Hiccup's Point of View
Cracks split the stone behind my back like veins through brittle bone.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
And my grin only grew.
The laughter had ended, but the high hadn't. The fire that roared through my chest was brighter than the flames crawling over Hookfang's hide. Every nerve in my body thrummed with energy. With life.
With joy.
"Yes..." I whispered, voice like smoke through the silence.
My eyes burned emerald.
"...Excellent."
I leaned forward just slightly, my body still half-wedged in the stone.
"I haven't had this much fun in ages."
The Monstrous Nightmare—still flaming, still poised—froze. Not from fear. From tension. From knowing.
He had wanted the Alpha.
And now?
He had him.
I tilted my head, cocking an eyebrow as the dust cleared from my shoulders.
"What did you say your name was again?"
The Nightmare's voice echoed in my mind—low, steady.
"I don't have one."
I chuckled.
Not mocking.
Decisive.
"Well, we can't have that now, can we?"
I leaned out of the wall slowly, letting the broken stone fall around me like pebbles from a cliffside.
"You burn like fury. You fight with fire. You earn your place."
My claws flexed.
"Hookfang."
The name settled in the arena like a brand pressed to steel.
I stepped forward.
The stone cracked.
My foot hit the ground.
And I exploded out of the wall like a force of nature.
Rock shattered.
The crater disintegrated behind me.
I landed on the sand with both feet, crouched, claws pressed deep into the dirt, firelight flashing off the sharp edges of my armor.
The crowd gasped in unison.
Some shrieked.
But I didn't hear them.
Because I was already moving.
"HOOKFANG!!" I bellowed, voice tearing through the air like a war cry. "You'd better bring everything you've got—"
I twisted my neck, muscles stretching as I cracked my shoulders and back like snapping branches.
"—because I'm done holding back."
Hookfang's flames roared.
We charged.
Together.
Claws out.
Fire burning across his scales.
Eyes filled with challenge and respect.
Hookfang stood across from me, bloodied, winded, but unyielding. He was a warrior, and in this moment, I recognized something kindred in him—something primal, something hungry.
We weren't enemies.
We were forces.
And only one force could stand above the rest.
I lunged first.
The sand cracked beneath my feet as I launched myself across the arena, claws slashing forward, shoulder low. Hookfang roared and met my charge with a burst of flame that exploded between us, but I plunged into it without hesitation.
My armor scorched, the air sucked dry from my lungs, but I twisted through the blaze, appearing at his left flank.
I struck.
A vertical slash across his ribs, fast enough to cut but not deep enough to maim. Hookfang spun with a snarl, tail sweeping, wings flaring. His claws slammed downward, forcing me to roll sideways into the dust.
He followed.
Faster now.
He was done holding back too.
His claw came down, and I raised my arm to block—metal screeching as his talons clashed with my bracers, the shockwave slamming into my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and shoved upward, breaking contact and twisting to the side before slashing at his exposed flank.
Sparks flew. Blood sprayed.
He roared again.
And we reset.
Two predators circling.
Then—he leapt.
Hookfang crashed down with full body weight, claws extended, fire trailing from his jaws. I flipped backward, landed on one hand, and sprung off my palm, driving a double-kick into his jaw before twisting midair and landing behind him.
He turned too fast for me to follow up.
Flame burst from his maw, so hot it flash-boiled the sand beneath my feet.
I dropped, rolled beneath it, and vanished into the fire.
He lost track of me.
Good.
From the flames, I burst upward, claws extended, slashing down across his back and dragging sparks and blood with me.
Hookfang screamed and bucked, tossing me off—but I twisted, flipped in midair, and landed like a crouching cat.
Then sprinted again.
No time.
Keep the rhythm.
Strike. Dodge. Cut. Breathe.
He wheeled around and bit.
His jaws snapped inches from my throat.
I dropped low and punched upward, claws driving into his chin hard enough to send his head flying back.
He staggered.
I moved in.
I raked my claws across his chest—he slammed his wing into my side, sending me skidding across the sand.
I coughed once, blood on my tongue.
He advanced.
Breathing ragged.
Burns on his side.
One eye nearly swollen shut.
He was breaking.
So was I.
But we kept going.
Because this wasn't just about strength.
This was about proving it.
We clashed again.
He roared into my face—I slammed my forehead against his snout in response.
The shock made him reel.
I grabbed his horn, pulled him forward, and drove a knee into his neck.
He collapsed to one elbow.
I backed away, breathing hard, claws shaking from fatigue.
Hookfang pushed himself upright.
I saw it in his eyes.
The respect.
The surrender.
But also—the pride.
We stared.
Then—he bowed.
Wings folding.
Head pressed to the ground.
And the flames on his body went out.
Third Person Perspective
A hush fell over the arena.
Even the wind dared not move.
Hookfang, the Monstrous Nightmare, once wreathed in flame and fury, now knelt before the one he could not conquer. His head touched the earth, wings tucked in, breath low and submissive. His fire had died—not in defeat, but in respect.
Everyone saw it.
Everyone knew what it meant.
Hiccup didn't speak.
He didn't gloat.
He simply stood there, chest rising with deep, steady breaths. His armor was scorched, his cheek still marred from that single graze, his claws dripping with a mixture of sweat, soot, and blood—not all of it his own.
And he smiled.
Not a cruel grin.
Not a smirk.
Something calmer.
Deeper.
Then he turned slowly to face the crowd. His emerald eyes scanned the arena stands, locking with no one and yet seeing everyone.
And then—
He tilted his head back...
...and roared.
It was no cry of victory.
No celebration.
It was a claim.
A declaration that this land, this sky, this air—all of it—had heard him.
And obeyed.
It echoed through the cliffs.
It bounced off the walls.
It reached the sea and the mountains beyond.
Every human froze.
Warriors paled.
Children grabbed their parents.
Even Stoick, standing above all, swallowed hard as the sound struck his bones like a hammer.
Because that was not the roar of a man.
It was the roar of a king.
And only dragons understood the truth of it.
No others joined him.
Not even the Vanguard.
Because this was his moment.
Only one voice dared rise beside it.
A squeaky, high-pitched attempt at mimicry.
"RRROAARRR!!"
Everyone turned.
Freya.
She stood in the stands beside Luna and Astrid, fists clenched, eyes sparkling, doing her absolute best to match her papa's roar.
She failed spectacularly.
But she was beaming.
Luna blinked once—then smirked.
Astrid pressed her hand to her mouth to stop a laugh.
Hiccup paused.
Then chuckled.
The sound—so quiet after what had come before—rippled through the arena like sunlight cracking the storm.
His shoulders rose in amusement, claws retracting slightly as he gazed up at his daughter.
The terror lifted.
Just for a second.
And still—
No dragon roared with him.
Because none needed to.
One had bowed.
The others had witnessed.
The message was clear.
The Alpha didn't ask for loyalty.
He earned it.Chapter 101: The King Breaks Loose
Hiccup's Point of View
Cracks split the stone behind my back like veins through brittle bone.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
And my grin only grew.
The laughter had ended, but the high hadn't. The fire that roared through my chest was brighter than the flames crawling over Hookfang's hide. Every nerve in my body thrummed with energy. With life.
With joy.
"Yes..." I whispered, voice like smoke through the silence.
My eyes burned emerald.
"...Excellent."
I leaned forward just slightly, my body still half-wedged in the stone.
"I haven't had this much fun in ages."
The Monstrous Nightmare—still flaming, still poised—froze. Not from fear. From tension. From knowing.
He had wanted the Alpha.
And now?
He had him.
I tilted my head, cocking an eyebrow as the dust cleared from my shoulders.
"What did you say your name was again?"
The Nightmare's voice echoed in my mind—low, steady.
"I don't have one."
I chuckled.
Not mocking.
Decisive.
"Well, we can't have that now, can we?"
I leaned out of the wall slowly, letting the broken stone fall around me like pebbles from a cliffside.
"You burn like fury. You fight with fire. You earn your place."
My claws flexed.
"Hookfang."
The name settled in the arena like a brand pressed to steel.
I stepped forward.
The stone cracked.
My foot hit the ground.
And I exploded out of the wall like a force of nature.
Rock shattered.
The crater disintegrated behind me.
I landed on the sand with both feet, crouched, claws pressed deep into the dirt, firelight flashing off the sharp edges of my armor.
The crowd gasped in unison.
Some shrieked.
But I didn't hear them.
Because I was already moving.
"HOOKFANG!!" I bellowed, voice tearing through the air like a war cry. "You'd better bring everything you've got—"
I twisted my neck, muscles stretching as I cracked my shoulders and back like snapping branches.
"—because I'm done holding back."
Hookfang's flames roared.
We charged.
Together.
Claws out.
Fire burning across his scales.
Eyes filled with challenge and respect.
Hookfang stood across from me, bloodied, winded, but unyielding. He was a warrior, and in this moment, I recognized something kindred in him—something primal, something hungry.
We weren't enemies.
We were forces.
And only one force could stand above the rest.
I lunged first.
The sand cracked beneath my feet as I launched myself across the arena, claws slashing forward, shoulder low. Hookfang roared and met my charge with a burst of flame that exploded between us, but I plunged into it without hesitation.
My armor scorched, the air sucked dry from my lungs, but I twisted through the blaze, appearing at his left flank.
I struck.
A vertical slash across his ribs, fast enough to cut but not deep enough to maim. Hookfang spun with a snarl, tail sweeping, wings flaring. His claws slammed downward, forcing me to roll sideways into the dust.
He followed.
Faster now.
He was done holding back too.
His claw came down, and I raised my arm to block—metal screeching as his talons clashed with my bracers, the shockwave slamming into my shoulder. I gritted my teeth and shoved upward, breaking contact and twisting to the side before slashing at his exposed flank.
Sparks flew. Blood sprayed.
He roared again.
And we reset.
Two predators circling.
Then—he leapt.
Hookfang crashed down with full body weight, claws extended, fire trailing from his jaws. I flipped backward, landed on one hand, and sprung off my palm, driving a double-kick into his jaw before twisting midair and landing behind him.
He turned too fast for me to follow up.
Flame burst from his maw, so hot it flash-boiled the sand beneath my feet.
I dropped, rolled beneath it, and vanished into the fire.
He lost track of me.
Good.
From the flames, I burst upward, claws extended, slashing down across his back and dragging sparks and blood with me.
Hookfang screamed and bucked, tossing me off—but I twisted, flipped in midair, and landed like a crouching cat.
Then sprinted again.
No time.
Keep the rhythm.
Strike. Dodge. Cut. Breathe.
He wheeled around and bit.
His jaws snapped inches from my throat.
I dropped low and punched upward, claws driving into his chin hard enough to send his head flying back.
He staggered.
I moved in.
I raked my claws across his chest—he slammed his wing into my side, sending me skidding across the sand.
I coughed once, blood on my tongue.
He advanced.
Breathing ragged.
Burns on his side.
One eye nearly swollen shut.
He was breaking.
So was I.
But we kept going.
Because this wasn't just about strength.
This was about proving it.
We clashed again.
He roared into my face—I slammed my forehead against his snout in response.
The shock made him reel.
I grabbed his horn, pulled him forward, and drove a knee into his neck.
He collapsed to one elbow.
I backed away, breathing hard, claws shaking from fatigue.
Hookfang pushed himself upright.
I saw it in his eyes.
The respect.
The surrender.
But also—the pride.
We stared.
Then—he bowed.
Wings folding.
Head pressed to the ground.
And the flames on his body went out.
Third Person Perspective
A hush fell over the arena.
Even the wind dared not move.
Hookfang, the Monstrous Nightmare, once wreathed in flame and fury, now knelt before the one he could not conquer. His head touched the earth, wings tucked in, breath low and submissive. His fire had died—not in defeat, but in respect.
Everyone saw it.
Everyone knew what it meant.
Hiccup didn't speak.
He didn't gloat.
He simply stood there, chest rising with deep, steady breaths. His armor was scorched, his cheek still marred from that single graze, his claws dripping with a mixture of sweat, soot, and blood—not all of it his own.
And he smiled.
Not a cruel grin.
Not a smirk.
Something calmer.
Deeper.
Then he turned slowly to face the crowd. His emerald eyes scanned the arena stands, locking with no one and yet seeing everyone.
And then—
He tilted his head back...
...and roared.
It was no cry of victory.
No celebration.
It was a claim.
A declaration that this land, this sky, this air—all of it—had heard him.
And obeyed.
It echoed through the cliffs.
It bounced off the walls.
It reached the sea and the mountains beyond.
Every human froze.
Warriors paled.
Children grabbed their parents.
Even Stoick, standing above all, swallowed hard as the sound struck his bones like a hammer.
Because that was not the roar of a man.
It was the roar of a king.
And only dragons understood the truth of it.
No others joined him.
Not even the Vanguard.
Because this was his moment.
Only one voice dared rise beside it.
A squeaky, high-pitched attempt at mimicry.
"RRROAARRR!!"
Everyone turned.
Freya.
She stood in the stands beside Luna and Astrid, fists clenched, eyes sparkling, doing her absolute best to match her papa's roar.
She failed spectacularly.
But she was beaming.
Luna blinked once—then smirked.
Astrid pressed her hand to her mouth to stop a laugh.
Hiccup paused.
Then chuckled.
The sound—so quiet after what had come before—rippled through the arena like sunlight cracking the storm.
His shoulders rose in amusement, claws retracting slightly as he gazed up at his daughter.
The terror lifted.
Just for a second.
And still—
No dragon roared with him.
Because none needed to.
One had bowed.
The others had witnessed.
The message was clear.
The Alpha didn't ask for loyalty.
He earned it.