Omega's Rebirth-Chapter 923: A Promise ()

Snow fell steadily, painting the ruins of Ebonhollow in a sparse layer of white, a reluctant, yet unspoken declaration that winter had lurked long enough.

A frigid wind wafted by, leaving an icy chill in its wake.

Neveah stood at the highest point of the witch ruins, staring ahead. And the massive forlorn army, a sea of hideous beasts of all kinds and sizes, from great to small, stared right back.

While Imagor and Kirgan had led the second squadron, the mages and the tributary races to confront the invading main army,

The forlorn army that had traveled under cover of magic had finally made itself known on their rear.

They had hoped to ambush them on all sides, catch them off guard. Jian had anticipated it. And so they had taken up guard here, waiting.

It was ironic. She’d been here before. Once, in Asrig’s writings.

She stood right at this highest point, staring down at a city that slept, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that was soon to befall them.

Unaware, that their race was soon to be just a tale told at bedsides. A piece of a long gone history.

They had not the slightest inclination that centuries after the fall of their great race, an army of forlorn would invade the stronghold, marching over the ruins of their homes and palaces.

Of their corpses buried beneath the rubble, cruelly preserved in a perfection that counted for nothing.

Because death was neither beautiful, nor hideous. It was simply... death.

If they had known then, that this terrible army that treaded the ruins of their homes, would be led by a man who called himself the incarnate of the very King that had ordered the destruction of their race, would they have extended the same kindness they had, back then?

Or would they have left him to die in the hands of the assassins that hunted him?

Neveah didn’t know. It was difficult to predict the choices people would make if they knew what the future held. If they had even the slightest inclination of what their choices would result in.

If an act of kindness ultimately spared the life of a cruel monster who then went on to wreck havoc, did that make blind acts of kindness an evil in itself?

Could one be blamed for failing to recognize evil in the guise of man?

There he was.

Mykael...Asrig, whoever was the true soul hidden beneath.

He was merely a silhouette in the distance, but Neveah could still make out his features. He was just like Neveah remembered from that night on Mount Edar. A man, yet a beast.

Stuck in some phase of partial shift between dragon and man. Horns sprouted out his head, curving inward towards themselves. Scaled wings stretched from his shoulder blades.

Some say it was a curse. Some say he had gone wild like Xenon had. That the loss of his King had ruined him irreparably. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

Maybe none of these rumors were true. Or perhaps they all were.

But without those features, he was a man. Four limbs like any other.

Mykael, the enemy in the shadows had finally come to the light.

And he had not come empty handed.

With the soul of the greatest tyrant the stronghold had ever known since the Dark Lord, now living within that body.

And a mount that the dragon lords of the first squadron recognized instantly.

"Orin..." Neveah’s voice trembled.

Orin’s rusty scales stood out like a sore thumb, as he hovered at the lead of the forlorn army. The great metal cuffs around his neck emitted a shadowy mist, and a saddle strapped over his back subdued him to a mount in captivity.

And it was in that Neveah knew, and needed no other confirmation, that he who had subdued his own kin in such a degrading manner, was in fact, Asrig.

The Dragon Killer.

Her hands clenched tightly, rage curled in the pit of her stomach and an intense urge to kill overwhelmed her.

Jian has fallen quiet since they had come to face the forlorn army. The same could be said for Cassian and the rest of the dragon lords of the first squadron.

Neveah knew without needing to ask, that they had also come to the same conclusion that she had.

Asrig had returned. Cassian and the Fae were right.

No one attempted to break the somber air that dawned, as they watched a comrade and kin subjected to a state that was a horrifying reminder of their dreadful past.

"Send me out there." Cassian snarled through gritted teeth, "I will take his head!"

Jian didn’t respond. He didn’t so much as acknowledge Cassian. Like he was stuck in a daze that he could not break out of.

The savage roar of a great orc, signalled the enemy had begun their charge. The daze shattered then. Jian’s expression turned cold, unreadable.

Three dozen orcs charged across the runes, led by five great orcs.

"Cassian... clear me a path to him." Jian ordered.

The forlorn army numbered to nearly a thousand and there were barely three dozen dragon lords on the first squadron.

But these battle lords were the finest of their kin. And the sight of their kin in bondage had filled them with a righteous rage seeking an outlet.

Whatever Asrig had hoped to achieve with this, perhaps force Jian to falter. Or weaken the morale of the dragon lords...he had achieved the exact opposite.

Neveah swore to herself that it would become his greatest regret.

Their overwhelming numbers...mattered little.

Cassian didn’t hesitate. Launching himself off the cliff, he surged into the air and dozens of dragon lords followed him.

Jian’s eyes met hers, and she nodded once.

"We’ll face him together." She said firmly, "And we will kill him."

She stepped back to give him the space she needed and Jian shifted, his golden scales caught the sunlight and reflected it in a myriad of colors.

Neveah mounted with the ease of expertise, settling on his back.

"Whatever happens out there..." Jian’s warm voice filled her mind, "Promise me, that you will prioritize your safety."

Neveah leaned down till her forehead grazed the hard scales around his neck.

"You live. I live." She thought back, "You die. I die."