He fought.

By god he fought.

He fought like a rabid animal, he fought until his mind clouded over and his eyes burned in his head. He fought until he'd lost himself entirely in the whirling abyss, in the slashing of claws, the melodies and clanging of roaring arcana. The great eldritch beings sang to him as he caused the very air to ripple and thrum to the sharpness of his desperation. They lent him their power happily, as if they too had been infected by his hatred for the great dragon laughing at him from atop the castle walls. Were they simply effected by his emotions? Perhaps they too had hated The Dragon for eons and eons and through Darkon, were finally able to act upon their vitriol.

And The Dragon seemed to relish every bit of hatred being hurled at it. It howled and roared in excitement and pain with each strike it landed or sustained. One by one, it slew the members of The Arcana, reducing them to nothing but formless ether

between its tremendous teeth - yet it did not escape unscathed. Darkon had hewn off one of its wings with his empowered polearm. It's scales were slowly dissolving in the vortex of crushing nothingness. The wounds wept golden ichor and clearly bothered The Dragon greatly. Watching the creature that's caused him so much pain limping and screaming at him (it was now flightless) would have been the greatest high Darkon had ever experienced if his mind weren't entirely focused on Suki.

His wonderful and brave fiance who was slowly dissolving in The Dragon's stomach acid at this very moment.

And so, Darkon had no mercy.

He dove in, bringing to bear every ounce of himself to plunge down upon The Dragon. The remaining Arcana roared as they smashed into it, splintering those noble green scales and splattering blood like glowing founts. Its teeth were broken in the rush, a rush that strained Darkon so terribly, he could feel his sinews pulling from his bones. Another Arcana was cut down and slain. Then another. Darkon plunged his polearm through The Dragon's burning eye, and it roared so terribly, he felt his eardrums burst. The air flexed and rumbled as the castle walls and the residents within were crushed and dissolved to powder and pulp. The sky was blood red. The wind was foul and violent. The Dragon lay in the courtyard of the destroyed palace, it's tongue lolling out of its mouth and it's body covered in lacerations, choking on blood and unable to even utter a noise as Darkon - in his frenzy - cut open it's belly to spill it's entrails upon the white marble floor.

"Suki!! Suki!"

He shouted but could not hear himself. He buried himself elbows deep in the dying Dragon's steaming offal in search of the stomach. Where was Suki? How long had she been in the Dragon's guts? Was she alive? Was she terribly maimed? Would she hate him for all of this? Oh, his beloved... he felt tears fall from his eyes as he found the stomach sac and sliced it open, spilling boiling acid all over himself.

"S-suki!"

The acid... it was sizzling upon the marble. In only moments it was eating through his armour. How... how could Suki survive this!? Had the dragon lied? Had-

"D-darkon-"

He could scarcely hear through the ringing in his head. He could scarcely see through the tears that spilled freely from his eyes. Yet, he heard that small voice - strained, pained, confused and grieved. That familiar, lovely voice he could drown in.

His Suki. His darling beloved.

"S-s..."

She was scarcely recognizable. All her armour had been dissolved. Her skin was burned all away, her hair frayed and scraggled, one of her eyes, destroyed - eaten by the acid. She looked at him with a single, stormy grey eye, and tears welled up as she struggled to pull herself from the pool of burning acid. Darkon rushed to her and carefully bore her up...

And he wept for all The Slain Dragon had taken from them.