"Old friend... we can't retreat any further..." The knight clad in silver armor spoke weakly.
"This accursed Middle-earth!" The battle-worn silver dragon let out a sigh.
"I wonder how far the Alliance army has advanced..." Dragon Knight Marshal Osbaya muttered anxiously.
"We just need to hold off these damned Nazgûl!" The silver dragon growled. Born of noble lineage, he had never wanted to shed blood for the human race.
But his bonded partner was a human knight, and through their sacred contract, he had no choice but to fight. For the contract! For the brotherhood that bound their fates!
"We've fought our way across more than half of Middle-earth. Now, only Mordor remains. It's time to end this tyrant once and for all! He is a demon on par with Morgoth himself!" Osbaya tried to rally his companion's morale.
"Oh, very well, my friend. For the sake of our friendship, I shall fight alongside you!" The silver dragon rolled his enormous eyes before twisting his wings in a carefree arc, diving down with a roar of wind trailing behind him.
"What are you doing?!" Osbaya was momentarily stunned, unable to comprehend his dragon's sudden action.
"Finding a town to grab a bite to eat. I haven't eaten in months! I'm going to devour three whole roasted cows! No—five! I assume you'll be covering the cost?" The silver dragon stated haughtily.
"By the gods! You really can eat!" Osbaya shrugged helplessly from the saddle.
"Of course. If you're unwilling to pay, I can always pluck off a few of my scales to cover the bill!" The silver dragon quipped gleefully.
"Forget it, I'll pay!" Osbaya decided without hesitation.
"Time flies... In the blink of an eye, a century has passed. You've become a full-grown silver dragon, and I have risen to the rank of a Sixth-Tier Hero. We've spent our lives chasing the darkness, fighting against it. This time, I hope for lasting peace." Osbaya reflected, his voice carrying the weight of time and nostalgia.
"Indeed. When I first met you and saved you, I knew you were destined to be my brother, my friend, my knight! Fate bound us together!" The silver dragon, flying low, turned his massive head, his brilliant eyes filled with warmth.
"I am grateful that you saved me from those marauders. Pity you arrived too late... otherwise, our village would not have been destroyed..." Osbaya's voice was calm, but anyone could hear the sorrow within it.
"Hey, brother, promise me this: once this war is over, find yourself a woman and have a child. Then let's go to Dragon Isle! We'll live a peaceful life, away from the troubles of the world. My kin will welcome you! After a century of war, you owe nothing more to the human race." The silver dragon said earnestly.
"But in the end, I am still human..." Osbaya sighed.
"Below us is River Running. Let's land there!" Osbaya patted the silver dragon's back. Below them, a small, rustic town flickered with dim lights—what would one day become the Kingdom of Dale.
"Alright!" The silver dragon vanished into the shadows, reappearing in the distant forest in an instant.
"Come on! Take me to some good food!" The dragon shrank down into a tiny, coiled form and wrapped himself around Osbaya's wrist.
"Hey, buddy! You look just like a silver bracelet!" Osbaya swung his arm excitedly.
"If you keep swinging me around, I'm going to stomp on you!" The dizzy silver dragon grumbled.
"Gods above! You really can eat! You devoured twenty whole sheep!" Osbaya exclaimed as he walked out of River Running with his contented dragon.
"Alright, my mistake. But as my knight, isn't it your duty to feed me?" The silver dragon bared his sharp white teeth in a grin.
"Let's go. We still have to reach Mordor. It's time to end this once and for all!" Osbaya's eyes shone with a cold light.
"I doubt Mordor's Orcs are any tougher than the ones from the North!" The silver dragon snorted, releasing a puff of white mist onto Osbaya's face.
With a resonant roar, the silver dragon's massive body reappeared, and Osbaya grabbed the reins on the saddle, swiftly mounting his back.
"After this battle, peace shall reign! The human race shall rise again!" Osbaya's gaze burned with determination.
"As you wish, my knight!" The silver dragon rumbled.
Suddenly—
Boom! Like thunder splitting the sky, a fiery figure lashed out at the silver dragon.
"A Balrog?! Impossible! They should have all perished in the War of Wrath!" Osbaya's eyes widened in fury. Five Balrogs stood before him! When did these catastrophe-class monsters become so common, appearing like mere cabbages at a market?
Crack! The Balrog in the rear slammed its flaming staff against the ground, sending tendrils of eerie red energy wrapping around the silver dragon's leg. The dragon immediately realized something was wrong and tried to teleport away, only to find his leg bound tightly.
"Damn it! Spatial lock! They're here specifically for us!" The silver dragon roared in anger. Unable to escape, he turned and slashed with razor-sharp claws imbued with spatial blades, tearing into one Balrog's chest and spilling molten blood.
"Kill! For the honor of the knight!" Osbaya's pupils turned blood-red as he entered battle mode.
His ten-meter-long dragon lance smashed a towering Balrog aside with staggering force.
SHINK! The lance pierced through another Balrog's chest, its fiery essence flickering and dimming.
ROAR! The dragon's breath engulfed their foes, even the mighty Balrogs recoiling from the sheer force of the spatial tempest.
"Find a way to break the spatial lock! We can't stay here!" Osbaya's eyes were bloodshot. No one could withstand the onslaught of five Balrogs at once, and with the silver dragon's teleportation disabled, their situation was dire.
The flaming lashes struck, shattering even the dragon's magically resistant scales. Silver fragments scattered to the ground.
"Armor-piercing attacks!" Osbaya's expression darkened. Without his formidable dragon-scale defense, they were doomed.
"Void Shatter!" The silver dragon roared, unleashing a forbidden spatial spell. The very air around him cracked like shattered glass, consuming one unlucky Balrog within its reach.
The Balrog howled as its molten blood splattered everywhere, its lower body completely obliterated by the raw power of space.
Osbaya's dragon lance speared through its skull, snuffing out the creature's hellish light.
"A divine weapon!" The remaining Balrogs hesitated, stepping back. Only an artifact of immense power could so swiftly slay a creature with such potent regenerative abilities.
"Hah! At least you have sharp eyes. This lance is called The Chant of Ten Thousand Dragons—a dragon-forged artifact!" Osbaya's face twisted into a savage grin.
"None of you are leaving here today!" His battle aura surged, ready to fight to the bitter end.
Four flaming whips lashed out, striking the dragon's body. Scales flew. Blood rained.
"They're too difficult to handle! We can't break through!" The battle had raged for nearly a full day. The silver dragon, his scales tattered, panted heavily.
"Do we still have a chance?" Osbaya glanced at the four remaining Balrogs, equally scarred but keeping a safe distance from his weapon, wary of its divine power.
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