The mansion shook with every step as Ryle and Thea rushed toward the altar.
The lingering stench of blood and magic filled the air, thick and suffocating.
At the center of the ruined hall—
Ignilth stood.
Majestic. Towering. Terrifying.
His obsidian-black scales gleamed under the dim light, and his golden eyes, once warm, burned with something unnatural.
A mixture of rage and sorrow.
Then—he spoke.
"Long time no see, Ryle."
Ryle's heart clenched.
The voice was exactly as he remembered.
The voice of the one who raised him.
Tears welled up in his eyes. He stepped forward, his voice shaking.
"I—"
BOOM!
Ryle barely dodged as Ignilth struck, claws slicing through the air like a hurricane.
What?!
Thea leaped back, her dual swords raised.
"Ryle, what the hell?!" she shouted. "He's attacking us!"
Ignilth's body trembled.
His golden eyes flickered, pain seeping through his monstrous form.
"I… am not in control."
His words were strained, like he was fighting something unseen.
Then—he lunged again.
Thea moved first, her dragon-infused speed turning her into a blur.
She slashed at Ignilth's wing joint, aiming to weaken his movement.
But—
CRASH!
Ignilth whipped his tail around, slamming Thea into the stone wall.
She gasped, pain exploding through her ribs as she collapsed to the ground.
"T-Thea!" Ryle called out.
Before he could move—
Another presence filled the hall.
A powerful gust of wind swept through the room as two figures landed nearby.
Dravenith and Sylvaris.
Sylvaris immediately rushed to Thea, placing his hands on her wounded body, healing energy radiating from his palms.
Ryle, still keeping his eyes on Ignilth, smirked.
"You're late, little brother."
Dravenith's eyes widened as he looked up at the dragon before him.
His voice shook.
"D…Dad?"
Ignilth roared, forcing Dravenith to instinctively shift into his human form, his dark cloak billowing as he dodged the next attack.
There was no doubt.
The dragon before them was their father.
But he was no longer himself.
Ryle took the lead.
His claws ignited with purple energy, his battle form fully activated.
Dravenith followed, his movements fluid, precise—like a true heir of dragons.
The two brothers fought in perfect sync, their attacks pushing Ignilth back.
Dravenith unleashed a burst of draconic energy, his palm striking Ignilth's underbelly with devastating force.
Ryle twisted midair, bringing his sword down toward Ignilth's throat—
But they hesitated.
Even now, Ryle couldn't bring himself to kill him.
Dravenith, too, faltered.
Ignilth's voice boomed through the chamber.
"DO IT!!"
But they still couldn't.
Then—
CRACK!
Ryle's sword shattered against Ignilth's scales.
The pieces scattered across the ground.
"Ryle!"
Ryle turned just in time to catch something flying toward him.
Thea's sword.
She grinned, blood dripping down her forehead.
"Use this!"
Hemlock Steel.
A divine material—one that could act as an exorcism tool.
Ryle gripped the blade tightly.
With one final leap, he drove the Hemlock sword into Ignilth's chest.
A deafening roar filled the mansion as the massive dragon collapsed.
Ryle and Dravenith ran toward his weakening body—