Page 88 of Lord of the Lone Wolf
Maseo staggered, the sound vibrating through his very core. He looked up in horror as creatures emerged from the swirling clouds, their forms a nightmarish amalgamation of bone and sinew. They had the general shape of dragons, but where scales should have been, exposed ribs gleamed white. Tattered wings stretched from bony spines, the membranes torn and decayed, while empty eye sockets and their souls burned with the same malevolent fire.
“Necrowings,” Drayden breathed in shock. “Their necromancer has raised necrowings.”
The skeletal dragons circled above the battlefield, their jawbones opening wide to release another terrible scream. Fire dripped from their maws, sizzling like acid where it hit the ground.
A flash of silver drew Maseo’s attention to the center of the Valzerna lines. Before Maseo’s eyes, Kitsuki transformed into a massive dragon. Pearlescent white scales gleamed in the sunlight as he spread enormous wings, each beat sending gusts of wind across the battlefield. Silver magic crackled around his jaws as he launched himself into the air, a creature of light and power in stark contrast to the necrowings that circled above.
Jaega underwent his own transformation, shifting into a massive orange dragon with black markings. He joined Kitsuki, already breathing fire as he rose to meet the threat.
More dragon shifters transformed, and the sky became a second battlefield as they clashed with skeletal abominations in a terrifying display of power. Flames of various colors met the green fire of the necrowings, illuminating the darkened sky with flashes of light that rivaled lightning.
Maseo watched, transfixed, as Kitsuki engaged the first of the necrowings. They clashed in midair, a blur of white and bone, silver magic and green fire creating a dazzling display against the darkened sky. The dragon king was magnificent as he battled the undead creature.
A flicker of green light in his peripheral vision was Maseo’s only warning. He spun, raising his sword to block a strike from a lichen that had approached while distracted by the aerial battle. The impact jarred his arm, reminding him of his own fight.
“Focus on what’s in front of you,” Sudryl called, engaging another lichen nearby. “Let His Majesty handle the necrowings.”
Maseo nodded, turning his full attention to the skeleton before him. As much as he wanted to watch Kitsuki’s battle, he knew Sudryl was right. He had his own fight to win.
Each victory brought Maseo a step closer to confronting the man who had made his life a living nightmare. Somewhere in that obsidian castle, Nasume waited for him. And when the time came, Maseo would be ready to face him and end the cycle of abuse once and for all.
But first, he had a battlefield to clear so the undead could return to their rightful rest in the Beyond Realm.
Chapter 31
Kitsuki
With his massive wings, Kitsuki soared through the sky, cutting through the air as he climbed higher above the battlefield. The transformation had been instinctive, his dragon form responding to the threat before his conscious mind processed what he was witnessing. Now, as he faced the nightmarish creatures circling above Norello Castle, a primal fear stirred within him.
Necrowings. The word echoed through him with ancient dread. They were things he had only read about in the oldest texts of the Necromancer War, a conflict that had ended centuries before his birth. The reality was far more horrifying than any description could convey.
They were profane mockeries of draconic majesty. Each massive frame kept the shape of a dragon but stripped of all dignity in death. Hollow eye sockets housed writhing green flames that flickered with malevolent awareness. An orb pulsated where a heart should be, serving as proof of a soul bound toa necromancer’s will, its essence powering the abomination’s unnatural existence.
The rotted remnants of wing membranes should not have supported flight, yet the necrowings moved with fluid grace through the air, defying both physics and decency. Their vertebrae flexed with obscene suppleness as they banked and turned, the bones clicking and grinding against each other with every movement.
A necrowing broke from the circling formation, its skull pivoting on its spine with a sickening crack as it fixed its burning gaze on Kitsuki. It opened its jaw, unhinging it to an impossible width before releasing a sound that was not a roar but a cacophony of agonized screams, as though dozens of souls cried out through a single throat.
The creature dove toward him, bony talons extended. Kitsuki banked, his pearlescent scales gleaming in the sunlight as he evaded the attack. The necrowing’s claws passed within inches of his wing, close enough to fill his nostrils with the scent of death.
Kitsuki countered, gathering his magic to release it in a concentrated stream that struck the necrowing’s left wing. Ice formed around the tattered membrane, the sudden weight disrupting its flight path and sending it into an uncontrolled spiral.
Taking advantage of the necrowing’s vulnerability, Kitsuki plunged hard, closing the distance between them with breathtaking speed. His claws extended, silver magic gathering around his talons as he aimed for the soul in the skeletal chest.
The necrowing twisted in midair, its spine contorting in ways no living dragon could achieve. Despite its half-frozen state, itevaded Kitsuki’s strike, bony claws raking across his flank as they passed each other.
Pain flared along Kitsuki’s side where the necrowing’s talons had found gaps between his scales. The wounds began healing almost immediately, his draconic regeneration sealing the injuries, but the attack served as a stark reminder that the creatures were dangerous despite their decayed appearance.
Kitsuki wheeled around, his eyes tracking the necrowing as it regained control of its flight. The ice on its wing cracked, the necromantic magic burning through to break free of its frozen prison.
He didn’t give it the chance to recover. Kitsuki gathered his power once more, focusing it into a tight beam of intense cold. The concentrated ice magic struck the necrowing’s rib cage, freezing the bones around the glowing soul. Before the necromantic energy could counteract the effect, Kitsuki slammed into the frozen skeleton, the impact shattering both ice and bone.
His claws closed around the exposed soul, silver magic flowing from his talons into the trapped essence. The orb pulsed against his grip, the green light fighting against his attempts to sever its connection to the necromantic energy. They locked in a magical struggle, neither yielding.
Then, with a sound like shattering crystal, the soul broke free. The green flame dissolved, replaced by a white radiance that rose from the broken skeleton like mist. Released from its torment, the soul ascended toward the sky before fading from view, returning at last to the Beyond Realm.
Kitsuki had no time to savor his victory. More necrowings circled above, their burning green eyes fixed on him with malevolent intent. Below, his army continued to battle against wolf shifters and skeletal lichen warriors.
A flash of orange flame caught his attention. Jaega had engaged two necrowings, his massive form a blur of orange and black as he unleashed fire magic against the undead dragons. Unlike Kitsuki, Jaega had faced these creatures before, during the Necromancer War centuries ago. His attacks were precise and efficient, targeting the souls rather than wasting energy on the skeletal frames.
