Dragonborn Saga

Chapter 761: Warriors (2)

ANNOUNCEMENT: I have been delaying this long enough now, but I think the situation needs to be addressed. I am starting a campaign to edit most of the old Chapters, starting from chapter 1, BUT not on . The problem is that if I edited a single paragraph on , I'd lose its comment, and those early Paragraph Comments are the most important thing to me since I am an attention whore. Losing comments hurts me more than leaving the novel unedited. That's how much I love comments, guys. So, I decided to try to edit up to 10 Chapters per day and publish them on other platforms, namely Scribble Hub, Fanficition.net, and Royal Road (when they give permission).

These edits would be conducted by AI and Grammarly mostly since reading 10 chapters, but sometimes I find myself reading and editing by hand, especially those cringy Chinese and Japanese phrases I was addicted to back in the day (SO EMBARRASSING!!!). So if you want to do a brand new re-read, you now know where to find the good stuff.

Oh... and comments, guys. I don't need money, just comments!

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🎵 From Dust! 🎵

*RUMBLE!*

The dragon's bombardment never ceased as the warriors of Winterhold swarmed in an epic frenzy toward the aggressors. It was the final push, and everyone on both sides knew whoever endured this clash would be the ultimate winner.

The spirits of the humans were strong against such draconian odds. They were swarmed with undead, monsters, and daedric horrors, yet they withstood it all.

But behind the lines of warriors, a great deal of suffering ensued. The burning houses of the innocents had their people running for the wells to douse the flames with water. All the snow had long since melted, and it felt as if that day was in the middle of summer.

Amidst all the unfortunate were the children who could not find their way home as the attacks started. All those who could be hidden were helped by the locals into their houses and cellars, along with the women and the elderly. Still, not everyone had a shelter ready, and most prioritised their own and sealed their homes behind their loved ones, ignoring the tragedies of others.

Those who live in Saarthal follow Jon into his new city, knowing full well the dangers and risks that may come their way from all the enemies that want to stop his progress. They were all brave men and women who chose the side of good and took a bet on the fate of the Dragonborn. Yet at the end of the day, they were all men and mer. While they had strong men and women who could fend off monsters and fight for their lives, there were also the defenseless among them: the young and the elderly.

Among these masses, one particular child was hiding under the broken part of a roof, hoping the rubble would not crumble and bury him, yet fearing to go out and face the monstrosities roaming the streets. Before the attack, he was going home after coming from the temple's school with his friends, dreaming of a day they would become warriors or mages like the legendary heroes who lived in Saarthal's great tower.

Yet there was a teaching always passed on by the old to the young in Saarthal, a phrase that was meant to set them straight with reality and not make them run headstrong into danger. It says, "Horrors forge Heroes," and it was inscribed on the back of shields so everyone could contemplate it when they faced something mighty.

That phrase made the young heart of that child tremble whenever he thought of what he faced that day. His small training shield was dented from a blow it took, and the boy felt the might of that daedric creature that hit him still echoing through his young bones.

His father was given the name Hefty-Hand, a warrior of the Dare Troopers whose fist was said to be able to fell a wall and break a boulder, but also generous and fair with others. He took pride in that, but he also knew that he was not his father.

His father taught him not to be brave but to be generous, for a close-fisted man would never know how to sacrifice what he has for others, let alone himself.

That is how he was taught to be brave.

But in action, however, facing one's fears was a whole different matter. If only he could fight like the grown-ups do, if only he were a tad bit taller, stronger, or knew how to lift a heavy blade.

Just as he thought of that, he looked at his hand as he held a small sword that was gifted to him; the only blood such a blade tasted was that one time he clumsily cut himself with it, but now, it is all he ever has when push comes to shove.

So... should he just stay here in the safety he found... or should he rise with the thirteen years of life he has and go carve himself an adventure in this world?

It is better to stay safe, so of course, he should stay.

But adventure... that is not something people go to; it is something that calls for people, and just now, it called for him.

Not a few metres away from where he was hiding, he saw a woman running, then an arrow flew past her, grazing her arm. She panicked, fell on her knees, looked behind her, and started crawling up with fright visible on her face.

From where he was, he could not see what she saw, but a few seconds later, a dark humanoid marched towards her, red and black skin, making strange noises as if it were an infernal language, and moving frantically.

A Dremora Churl! A daedric scourge from the bowels of Oblivion.

In its hand, it had a spiked blade, and as it approached the woman, it screamed in ecstasy, declaring the slaughter its fiendish mind was lusting over.

🎵 Will come... when you will have to rise 🎵

Adventure called, and at that second, a young adventurer rose from under the rubble, charged the churl from behind, and drove his blade into the churl's side. ŕἈ𝐍Ö₿ĘṤ

The churl's body stiffened from the unseen attack, and it staggered to its knees as the woman kept screaming and retreating; she could see a young man standing behind the fallen demon just as scared as she was, but his fear drove him up and pushed him forward.

The young boy was triumphant, but for a second, a new type of fear washed his young heart, fear mixed with excitement, combined with a strange sensation of power surging from his heart and flowing through his veins.

He could do it... after all that training, after all that preparation, he could...

"Oh no!"

It seemed that he could not.

That Dremora he just stabbed with his puny blade slowly got up, holding the blade by the hilt, and pulling it out.

Black blood gushed out from the wound, but as the churl turned, it was grinning viciously with its pesky face with malice all over it. It even licked the blood off the blade, slurping it as if it was screeching, causing the short-lived victory to turn into full-blown dread.

As our young adventurer took a step back, the woman on the other side of the Churl helped herself up before running for dear life.

As for the Dremora Churl, it struck the young boy with his blade, but the latter had the reflexes of a true cat lover and put his shield between himself and the blade.

He remembered the most important lesson that he was taught: "Never put your shield down!"

*Stab!*

He could see the blade bearing through the wooden body of the shield. He did not know how he managed to withstand the strike, but he was still standing, somehow!

What comes next is what his father trained him the most in: "Whatever happens, the shield stays between you and what is trying to kill you."

No matter how many times he was hit, how many times he was lifted and tossed around, how many times he was pulled by his shield, he should never put his shield away... ever.

🎵 Above the best and prove yourself... Your spirit never dies 🎵

Such stubbornness was key to surviving the fray of battle. His tenacity was everything he could put on the line as the Dremora Churl unleashed everything it had on him.

But after a long struggle, both sides grew weary; the Dremora Churl's pride was hurt, unable to kill a single human child, and the child's arm felt like hell as he was no longer able to lift it.

Then...

"Oh, God!"

A huge shadow covered the sky as the world darkened all of a sudden, where they were. The two looked up as a dragon flew above them, majestically spreading its wind, and for a second there, both child and churl had similar expressions and matching fears... if that dragon was breathing flames as it flew by, it would be game over for the two of them, at least the churl would be banished back to Oblivion but with dragonfire grilling its ass, it will be painful for years.

Yet as the Dragon was flying, it seemed to be trying to manoeuvre because of someone, and right at that second, a red blur crossed by its neck, and a crisp clashing sound was heard as if something hit the dragon's neck but was still deflected.

The blur landed on the edge of the building right beside them, and right at that moment, the most beautiful woman in the whole world was seen. The young heart of our young adventurer was mesmerised by the sight of the High Priestess of Kyne, despite every instinct in his being telling him to move right at this instant.

He sprang up, and just at that moment, the Dragon struck with its tail towards Alina, who teleported somewhere else, but still, the building was hit, and a chunk of it flew towards the street.

Opportunity!

That last, most important point he was taught: "Persevere until Opportunity!"

His head worked fast, he found an opening, and with his shield positioned ahead of him, he charged the Dremora Churl with every last bit of power left in him.

Losing its footing, the Churl could not be any less prepared for a charge taken at a perfect timing and was pushed back against the building.

But what of it? The Churl thought... except the world starting to tighten around it all of a sudden... and then...

*Collapse!*

The young adventurer barely managed to jump out of the way as tons of debris fell and rolled through the street.

Beneath them, the Churl was buried, and only its hand appeared holding the child's blade.

This was it... It is the same feeling his father told him about how victory comes, the first one at least. A stroke of luck it may have been, somewhat felt a little bit underserved, but it was a victory nonetheless.

Now... he could finally fall to his knees... it was intense, but his blood was flowing hot and made him shiver once his hand touched the cold ground.

"Not yet!"

He felt the calling and stood back up, he walked to the Churl, and as he clawed his blade from its hands, the last bit of life in the daedric fiend disappeared along with its corporeal form, and it was successfully banished.

Now? If he were to stay here, it would not be safe. Minor monsters like this one roam the streets away from the fight to hunt the weak. He, who is also weak, should not fight alone.

He must join up with someone. If he thinks about it, the closest he is to danger will be the safest. All the strong warriors are on the front, and they will emerge victorious sooner or later, so it is they who will keep him safe, and if they fall, everyone in the city will be slain anyway.

So...

Just before he rethought his reckless decision, he looked to the place where he was hiding under some rubble, and what he saw made him rethink everything. That large chunk of the building that was hit by the dragon's tail, most of it was right above that place, completely sitting above it, tons and tons of stones pressing on top of each other.

Looking at it, he felt terrified. If he were not brave enough to go and fight, he would have been squished down like a bug.

It all made sense now. The road to life is not to shy away from death, it is to face it and look it in the eye and tell it without fear: Not Today!

🎵 Farewell, I've gone to take my throne above 🎵

He knew where he should go next, turned his back to where people would run, and faced the direction from which his enemies came.

If he was going to live and see tomorrow, he would do so by clawing through monsters.

He rushed, knowing exactly where the fight was, a short blade in his right hand, a shield in his left, full of vigour and ready to fight.

Once he reached the western plaza, he saw the big clash, but it daunted him not. The monsters broke the city gate, the defenders retreated to the walls of the buildings around the plaza to fight in tighter areas, mages were unleashing hell on monsters if they came in large groups, and archers were covering the city wall from the back so that the battlements did not get flooded.

Those who could bear shields and spears were at the forefront, gaining ground and fending off the horde. Those who found no place among the shield wall were on buildings, shooting arrows and throwing stones to crush the monsters.

He did not know where to join the fight exactly, but as he looked left and right, he saw a familiar face, a few familiar faces actually.

Those were other young men close to his age group, maybe three years older than he is, and they were holed up in a building, holding their shields against the broken windows and fighting the small monsters that were trying to crawl through one at a time.

He knew them, he brawled with them once and almost won at that. If they can still hold their ground, he can also do it. So, he immediately joined them.

He held his shield and fortified a part of the window the same way they do, and once a Scamp tried to keep his shield and drag it from the side, he hacked a few fingers off that fucker.

Once the others saw that and recognised him, a senior of his arrived with a shield but found him in the place he was supposed to hold.

"What are you doing here? You should evacuate!"

"Too late! I will fight."

"Fuck! You are too small. If a red Dremora comes, you will not hold."

"I will!"

"It is not about how strong you are. You just do not have enough weight, you moron! Go to the back, help the wounded evacuate, there will be plenty of fighting there too."

Since it made sense, he had to do it. In such situations, obeying instructions is crucial to function in a combat unit; that is the basic principle they were taught in their martial studies.

He immediately went to the back door of the building to an alley where some Troopers and Hold Guards were dragged back after sustaining injuries. The field infirmary was just established a few blocks back, since this is the frontline; the auxiliary forces and the militia are needed to secure a retreat path for the injured.

For a second there, he feared that his father would be among those, but looking at the ratio of the Troopers compared to the Hold Guards, it seemed that this was not something to be afraid of. All the Troopers are heavily armoured and fight in tight formations. He saw their training firsthand and knows that they can withstand a battering ram if they were to make the right preparations. All the injured ones here were mostly unlucky or acted outside of formation.

He immediately sprang to help, but as soon as he attempted to help a guard out, the barricade that was used to block off the alley from the street side was broken through by a Dremora and a few minor daedra, such as scamps and banekins.

"Mortals! DIE!"

The Dremora screamed in a Tamriellic tongue, heralding a flood of small Daedra who had an easier time fighting in such narrow alleys than even the Dremora or the humans.

"Then Sovngarde it is."

A Dare Trooper, seemingly injured, stood up with two arrows bearing from his back, right under his left shoulder. He had a hammer in his right hand and dragged a large shield with his injured left hand.

"Go, join the defense!"

The guard who was being supported by the young adventurer pushed him away and went to look for a weapon himself as if he was ready to make a final stand. As for the young adventurer, he readied himself and joined the others who were rallying after the Trooper for the defense.

He tried to join the shield wall, but as his shield was small and his height did not match the others, he was told to guard their backs instead. A shield wall needs to be of equal height and type of shields to leave no gaps or weaknesses.

At first, he managed to grab a spear along with another injured guard, and together, they passed the spear through the shield wall and started skewering whatever unlikely thing on the other side.

The Trooper and the Dremora got engaged in a heavy duel, and blows were exchanged in the middle of the shield wall, but with the right coordination, the defenders managed to keep the alley blocked long enough until a signal was given to the archers above the roofs, and fire support arrived at the nick of time.

Even the Dremora was no match for the mean arrows that rained from above.

Yet the Daedra are nothing if not mean and cunning. As the Banekin realised that their advance was no longer possible and retreat would surely get them shot, they used the scamps as meatshields and got into a close melee against the humans in order to prevent the archers from shooting.

Indeed, with the risk of friendly fire, the archers stopped shooting, and the Banekins used the opportunity to turn the scene into chaos as they made the scamps climb the walls, and they used their spells on the alley defenders.

"Do not falter! They are trying to break our ranks."

With that order, the defenders gritted their teeth and tried as hard as they could to endure the spells and return the attacks. However, a few of the Scamps that managed to climb the alley wall changed their minds and bypassed the shield wall by jumping over it. Seeing this, some of the Banekins even tried to do the same.

Our young adventurer was now in a situation he did not anticipate. While most of the fighters around him were injured, every one of them was dealing with no less than two of these pesky Banekins and Scamps. While small, their numbers were overwhelming, and their size fit the alley well.

With the number and terrain disadvantages and no support from the archers, it was a bad situation to be in, but that was about to change.

The young adventurer reacted on pure instinct, barely getting his shield up in time to deflect the Banekin's razor-sharp claws as it descended from the wall, aiming straight for the boy's head.

Yet the weight of the creature was not something he could support. With that, he fell on his back with the monster above him, but in an agile move, he flipped his body backward and came above the Banekin, pressing it down with his shield and using his blade to hack and slash at the Daedra until it died.

"HAAA!"

The blood rush he got from that alone made his eyes go red with blood as he screamed his first Battle Cry like a true Nord would.

While it was still weak, it was a Battle Cry nonetheless, and coming from a boy like that, it made the elders look at him in awe.

And the tide shifted!

The elders were able to hold their ground, but only the boy could manoeuvre freely in this place. He helped everyone, taking down those small pests with his swift blade and precise footwork.

🎵 But don't weep for me, 'cause this will be the labor of my love 🎵

Before he could know it, not only had they pushed all the Daedric pests to retreat, but they even pushed all the way back outside the alley right at the heart of the action, where the large battle was ensuing.

"Enough! We cannot join them."

The Trooper, whose face was covered by his owl helm, held the boy by the shoulder and told him to retreat to the alley. Such a fight is no place for the light auxiliary forces or the injured; they are all brave men, but too much bravery is foolishness after all.

The boy realised that too and was about to join the group again, but just at that moment...

*FWOOOOOOM!*

... a harrowing sound of air breaking followed by a...

*KRRAAAK!*

... massive impact in the building right behind them.

Something hit the building so hard it felt like a cannonball---a red and handsome cannonball.

"What was the..."

But the action and suspense were far from over. Right after that destructive scene happened, the sky darkened with an ominous feeling and a...

*THUUUD!*

... a gargantuan dragon emerged from the cloud of dust that followed its violent descent.

Everything was now a mess.

Those who were around had one absolute understanding about this fight. The Undead, the Daedra, the Cultists---these are things they can fight. But Dragons, the Gods sent a Dragonborn for that particular job.

Amidst the cloud of dust, the Dragon reared its head back, and a fiery light emerged from where its maw should be.

Death, destruction, and ruin, all the humans present in this scene understood what was about to happen. Young and old, soldier or peasant, well or injured---death was nigh.

And as the Dragon was about to breathe hell, the boy stood his ground, shield up, eyes closed, and a hearty cry came from within.

"FUS RO DAH!"

The skies shifted!

The clouds flew backward!

A storm of power was unleashed!

The Dragon that was about to shout its fiery breath felt the recoil of an interrupted shout that came from the direction of those defenders who crawled outside cover.

It was supposed to be an easy kill, but...

"Well, well, well!"

Right behind the group of desperados, a mighty figure appeared.

He walked from beneath the rubble of the building that was shattered just now, and he was not looking pleased.

"That annoying Kungosvern, he got me good."

The red-haired figure barely stepped once, and he was already a few paces ahead of where he once was, now right beside the boy who faced the dragon alone.

Jon Dare---a known figure in these parts---looked between the boy and the Dragon and then at his surroundings.

"Sorry, young warriors. I did not know I was interrupting your one-on-one here," Jon said awkwardly, pointing to the dragon as he spoke to the boy.

Pale-faced, the boy looked at the Dragon and back again at Jon, with many conflicted emotions he was trying to convey.

"Wait! Do not tell me... is it your first Dragon?" Jon asked.

"Eh..."

"I see, I see, no shame in that. You know how to kill them, do you not?" Jon asked.

The boy looked at the Dragon, then back at Jon, before making an unsure face.

"Cheer up! I am somewhat of an expert. I will show you how, alright?"

Before the boy could even nod, Jon patted his back fiercely and made another step forward, disappearing from view completely.

The next second, he hit the Dragon right in its centre and brought it down before the latter would even attempt to fly. Jon then landed after a high jump on the dragon's head and buried it in the ground with a devastating brute force before jumping right to the front and holding the dragon by the head.

"Now, watch carefully. The easiest way to kill is to hold from here aaaaaand snap. Hold and?"

"S-S-Snap?"

"Exactly! Now watch!"

Jon put his foot against the side of the dragon's jaw and held it by the snout before...

*SNAP!*

... completely broke the jaw and twisted the neck at a weird angle.

"See? Clean and simple. No need to break through the hard scales," Jon said as he dusted off his hands and walked towards the boy.

"Now..." He said as he grabbed the boy by the shoulder.

"*Gulp!*" The boy looked up at the large Jon, whose smile conveyed that such a person is in no way in the right mind.

"Why don't you go try that on that one?" Jon said that while pointing at a Dragon engaged in a battle at the fortified tower to the north.

"Husband! Stop being mean to young kids, please."

"Me? Mean?"

The red high priestess of Kyne descended with a similar style to how Jon moves and approached her husband with two ice blades in her hands.

"Of course, you are mean. I am still learning that move myself," Wulfur said as he appeared from the south, holding a strange beast that he seemed to have absolutely smashed while on the way here.

"Nonsense. It is an easy move," Jon replied as if wronged.

"Well, ain't that a kick in the pants! It is really weird watching one of my own kinda get squashed like that! I mean, whoo-boy, talk about a neck breaker!" A dragon spoke in a sassy, feminine way as it descended smoothly.

"Remind me to talk to you about that Dragon body of yours. I have a lot... new interests now... if you catch my drift," Jon said.

"Ewww!" "Gross, man!" "Not in front of the boy!"

"What? Don't you find it strange for her to possess a Dragon and me not? I want to learn that for feline purposes as well," Jon said.

"Hooman, rude!" (Nefertiti)

"Oh, kitty cat, do not be disappointed in me! Come, give daddy kisses," (Jon)

"Nya! Go away!" (Nefertiti)

"Kid, I am so sorry you have to watch that," (Alina)

While it seemed like a light atmosphere in this grim situation, the heroes of Winterhold seemed to have vanquished their foes.

🎵 Here we are, don't turn away now 🎵

Alina sent the young adventurer back with the injured, including Jonrad, Hilda, Nurina, Isha, Mirren, Miranda, Beth, Ongiem, Trudvar, Lydia, and many more.

The rooster was full, and as Jon and his cat joined the centre of the scene after absorbing the soul of the Dragon he killed, Kungosvern appeared above the city wall, and its might spread all over the sky. On top of its head was the male side of Kungosvern, looking down at the sight of the city.

"TREMBLE BEFORE MORTALS! I BRING YOUR DOOM!"

🎵 We are the warriors that built this town 🎵

Jon raised his hand and pointed forward.

"The ones who do not down a single Dragon will be on tanning Dragon Hide duty tonight! ATTAAAAACK!"