Armageddon

Chapter 11: Born of Blood and Fire

Breaking from Maru's side, she and her two hunters joined together to take down their pursuers. Kiba flew at one and decapitated it with her claws, the flesh and bone tearing easily without much effort. However, the head was still alive and kept trying to attack by chomping its teeth at her face; the She-Wolf yipped and dashed away with her warriors.

Yet, the rest of the undead noted the call of their fallen comrade, and when Kiba saw the swarm rushing at her pack, she ordered her fighters to stand down. She swooped and helped Maru onto her back and ran as fast as she could while he grimaced from the pain. The undead suddenly hastened their pursuit, moving too quickly, easily closing the distance between the wolves, and the Aynu grew weary.

Maru soon toppled over after losing too much blood, and Kiba dove down and stood over him with her fangs bared, ready to fight. The rest of the pack joined her, and the Aynu huddled against the massive wave rushing towards them at full speed. The two alphas prepared for what they expected to be their final stance; Kiba wanted to remain by Maru's side until the end. The two wolves nuzzled their noses together and closed their eyes, preparing to enter Oblivion.

Suddenly, before the undead reached and swarmed the pack, a controlled green cloud of toxic venom plumed from the sky, consuming and disintegrating the undead creatures within seconds. Luckily, the wolves remained a safe enough distance from the lethal mist. When Kiba opened her eyes, she saw a black dragon with purple fins slithering down its spine sweeping overhead, spewing out an additional venomous blast, strafing one group after another. Aboard the dragon was a heavily armored rider wielding a revolver—a 'fire stick' per Kiba. The two killed the undead with ease.

"Lower, Aracania. Fire!" The dragon obeyed and steered herself over another horde with an exhaled cloud of acid and poison as her handler head-shot down a row of rotting corpses with quick and deadly precision. Meanwhile, the Aynu moved away from the dragon's attacks as the haze drifted closer. The wolves watched in both awe and fear as their new saviors swept through the abominations; concurrently, the Nidhoggr and its rider observed from a distance.

The new handler astride the venomous dragon eyed the remaining undead horde standing in horrifying silence as they waited for their ringleader. When the dragon, deemed Aracania, finished her onslaught, the Nidhoggr shrieked, ordering the rest of its herd to make haste towards the ruined elven city. Aracania snarled and almost gave chase but maintained her position aloft, hovering as she flapped forward and backward simultaneously. Kiba morphed into a human as Aracania landed among the pile of corpses; the She-Wolf stood before her injured mate to keep the strangers away.

Aracania was a rare species with venomous abilities, called the Aracania Venomtooth—hence the name. Her daintier and slender frame compared to dragons like Thor and Doragon made her more agile and acrobatic while airborne and was still strong enough to carry the weight of about fifteen fully grown men. Her sleek black hide gleamed against the sunlight, speckled with green and light purple flecks down her spine, dabbing the edges of her deep amethyst four-spined wings. Purple fins strung along her sharp spines down her back and tail, while her lean and narrow face was devoid of decorative spikes, save for two on her head and another set on her jaw corners. Each foot had three ivory claws, sharp enough to rip a man clean in half.

Her handler, a young gentleman in his twenties, belted his revolver. The dragon hissed, but the rider spoke in soft and gentle tones. "Easy, Aracania. Please, forgive us. I'm General Araneus Morleth, rider and handler of Aracania. We saw that you were in trouble while transporting supplies." Resembling more of an elf than his grandfather, Vidar Helios, his mother of pure blood and father with a watered-down bloodline, Araneus Morleth was considered the youngest war general in history. He wasn't as fair in complexion as most elves, but the alikeness was evident upon his narrow face; his maroon hair christened with silver streaks couldn't hide his pointed ears, nor his deep purple eyes.