fight, that in the moment, they nearly mistook an elf and a dwarf for a mere goblin and dark viking.
However, the figures that stood before them were no ordinary elf or dwarf, but rather Kharinz and Elendar themselves...
Hiccup, who was about to blast the two kings with ice, came to a sudden stop upon meeting their gazes, and grinned as the magic faded from his eyes and hand.
"There's a sight for sore eyes," he sighed with a light chuckle. "You're a bit late, you know!"
"Good to see you as well, young Hiccup!" replied Elendar. "And I can see that the healers have managed to rejuvenate Kharinz."
"Aye! Yer healers did a dang' fine werk, old friend!" said Kharinz, spinning his axe and hammer as if they were toys. "I can't thank ye enough!"
"I guess a breath of fresh air was all you needed!" added Hiccup. "By the way, are the other thanes with you? Beldrak might want to-"
Immediately Kharinz gestured over his shoulder, and as the lad looked past the dwarf, he saw three figures fighting from afar.
The dwarves in the distance were each cladded in plate and scalemail, with trims of gold outlining their gear, cloaks colored in maroon and royal blue, and white runes glowing from their weapons and armor. The first one rode atop a ram, carrying a long spear that struck hard against the enemy's ranks. The second was hooded, wielding a bright hammer and a glowing runestone, from which they casted forth runic spells in the forms of ice and fire. The third was completely equipped, armed to the teeth with a flame-thrower, a crossbow, and explosive satchels that blew upon impact.
"What a bunch of show-offs," warbled Toothless.
"It's been a while since I've seen 'em in action!" grinned Kharinz. "Though I must say, were it not fer Arn and yer southern friends, this wouldn't be possible! We have a chance tae claim victory!"
"No," said Hiccup. "...Not while their warlord still stands."
"Bludvist?" asked Elendar. "You mean you-"
"It's time to cut the head of the beast," replied the lad glaringly, his eyes staring intensely at the ruins where Drago and his guards stood. "The Wings of Midgard and I will take him out."
"Are you certain about this?" questioned the light elf. "You don't know what he could do to you. And besides, there's only six of-"
Hiccup raised a hand. "I am done running from him. He killed my father on the Island of Tomorrow. And now, it's his turn."
Immediately, the young viking turned his attention to Toothless, and proceeded to hop atop his saddle. Looking back down at the two kings, he gave them an assuring nod. "I will return. I promise."
"If ye say so," said Kharinz. "But at least wait fer yer friends first!"
Hiccup raised a brow. "Hold on- Where exactly are they a-?"
"Wait, Hiccup!"
Like a fly in the wind, the voice of Astrid suddenly caught their ears, and as the four of them looked off into the east, they saw the lass, along with the other riders and dragons, running towards them with all of their haste. Upon approaching, the group came to an immediate halt.
"You weren't going to fight Drago without us, were you, H?" asked Tuffnut.
"...No?" responded the lad.
"Well, nevermind that," said Snotlout, already mounted atop Hookfang. "We should finish what we started, and put an end to Drago..."
"I'm ready to give him what he deserves," spoke Astrid.
Heather gave a nod. "I'm ready as well. Just say the word, and-"
"No," spoke Fishlegs, and without hesitation. With that, all eyes suddenly fell upon the large lad, especially Heather's, and for a moment, time seemingly slowed down.
"Not you, Heather," said the Ingerman. "This time, you must stay out of it."
"...What?" she asked. "So now... this time you want me to stay behind!? Fishlegs, out of all the people in Midgard, why are you saying no to-"
"He's right," interrupted Hiccup. "This is a fight you cannot handle."
"How...? Why...?" questioned Heather.
"Because," answered Fishlegs.
Her brows lowered slightly. "Because what?"
"Heather, do you not remember what Hiccup told you back in Nordell!?" asked Fishlegs. "What we've been through thus far? The last time we faced Drago, he summoned an entire army, murdered hundreds of Berkians, and killed Stoick in the snap of a finger! If you follow us up there, he'll kill you too, and I can't risk losing you! I care for you as much as Hiccup cares for Astrid; don't you see? If I lose you, I'll never be able to live the same way again..."
There came a pause. Heather stood there, silent and wordless, and as she arched her brows and narrowed her eyes downwards, realizing that his reaction made sense to her now, Fishlegs calmly approached her, and placed a hand atop her right shoulder. With the other, he placed his fingers under her chin, and brought her gaze up to meet his. In that moment, their eyes locked, and to that, the lass slowly but surely began nodding her head.
"I- I understand..." she said. "In that case, I'd better go help out Dagur... He's probably wondering where I am."
"Well, he is your brother, after all," smirked Astrid.
With a light sigh, Heather turned her head to Windshear, and quickly climbed atop her dragon's back. With one last glance, she uttered to the group, "May the gods be with you," before giving the razorwhip a light kick. And thus, the two of them flew off.
"...It's about time we get going," said Hiccup, eyeing the others. "Though I must warn you all; not even our dragons can get involved in this battle... My father told me this in the vision last night, and I trust his word. Besides, he understands much more than what any of us do, and I doubt even a hundred dragons could stop Drago. This fight is for us, and us alone. Do you understand?"
Although the vikings did not want to turn their dragons away, as they had just done with Heather, they too, like Hiccup, understood what was at stake. One wrong move would mean a death sentence for their winged friends, and even the dragons themselves knew this, despite the fact that they did not want to abandon their riders. However, there was simply no other choice.
With hesitance, the vikings nodded, and the dragons readied their wings. To that, Hiccup nodded back.
"Mount up, Wings of Midgard!" he announced.
The young vikings gave no response to their chieftain, and without further delay, they quickly mounted up and began their ascension upwards; their dragons flying towards the ruins above the cliffs one by one, with Hiccup and Toothless at the head of the flight.
"...Odin be with ye, lads and lasses," muttered Kharinz.
...
Though the short flight to the top was mostly silent, it nonetheless felt dreadful to the young warriors, and brought about an eerie sense. For the first time since the Island of Tomorrow, they were about to face off against Drago once more; the monster who brought devastation to their tribe. At the same time however, they knew not if the balance was in his favor, or theirs, for in this moment, only Odin and the Nornir knew what awaited, and as Hiccup and the others finally reached their destination, they immediately spotted a dozen figures staring up at them.
More specifically, Drago's elite guard of dark vikings.
Though their black plating covered every bit of them, the bright glow in their green, chaotic eyes was still enough to express their glares.
As the six vikings and their dragons came to a stop above the damned warriors, they all began yelling out taunts and offenses, all in an attempt to force them to the ground. Some of them even conjured up chaos magic, as if threatening to shoot up at them.
"COME ON THEN, SPINELESS WINGS!" one of them shouted. "WHAT ARE YE AFRAID OF!?
"JUMP DOWN AND FIGHT US, SOUTHERN COWARDS!" growled another.
The captain let out a cackling laugh. "Hah! So, these are the legendary Wings of Midgard!? Ye are smaller than I imagined, fleshlings! Pathetic! Come down here, so I may crush ye into pieces!"
"...I think it's time we shut them up," said Hiccup, he eyes now glowing purple with lightning. "You think you guys can help me make a stormy boom?"
In an instant, the imagery filled the young vikings' minds, and in unison, their eyes and hands began crackling with stormy magic. To that, the six of them gazed back down at the dark vikings, and together, they proceeded to jump from their dragons. As they fell, they raised their arms into the air and tightened their hands into fists, and upon landing, they struck the ruined ground with a heavy punch.
Together, the Wings of Midgard let loose an explosion of stormy magic, throwing the dark vikings back in a display of power. Only a few had the misfortune to be sent flying off the cliffs, yet it was the captain himself who took the brunt of the blast.
"AAARGH!"
In an instant, he was permanently silenced, just like the rest of his warriors. As the eruption of magic settled down, bolts of purple lightning lightly crackled across the ruins' grounds, all whilst the captain laid on his front, smoldering and lifeless.
Hiccup's eyes glanced back at Toothless, who flew above them. "Go help the others! I promise you, bud; I will return!"
The Night Fury nodded, albeit with slight hesitation, though he wasted no time as he roared a command at the other dragons. And with that, the winged reptiles began following their alpha's lead, making their way back down towards the chaotic battle.
Silence filled the ruins. For a moment, Hiccup's eyes fell upon the cladded corpse of the dark viking captain, and as he approached the damned warrior to inspect him, Astrid's voice suddenly caught his attention.
"Wait," she said, her eyes glancing around the ruins. "Is Drago-?"
Almost immediately, Hiccup turned around and stared back at the decayed surroundings. For a moment, he thought that Astrid had caught eye of Drago... but lo and behold, the ruins were empty. All the lad saw were shattered arches, broken statues, and the rubbled remains of stone bricks. To that, confusion filled his eyes.
"...Where is he?" asked Snotlout. "He- he's supposed to be here, isn't he?"
"Maybe he chickened out," chuckled Ruffnut. "Just like with every bad guy we've faced before."
"Really?" asked Tuffnut. "I mean- I'm sure there were a few times where we were the ones who ended up running, ya know?"
Ruffnut rolled her lips. "Eh, it's whatever. I mean, there was this one time-"
"Guys, not now," said Astrid, both hands on her axe. "...Hiccup, something tells me that he might have fled. Unless Drago somehow knew this was going to happen, we-"
The lad shook his head. "That's unlikely. Drago was never one to surrender. Remember, even when Toothless gained the upper-hand against his Bewilderbeast a year ago, he still refused to give up. The true question is, what is his motive here?"
"Uhm... Hiccup?" spoke Fishlegs, his hands pointing towards the ground in the center of the ruins. "You might want to look at this. I think Drago's done something..."
The vikings immediately followed the direction of the Ingerman's hand, and as they caught sight of the attraction, their faces expressed sudden bewilderment. In the middle of the ruins laid a large circle of symbols and runic letters, glowing wickedly with chaos energy. They were seemingly engraved into the very stone of the sanctum itself, yet as Hiccup and the others continued staring it down, they began to feel an uncomfortable presence take hold. Something was wrong, for they quickly realized that the circle had a strange, unnatural aura to it; one so outlandish and evil, it was unlike anything that they had ever felt before. It was as if an invisible dark power now had its eyes gazed upon them.
"...How did we not notice this until now?" asked Tuffnut.
"I don't know about you, but it feels... wrong," said Snotlout. "It feels very wrong."
"Wh- What in Thor's name is that?" questioned Astrid.
"It looks to be... a circle of runes," said Fishlegs. "Though judging by the way it's positioned, it seems like someone is supposed to stand in the center. Perhaps it's meant to empower some kind of spell. A circle of... conjuration, maybe?"
Hiccup arched a curious brow. "Do you mean something like... summoning?"
The Ingerman nodded. "It could be anything, really. A spell. An object. A powerful artifact... Even an entity."
"Hahaha. Clever fools."
The voice of Drago echoed through the air, causing the young vikings to tighten the grip on their weapons. For Hiccup however, hearing the warlord laugh in his ears made his blood boil with anger. The monster who took his father from him was so close, and he could nearly taste it...
"WHERE ARE YOU, DRAGO!?" roared Hiccup.
"Here."
Near the other end of the ruins, opposite from the cliffs, a green pillar of chaos fire bursted upwards from the ground like a volcanic fissure, and from it, Drago Bludvist stepped forth. Yet upon making himself known, the vikings immediately noticed that something had changed... The warlord's green glowing eyes now blazed with chaos magic. Every vein across his chest and arms flared with energy, and in place of his bullhook, he now wielded a great axe of blackened steel and obsidian, burning and crackling with chaotic fire and lightning.
"...There you are," growled Hiccup.
"And so we meet again, Wings of Midgard," chuckled Drago, his voice distorted. "I must admit, it has been a while. For these past two months I have been pondering how I would kill you, and now, it has led to this."
Astrid gritted her teeth. "We won't repeat the same mistake."
"Uhh... What in the name of Midgard happened to his voice?" asked Ruffnut. "Did a frog get stuck in his-"
"Quiet, Ruffnut!" interrupted Snotlout.
The warlord grinned. "Hahaha... It seems none of you have changed since that 'disaster' on the Island of Tomorrow. Tell me, do you even remember your defeat? How your tribe ran for the blackened hills as they all burned, just like Stoick the Vast when he challenged me to a-? Oh, I never explained, did I? The death of your pathetic chieftain? He came before me, expecting a proper fight, and I took his neck and poured chaos fire into him... before he exploded into ashes! Hahaha!"
No one was angrier than Hiccup in that moment. The lad never knew the specifics as to how his father died that day, yet hearing it all come out from Drago enraged him. It was as if a firestorm was on the verge of breaking out.
As Drago continued laughing, Astrid stepped forward. Without hesitation, she raised her palm, summoning up flames, and with a grunt, she hurled forth a ball of fire that struck the ground besides the warlord, ceasing his laughter as it bursted upon impact.
"You have a lot of nerve saying that," snarled Astrid with her brows lowered. "Have you forgotten what is happening down below? Our alliance is ROUTING your army, yet you believe you have the better of this battle!? You've lost!"
Drago merely shook his head. "Actually, it is you who has already lost," he said, pointing his axe towards the runic circle in the center of the ruins. "If you haven't noticed by now, the circle of conjuration has been empowered. It is only a matter of time before the final ritual begins."
The final ritual. Hiccup and the others had heard that name before back in Nordell. It was mentioned by the orc Golrok, just before Elendar had executed him, and when the warlock first told them of the ritual, his words were vague. However, he also implied that it would bring about the end of Midgard, thus, they knew now that this was their only chance to find out.
"...What is this final ritual?" asked Hiccup. "Your former right hand told us about it right before his execution, but he was unclear about it. Is it supposed to be a spell of- destruction? An incantation to summon all of the Dark Legions?"
The dark warlord chuckled. "You really have no clue, do you? Stupid boy..."
There came a brief pause. As Drago's burning eyes took a glimpse at each of the young vikings, he began to make his way forward.
"Assuming you already know, there is a colossal font of ancient magic far below these ruins, deep within the earth. A leyline, as it is called," he said, before stopping in the center of the circle of conjuration. "With these energies, I will have enough power to open a gateway that will usher forth his return, and thus, he will break out of the prison that Odin bound him to long ago... Do you understand now what I am saying? The purpose of the final ritual is not to summon some random spell or army..."
"...It is to summon the Dark Master."
The group was quite stunned, yet it all made sense to them now. By keeping them and their allies distracted, Drago had gathered enough power from the leyline for the final ritual, and thus, he was prepared to begin summoning the Dark Master back into Midgard. That was the true purpose of the entire battle.
"You're mad!" bellowed Hiccup. "Maldragor will have this cliffside wiped out the moment he steps through!"
"Even better!" cackled Drago. "By then, you will all be dead, and the name 'Wings of Midgard' will become nothing but a memory! Maldragor will destroy you all!"
"Not if I have anything to say about it," said Hiccup, summoning up an explosive bolt of fire as he lunged it towards Drago, its bright, orange flare speeding through the air. To that, the warlord quickly raised his hand, and conjured up a barrier of chaos energy, blocking the spell.
The lad looked over his shoulders. "Forget your weapons, guys. This is going to be a fight with magic..."
Drago's eyes glowed more intensely. "So be it... Come! Face your end, Wings of Midgard!"
At that very moment, the six vikings made the first move. In a simultaneous motion, the group let loose magical beams of fire, ice, and lightning at Drago, and to that, the warlord quickly responded with a powerful stream of chaos energy, which collided with their spells in a mighty impact, causing the earth to shake.
To the utter surprise of Hiccup and the others, their magics were stronger than they anticipated; much stronger. Hiccup and Tuffnut's fiery streams erupted with hurling fireballs. Astrid and Ruffnut's rivers of ice pummelled out hail that was harder than rock. And Snotlout and Fishlegs's stormy beams crackled and thundered, unleashing lightning bolts that struck the ground around Drago with intense force. It became clear that the power of the leyline was affecting them.
Yet it also affected the warlord.
Drago glared angrily as he flicked his wrist, causing the beam of chaos magic to let loose green lightning upon the Wings of Midgard. The vikings respondedly backed away out of caution, but Hiccup refused to back. His hate for the man began spiraling out of control, and as such, his stream of fire increased in power. The warlord easily felt this.
"Think fast, fools!" yelled Drago as he immediately broke the spell-lock with a wave of his arm, cancelling out the beams of magic. With a mere gaze, he teleported forward in a flash of chaos lightning, before re-appearing right in front of Hiccup with his great axe raised above his head.
"LOOK OUT!" shouted Astrid.
In the near nick of time, Hiccup managed dodge the attack as Drago immediately the weapon brought down. As it struck the ground, chaos fire shot upwards in a violent burst, yet the force of the blow caused the vikings to nearly lose their footing.
In response to the sudden attack, Hiccup brought forth Inferno and attempted to strike Drago from the side. However, the warlord managed to easily dodged the strike as he teleported back with a flash, cackling heavily as he did.
Hiccup gritted his teeth, extending his open palm as he directed it at Drago. "GRAAAAGH!"
His roar made the air quake, as if he were a dragon, for it was then that his rage took control of him. He began launching a rapid barrage of fiery bolts that exploded violently upon impact, yet the warlord was able to simply counter this. With a mocking grin, he continuously teleported out of the way of the showering flames, which only further infuriated Hiccup to the point where his accuracy started lacking. The other vikings, all the while, merely stood there, staggered by the sight that laid before them, for they had never before seen their friend emit such anger.
"Hahaha!" laughed Drago heavily, and with one last teleport, he disappeared into the thin air, his cackles echoing across the ruins.
"GRR..." growled Hiccup, taking several steps back. "COWARD! MURDERER! MONSTER! YOU CAN'T HIDE FROM ME! DO YOU HEAR ME!? YOU CAN'T-"
"Hiccup! Stop it!"
Like a dagger cutting through the silence, Astrid's voice broke his sudden rant, and as the lad turned to face her and the others, his brows arched upon seeing their frightened expressions. Realizing the embarassing situation he had placed himself in, he allowed his anger to subside, and thus, the fiery magic in his eyes dissipated.
"Guys, I-"
"HERE IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TURN YOUR BACK!"
Drago's voice uttered from behind Hiccup, but before he could react, an explosion of chaos lightning suddenly erupted outwards, sending him and the others falling onto their fronts and backs. For a moment, they were dazed and stunned, yet as Hiccup spun his head, his eyes caught sight of the warlord, standing a mere few yards away...
...And his assault did not cease. Drago extended his fist forward, and with a flick and a twitch, chaos lightning began snapping across his palm and fingers. At that, the warlord raised his arm back, and with horrendous speed, he stormed towards Hiccup in a near flash. However, before he could land the punch, time suddenly came to a seeming slow for the lad. The viking closed his eyes, and quickly imagined responding to Drago with a taste of his own move; a fistful of stormy magic, enough to send him falling onto his back like a boulder launched from a catapult.
Not a moment later, Hiccup opened his eyes, his irises and hands now glowing purple with electricity. Without a word, the Wing of Midgard raised back his right fist, and instantaneously collided it with Drago's...
As if Thor himself had answered, a great burst of purple lightning lunged outwards as Hiccup's fist sent forth a powerful, cascading beam of stormy magic that threw back Drago, and as the warlord went hurling, he let out a scream.
"AAAARGH!"
As Drago landed atop his back, axe still in-hand, Hiccup turned his head to look back at the others, who stared on with shock and relief. Immediately, he gestured for them to stand.
"Chain him down while he's stunned!" he ordered.
Without hesitation, the young vikings stood to their feet and instantly conjured up their magics, before making their way over to surround Drago. Upon encircling him, they each began summoning up magical chains, and proceeded to bind them to his limbs and chest in an attempt to keep him down. For a moment, it appeared to be successful, for the warlord merely struggled against them, seemingly powerless to break through.
"Hah! We got 'em down!" said Ruffnut mockingly.
Tuffnut gave a satisfied chuckle. "Try breaking out of that one, loser."
Little did they know however, Drago was merely warming up.
All of a sudden, the chains that tugged at his hands, of which were conjured by Astrid and Snotlout, started to sear with chaos fire. At first, there were merely sparks, but before they knew it, the sparks quickly escalated into a fire, and soon enough, every single chain began to burn.
"Gh- Guys!?" called out Fishlegs. "What's going on!?"
"I don't know!" said Astrid with struggle. "I can't... seem to... hold it...!"
"It's not working!" growled Hiccup. "EVERYONE! GET BACK!"
The group dropped their magical chains without hesitation, and immediately began to back away towards the opposite side of the ruins, right besides the cliffs. With that, Drago let out a roar, breaking free from his bonds as if snapping a twig, before slowly standing to his feet.
"RAAAGH!"
The warlord casted an intense glare at the six vikings, huffing and puffing as his eyes gave off a flaring glow.
"You wretched nuisances!" he yelled angrily, with chaos magic flowing across his hands. "No more time for games!"
In an instant motion, Drago extended his arm outwards, his open palm directed towards the group, and with his scowling gaze, the warlord began to charge his magic, his intent to unleash a powerful chaotic beam. Simultaneously, the six vikings attempted to counteract, but in a matter of seconds, Drago let loose his raw power upon them.
Hiccup's mind went blank as the sight of green filled his vision. The lad was unsure how to react; with fire? Ice? Lightning? Around him, his friends covered their eyes and braced for impact, and yet for some reason, he did not. Instead, he stepped forward with his right arm raised outwards, as if his instincts had taken control, and as the stream of chaotic power closed in, his eyes suddenly began to glow a bright, vibrant blue.
And then it happened...
A resounding boom shook the ruins, causing the others to look up at Hiccup, and as they did, their jaws dropped.
Drago's spell was halted less than midway, for before their very eyes, the lad channeled forth a ray of arcane energy. It clashed violently with the warlord's chaos magic, letting out a warm, soothing hum that gave the vikings a sense of hope, and as such, they straightened their backs and conjured up their magics.
"So the leyline gave you the kick you needed..." growled Drago as he slowly started walking forward, closing the distance between him and the lad. "It matters not, though! It still powers me as well!"
Hiccup peered over his shoulder. "EVERYONE! HIT HIM WITH EVERYTHING YOU'VE GOT!"
By his command, the Wings of Midgard began unleashing what powerful spells they could upon Drago. As Astrid called down icy hail from the somewhat cloudy sky above, Ruffnut and Tuffnut cracked the ground around the warlord, letting loose fiery fissures that erupted with lava and fiery rocks, whilst Snotlout and Fishlegs projected strong lightning bolts at his arms and legs, attempting to slow him down.
To their surprise however, their efforts were only half effective. Drago continued forward at a slow pace, seemingly disregarding their combined assault, and soon enough, he started to close in.
"Hiccup...!?" called out Astrid.
The young chieftain found himself struggling against the warlord's power, and as the two beams of arcane and chaos encroached on one another, both Hiccup and Drago raised their weapons in unison, and struck...
...
Arn let out a roar as he and his gryphon, Talon, fought through ranks of orcs and other brutes.
The battle had seemingly taken a toll for the worse for Drago's army. As of then, the Alliance of Midgard and its allies had managed to form a long, impenetrable wall in front of every portal that the Dark Legions' troops poured through. With the strength of melee, as well as the skill of archery, the power of magic, and the breath of dragons, every orc, goblin, and dark viking that came through was caught in the grasp of an unwinnable fight, and without the support of their monsters, it was impossible to handle.
The Alsworn heir however was on a rampage atop his feathery friend. Whenever the gryphon flew low, Arn struck wildly with Runefang, guiding his sword over his shoulders as if he were cutting through meadows of grass. But when they soared upwards, Talon took hold of three or four Legion warriors, and proceeded to drop them upon reaching a high enough altitude, sending them to their deaths.
Together, they were a meat-grinder.
"Their numbers are thinning!" shouted Arn with hope in his voice. "They're almost spent! Keep at it, Alliance-!"
Yet his words stopped short as the earth and air suddenly shook. From the corner of his eyes, the blonde lad saw an explosion of magic erupt from the ruins; a blast of arcane and chaotic power, with their blue and green lights brightening his vision like an aurora in the night sky. Unlike an aurora however, the sight of it gave him no glee, but rather a sense of worry for his friends.
Gazing at the cliffs beneath the ruins, Arn noticed a long set of stairs leading up to them, and thus, an idea immediately formed. Granted, it was foolish.
"Talon," said Arn, turning his eyes to his gryphon. "Fly me half-way up those stairs. I have a feeling that Hiccup and the others are in trouble."
The armored bird gave a questioning squawk, but his rider responded with a shake of his head.
"Just do it," he said. "Once I've landed, I'll make the journey to the ruins alone. You're needed here."
...
As the dust from the explosion died down, the vikings lowered their arms and gazed back at where Drago stood, and to their utter shock, Hiccup's spell had done little to him. The warlord, who knelt down in recovery, had a few burn marks on the right side of his body; yet that was it. It was if it had no effect.
The young chieftain, who was now on his knees, breathed heavily in exhaustion. It was apparent that the arcane spell took much out of him, but as he gathered his breath, he noticed something from out of the corner of his eyes, lying on the ground; his blade Inferno.
More specifically, the shattered remains of it.
"Not again..." he grunted breathily.
As Drago stood up to his feet, he glared down the Wings of Midgard with a snarl, and once again, raised his hand outwards.
"You're wasting my time..." said the warlord. "KNEEL."
In that moment, a strange spell took hold of the group, and with that, they were all forced down to their hands and knees. Though they could move their arms, it felt as if their legs were pinned down by rocks and boulders, and as such, they could barely move.
"Grr!" growled Astrid. "This can't... be..."
"Save it, Astrid," spoke Fishlegs. "Unless we have a plan, there's no breaking out of this."
Drago chuckled. "You won't break out of it either way. As long as I stand, so does the enchantment. Now, if you would excuse me, I have some catching up to do..."
With a silent grin, the warlord began towards the middle of the ruins, where the circle of conjuration laid, brimming with power. Upon stationing himself into position, he took in a few deep breaths, and slowly let them out. At first, nothing seemed to happen. But it was then that Drago raised his hands high into the air, and as he did, large streams of chaos energy bursted upwards from the circle and flowed into his fingers like rivers. With that, the warlord directed his arms towards the edge of the cliffs, and with a roar, he unleashed a massive beam of power that shook the earth beneath them to its foundations. At the same time however, the spell released an explosion that hurled the remaining structures of the ruins off cliffs.
In a matter of seconds, the beam came to a stop, and as it did, it finally happened. At the edge of the ruins, a gigantic rift tore open, its edges burning with green fire as streams of raw chaos energy poured in and out of it. From what Hiccup and the others could make out, the portal itself was the size of a Bewilderbeast's head, and that alone was enough to send shivers of dread down their backs, for they knew that the Bewilderbeasts were among the largest of dragons that ever existed.
...Yet at the same time, the portal itself seemingly revealed nothing at first. All they saw was a black void, as if they were staring at a dark, empty night sky... At least, that was what they thought, for it was in that moment that an emerald, fiery light filled the rift, causing them to turn away as it briefly blinded their vision, near to the point of hurting their eyes. Upon dimming down however, the young vikings slowly lifted their heads and looked back.
And what they saw terrified them to their cores...
Beyond the veil was a gigantic, green, burning eye that rivaled the size of the rift itself. It blinked once as it took the moment to slowly glance around, but widened its gaze as it caught sight of the Wings of Midgard with its black, evil iris.
It was Maldragor's eye.
Drago let out a cackling laugh, spreading his arms outwards as he gazed back at the Dark Master. "HIS EYE! THE GREAT ONE LOOKS UPON ME WITH HIS EYE!"
Staring at the eye of Maldragor, Hiccup and the others nearly trembled. If merely looking upon his blackened iris was all it took to plant the seed of fear within them, then they did not want to know what his full, true form was like. The sight of it shook them so much, they found themselves unable to fight back, let alone cast a single spell. Yet it seemed that none were more terrified than Snotlout, for at one point, the Dark Master's eye was seemingly fixated on the young Jorgenson in particular. The dread in the lad's eyes escalated tenfold, with his gaze enlarged and his brows arched. Even the others seemed to notice his expression.
"Look away, Snotlout!" called out Hiccup, his voice frantic as he and the other barely managed to avert the eye themselves. "Don't look at him! Don't look into his eye!"
Thankfully enough, his words were all it took for the lad to finally snap out of his state of fear, and in an instant, he jerked his head away from Maldragor's eye, before narrowing his own down towards the ground, albeit still shocked.
With that, Drago turned his head to face the vikings, and grinned as he took a few steps forward, his left hand now glowing with immense power. "I must say, I find it rather unfortunate that only six of you came before me, whilst your seventh never awoke... Though then again, what difference will one make when the other six are dead? Like I said, your names will be nothing but-"
"HICCUP!"
The sound of a sudden voice caused the vikings to turn their heads to the left, towards the stairs of the ruins. In that moment, a blonde-headed figure rushed forward, cladded in the familiar set of scalemail, leather, fur, and azure clothing, with a runic sword in his right hand.
It was none other than Arn.
As the Alsworn heir charged towards Drago with Runefang in-hand, the warlord scoffed and simply rose his left hand, launching forth a wave of chaos energy that immediately forced the lad to the ground like the other vikings. Upon falling to his knees, he began struggling to stand back to his feet, but like his friends, he could not break the enchantment, no matter how hard he tried.
"Idiot," laughed Drago.
"Grr!" grunted Arn, his sword now on the ground besides him.
"Arn! What the Hel are you doing here!?" called out Hiccup. "You should've stayed back!"
"I came here to aid you!" replied the blonde lad. "Taking down Drago is as much my responsibility as it yours!"
"It's none of your business, dammit!" shouted Astrid, before gesturing towards the rift. "Look at what Drago has brought before us!"
Turning his head, Arn spun his gaze to face the gigantic gateway, and saw the great, green, burning eye that laid on the other side. A mere glance was all it took for him to shudder and shake as the utter feeling of intimidation gripped ahold of his very being. Using every fiber of his willpower however, the lad was able to resist through it enough just to mutter a single word, though barely.
"M- Maldragor...?"
Simultaneously, it was then that the sound of Drago's sudden laughter caught the group's ears, and as they turned their heads, they caught sight of the warlord cackling heavily and wickedly, though his gaze remained fixated solely on Arn.
He let out a sigh. "On the contrary, it is his business... You have arrived just in time, Arn Lotharsson of the Alsworn. At long last, it has all finally led to this very moment, just as how I had envisioned it. I can only imagine that you are rather confused as to what I mean..."
"...Wouldn't you say... Wing of Midgard?"
There was an immediate silence. Hiccup and his friends were speechless as they exchanged staggering glances between Arn and Drago, wanting to believe that what the warlord said was merely misinterpreted. However, it was clear that he meant what he said, and as the blonde viking opened his mouth to say something, no words came out. Instead, he simply knelt there on the ground, jaw-dropped and eye-widened, sweating anxiously as his heart began to race.
"You're mistaken..." he finally spoke. "I'm not a Wing of Midgard! I'm just the heir of a tribe! The old legends never said that any of them had resided in Valnr!"
"And yet one of them did," said Drago. "And they're the reason why your Alsworn Tribe exists today; why you exist, stupid boy."
Arn clenched his fists. "Stop lying to me, you deceiving murderer!"
The warlord gave a chuckle. "I may be a murderer, but I never lie, boy... However, if you really refuse to believe my words, then I guess I'll just kill you like so."
"Don't you dare touch him!" yelled Hiccup angrily, to which Drago turned his eyes to the lad and gave a glare, causing them to flare brightly as the enchantment that held him down suddenly intensified.
"Silence, pup," growled Drago, before spinning his attention back to Arn. "Now then, if you don't mind, I think I'll get this over with. I will make this as... painless, as possible."
"N- No!" gasped Arn, now struggling to stand. "NO!"
Dropping his axe, Drago ignited his hands in chaos fire and began to charge up his magic, his open palms directed towards the blonde lad. At the same time however, Hiccup attempted to react, despite being pinned down by the warlord's magic. With all of the willpower that the young chieftain could muster, he slowly began to lift his right arm and aim his hand at the lad, all while his heart pumped faster than the gallop of a horse. Clearing his mind, he started to focus, summoning up every fiber of his strength to conjure up his magic, yet as he did, the warlord was on the verge of completing his spell...
...And with that, Drago unleashed a gigantic, boulder-sized fireball towards Arn, and as it quickly closed the distance, arcane magic suddenly began flowing across Hiccup's hand, and like so, he attempted to conjure a magical shield around his friend.
But it was too late.
The chaotic spell struck Arn head-on, causing an explosion of green fire that made the ground quake with great ferocity and violence. The group braced themselves, averting their eyes from the impact. But as they looked back, all they saw was smoke.
"Hahaha!" cackled Drago.
"NOOO!" screamed Hiccup, his voice bellowing throughout the ruins. "DAMN YOU, DRAGO!"
"ARN!" yelled Astrid.
"YOU KILLED HIM!" roared Snotlout. "YOU BLOODY KILLED HIM!"
"H- Holy Odin..." mumbled Ruffnut.
The vikings were filled with anger and sorrow... Before their very eyes, one of their friends had been instantly struck down by Drago, as if a young flock of grass was set aflame and burned into ashes. To Hiccup however, it was unbelievable. First his father, and now his friend? He thought to himself; how many more leaders had to die for him until this war was over? What cost would it take him?
Silence fell upon the group. Their eyes and heads narrowed to face the ground, seemingly in mourning. Yet in the midst of the moment, something soon caught their attention...
A blue, vibrant light shined through the thickness of the smoke. At first, they were uncertain if they were merely hallucinating; if it were their minds playing a trick on their eyes. However, it soon became apparent that the light was more than real. It was no illusion, and as the cloud of dust quickly cleared up, the saddened expressions that the group had before were suddenly replaced with shock and bewilderment, for what they saw was an impossible sight.
Arn, with his hand covering his face, was surrounded by a shield of arcane energy, with its hum resonating warmly. The blonde lad's open palms glowed brilliantly with magic, and upon uncovering himself, he looked down at them and gasped, as if a frightening miracle had happened.
Drago smirked. "As predicted..."
"But... how?" spoke Arn, his voice stuttering as the arcane barrier dissipated.
"If you do not know, then let me tell you," began the warlord. "When a Wing of Midgard has not discovered their powers, and they come face-to-face with absolute death, the magic inside them awakens to prevent their demise. However, depending on where this happens also dictates the element that manifests, and since we stand atop a leyline, the power of arcane is at its strongest here..."
"...But I digress. Now you know who you truly are, Arn Lotharsson. A Wing of Midgard. And I must say, I would like to thank you for everything. By bringing your 'friends' into this war, and by guiding them here, you have played them right into my hands. In other words, none of this would have been possible were it not for you, and now that the Wings of Midgard are all gathered in one place, it is time to complete the final ritual, from which you will be the first to die..."
With a chuckle, Drago grabbed ahold of his axe and turned his back to the Wings of Midgard, before calmly making his way towards the circle of conjuration. "And I must say, compared to even your friends, you always were the naive one. Naive, stupid, and aggressive. No wonder your father died all those years ago, hahaha..."
Hearing those last mocking words struck at Arn's strings. Five years had this war against the Dark Legions raged on, and for three of those five years, a great burden laid atop his shoulders. His father, the only family he had ever known, suddenly left him for Odin's halls, leaving him as the still-to-be-chieftain of a tribe that he had trouble leading. However, to say that he was at fault for his death sparked a mix of emotions. Staring down at his hands glowing with arcane energy, he shuddered...
Hiccup, who seemed to notice this, expressed a distasting glare towards Drago. The sight of Arn having to reminisce about his father's death made the Berkian's heart sink; so much so, it reminded him of himself after his own had died, and to him, this was the final straw. No more would he allow the warlord to impose such mental suffering on anyone, let alone any kind of suffering.
At that, Hiccup pressed his palms into the ground beneath him, and began to focus. Knowing that Arn's magic was awake and active, a part of him knew that empowering it could perhaps give him the boost needed to break free of Drago's bonds, and as his fingers begun to glow, streams of arcane energy soon started flowing towards the blonde lad, albeit in small amounts. As soon as it reached him, Arn suddenly straightened his posture, as if a heavy weight had lifted from him.
A short pause followed. Slowly, the blonde lad turned his head to face the group, particularly towards Hiccup. As their faces met, the auburn-headed viking saw his eyes glowing brightly with arcane, but as of then, they were now filled with a determined expression. Not even a moment later, he quickly turned his head back to Drago, and placed both of his hands against the stone beneath him. Pressing his palms into the ground, the arcane energy that flowed along his fingers started to intensify, and with that, he gave a grunt, and began to stand to his feet, disregarding his sword.
At the sound of his steps, Drago suddenly turned around, and upon seeing the lad on his feet, he expressed a baffled look.
Arn slowly began his way forward. "You know... it's funny. You tell me that I am at fault for my father's death, yet who are you to say that when you weren't even around to see it? From what my friends told me, all you did before any of this was enslave dragons, conquer tribes, and hide like a coward in some frozen wasteland, waiting to strike."
The warlord gave a sigh. Without a word, he extended a hand towards Arn, and with a flick of his wrist, he launched forth a bolt of chaos fire. In response however, Arn raised his palm and immediately blocked the spell with an arcane barrier, to which it fizzled out.
"And when you did strike," he continued, still walking towards the warlord. "Your work went to waste. You won the battle at the mountain, yet you lost the war. Your Bewilderbeast swam off, and you were left to drown in the ocean. Considering what is happening right now, I don't see a difference."
Now filled with a sense of frustration, Drago once more attempted to strike Arn with another spell; this time, a bolt of chaos lightning. However, once again, the Wing of Midgard raised his hand and conjured forth an arcane shield, blocking it.
"I mean, would you really say that all is going according to plan?" asked Arn. "Ever since that 'victory' of yours on the Island of Tomorrow, your strategies have only resulted in defeat after defeat. Votunheim... Nordell... And now here at Dalgard. You and your master's ignorance have blinded you from reality, and it is for this reason that we will win, and keep on winning until the Dark Legions are stopped; until Maldragor breathes his last..."
Drago's brows lowered into a glare. "SHUT UP ALREADY!"
In a fit of rage, the warlord clenched his fingers it into a claw as he attempted to cast forth a lethal spell at Arn. But at the same time, the lad brought back his hand and tightened it into a fist, causing arcane magic to manifest brightly across his knuckles, and with a forward punch, a blast of energy hurled towards Drago, striking him in the side as it nearly sent him down on his back.
Drago looked on with utter surprise, yet before he could even respond with an attack, Arn once again let forth an arcane spell. This time, it came in the form of several bolts that struck at his right arm, causing him to drop his chaotic weapon of an axe.
From there, the warlord found himself slowly losing ground. Spell after spell of arcane energy came hurling at him, and he could not fight back. With every attack that struck him, jolts of pain and anger immediately came after, and this only further made him desperate. To that, Drago summoned up what power he could, as swiftly as he could, and amassed his chaos magic for a powerful spell.
"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR CHARADE!" he bellowed as he threw his arms forward, unleashing a gigantic stream of chaos energy towards Arn. As it closed in, the blonde lad quickly responded by clenching his hands into fists, gathering up what strength he could muster in that moment, before directing them outwards as he let loose a strong ray of arcane energy upon the warlord.
Yet as strong as he was, he could hardly hold back the warlock's magic. Thus, the green chaotic beam began to move towards him.
Meanwhile, Hiccup and others, who watched from the distance, felt the weight of Drago's spell lift from their shoulders. It had become apparent that through Arn's distraction, Drago had lost focus of his enchantment, and as such, the vikings were free to stand.
Hiccup tossed the others a glance. "Well what are we waiting for?"
Without hesitation, they stood to their feet, and immediately ran to assist Arn, who as of the moment, began struggling against Drago's beam of chaos magic, more so than Hiccup previously did, and as it came closer and closer, the warlord gave off a wicked grin, believing that he was about to be rid of the lad's nuisance.
But all of a sudden, he felt a fiery spell hit him from the side, followed by a beam of lightning, as well as shards of ice. As such, much of his concentration quickly faltered.
Arn looked over both his shoulders, and on his left and right, he saw Hiccup, Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the Twins standing there, their hands and eyes glowing with the power of the elements.
"Glad to see you here!" he said, half-grinningly. "Mind taking the lead, chief!?"
"Don't mind if I do..." replied Hiccup.
Raising a single hand forward, the young chieftain widened his eyes in focus, and started channeling his arcane energy alongside Arn. Adding his magic into the beam, Hiccup was able to rival the power of Drago's, so much so, he was able to take the reins, giving his friend a moment to readjust himself.
All the while, the other vikings finally took the opportunity to strike; this time, with both weapons and magic. Astrid, who put aside her axe, unsheathed her bow and let loose icy arrows towards Drago's arms. Snotlout, with his boiling anger, casted up a long, fiery whip, and began striking from afar. Fishlegs, with the strength of Thor, threw his lightning-lit hammer repeatedly at the warlord's chest, causing bolts of lightning to strike him numerous times.
The Twins, on the other hand, placed the nail in the coffin. With their spears glowing with fire and ice, they sneakingly ran behind Drago, snickering and giggling, and with a great thrust, they plummeted their weapons into his back.
"AAAGH!"
Unable to handle the pressure and pain, Drago lost complete control of his spell, and with that, the arcane beam finally clashed with the warlord, grasping around him like a claw of energy.
Hiccup looked back at Arn. "Take control!"
The blonde lad nodded, and once again began focusing his efforts into the conjuring the arcane beam, now with more relative ease. As such, Hiccup pulled out, and as Arn unleashed his arcane magic towards Drago, he slowly proceeded to lift him into the air, causing the warlord to struggle and grunt. At the sight of this, the other vikings gathered around, their eyes continuously gazing up at their defeated foe.
"M- MASTER!" shouted Drago. "I NEED MORE POWER! I NEED... MORE...!"
There came a short moment of anticipation, and within that blink of time... nothing. Maldragor did not grant him his wish. Instead, the chaos magic that flowed through Drago's veins and eyes suddenly drained out of him, and hurled itself towards the rift. At the same time, his left arm, which the Dark Master had granted him back, suddenly incinerated into blackened ashes, leaving nothing but the former stump in its place.
"WH- WHAT!? NO! YOU CAN'T- AAAAGH!"
An agonizing scream escaped Drago. Before he knew it, the arcane energies of the beam began pouring into his body, and as such, cracks of magic started forming across his arms, chest, legs, and face. In that moment, he realized that what he had done to Stoick was now happening to him.
Hiccup, with all of his anger and fury, clenched his hands into claws as he started to manifest it all into one, final, blazing spell. With every passing second, the fiery magic in his palms intensified ever so more, and as the ball of fire that now formed in front of him grew larger and larger, he looked into Drago's eyes and said calmly;
"This is for Berk..."
The lad then threw his arms forward, unleashing the gigantic fireball, and as it closed in, Drago gave his final scream.
"N- NO! GAAAAGH-!"
As the spell collided, a golden wave of fire exploded outwards above the ruins, yet neither the air nor the ground rumbled. In the wake of the event, only Drago's ashes remained, and as they blew off into the wind, the clouds finally gave way to the sun in the east, leaving a blue, cloudy sky standing above the Wings of Midgard. And to that, they grinned relievingly.
Drago Bludvist, the monster who took so much from them, was finally defeated...
As the ray of arcane energy dissipated from the warlord's fall, Arn lowered his hands, and with a flick of his wrists, the magic from his hands quickly vanished. "I guess that's one way to take care of things."
"It doesn't matter," said Hiccup, his voice resonating loudly among the group. "What's done is done. At long last, Drago has been defeated, and my father has been avenged. Victory is finally-!"
"Uh... Hiccup!" said Snotlout, his eyes gazing off in another direction. "We're not done yet!"
Pointing his finger into the direction beyond the cliffs, the vikings turned their heads and caught sight of the gateway still brimming with chaotic power, along with the Dark Master's eye, whose gaze was focused solely on them. However, despite the intimidating size of the eye, they surprisingly no longer felt the fear that it gave them before...
Exchanging brief gazes with one another, the Wings of Midgard immediately ran with haste towards the edge of the cliffs, before lining up in front of the great rift. Hiccup, who stood in the center, glanced over to his right, just past Astrid, and looked back at Arn.
"Are you ready?"
Arn nodded his head. Without another word, he and Hiccup extended their right hands forward, and let loose of streams of arcane power towards the center of the rift; albeit, Hiccup's was much stronger. To that, Astrid and Ruffnut followed up with icy beams, then Fishlegs with a ray of lightning, and finally, Snotlout and Tuffnut with rivery torrents of fire.
In unison, the elements of magic clashed with the rift, and in a matter of moments, it began to grow unstable, causing green lightning to crackle and thunder. As this happened, the eye beyond the veil expressed a hateful glare, and as the portal started to shrink, the Wings of Midgard heard a rumbling voice bellow from the other side. One that made their hearts quake.
"I WILL RETURN..."
A second later, the gateway immediately collapsed, leaving nothing in its place, save for what should have been there...
Looking back at one another, the Wings of Midgard took the moment to breathe. As the chilly, refreshing, mountainous air blew in their faces, the sound of their allies cheering down below caught their ears, followed by the roars of dragons. Narrowing their heads towards the valley, they saw the vikings, dwarves, elves, and votun standing atop their defeated foe, all whilst the chaos portals from which the Dark Legions charged through slowly began to close. Their banners blew in the sunlight, and their weapons were raised high.
Victory was theirs.
...But as their eyes continued gazing downwards, Arn suddenly fell to his knees, and thus, it caught the others' attention. Breathing heavily, the blonde lad turned his head towards the others, and expressed a frightened, worrisome look, as if something were wrong.
Hiccup crouched beside him. "Arn? Are you alright?"
"...I wish this was a nightmare," he replied.
Like so, the exhaustion of the fight finally took hold, and the Alsworn heir started to fall onto his back. His sight began to blacken, and before he knew it, he had fallen unconscious...
Hiccup let out a gasp as he instantly reacted, landing down on his knees as he caught ahold his friend, bearing him up with his hands and arms.
He then looked back at the others. "Someone get our dragons! NOW!"