The wyvern lashed out with another sweeping strike of its tail, the air howling with the force of it. Ethan ducked low, boots skidding across scorched stone as the massive appendage crashed into a pillar behind him, shattering it into a rain of burning rubble. Smoke coiled upward, mixing with the heat of the beast's fire until the whole chamber seemed wrapped in a furnace haze.

The monster was relentless. Every wingbeat churned gale-force winds, feeding the firestorm. Its scales gleamed crimson in the light, hide marred with gashes, blood streaking its flanks where Ethan, Xarion, and the soldiers had struck. But even wounded, it refused to yield, fury driving every movement.

Xarion roared above the inferno, wings flaring wide as he rained down fire from his jaws. The blast carved across the wyvern's back, burning deep grooves through its hide. The beast shrieked and reared, snapping upward with fangs bared, trying to seize him in its jaws. Xarion twisted away at the last instant, his wings clipping the wyvern's horn as he spiraled back into the smoke.

That opening was all Ethan needed.

He surged forward, his soldiers locking shields to clear the path. The wyvern stomped down in anger, shaking the floor, but Ethan pushed through the shockwave. His eyes narrowed, blade raised high. He dashed in tight to its side, swung upward, and the silver edge tore clean through the thin membrane of its right wing.

The beast screamed.

Blood splattered in a hot rain as its wing sagged, the torn membrane flapping uselessly. It beat the other wing in panic, but the balance was gone. The wyvern staggered sideways, crashing against a wall and leaving a blackened crater where stone melted beneath its own breath.

Ethan landed hard, rolling to his feet just as a fiery gust swept past, singeing the ground where he had stood. His chest heaved, lungs aching from smoke, but the sight of the beast's ruined wing sent a surge of grim satisfaction through him.

"Lirael!" he barked.

Her bow thrummed in answer. Two glowing arrows streaked through the haze, slamming into the wyvern's exposed joints. One found its shoulder, the other its knee, forcing the monster lower with a roar of frustration.

"On it!" Sylvie's voice rang next, her staff blazing with light. Healing washed over Ethan's soldiers as they re-formed ranks, mending scorched flesh and shattered armor. A fallen shield-bearer pushed himself upright again, grimacing but alive, and slammed his shield back into formation.

Together, their support carved order into chaos.

The wyvern tried to rise again, but its injured wing dragged it down. Xarion took the advantage, swooping low with a roar that rattled the walls. He slammed into its neck, claws burning with fire, dragging the beast to the ground. They rolled together, a storm of scales and flame, shaking the very chamber.

The battlefield had become unrecognizable. Flames roared across the floor, spreading from cracks where the wyvern's breath had struck. The ceiling above groaned, glowing orange where heat licked at stone. Smoke made the air thick and choking, reducing the fight to shifting shadows and brief flashes of firelight.

Ethan's vision blurred at the edges, but his mind was sharp. This was the moment they needed.

"Press it! Don't let up!" he shouted.

The soldiers obeyed instantly, spears stabbing at the wyvern's underside as it writhed. Lirael's arrows cut through the smoke with streaks of light, striking again and again into exposed scales. Sylvie's healing waves held the line steady, her face pale with strain but her focus unbroken.

Step by step, strike by strike, they cornered the beast.

The wyvern thrashed, tail whipping out wildly. One soldier was caught and flung across the chamber, vanishing into silver dust before reforming. Ethan darted forward before the tail could strike again, blade flashing in a precise arc. He slashed along its side, tearing another deep wound into its scaled hide.

The wyvern bellowed, its roar echoing like thunder trapped in stone. It slammed its head down, jaws snapping dangerously close. Ethan backpedaled, sparks flying as teeth clamped down inches from him.

"Not yet," he muttered through clenched teeth, gripping his blade tighter.

Xarion roared again, flames bursting from his maw into the beast's face. The wyvern shrieked, rearing back as its own fire mingled with Xarion's in a violent storm. The air warped from the heat, the ground glowing red-hot where flames clashed and spilled over.

Now the chamber was nothing but fire and fury. Every surface glowed, every shadow twisted by the roaring inferno. Smoke clawed at lungs, visibility was nearly gone, yet through it all Ethan moved with sharp, steady steps. His soldiers followed, their discipline holding even against the chaos.

The wyvern's breathing grew ragged. Blood streamed freely from its torn wing, its shoulders riddled with wounds. Every attempt to rise was met with steel, arrow, or flame.

Cornered. Trapped.

It slammed back against the wall, claws scraping deep trenches into stone. Its eyes blazed with primal rage, yet in them flickered something new — not just fury, but desperation.

Ethan's own eyes narrowed. He had seen it before, in beasts and men alike. The moment when pride turned to survival.

"Hold the line," he murmured, blade dripping with blood as he raised it once more.

The wyvern roared, flame building again in its throat. Even weakened, even cornered, its fury refused to die.

And Ethan stepped forward into the fire, Xarion crashing down beside him, the two of them bearing their weight against the monster that had dominated this floor for too long.

The end was drawing near.

The wyvern's roars deepened, growing ragged, broken by pain yet swelling with rage. Its massive chest heaved, ribs shuddering beneath scarlet scales slick with blood. Cornered, bleeding, its wing half-shredded, it understood. The end was close. And in its fury, it refused to die quietly.

The beast thrashed like a storm unchained. Its tail smashed across the chamber, reducing pillars to rubble. Fire spewed wildly from its throat, not in the sharp, controlled breaths from before, but in waves — a torrent of molten fury that swallowed the battlefield.

Flames rolled over stone, igniting everything they touched. The heat blistered the air, bending sight, searing the lungs. Ethan raised his arm to shield his face, his soldiers staggering under the sheer force of it. Even Xarion faltered for a heartbeat, wings curling around him against the blaze.

"Back!" Ethan barked.

Lirael and Sylvie needed no further urging. They retreated quickly, boots splashing through puddles of blood and molten stone, vanishing into the smoke at the chamber's edge. Without them, there was no steady stream of arrows or healing light to hold the rhythm. The battle collapsed into raw survival.

The wyvern screeched again, a sound that rattled bone, and slammed its claws against the floor. Cracks split outward, fire gushing from the fissures as the beast bared its teeth in a frenzy.

Ethan's chest burned with every breath, sweat pouring down his face, but he saw it — the wild desperation behind the chaos. The beast's strength was tearing itself apart, every movement burning through what little life it had left.

This was the moment.

He glanced at Xarion through the veil of smoke. The draconian's fiery eyes locked with his. No words passed, none were needed. They moved as one.

Ethan broke into a sprint, his boots striking sparks on the scorched floor. He ducked under the lashing tail, rolled past the cascade of fire that nearly swallowed him whole, and drove himself forward with everything he had left. His blade gleamed, drawn high above his head, mana coursing along the edge until it glowed white-hot.

At the same instant, Xarion launched from the side, wings propelling him in a burst of molten wind. His claws burned with draconic fire, every scale on his body alight with searing fury.

The wyvern turned, too late.

Ethan leapt, muscles screaming, smoke swirling around him. He came down from above, his blade plunging deep through the crown of the wyvern's skull. Bone cracked, sparks exploded as steel carved its way into flesh, and the monster let out a deafening, broken roar.

From below, Xarion struck. His claws pierced up through the soft underside of its jaw, tearing straight through muscle and sinew until they met Ethan's blade at the center.

Steel and fire met in the heart of the beast's skull.

The wyvern's scream choked into silence. Its body convulsed, massive frame shuddering as if the entire chamber quaked with it. Its eyes, once burning crimson like molten ore, flickered… dimmed… then went dark.

The beast collapsed, all strength gone. Its massive bulk slammed into the ground, the impact rattling stone and snuffing out fires beneath it. Dust and embers swirled upward, filling the air in a suffocating cloud.

Ethan staggered back, yanking his blade free as the wyvern's head sagged lifelessly to the floor. He dropped to one knee, panting hard, his lungs clawing for air through the smoke. His arms ached, his whole body trembling with the effort of the strike.

Xarion stood opposite him, his chest rising and falling in heavy heaves. His claws dripped with blood, his scales scorched and torn. For a long moment, the draconian said nothing — only stared at the fallen beast that had nearly consumed him.

Silence fell.

The flames still crackled, but the fury was gone. No more roars shook the walls. No more wings beat the air. Only the hiss of cooling stone and the faint rasp of exhausted breaths filled the cavern.

Ethan lowered his blade, eyes lingering on the dimmed corpse before him. Victory had been won, but the cost weighed heavy in his bones.

From the shadows, Lirael and Sylvie emerged cautiously, faces pale, eyes wide at the sight. Sylvie's staff glowed faintly, ready in case danger lingered, but her hands trembled. Lirael's bow hung slack at her side, her breath caught between awe and relief.

They had done it. Together.

Ethan rose slowly, planting his blade into the ground to steady himself. He looked to Xarion again, their gazes locking across the ruined battlefield. A silent acknowledgment passed between them — not trust, not yet, but respect forged in fire.

The crimson wyvern, terror of the tenth floor, was no more.

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