Chapter 36

  What. The. Hell!?

  I’d been through many insane, terrifying, or just plain absurd things since the curse inside me had awakened—but this... this was beyond them all.

  “Gravor! Explain yourself. Now! And tell me you’ve got nothing to do with this madness!”

  I growled the words in my thoughts, a fury surging through our telepathic link like a storm of wrath. It wasn’t just anger at him—it was anger at me. At my naivety. At my constant willingness to only question Gravor when it was already way too late. I had a demon inside me—a damned, ancient creature who clearly knew more about the world than any scholar of the great academies… and I’d treated him like some cynical, annoying roommate. How stupid could I be?

  Before I could sink deeper into my self-loathing, Gravor stirred. He responded—not irritated, not mocking. But with something like amused… regret?

  “How about I explain it to both of you?”

  His voice was still in my head, but suddenly... it sounded wider. As if it wasn’t just echoing in my mind, but spreading into the air itself.

  I wanted to interrupt—to stop him.

  “Wait! Gravor, what are you—”

  But he was already speaking.

  “Originally, I only wanted the paladin to pass on my regards, Ygrath.”

  A low, amused growl followed, thick and oily as it poured into my thoughts.

  “But I guess that plan’s done for. Let’s keep it short, old dragon.”

  He sounded like he was meeting an old acquaintance. An old enemy.

  A hated reflection.

  “You hate me. I hate you. Good—glad we cleared that up.”

  His voice allowed no argument.

  “I had nothing to do with your awakening. Nothing. On the contrary—I just want to help my new friend here get out of this frozen mess.”

  A beat of silence.

  Then Gravor said something that made me freeze. For the first time… I heard no sarcasm. No mask. No irony.

  “That you of all beings are the creature the Crytomancers summoned… is a twisted coincidence. A sad one. And maybe proof that the universe has a cruel sense of humor.”

  He fell silent. And for the first time, I felt him retreat. He withdrew into the shadows of my mind, like an actor leaving the stage. His voice grew fainter, now audible only to me:

  “Gravor. Out.”

  I wasn’t satisfied. Not even close.

  I had more questions than ever. And fewer answers than before.

  But Gravor was done—at least with talking.

  What he said next was… different.

  “And now, Luken…”

  He paused, dramatically, like a musician waiting for that perfect final note.

  “…go finish off this wannabe dragon.”

  Rage flared up inside me. At Gravor. At the Crytomancers. At that damned, freezing monster that had just risen from the earth like a god claiming our world. My grip tightened around the sword. Gravor’s black essence still pulsed along the blade—now stronger, ready to support me.

  And then…

  …Ygrath moved.

  Slowly, he lifted his massive head. His ice-blue eyes didn’t just fixate on me—they saw all of us: Vin, Simon, Maira, Gunnar. And yet I felt it—his gaze pierced straight into my soul.

  He saw me. Not as prey. Not as a tool. As an opponent.

  Then he spoke.

  “So be it.”

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  His voice was a rumble from the depths of time. Like glaciers cracking. Ice shattering deep in ancient mountains.

  I stepped forward. Shoulder to shoulder with the others, who had formed up during the exchange.

  Me—with a demon’s curse in my soul.

  And the icy death before me.

  “All right, Ygrath,” I murmured, “then let’s dance.”

  The moment I spoke the final words, Ygrath’s throat began to glow with a menacing blue. At first, it was just a pulse deep within his body, but then the light began to spread—it crept like liquid ice beneath his scaly skin, swirling along his neck, up to his maw, where it flashed behind his teeth like lightning in a gathering storm. A deadly glow. A promise.

  “Move!” Gunnar bellowed, his voice cutting through even the ominous rumble of the dragon.

  I yanked Simon to the right while the others instinctively leapt to the left—just as Ygrath reared back his head and unleashed a deafening, frost-filled roar. With it came a beam of pure ice. No snow, no mist—just focused, razor-sharp frost that sliced through the air like a laser. Wherever it struck the stone floor, thick layers of ice spread instantly, crawling across the surface with a sound like cracking bones.

  I felt the searing cold graze my cheek—and the terrifying realization of how quickly a single moment could turn someone into a statue. But we’d made it. Barely. By millimeters. But it was enough.

  Maira reacted first. She threw out her hand, and from her fingers burst flames—but not ordinary ones. Her magic took shape: white fire, forming into ghostly, shimmering skulls. They hissed through the air and slammed into Ygrath’s side with tremendous force. Where they struck, tiny cracks splintered across the dragon’s thick ice scales, as if they were burning the very molecules.

  Vin seized the opportunity. Her vines—thorny, alive, practiced—shot from the ground, wrapping around Ygrath’s front left leg and holding tight, like a massive green fist. The dragon pulled, wrenched—but Vin’s magic held him down—if only for a moment.

  Then Gunnar leapt. From a standstill, he soared several meters into the air—an insane jump, boosted by ancient fighting techniques and magic. With a war cry, he slammed his fist directly into the dragon’s snout. It hit like a meteor. Ygrath’s head jerked back, and his roar echoed through the chamber like thunder from another world.

  I was about to launch myself when I felt Simon’s hand on my arm—gentle, surprisingly so. I looked down at him.

  “We need to talk,” he whispered, and his gaze wasn’t angry, not disappointed—just concerned.

  Genuinely concerned.

  “When this is over.”

  I swallowed hard and nodded.

  Then I jumped.

  My wings snapped open with a jerk, throwing up air and dust as I pushed off the ground. It wasn’t graceful flight—not like birds or other creatures. It was chaotic, instinctual, and still... it felt like freedom. For a moment I left the battle behind, let the pain in my muscles and the chaos below fade.

  From up here, Ygrath looked... smaller. Not harmless—never. But manageable.

  It had to be said: for a dragon, he wasn’t actually the largest—he seemed almost young, freshly hatched. But the power burning inside him told another story. It was ancient. And not to be underestimated.

  Below, Maira had a lapse—her summoned skeletons missed their mark, and Ygrath seized the chance. His massive, spiked tail whipped around like a falling tree and struck her with full force. Her scream nearly tore my heart out—but Vin was fast. Her vines morphed in an instant into a net, catching Maira before she could slam into the wall.

  Gunnar roared, spun, and struck Ygrath from the side with rapid, brutal blows that shook even the flesh beneath his scales.

  I felt Gravor’s presence growing stronger again.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  “Make him bleed.”

  I gathered energy in my sword. Dark shadows curled along the blade, coating its golden light in a violet-black aura that trembled with power. Then I dove, steep and fast like a falling star, eyes locked on the dragon’s throat.

  I struck with all I had. The blade didn’t go deep—but it went in. And that was all I needed. A glowing black fissure opened along his neck. Gravor’s essence burned the flesh from within.

  Ygrath roared.

  Not a normal roar—it was a sound that shook walls. A noise that pierced bone and soul. The air itself vibrated. The dome trembled. And the others—Simon, Maira, Vin, Gunnar—had to cover their ears, the sound was so intense.

  I almost lost control. The sheer force tore at me like invisible claws. Only my wings—flapping instinctively—kept me from crashing. I staggered back, gasping, my whole body trembling.

  But I’d wounded him.

  Even if only a little.

  I pushed off from the sky, let myself drop, gliding just above the ever more shattered floor of the dome. Wind whipped past my face, my wings beat steadily as my eyes searched feverishly—for something. A weakness. A flaw in the perfect shield of scales. Every creature had one. Somewhere. An unguarded spot. A scar. A seam in nature's armor. But Ygrath... was flawless. As if born from a nightmare painting. His silver-blue scales overlapped like ice itself, every inch of his hide a single, seamless plate of ancient frost.

  I flew closer, circling tightly, trying to take advantage of every angle, using each of the others’ attacks as a distraction. Maybe under the jaw? Between the wing joints? Where were the damn nerve points!?

  But I thought for too long.

  Some instinct warned me. That sharp sensation that freezes your neck just before the pain hits. I jerked my head—too late.

  Ygrath had crouched, arched his neck sideways, chest muscles tensed. His eyes locked onto me—icy, ancient, lethal. The blue shimmer returned. This time it wasn’t a faint glow, but a blazing core of concentrated destruction building beneath his scales, flaring up like the heart of a star on the brink of explosion.

  Then it erupted.

  A torrent. Not a beam—it was as if someone had forged the North Wind into a blade. The icy breath surged toward me like an unleashed god. I wanted to dodge. I wanted to shout something. But my wings only twitched helplessly, my body reacting too slow. The world turned white in that instant.

  A white that devoured everything.

  Not the brilliant white of light. But the dead white of snow that smothers life before it can begin. I felt no cold—only emptiness. The air around me grew heavy as lead. My skin tightened, nearly cracked. My eyes burned, my lips split open. The magic around me froze, grew sluggish, as if even it was being caught in the storm.

  I felt a sheet of ice form over my arms. My wings froze, turned stiff—I lost control. The impact came without warning.

  I slammed into the ground. Hard. Rolled across icy stone, hearing the crunch of my own breath turning into crystals. My heart pounded loud, slow, as if it were resisting the freeze.

  I was still alive.

  Barely.

  But Ygrath was already rising again—the blue glow returning.

  One more hit like that… and it would be over.