Max stood tall atop the ancestral beast, spine straight as a spear. His body was now fully encased in the sleek void armor, the black plates drinking in the light around him until the very air seemed to twist and warp at the edges.

He drew mana from the sky in greedy, invisible torrents, flooding his reserves in case something stronger than Agnia waited below.

Ever since repelling Thor, he had caught himself wondering just how powerful the Wind Emperor truly was, and whether the Fire Kingdom hid any beast of that caliber. Agnia alone posed no threat, but if some hidden monster dared stand in the way of his conquest, he would crush it without hesitation.

The sharp, acrid scent of tar and molten rock filled his nostrils, carried upward by the slow rivers of lava spilling from the volcano peaks. He narrowed his eyes at the desolate landscape. How had they managed to thrive here?

The earth looked barren, yet far below he could see simple Fire Dragon clansmen mining the mountainside, their figures tiny and unaware of the storm descending upon them.

"Are you ready?" Rosalia asked softly, her hand resting gently on his void-armored arm. Her gaze swept across the volcanic lands stretching far below them, the same cursed territory that had taken everything from her people centuries ago.

She knew only fragments of the ancient war between the Ice and Fire Dragon Clans, but one brutal truth had been carved into her heart: it was during that long-forgotten conflict that her mother had been killed.

That old wound had never truly healed. It was one of the deepest reasons she had insisted on coming to stand beside Max and watch the Fire Dragons finally kneel before his might, to see justice delivered for the blood spilled in the past.

"Yeah..." Max answered, his voice low and steady, almost a growl.

High atop the ancestral beast, the Fire Dragon Clan’s stronghold rose into view like a nightmare forged from flame and stone. A massive, arrogant castle clung defiantly to the mountainside, its mighty obsidian towers scraping the blood-red sky like black claws raised in challenge.

Rivers of molten lava poured endlessly from the volcano’s summit, glowing furious orange as they snaked down the blackened slopes and fed into a vast, churning moat of liquid fire that encircled the entire fortress. The searing heat shimmered the air even at their altitude, carrying the thick, acrid stench of sulfur and scorched rock.

A wave of golden flames erupted from the palace like a sunrise forged in wrath. One after another, thousands of Fire Dragon warriors shot into the sky, wings beating furiously as they formed a living wall against the incoming threat.

Their numbers were overwhelming. Five thousand strong, far more than the arrogant force Agnia had once led against the Ice Dragons. Back then she had believed she would simply trample them into the dirt. Then Max had appeared and shattered her plans in a single afternoon.

Agnia herself rose like a second sun, her body blazing with golden fire. Gleaming golden armor hugged her form, turning her into a radiant beacon of fury. Her eyes locked onto Max and Rosalia, narrowing at how closely the pair rode together. She had not imagined the Ice Dragon princess had already become his wife.

Her ancestral beast roared and surged upward to meet them, golden flames gathering at its jaws before blasting forward in a searing beam of pure heat.

Max smirked beneath his half-helmet and raised a single hand. Void energy surged outward in a silent pulse. The golden beam simply vanished, snuffed out as if he had pinched a candle flame between his fingers. The entire Fire Dragon army drew a collective, fearful breath.

"Stop right before them," Max whispered to the ancestral beast. The massive creature slowed and hovered to a halt, looming over the enemy host.

"Greetings, Fire Dragon Clan warriors," Max called out, his half-helmet dissolving into drifting black smoke as he smiled. "It’s... been a while, hasn’t it?"

"You are not welcome here," Agnia snarled through clenched teeth.

Max’s smile only widened. He liked when they played hard to get.

"I’m not asking for permission to enter my lands," he replied, arrogance dripping from every word.

The Fire Dragon warriors glared at him with open hatred.

"Watch your tongue, human!" Agnia’s young advisor spat, body trembling with rage. "This is our land. You have no business—"

His words died in a wet crack. A silent pulse of void energy snapped from above and broke his neck like dry kindling. The advisor’s lifeless body plummeted into the churning lava far below.

Max tilted his head. "Anyone else? Or will you simply lead me to my throne?"

He summoned his void blade. The weapon drank the light around it, warping the air like a black hole given form.

"Kill him!" Agnia roared.

The entire army spread out in a thunderous surge, surrounding the trio in a storm of wings and golden fire. The ancestral beast shifted nervously, sensing the trap, but Rosalia dropped into a low squat and gently stroked its massive head.

"It’s okay," she whispered. "Trust him."

Her purple eyes reflected the oncoming golden tidal wave of flames crashing toward them from every direction. If that barrage landed, they would be reduced to ash in an instant. Yet she didn’t raise a single shield or even flinch. Her trust in Max was absolute.

"Sorry, Agnia," Max said, voice gentle yet loud enough to cut through the roaring inferno. "But since you want to play at being powerful... let me snuff out the flame that holds your kingdom together."

The words sliced straight through her arrogance. Agnia bared her teeth and thrust both palms forward. Golden flames thicker and brighter than her entire army’s combined assault exploded outward, blotting out the sky.

"Die!" she shrieked, pouring everything she had into the strike.

What happened next shattered the spirit of every warrior present.

Max raised his sword high. A pulse of black mist erupted outward in a perfect circle. In the span of a heartbeat, it devoured every golden flame mid-air, sucking the violent mana straight into his core. The raw power burned inside him like swallowed lava, but he held it.

"Goodnight."

With a snap of his fingers, the black light detonated from his blade.

A devouring wave of pure void swallowed everything: sky, ground, warriors, even the ancient mana churning deep inside the volcano itself. The mountain trembled as hidden reservoirs of power detonated in the darkness.

The Fire Dragon Clan’s golden age ended in a single, silent eclipse.