Chapter 167 Unleash the Beast

Viona stared at Leon, her breath catching in her throat.

"The beast?" she whispered. Her eyes widened, the color draining from her dirty face. "You don’t mean... Ignisrax?"

"That is exactly what I mean," Leon answered, his voice rough and steady.

"Are you insane?!" Viona snapped, grabbing his arm. "We spent three months hunting that monster in the molten caverns of Mount Caelum! We lost forty high-tier paladins, burned two archbishops to ash, and drained half the celestial reserves just to lock those sealing chains around its neck! That creature was our final weapon for the northern campaign! We sealed it so we could drop it directly onto the Demon Lord Malakor’s citadel!"

"And what good will that weapon do sitting in a cave if we die here?" Leon countered. He didn’t flinch, shaking off her grip. "Look around you, Viona. Your empire is in pieces. The dukes are running for their lives. The roads are shattered. If John Smith takes the rest of the valleys, there is no northern campaign. There is no Demon Lord. There is only our heads on iron pikes."

Leon leaned down, his lone amber eye burning into hers.

"We need something that doesn’t care about metal rods or flying machines. We need something that can take a beating, fly through any storm, and turn an entire harbor into liquid glass. We unseal the dragon. We send it straight to the capital. While John Smith scrambles his toys to deal with a living calamity, we take back the initiative."

Viona stood frozen in the sulfur steam. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

She hated the beast. She remembered the suffocating heat of its breath, the sheer terror when its massive jaws snapped shut inches from her body, and the nightmares she had endured for weeks after they finally bound it with ancient runes. But Leon was right. John Smith’s flying demons were hunting them like rats. If they didn’t change the board, they would be wiped out.

"Fine," Viona hissed through clenched teeth. "We wake the dragon."

Leaving the eight thousand shivering soldiers under the protective fog of the Ironwood Basin, Viona and Leon slipped away through a secret cavern path.

They traveled north through deep underground tunnels that bypassed the mountain passes entirely. For two days, they moved in darkness, guided only by the faint light of Viona’s staff. The air grew progressively warmer, then stifling, until the damp stone walls gave way to black volcanic basalt. The smell of rotten sulfur was replaced by the dry, suffocating stench of pure brimstone.

Finally, they reached an iron door set deep into the subterranean roots of Mount Caelum, an active volcano hidden behind the Dragonspine Ridge.

Viona pressed her bloody palm against the central crest.

CLANG.

The heavy warding array recognized her royal bloodline. Runes flared red, and the massive stone slabs groaned as they slowly slid open, releasing a blast of heat so intense it felt like walking into a blast furnace.

Beyond the doors lay a colossal cavern hollowed out of the volcano’s heart.

A lake of bubbling orange magma churned at the bottom, casting violent red shadows across the jagged ceiling. And suspended directly above the lava, held by twelve massive adamantine chains thicker than ancient oak trees, was the beast.

The Red Dragon, Ignisrax.

It was colossal. From its horned snout to the jagged tip of its tail, it stretched nearly three hundred feet. Its crimson scales were thick and jagged, like overlapping plates of hardened volcanic rock, each one wider than a soldier’s tower shield. Enormous bat-like wings were folded tight against its ribs, pinned down by glowing golden bands inscribed with divine binding scripts.

The dragon was slumbering, trapped in a stasis spell. But even in its deep sleep, its chest rose and fell with a low, earth-shaking rumble. Every time it exhaled, twin plumes of black smoke and white-hot sparks shot from its nostrils, hissing against the chains.

Leon walked out onto the stone bridge overlooking the lake. The dry heat beat against his scarred face, but he didn’t blink.

"Look at him," Leon muttered, his hand resting on his sword hilt. "Three hundred years old. The ancient tyrant of the southern crags. His scales can deflect siege ballistas, high-tier lightning magic, and falling boulders without a scratch."

"And his breath?" Viona asked, walking up beside him. Her eyes reflected the glow of the molten rock below.

"Hot enough to melt iron in two seconds," Leon said with a cruel grin. "Let’s see those American iron wagons survive that. They think their metal carts and gray ships are tough? They’ve never faced an apex predator born from the earth’s core."

Viona stepped to the edge of the platform. She raised both hands high into the air, calling up every drop of divine authority left in her recovering core.

Her body ignited with a blazing golden aura.

"Awaken, Ignisrax!" Viona chanted, her voice booming through the cavern with ancient, commanding power. "By the blood of the Solarian Throne and the seal of the Black Trench, I command your eyes to open!"

CRACK!

The golden binding runes etched into the twelve adamantine chains flared with blinding light, then fractured like brittle glass.

The dragon’s massive eyelids snapped open.

Two slit-pupiled eyes, burning like miniature suns, locked onto the tiny figures standing on the stone bridge. A deafening, primeval roar tore from its throat, shaking the entire volcanic chamber so violently that boulders tumbled from the ceiling and splashed into the magma below.

ROOOAAARRRR!

The shockwave alone almost knocked Viona off her feet. The dragon thrashed against the remaining metal chains, its muscles bulging beneath its armored hide, the metal links groaning in agony.

Leon stepped forward, his ki flaring bright crimson around his body, matching the beast’s murderous aura.

"Easy, lizard!" Leon bellowed, his voice cutting through the roar. "You want to tear us apart? You’ll have to break the master collar first!"

Viona pointed her glowing staff directly at the dragon’s forehead, where an ancient imperial control spike was driven deep between its scales. The spike pulsed with violet electricity, sending waves of agonizing shock directly into the beast’s brain stem.

The dragon shrieked in pain, thrashing its massive horned head, but slowly, the violet glow forced its wild rage into rigid, forced obedience. Its fiery eyes narrowed, pupils trembling as the imperial contract took hold of its mind.

"Hear my decree, beast of the caldera!" Viona yelled, her voice filled with pure venom and mad ambition. "The western sky is taken by foreign invaders! The sacred harbor of Port Solis is infested with gray iron demons and powerless cowards! Fly west! Burn their ships to ash! Tear their metal wagons to scraps! Devour every single soldier wearing gray, and bring me the head of John Smith!"

SNAP!

SNAP!

SNAP!

One by one, the twelve giant adamantine chains snapped open, falling into the boiling lava with thunderous splashes.

Ignisrax spread its wings.

The wingspan was terrifying, blotting out the ceiling of the cavern. With a single, earth-shaking thrust of its leathery wings, the red dragon launched itself upward, generating a hurricane of scorching air that knocked loose stones into the abyss.

It tore through the volcanic chimney above, bursting out into the cold mountain air.

High above the Dragonspine Ridge, a red streak of pure, prehistoric terror broke through the clouds. The dragon’s deafening roar echoed across thirty miles of mountain peaks, a warning to the entire world that an ancient calamity had returned.

On the stone platform below, Leon and Viona watched through the open chimney as the massive crimson silhouette banked sharply toward the western coast.

"Fly," Leon chuckled darkly, his lone eye glinting with wicked satisfaction. "Let those Americans see what real war looks like. Their flying glass toys won’t mean a damn thing when an ancient dragon turns the capital into an ocean of fire."

Viona smiled for the first time in days, her bloody lips twisting into a triumphant, cold sneer.

"Die in fire, John Smith," she whispered into the wind. "Let the dragon reclaim my throne."