Logron and Vetar had been helping evacuate buildings and markets for the past thirty minutes since Logron had found Vetar and relayed to him the information Cynder had told him. Other dragons from the Warfang Army had also found their way to them and either decided to help fight off the four-armed monsters, guide the Warfangian citizens out of the city, or to evacuate with them to keep them calm and safe after leaving the city.

Their forces were very thinly spread out, but they did the best with the dragons they had. There were even a few brave souls who volunteered to help them out, which they were very grateful for.

They had managed to keep their distance from Naar'voth, who was preoccupied with Cynder at this point in time, but the amount of the demonic creatures they had stumbled upon was immense. There were some people that they managed to save, but the majority of civilians that they came across were dying or already dead. It had been quite a while since any of them had seen so much gore and so many corpses.

Logron and Vetar had just gotten out of a tight skirmish, trying to protect a young family—the parents in their early twenties and their one child who was barely one year old—from a group of three of the demonic creatures. They had managed to win and were able to help the family out of Warfang by escorting them to the gates; they couldn't fly as the father had lost his wing to the monsters. Logron had gotten out of the skirmish with a severe gash in his left flank, and Vetar almost lost his right eye, bloody gashes searing over his right eyelids.

They watched the family running out of the gates, getting lost amongst several dozen other groups, both small and large, escaping through the gates.

Logron sighed with relief, taking in the brief victory. He turned to the other two dragons that were with them, both earth dragons from the army. One of them was named Max, the other named Arathûr. Max was seventy-three years old and wore many scars on his body. His left eye was missing, and he wore a heavy metal glove over his left forepaw, which had been wounded and infected from a poison glob given to him by Cynder herself. The poison had been successfully removed, but the infected wound was too far gone and could not be healed properly, resulting in a terrible scar that would cause a lot of harm to Max if it was reopened. Amputation had always been an option, one that Max constantly refused.

Arathûr was one hundred and fifty-two and had fought all over the Dragon Realms during the Dark War. He even fought with Malefor and made it out alive, although terribly wounded. He had fake teeth, as all of his real teeth had been plucked out to satisfy Malefor's sadistic desires, and embedded into his chest was a rare gem called mageon, which provided constant mana to the wearer and increases attack power. Arathûr wore this because his essence core was damaged significantly after taking on a heavy beam of convexity to the chest from Malefor.

Arathûr had been one of the strong protestors after Muras' true identity was revealed, and still had strong opinions against Muras being in Warfang. But he had been told to deal with it and to stay quiet about it, as per Cynder's orders; being a smart dragon, he did just that to stay off Cynder's bad side.

Max turned to Vetar with a sigh of exhaustion. "That's another group gone. How many more dragons do you think are still here?" Max asked with a heavy, deep rasp.

"It's Warfang, Max," Arathûr deadpanned. "The city's massive. It'll take us ages to evacuate everyone!"

"We can still try to get as many people out of here as possible, guys," Logron said, rolling his eyes. "Now let's go!"

They turned and started to sprint down the streets in search of wherever their next destination would be. This didn't last long as they were stopped in their tracks by a large splatter of black goo slamming into the ground, and two of the four-armed monsters immediately began to crawl out of it. Logron cursed.

The monsters were quick, instantly making the first move. They threw themselves at Max, knocking him down to the ground as he thrashed violently, trying to kick them off. Vetar ran to his side, clamping his jaws around the midsection of one of the monsters, raising his head and throwing it to the side. Suddenly, a third monster had leapt at him after crawling out of the black goo on the ground. It latched onto Vetar's neck, biting down hard and drawing blood.

Logron and Arathûr hurriedly made their way to Vetar and Max respectively. Logron grabbed the four-armed creature's legs in his jaws and began to pull backwards. Vetar staggered backwards, pulling against Logron, and the monster began to snarl and hiss with pain, scrabbling at Vetar's neck with sharp, curved claws as it tried to keep a hold on Vetar. Logron's pull was too strong, and with a massive spray of Vetar's blood, the monster's jaws and claws were pulled out of the fire dragon's flesh, leaving behind a large horrible mess as flesh was torn from the sides of Vetar's throat.

Quick as a flash, Vetar rushed forward and snapped his jaws around the monster's head, before he pulled with all his might; soon the creature was in two parts, blood spilling out from both ends.

The creature Vetar had thrown off Max was now running back towards them, accompanied by a fourth one that had crept out of the goo. Logron was tackled to the ground, but Vetar retained his upright posture, only staggering slightly from the weight of the monster climbing on top of him. He ran sideways into a building, crushing the monster clinging onto his right flank between himself and the wall, and there was the sound of snapping bones.

As Vetar stepped backwards, the creature slid to the ground, its back bent at an unnatural angle. With a quick strike of his tailblade, Vetar pierced its chest with a spray of blood, and its heartbeat ceased. Vetar turned to Logron, who was thrashing about on the floor at the creature that was attacking him.

Vetar ran towards it and grabbed it, pulling it off Logron and pinning it to the ground, before he opened his maw and let out a stream of fire at the monster; it snarled in pain as it burned to a crisp in Vetar's hold. Vetar didn't relent, the stream of fire continuing to bear itself down on the creature, and suddenly, an immense beam of electricity was added to that as Logron turned and opened his maw, releasing his attack. The monster let out a howl, before its thrashing ceased abruptly. Vetar closed his mouth, as did Logron, to see a blackened, crusted, bloody form underneath Vetar's paws.

Logron turned to Max, who was still struggling underneath the monster that had attacked him earlier; Arathûr had been preoccupied with a fifth one, tearing his attention away from Max. The monster on top of Max was slashing and biting relentlessly at the earth dragon's face, and as Logron bit down on its shoulder and pulled it off Max, a huge squirt of blood and a howl followed.

Inside the monster's massive maw was a bloodied eyeball, the optic nerves dangling out of its jaws, spraying dark red liquid everywhere; it proceeded to bite down and the eyeball was destroyed with a spray of blood. Logron looked back at Max with shock. He was missing both eyes now. Max's right eye socket was swelling with a ton of blood, and it spilled down his face; into his mouth, over his eyelids, underneath his eyepatch and into his left eye socket..

Pain tore Logron out of his trance as he felt fangs digging into his neck. The monster's massive jaws had clamped down over his throat, after swallowing Max's eye. Logron growled in pain, thrashing his body side-to-side savagely, throwing the monster off him. Logron was careless in doing so, however, as the creature had landed on top of Max's face, landing with incredible force on top of Max's raw eye socket, tearing a scream from the poor dragon's throat.

The four-armed creature stood and let out a frustrated snarl, before raising all four of its hands and thrusting its claws into the empty, bloody eye socket, prying it open with all its might. Logron let out a roar of protest and ran towards it, until he was tackled by a sixth monster.

The weight from the creature was instantly torn off him as Vetar and Arathûr swiped savagely at it, before it was eventually silenced by a snapped neck. Arathûr spat out the monster's head, and suddenly let out a gasp as he turned to look at Max. He was a terrible, bloody mess, and his screams were fading into hoarse croaks as the monster on top of him moved down to his neck, clawing savagely at it, dark red blood swelling from the deep wounds that marred Max's throat.

Arathûr roared in rage at the sight, lunging at the monster, knocking it off Max and slamming it into the ground. Filled with vicious rage, he clawed relentlessly at its chest, but it fought back, grabbing one of his paws with all four hands and digging its claws into the flesh. Arathûr howled with pain and fell backwards, landing with a thud on top of Max, who began to vomit blood as Arathûr landed on top of him.

Logron lunged at the four-armed demon before it could cause any more damage, swiftly cutting off its head as it attempted to rise to its feet. Logron looked down at Arathûr and Max. Arathûr was getting up, and Logron helped him to his paws, but Max was… unnaturally still.

His bloody eye sockets stared eerily up at Logron, the gaze of the empty, dark red holes seemingly following his every move. His mouth was stained dark red with his own blood, and a massive puddle of it was sprayed from his mouth, mixed with his stomach contents. Blood swelled up over his neck in the multiple, deep claw marks that decorated his throat.

Arathûr gasped with shock as he turned and saw Max's corpse. "He's… He's dead. Oh, ancestors. Oh, ancestors, WHY?!" he mourned, tears streaming down his face.

Logron fought the tears threatening to leave his eyes. "Arathûr… we should go. There's… there's nothing we can do," he murmured with a wavering voice.

There was a loud splattering sound from behind them that shook the ground. Another glob of black goo had fallen from the sky, splattering onto the ground, creating another portal for those four-armed demons to crawl out of.

"Okay, we really need to go now!" Logron screamed.

Arathûr nodded with a sniffle as he, Logron and Vetar turned and ran in a random direction, their only goal being to get away from the monsters that were appearing out of the black goo. Arathûr looked back and let out a small yelp at how many were coming at them. There was well over ten. About five of them caught sight of the escaping dragons and ran in hot pursuit, but the others, a group consisting of about seven or eight, began to climb over Max's corpse and feed on the mutilated hunk of flesh.

They ran for barely a few minutes, before they collided with two other dragons, sending all five of them to the ground. Logron looked up and saw that the dragons they had collided into were a somewhat young couple, both of them no older than fifty. The female was a very beautiful ice dragoness, tears streaming down her face, and blood streamed down a large cut on her left shoulder. Her right wing was also snapped out of alignment. The male was of the lightning element, and wore massive, bleeding cuts all over his body. The worst one was on his right flank, where the dark red liquid spread all over his bright yellow scales. Some of his intestines and bones were also visible in the deep wound.

Logron opened his mouth to call to the couple, to get them to follow him, Vetar and Arathûr, but the monsters got to the couple first. They were tackled to the ground by two monsters each, the fifth lunging at Vetar, who slammed the flat of his tailblade into its chest, sending it flying into the wall of a building with a heavy crack. It fell to the ground and scrambled slowly to the ice dragoness, who was howling in pain as the two demons on top of her tore at her body.

Her mate was in no better condition. With terrible snarls, the creatures bit and tore at the flesh of the couple, which were covered almost completely in dark red blood as they were torn limb from limb, shrieking hoarsely as gore was thrown everywhere.

Arathûr let out a whimper as he watched, Logron helping him to his paws as they all edged slowly and quietly away from the feasting monsters. Arathûr saw only momentarily this exact event happening at Max's corpse, but this event was happening right in front of his eyes, barely a few metres away from him. Blood was everywhere, half-eaten limbs thrown carelessly to the side, and guts spilling out of countless holes in the dragons' bodies.

One of the creatures bit deep into the gut of the female, before throwing its head back with a long strand of her intestines in its mouth, before it began to tug with all its might. The strand of intestines snapped with a massive spray of blood, and the dragonslayer sucked it into its maw, before it turned back to the broken intestine lying on the floor. It suddenly had to fight for it as two other dragonslayers lunged for the intestines, snarling and hissing at each other.

The sight was sickening. They knew these dragonslayers were mindless killing machines, but they were now eating their victims too. It horrified them even more. "We need to get out of here," Logron whispered, loud enough for Vetar and Arathûr to hear him, but still quiet enough that the hungry monsters couldn't.

Vetar nodded, and the three dragons slowly stepped backwards, before they turned around a corner and sprinted like hell. Bloody corpses were scattered all around the streets, some half eaten, some left to rot. The stench was sickening. They eventually ran past a terribly maimed ice dragoness, her head covered in dark blood, eyes staring sightlessly at the sky and maw open in a silent scream. But a sound reached their ears, and they froze.

Logron stalked towards the sound, which sounded much like crying. As he rounded the corner and stared down the alleyway, he was met with the most peculiar sight. Muras and a young ice dragoness, no older than four, huddled up together inside the narrow alleyway. Both of them were crying. Muras stroked the hatchling with a gentle left paw, hushing her quietly as he sobbed silently, letting loose little whimpers and hitched breaths. "Muras?" Logron asked, and Muras jumped and tightened his grip on the hatchling, before looking over towards Logron.

Arathûr stepped up behind Logron and shouted, "Malefor! Step away from the child!"

The child's soft sobs rose into terrified shrieks at Arathûr's shout, and Logron slapped the earth dragon lightly. "Arathûr, you're scaring the kid," Logron scolded.

"Plus he's not Malefor either; you know that," Vetar added.

"Whether or not he goes by Muras or Malefor, I don't give a damn," Arathûr snarled. "He killed my mother. He plucked my teeth from my mouth. He ruined the mana in my essence core, forcing me to need this damned gemstone fused into my chest!"

"Shut up," Muras whimpered.

"I won't take any orders from you, you murderous—"

"I said shut up!" Muras cried, cutting off Arathûr before he could say whatever harsh insult he was about to say in front of the child. "Make yourself useful and do me a favour, please!"

"I don't have to do anything for you, devil."

"Yes, you do," Vetar threatened, stepping right up beside Arathûr and speaking down his ear. "If Cynder were here, she'd beat you senseless to have you listen to him. He's a kind dragon; I've seen it. He only wants to help. He's trustworthy."

Arathûr held his breath as he looked from Vetar to Muras, back to Vetar, and back to Muras. Eventually he let out his breath in an exasperated groan. "Fine, what do you want me to do?" he scowled.

"Take the girl and leave. Get her out of here. Get yourself out of here," Muras said, handing the youngling over towards Arathûr. "You don't deserve to witness this. Nobody does, but someone has to stay here and stop this and save our home, and I don't think it's you. You have a life ahead of you. Live it."

Arathûr stared at Muras with shock at what he had just said. His eyes turned to the child, and his heart sank as her eyes met with his, and he saw the fear practically bleeding from those tiny cyan orbs.

"Please, take her to safety," Muras pleaded.

Suddenly, a massive explosion roared. The ground shook and smoke filled the air, rushing through the streets. The youngling's screaming began once more, and panic struck Muras. "TAKE HER!" Muras screamed, holding her forward.

Arathûr sprung into action as he reached forward and grabbed her, before spreading his wings and taking to the skies. He could see Naar'voth's massive form in the distance, clearly preoccupied, and he sped up in hopes he could get out of Warfang before Naar'voth turned and saw him.

The earth dragon's form disappeared from view, and Muras sighed with relief, wiping his eyes. "Are you alright, Muras?" Logron asked, reaching forward and placing a supportive paw on the purple dragon's shoulder.

Muras shrugged the paw off. "I'm fine, I'm just… I…" he stammered, taking a deep breath as he tried to find the words to say, struggling to hold himself together. "I saw that hatchling's mother get killed. Right in front of the little one's eyes. I told her I'd be here to keep her safe, but then she… she asked me…"

He paused as he tried to hold in his sob, his throat constricting, breathing becoming hard for him. He swallowed, with much difficulty, before continuing.

"She asked me if I was 'the bad purple dragon'. I said no, but she called me by my old name. By Malefor. Ancestors, it hurt so much knowing that she knew of me and what I had done, and then when I finally got her to come with me and hide, she just would not stop crying," Muras recounted. "She just cried and cried and wouldn't stop. It made me think about how many children I did this to. How many children I orphaned, how many children I forced to see the horrors of war. It made me think about Spyro, and how I opened him up to war at such a young age through Cynder, and how that had led him to… this.

"And then I could only think of Cynder and the childhood I took from her… stole from her. She deserved her family, a happy childhood, a happy life, and I took that all from her! And now it's all happening again to thousands, maybe millions of other kids and we can't stop it! I can't stop it! I feel responsible!"

"Muras, stop," Logron ordered, but Muras was now a blubbering mess, stammering indistinctly. He didn't even seem to acknowledge Logron's order. "Muras, look at me!" he shouted again, but still there was no response. "STOP YOUR BLUBBERING AND LOOK AT ME, MURAS!" he screamed, shaking Muras violently.

The purple dragon looked up at Logron with red, bloodshot eyes, shocked at the normally calm yellow dragon's outburst.

"You're going to be fine, I promise you. I know you did some terrible things, but you cannot focus on those things now. We need to focus on saving our home. I know you've only lived here for a couple weeks, but this is your home. We can't let it be destroyed. Not now. You remember the strength in which your victims resisted you to keep their homes safe, right?" Logron said, and Muras nodded with a sniffle. "You need that strength now. After all this time, you finally have a home, a home among other dragons, so you can't let that go now."

Muras smiled. "I know. Thanks," he muttered, shuffling to his paws and walking forward with a limp, favouring his bloodied right forepaw.

A grief-stricken howl suddenly tore through the air, louder than most of the other screams that were filling the air. Muras' head turned towards the sound, and without hesitation, began to run towards it. "Muras, wait!" Vetar called after Muras, but the purple dragon didn't hear him.

After exchanging quick, worried looks, Logron and Vetar began to run after Muras. The howling continued, and it was feminine. They were filled with grief, but at the same time, rage and fury. Another voice was underneath the howls, also feminine, but this voice was crying. As they got closer, the howls formed words. The howls were terrible, and had underlying dark tones underneath them. "Kill me!" they heard, before the distorted, almost demonic feminine howls were ceased.

The second voice, the female sobbing, was the only one left, and the soft sobs rose into depressed wails. Muras held his breath. He recognised that voice. They all did. As they ran around the corner, they stopped with a gasp.

Cynder lay in the middle of a small courtyard, blood covering her body, most significantly on her tailblade and right forepaw. A disembodied heart lay a few metres in front of her, and two bloodied corpses were scattered around her. Muras let out a shocked gasp as he realised that the corpses weren't the four-armed monsters.

They were dragons.

Was Cynder the monster here?

"Cynder?" Muras asked, and Cynder looked up with a frightened whimper, eyes wide and bloodshot, tears streaming down them. "What happened here?"

Cynder lost it. She scrambled to her paws, before scrabbling backwards, screaming and crying. She felt the wall of a building against her back and shuddered, curling in on herself like a child. "Stay away from me!" Cynder pleaded. "Stay away from me, please! I'm a monster!"

"What?! You did this?!" Vetar exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to! I swear it to the ancestors! I didn't want to!" Cynder howled, her sobs so heavy she couldn't even breathe.

Muras sighed sadly, and his eyes began to swell with tears. He hadn't seen Cynder this terrified since… since the day of her corruption. He remembered the terrified screams from the little hatchling as Gaul closed in on her, with chains trailing behind him, ready to chain her up to begin the corruption process.

The purple dragon took a step towards Cynder to calm her down, but she continued screaming. Swallowing, Muras took another step towards her. And another. Her screaming continued, and got louder, and louder, and louder. Her face was screwed up in a constant frown, jaws gaping wide as she tried to complete a task as simple as breathing, but without success. Her chest heaved as she howled and wailed. Her eyes stayed fixed on him, widened to the point where Muras thought her wet, bloodshot eyes would fall out of her eye sockets. He tried shushing her gently, but she only howled even harder.

Eventually, Muras stopped. He was about a metre away from Cynder. She looked so small and pitiful, despite her actually being slightly taller than him. She shrunk in on herself, still wailing, raising her paws to her eyes and wiping them, and tensing with an even more forceful howl as she remembered the blood on her forepaw and brought it back, looking at it with fear as she felt the blood she had smeared on her face mix with her tears and drip down into her mouth. The coat of blood on her dark scales was so thick she could almost see her pitiful reflection in it. She slowly put the blood-stained paw on the ground again and averted her gaze from Muras.

Muras shed a tear and leaned forward, opening his wings wide as he embraced Cynder, who began to push against him. He could feel the blood smeared all over her get smeared against his scales, and he could feel her wet tears as she eventually tried using her head to push the purple dragon away from her. Her pushing was pitiful; it was like she had reverted to a childlike state, and had no more strength than a mere hatchling. It was heartbreaking. Muras continued to hold her in his embrace, which didn't seem to be doing much. "Cynder, you're gonna be okay. You're going to be fine. Look at me," he murmured.

"No. No, it's all my fault," Cynder whimpered between harsh, forcefull sobs. "It's all my fault!"

"No, it's not, Cynder! It's nobody's fault!" Muras reassured her.

"It is! You don't know what happened, it is my fault!"

"Then tell me what happened!"

"What does it matter?! I killed them and it's all my fault!"

Logron's voice added to the mix. "Muras, one of them's a child!" he cried, his voice shaky and filled with fear.

Muras felt the need to slug Logron in the jaw, but he kept his cool, remembering Cynder's miserable form as she began to cry harder after hearing Logron speak. "Tell me what happened, Cynder!" Muras repeated forcefully, but gently.

"I… I found the kid. The poor thing was turning… getting possessed. I killed him to free him. I felt it was more sane than having him live through it and having that trauma when he wakes up from it, if he ever would. I didn't want him to go through what I did. Obviously I was wrong in doing so and I regret it now," Cynder explained between harsh sobs. "Then the mother came and attacked me, before she was corrupted too. She asked me to kill her and I did!"

Muras, Logron and Vetar exchanged extremely concerned looks as Cynder broke down in front of them and told them the gruesome details.

"Why must everything end in murder?! Why must it always be me doing the murdering?! Why can't I just live a peaceful life?! My whole childhood was torture, now the ancestors want to torture me more! Why don't you just kill me?!" Cynder screamed, looking up at Muras as she howled the last sentence.

"Cynder, stop!" Muras growled. "It isn't your fault. It's Naar'voth's fault for leading you to have to kill them."

Cynder started to calm down, but she continued to sob into Muras' chest. "But I could have turned and run. I could have found another way to save them. Why must my mind always resort to death?"

"Because that's my fault, Cynder. But what's done is done. We have to move past the past and focus on the present. We need to fight for our future. We need to fight for our home. Warfang is a wonderful, beautiful place. Over the past thousand years, this city really has become a place of unity and beauty. I'd be devastated to see it go because we didn't stand up for what is right. Even if we die, I'd much rather die fighting than die knowing that I didn't try to stop this due to my own cowardice."

"Well said, Muras," Vetar said from behind them.

There was a pause, before Muras felt Cynder slowly nod against his chest. He then felt her pushing him away. Muras obliged, giving Cynder her own personal space. Her eyes were still wet and bloodshot, and tears still continued to spill down her face. "Thanks. And sorry. I… I don't know what came over me," Cynder sniffled.

"Don't apologise, Cynder. It's completely understandable. I get it," Muras said with a knowing nod.

"I just… I want this to be over. I'm sick and tired of the fighting, of the darkness, of the death. I wish so badly to be able to go back to how everything was before this all started," Cynder murmured. "I don't even know if that's possible. Naar'voth sounds like an unbeatable foe. I don't know if we can even beat him."

"Then surrender."

Cynder's reaction was immediate as panic filled her, especially since she hadn't fully recovered from her earlier breakdown. She screamed in fear and bolted away. She heard Logron shout her name, but she didn't comprehend it.

The sounds of Naar'voth chasing after her reached her ears, and Cynder grew even more panicked; having this monster chase her through the desolate, corpse-riddled streets put her very on edge. She turned back, watching this massive bipedal demon crush buildings as he stomped after her, reaching down towards her to reach her.

She suddenly felt a claw descend on her, tearing through the wing membrane on her left wing and slicing through her left flank, drawing immense amounts of blood. Cynder felt herself about to collapse and dived into a narrow alleyway. Naar'voth shoved his claw in the alleyway to try and fish her out, but she had slid far enough through the alleyway out of his reach.

Naar'voth's claw was smeared with her blood, and his frustrated growl rumbled through the sky. Cynder looked up through the crack in between the buildings and saw as the large demon pulled his claw out of the alleyway, raising it up to his face to look at the blood-stained claw. He brought the claw towards his lips, before he licked the claw clean of all her blood.

He let out a low chuckle of satisfaction, and Cynder felt her blood run cold at the sound.

"Come on out, Cynder. No more blood needs to be shed today. Surrender yourself and be done with this!"

Cynder couldn't move. Fear froze her in place.

She couldn't breathe. Everything in her body, including her essence core, was in so much pain that she had to fight to breathe.

It was all too much to handle.

"You said it yourself: you want this to be over. You want the death and the fighting to be over. Surrender, and we can make that happen."

You'll just use me to do the killing and fighting… Cynder thought to herself, knowing there was a catch to this. That way I won't have to kill myself trying to fight an enemy I can't win against. I will not go back to that life.

She didn't move.

Naar'voth sighed, before turning around and taking a few steps forward as he looked around. Cynder took her opportunity and ran as best as she could despite her limp, back towards Muras, Logron and Vetar. They gasped at the sight of her bloodied flank.

Before they got a chance to ask Cynder what happened, loud screams tore through the air. Their eyes were drawn back to Naar'voth, who was holding an adult ice dragon in his upper right hand. The dragon kicked and screamed, fighting as hard as he could, but to no prevail. A rumbling growl left Naar'voth's throat, before he opened his jaws wide and bit down hard around the dragon's torso, biting him in two.

Torrents of blood spilled from the dragon's body and down Naar'voth's lips as the dragon's screams were immediately silenced with a crunch. Gore spilled from the corpse in Naar'voth's hand, and blood continued to ooze from his maw as he chewed. The horrid sound of snapping bones and crunching flesh was the only sound that filled the air, followed by the blood raining down on the ground below Naar'voth.

He swallowed, before opening his jaws again, thick strings of blood hanging between his jaws, and taking another bite of the ice dragon's body. More blood spilled from the corpse both in his hand and mouth. He began to squeeze on the corpse he held, snapping even more bones and pushing more blood and gore out of the holes in the dragon's body.

Naar'voth swallowed his second bite, but didn't finish eating as he threw the last of the dragon's body on the ground. There was a wet snapping sound as it hit the ground hard, audible from several blocks away.

Cynder wanted to throw up. She had seen plenty of blood in her lifetime, but not that much. She didn't even know a dragon had that much blood! She remembered eating some of her victims as the Terror of the Skies, but they were only felines or rodents that she fed on, never dragons. This… this was terrifying to watch, and absolutely sickening.

Her body wouldn't let her think of it any longer as she retched, bending down to vomit on the ground. Muras was struggling to keep his stomach settled too. Logron stood with a shocked expression, bottom jaw hanging low, and Vetar was woozy, shaking and swaying on his paws.

"Let this be a lesson to what happens to those who defy me! You cannot win! Surrender yourself, or face a gruesome, bloody fate like this wyrm here!" Naar'voth announced, his voice loud and painful to listen to.

Cynder didn't get much of a chance to comprehend what he had said as Naar'voth reared his head and let out a terrible shriek, his eyes glowing bright red as dark energy tore from his throat, shooting up into the sky, and exploding out with a loud, resounding boom. The dark purple energy spread all over the sky, before it fell down to the ground. The sight spoke doom. Doom for all the world.

Right now, it seemed as if Naar'voth had won.

"Guys, we need to get out of here," Ignitus murmured, running out of the massive temple into the beautiful, luscious courtyard with small, rounded pools of pure, blue water.

Ash stopped his spar with Torialis and turned to look at his predecessor with confusion. "Why? There's literally nothing wrong here," he replied.

"You say that, yet look at the sky," Ignitus said, looking up at the darkening sky.

The guardian apprentices followed Ignitus' gaze, watching as wisps of dark energy began to stretch along the length of the beautiful pink sky above, before particles of the glistening dark energy began to rain down on them.

"Nice. Way to go, Ash," Lagenon said, walking up to the fire drake and slapping him on the shoulder with the flat of his tailblade.

"Lagenon, now's not the time. It's not his fault," Ignitus scolded. "Now seriously, we need to get out."

"What is this stuff?" Frélix asked, lifting his piercing cyan eyes to the sky.

"Dark energy, straight from a demon named Naar'voth. He's one of the worst ones, and Spyro has summoned Naar'voth into him," Ignitus murmured. "I feared this would happen, but I… I didn't think it actually would. Naar'voth being in our realm is a very bad thing."

Before the four guardian trainees knew it, Ignitus had turned and was speed walking towards the Celestial Caves. Torialis stammered indistinctly, before finally finding his words and calling out to the Chronicler. "Ignitus! You're training us to be guardians, right? Should we be staying here to guard the White Isle? As guardians, isn't that what we're meant to do?" the earth dragon asked.

Ignitus paused and turned back, a sad smile on his face. He laughed sadly, and Torialis' face fell when he saw how hopeless the Chronicler looked. "This is something we can't fight against," Ignitus said. "This is beyond us."

"We should at least try! While our training is still going, this is our home!" Torialis scowled. "I'd much rather fight for it than let it die!"

"That's a suicide mission!" Ignitus roared, storming towards Torialis.

"I don't care! This is my home for now and I like it here! I'm not going to be a coward and let this place die! Hell, this place is where the records of history is! Are you sure you want to leave it?! To die?! To have all of history's records erased?!"

"That's enough! You're coming with me!" Ignitus scowled.

Ash, Frélix and Lagenon jumped with shock as the Chronicler tackled the earth guardian trainee to the ground. Torialis kicked and shouted from underneath Ignitus, who chanted a light spell to make the earth dragon go limp. Ignitus grabbed Torialis by the nape, dragging him along the ground towards the Celestial Caves. "Come on, you three. Let's go," Ignitus growled between his mouthful of scales.

The remaining three guardian trainees looked at each other and began to follow Ignitus into the Celestial Caves. No sooner after they entered the dark, eerie cave did the cave walls begin to rumble loudly around them. Ignitus placed Torialis down on the ground, and the earth drake picked himself up off the ground, muttering under his breath, "That was a crap move you pulled."

"Hey, shut it!" Ignitus ordered.

"What is that?" Ash asked, voice trembling with fear as the bright blue crystals that lit the cave began to flicker, the deep, rumbling tremors intensifying by the second.

"I don't know, but whatever it is, it's not good," Ignitus said. "Let's go."

They picked up the pace and broke into a run as tremors started to shake the earth around them; large chunks of rock and crystals began to break off the walls and ceiling of the cave, slamming onto the ground.

Lagenon tripped over a large rock on the ground, falling over onto his left foreleg and feeling it snap underneath his weight. He cried out in pain, and Ash came running over to help the downed lightning dragon out by working himself underneath Lagenon's body and picking him up on his back. Lagenon growled a small curse under his breath from the pain. Before long, Lagenon was on Ash's back, and the fire dragon had turned and continued to run after Ignitus, Torialis, and Frélix.

A loud crack tore through the caves as the roof split above them, sending several massive chunks of rock raining down on them. Torialis used his earth breath to destroy the rocks, shattering them into smaller pebbles. However, he missed one as it landed on top of him. He groaned, reducing the rock to dust with his earth element and standing back up; he remained mostly uninjured, except for a bloody nose.

Frélix let out a shout as he noticed glistening black liquid seeping through the cracks between the rocks. "What is that stuff?!" he cried, causing the Chronicler to look back at the black goo swelling through the rocks.

"Alright, pick up the pace guys! And prepare to fight if necessary!" Ignitus ordered.

"Fight?! Why would we—?!"

A snarl echoed through the cave, stopping Frélix's retort. There was the sound of a sixth set of footsteps, and Frélix made the mistake of turning around to look. An inky, black, demonic creature pulled itself out of the black goo on the ground, missing eyes and a nose, its face being made up mostly of maw, and four arms with long claws that resembled sickles. Frélix swore in fear, picking up the pace.

More snarls and roars sounded behind them, before some sounded in front of them. It wasn't long before three more of the demonic creatures ran out from in front of the running dragons, muscles tensed, ready for action, and claws clenched. The other three guardian trainees shouted in horror at the disgusting features that the monsters bore.

A loud roar sounded from beside the trainees as Ignitus thundered forward, ready for battle. With a wild sweep of his tailblade, he sliced a deep, bloody gash in the chest of one of the monsters, causing it to stagger backwards, snarling with pain. It recovered and roared in anger, lunging at Ignitus, but he batted the creature to the side with his claws, leaving massive claw marks across its abdomen. He leapt on top of it and bit down on its neck, before he was tackled to the ground by a second monster.

Ignitus felt sharp, twisted fangs in his shoulder, and the terrible sensation of warm blood trickling down his scales. He didn't even know he could lose blood, but then again he was in the stage between a spiritual being and a physical being, so he still had a proper, physical body capable of bleeding. He shuddered to think what would happen if he bled out or had his vital organs severed.

The first monster leapt on top of Ignitus, also bringing its fangs down on Ignitus' neck. He snarled in pain, forcing himself to his paws and running backwards into the wall of the cave, causing it to crumble from force. There was a snap as one of the creatures' backs cracked, but the other merely got squashed between Ignitus and the rock wall, snarling in protest for Ignitus to get off it.

Ignitus stepped forward off the wall, turning around quickly before the monster could recover, shoving his claws into its chest and killing it with a spurt of blood. Oh, how he hated killing.

The Chronicler turned to look at the guardian trainees. They were holding well on their own, but they too were wounded. Frélix's eyelids were bloodied and swollen, massive claw marks raking down his face. Ash was fighting alone—Lagenon had been pushed off his back; both of them were streaming blood from their noses and chests. Torialis had large bite wounds on his shoulders as he held the head of a monster in his two forepaws, slamming it forcefully into the ground, staining the ground red with its blood.

Ignitus gasped as a monster closed in on Lagenon, who was unable to move due to his broken leg. Ignitus leapt on top of it, killing it swiftly with a downwards chop of his tailblade on its neck, decapitating it. Ignitus worked his body under Lagenon's, lifting the downed lightning dragon on his back, before calling out to the other three, "Guys, we'd better go now! We can't fight these guys!"

Quickly, Ash, Torialis and Frélix turned, getting in a few final blows to the dragonslayers, before they began to run after Ignitus. The monsters snarled behind them, running after them in hot pursuit. "RUN!" Ignitus shouted. "THE EXIT'S RIGHT UP AHEAD!"

And so it was. As they turned the corner, the terrain suddenly got steeper and a bright light shone through the cave. Ash began to cheer, but suddenly, another tremor shook the cave, and the mouth of the cave suddenly began to collapse, before the outside light was snuffed out. "No! Ash, you idiot, you jinxed us!" Lagenon scowled from atop Ignitus' back.

"Lagenon, shut it! It wasn't his fault!" Ignitus replied.

"Torialis, can you do something about this?" Frélix asked.

"I'll try," Torialis muttered, stepping forward and rearing up on his hind legs, placing his forepaws on the wall of rocks that blocked their path.

The snarls of the monsters behind them reached their ears, as the five monsters that were still alive ran up the steep ascent towards them. "Get ready to fight, guys," Ignitus warned, before growling to Torialis, "Torialis, as quickly as you can, please!"

"I'm… trying!" Torialis growled as his paws began to glow green.

Frélix ducked as a wild swipe from a monster soared over his head, before he was punched in the face with its lower fist, sending him toppling to the ground, dazed. The creature snarled as it stepped on top of Frélix, saliva dripping down its jaws as it dug its claws into Frélix's gut. Frélix stifled a scream, hissing air through his gritted fangs as he looked up at his attacker with hate.

A strong stream of fire knocked the weight of the monster off him. Frélix thanked Ash as he stood and clawed at the monster's throat, before ripping it out with a huge spurt of blood. Frélix turned to Ash who was fighting another two monsters on his own, and rushed to take down one of them for Ash. It struggled underneath his weight, snapping and snarling at him, before he bit down on its neck and snapping it. Frélix looked to Ash and watched him finish off the monster he was fighting with a stab to the heart.

There was a loud, resounding crack as light filtered through the cave again, Torialis successfully reopening the mouth of the cave. Ignitus, Ash, Frélix and Torialis made no hesitation as they quickly turned and ran out of the cave. "Quick, fly!" Ignitus ordered, spreading out his wings and feeling Lagenon fumbling about on Ignitus' back, trying to find a hold on Ignitus' body so he wouldn't fall.

Ignitus took to the sky, Ash, Frélix and Torialis following. The sky was dark purple with dark energy, almost black. There was a small island just a few hundred metres out to sea from the White Isle. Ignitus landed on it, and Ash, Frélix and Torialis followed him. Ignitus gently lowered Lagenon to the ground and looked over towards his home of eight years with sorrow. He stammered for a while, unsure what to say.

"Ignitus? Are you alright?" Lagenon asked.

"Do you think I'm alright?" Ignitus growled. "My home has been taken over by darkness. I knew there was nothing I could do to save it, but it doesn't make it hurt any less. In fact, it makes it hurt more, knowing that I couldn't have saved it."

"Well, why don't you go find Cynder? Maybe she might be able to do something about it," Ash suggested.

Ignitus turned with a scowl on his face. "Cynder? Cynder?! Do you think I can go to Cynder?! No, she has to come to me, because I cannot leave this place! I'm on the bridge between a physical and a spiritual being, as I've already told you, and unless I'm completely spirit or completely physical, I can't leave the White Isle's borders! This island marks the edge of it!" he snapped.

"Then why don't you call Cynder here then?"

"Because one, she's probably dealing with Naar'voth, and two, I need to be in the damned temple to be able to call her here!"

"Dear ancestors, I'm sorry," Ash muttered, stepping back and voice dripping with annoyance. He had only wanted to help.

"I know. I'm sorry, too. I've just never felt this… this hopeless," Ignitus murmured. "There's generally always been something I could do whenever things like this happened, but now this is far beyond anything I can do, even as the Chronicler, and it scares me, knowing I can't do anything this time.

"It pains me too, knowing that Spyro, the one who I thought was pure, the one who saved the whole world, was the one who did this, who summoned this darkness into the world, into himself. Spyro the purple dragon, the dragon of prophecy. The kindest dragon I'd ever known, and the most resilient. The most courageous. Not… whatever he's become now."

Ignitus growled in annoyance, turning back towards the While Isle, which was now being swallowed by the dark energy. "Why did I have to save him? If I didn't save Spyro's egg, maybe none of this would have happened," Ignitus murmured.

"But then Malefor would have gotten Spyro, and then Spyro would have taken Cynder's place, and Cynder would most likely be dead, her egg smashed by the apes. That would have been so much worse," Torialis mentioned. "All of this? It may have happened sooner."

"Then maybe I should have taken the egg like I did, and then smashed the damn thing immediately, so that Spyro was never born!" Ignitus spat through gritted teeth, causing all four dragons to flinch and gasp at the sheer rage behind the words.

"Ignitus, if you'd done that, then Malefor would still be reigning today. He'd most likely still have Cynder under his clutches, and even worse, no one would have been able to stop him when he brought the Destroyer upon the world," Ash said, stepping towards Ignitus cautiously.

"At least it couldn't be any worse than this hell!"

"Ignitus! Calm down!" Ash roused, causing everyone else to freeze at the commanding tone in Ash's voice, and even more so, how much more mature he seemed. "Where are these thoughts coming from? This isn't you!"

"I… I don't know!" Ignitus breathed, tears glistening in his eyes. "I've… I've only ever felt this once before. This immense sadness, hopelessness… After I lost my fellow guardians to Cynder, after the Dragon Temple fell, after… everything was taken for me."

"All your life, you have had a huge responsibility, Ignitus. First as the fire guardian, the head of the guardians, no less, and now as the Chronicler. And your responsibility as the Chronicler is one I don't think you could ever have prepared for. The war, both of them, was also something that you could have prepared for. No one could have. So many people have died, have been corrupted, have become slaves. So many people have been scarred, and hurt, and maimed, and even more crap," Ash said softly. "I know you feel like you've failed, but you haven't. You've done a great job as a guardian and as the Chronicler, and even if our world ends, know that you did your role the best you could have."

"But why… am I feeling this?" Ignitus rasped, his voice low and breathy, and a tear slipped down his face.

"Like you said, you're on the bridge between a physical and spiritual form. Your wisdom and power comes from your spiritual form, but your emotions and your thoughts, they all come from your physical form. These emotions are mortal emotions, and they're natural in everyone. These emotions you're feeling? They're the same that you experienced back during the Dark War: grief, horror, depression… regret. All of these negative emotions have welled up within you once more, and they've hit breaking point; you have to let them go."

Ignitus looked at Ash with a small, sad smile. "All my life, I've tried to be strong with the cards that have been dealt to me. So many times I have tried to swallow my emotions, keep them down, so I could be a capable leader for Terrador, Volteer, and Cyril, so I could protect the Dragon Temple, the eggs, dragonkind…" Ignitus muttered. "The same has applied to now. I've had to teach you four, I've had to chronicle… so much horror and violence and death, and witness this world succumb to darkness.

"I just wish I could've done more. I know I could've done more. All this time I thought it was my job never to intervene, but looking back, I wish I helped out more, gave more warnings. I could've prevented all of this. This time I had a chance to actually do something and stop things before they happened. I didn't tell Cynder anything. I spoke in convoluted mannerisms, trying not to say too much, where I should've said more. I sent her into the Well of Souls, clueless as to what she was up against. I failed, worse than I did when I was living…"

Ignitus trailed off, before looking at the White Isle once more. Screeches filled the air in the distance, and Ignitus' heart fell. "The White Isle is gone," he whimpered, feeling the fresh tears flow. "I'm no Chronicler deserving of this role. The world is about to end anyway. Armageddon has come. Please, in these last few hours of the world's life, stay with me." Ignitus turned towards the four guardian trainees he had been training all this time. "Be here with me. Please."

The four dragons looked at each other. "Of course we will, Ignitus. We will stay here with you until the very end," Ash said.

"I like this Ash better," Torialis mumbled.

Ash turned back with a smile. "I've matured over the past few months. I like being a bit goofy still, but… but now's not the time. Now, we need to be here together, and comfort each other, in the last hours of this world, before everything succumbs to darkness," he said.

Torialis responded with a sad smile. Frélix was crying. "Us four have been together for a while now, and we've come so far since we first met in the Warfang Temple with Cynder and Logron. We've become so close! I can't believe the end has come so soon," the ice dragon wept. "I don't want this to end."

"Hey," Lagenon said softly, still lying on the ground. "It's alright, Frélix. This might be the end of this life, but it's the beginning of another."

"I'm not ready to die yet, though." Frélix sobbed, turning his head in the direction of the open sea, where the main landmass of the Dragon Realms lay, including Warfang, and Cynder, and Naar'voth. "I only pray that the ancestors lend Cynder and the rest of those in Warfang the power to defeat Naar'voth."

"Agreed," Ignitus said.

A loud screech tore through the air. Bright lights flashed in the black clouds that covered the sky, in multiple different colours. Multiple voices joined the first, before a chorus of screams tore through the air. "Are those demons, or the ancestors?" Torialis asked.

"Both," Ignitus said, noticing the dark red flashes of light and the horrific screeches that sung through the sky. "The ancestors are fighting the demons. Naar'voth has managed to open up the gates of the Dark Realm, becoming a conduit to get the demons from down there up to the Ancestral Realm."

"Now the ancestors are fighting too?!" Ash cried.

"Yes. This truly is Armageddon," Ignitus murmured, tears spilling down his face in larger amounts than they ever had in his life. "Dear ancestors, give everyone back at Warfang the strength to destroy Naar'voth. Please."

And that's another chapter finished, another chapter closer to finishing! We're finally getting there, I'm so excited!

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Dragon of Mystery: I mean Naar'voth is a demon so he's pretty much just all evil lol. Some interesting ideas there as well, I must say I'm inspired hehehe. I'm glad you're liking the chapters too, they're very fun to write!

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Thanks to everyone who read the chapter! Hope you enjoyed, and have a great rest of your day! A review would be greatly appreciated as always :)