A different battle was being fought in the sky.
Ragnar was still standing on the back of the wyvern, his body covered in cuts and burns, but the smile never left his face.
—"Come on, let's finish this!" — he roared, gripping his sword with both hands.
The wyvern suddenly twisted, flapping its wings and creating a gust of wind. Ragnar barely held on. It tried to throw him off again, but this time he was ready.
But suddenly, it plunged straight down. The wind howled in his ears, and gravity dragged Ragnar with it. He didn't have time to react — the impact with the ground was inevitable!
THUD!
Ragnar and the wyvern crashed into the earth together. The shockwave rippled outward, lifting dust and debris into the air. For a moment, everything froze in chaotic disarray.
Ragnar breathed heavily, trying to rise, but his body refused to obey. His bones ached, blood trickled down his arm.
The wyvern slowly lifted its head. Its burning eyes locked onto him. It shook its head violently, as if trying to clear its disorientation, and then its gaze fixed on his vulnerable form.
A sudden jerk!
The wyvern clamped its jaws around his shoulder. CRUNCH!
The armor cracked, and its fangs pierced through his body, shattering bones. Pain shot through every nerve. Ragnar screamed!
—"Aaaaargh!!"
Blood sprayed onto the ground. His vision blurred. She crushed him...
But this pain ignited the final spark of rage within him!
Ragnar grabbed the hilt of his sword. The wyvern lifted him off the ground, its teeth biting harder. He could feel his life slipping away slowly.
But he would not give up.
Summoning his last strength, he thrust his sword upward. His hands trembled, but he managed.
—"YOU… YOU WILL DIE WITH ME!" — he roared, driving his sword straight into its skull.
The blade went up from beneath, piercing its jaw, passing through its tongue, breaking the bone, and exiting between its horns.
The wyvern's eyes widened. Its body shuddered. Its jaws loosened, releasing Ragnar. He fell.
Hard. Motionless.
The wyvern took one final wheezing breath, its massive body swayed, and then crashed to the ground. It moved no more.
Dead.
Lenor, sensing the moment, quickly glanced over.
—"Ragnar?!"
He saw him motionless on the ground. Blood dripped down his torn armor, mixing with the dust. Lenor tensed — he was still alive, but not for long.
His fingers gripped the hilt of his sword even tighter.
—"If I don't end this fight now…" — he whispered to himself.
His gaze shifted to the demon.
The demon was already smiling.
—"The wyvern's poison…" — he said mockingly. — "He's doomed."
Lenor said nothing.
But now, he was more focused than ever.
The fight had to end. Right here. Right now.
Lenor stepped forward. Pain pulsed through his muscles, the wounds on his body burned like fire, but he ignored it all. He saw nothing but the demon standing before him, and the blood dripping down his friend's face.
—"Faster," — he muttered to himself, gripping the sword's hilt even tighter. — "If I slow down, he'll die."
The demon stretched his lips into a sinister grin.
—"Lenor, do you feel it?" — his voice was calm, but laced with venomous mockery. — "Time is not on your side. Every second you hesitate brings your friend closer to death."
Lenor didn't listen. His body moved on its own.
BAM!
A moment — and he was already in front of the demon. His sword soared through the air, leaving a white trail that cut through the darkness. Instincts. Pure battle.
The demon merely smiled.
The blade shattered against his defenses.
Lenor felt something cold press against his chest. Then — a sharp pain!
The demon's black blade sank into his side. The warmth of his blood spread across his abdomen.
He was losing control.
Lenor stumbled back, barely staying on his feet. The pain made it hard to breathe, and everything before his eyes blurred.
No! Not now!
—"Why so fast?" — the demon took another step forward. — "I want you to feel what true helplessness is."
Lenor lowered his gaze to his side. The poison, mixed with dark magic, spread through his body, causing spasms. His reactions were slowing down.
What to do?
His gaze slid toward Ragnar. His friend still lay motionless, his chest rising and falling heavily.
If he falls now — it's all for nothing.
Lenor lifted his eyes.
The decision was made.
—"So, bastard… you want to stick your black dagger in me? Come on. I'll let you… But I'll take your life."
The demon stopped.
—"What?" — his voice suddenly grew colder.
Lenor allowed himself to straighten just a little. His body burned, his lungs screamed in pain, but he could still make one final move.
The demon lunged forward.
His black dagger sliced through the air with lightning speed!
It aimed directly at Lenor's heart!
Hissing magic. Pain. A sharp blow.
The blade entered his body… but not where the demon expected.
Lenor leaned forward, allowing the blade to pass through his abdomen, but at the same time, he plunged his sword into the demon's chest!
Flames erupted along the blade, tearing through the demon's dark flesh. The demon's eyes widened. His fingers twitched, and his lips parted, trying to say something...
But it was too late.
The fire began devouring him from the inside.
—"This can't be..." — his voice trembled. — "You can't..."
His body jerked, the darkness tried to pull itself together, but Lenor twisted the sword, and the fire tore the demon apart.
A loud explosion of light.
The darkness dissolved.
The demon no longer existed.
On the ground lay two yellow crystals — one where the wyvern had fallen, the other near the demon's ashes. They flickered with a faint light, filled with pure mana. Lenor breathed heavily, but he knew — this wasn't the end.
Lenor staggered. His wounds were pulling the life from him, blood running down, but he wouldn't let himself fall. His fingers found the amulet relic of his people around his neck. His last hope.
"Help me… give me the strength to reach the city," — he whispered, clutching the amulet in his hand.
Warmth spread through his body, not healing him, but giving him the final surge of life.
He moved forward slowly, almost collapsing with each step, but he didn't stop. His hand touched Ragnar's shoulder.
—"Friend, we need to get back... or we're doomed," — he whispered, dropping to his knees.
Ragnar opened one eye, gasped for air, and though it hurt, he said with a smile:
—"Just like the old days…"
Lenor smiled faintly. He lifted his friend and helped him lean on him. Their bodies no longer obeyed, but they moved forward.
Ahead, beyond the forest, the first light of the sun appeared.
They had won.