From her maw poured a blended light of blue, red, and gold — a terrible column of destructive force that gathered everything into its core. It descended like a falling star, absorbing life and light as it went. The blast struck the Dragon King and detonated in a cathedral of flame and force.

When the fire and shock cleared, a vast swath of land — nearly fifty kilometers across — lay ruined and smoking. The blast had burned and crushed everything in its radius. Lyra stood panting, wings spread, scales steamed and singed but resolute. She forced herself to look down the ruined field and measure the price she had paid to stop him.

For a long beat she thought she had the moment. Then the thunder of wings filled the sky. The Dragon King had recovered astonishingly fast. In less than a second he had vaulted back into the heights and was already coming for her neck with brutal speed. Lyra spun to meet him, reaching for another strike.

"Use the attack," the Dragon King hissed, closing with feral intent.

Lyra met him head-on. The night split with their collision. Energy flashed and folded; divine fire met divine fury. Lyra felt the world tilt beneath them as they traded blows that would have leveled whole towns had they been unleashed without restraint. Both knew the danger. Both knew the price if the fight spilled beyond them.

Lyra gritted her teeth and steadied herself. Dawn was still far off. She had to end this — or at least break him — before the sky lightened and the whole world could see the consequences of their war. She steadied her breath, gathered the last of her measured power, and prepared to strike again.

The Divine Dragon King surged back and snarled, "Why don't you join me in destroying the world? Wouldn't that be better than us fighting each other? You know you can't win. I will destroy this world and every human in it."

Lyra answered, steady despite the pain. "You could have ended everything with a single blast. You could have leveled a city with one careless strike, but you didn't. You aimed your attacks at me—precise, focused on me. Why? You put up a barrier, a hundred divine layers I can feel even if I cannot see them. If it breaks, you rebuild it instantly. Why do you care about mortals so much? I never thought you would turn out this way. If you refuse to join me, then you will have to die."

The Dragon King opened his maw wide and bared glowing claws that called themselves Primordial Focus. He gathered fire and divine energy and released it in a terrible torrent.

Lyra also opened her mouth and launched a golden blast. The two attacks collided in midair. The Dragon King's strike cut through Lyra's beam and slammed into her face. She staggered back, fell for an instant, then stabilized in the air and flew up again, wings beating slowly. "Is that the best you can do?" she challenged. "I thought your attack would be stronger."

"Very well," the Divine Dragon King said. He drew in breath and sent another ray of fire straight at her.

Lyra replied with a skill she had kept for the worst moment. "World-End Aura," she called.

Everything around the shot began to slow. The Dragon King's fire lost its teeth, its momentum collapsing as if time itself were growing viscous. The energy depreciated and then winked out. Dizziness washed over the Divine Dragon King. "What is this skill?" he gasped.

"This is the card I planned," Lyra said, steady and cold. "One of my trump cards."

The Divine Dragon King staggered, dizziness washing over him as the world spun. How dare this behemoth mock me! he snarled. "Dispel magic." Instantly, the slowing effect snapped away. Everything rushed back to normal as if a warded aura had canceled Lyra's skill.

Lyra flapped her wings and steadied herself. Not so fast, she thought, but the victory felt far. "How am I going to win?" she murmured under her breath. She was still in her behemoth form; the gap in power was too large.

"Is that all you've got?" the Dragon King taunted. "Now I'm annoyed. Let's end this. Use your strongest. I'll use mine. No holding back."

"No," Lyra said. "If we both go all out, this world might be destroyed. I won't let that happen." She clenched her jaw. "Fine. I'll contain the blast to you. You do the same."

Both of them readied themselves. Black Sun, Lyra whispered, and a dark mass of energy began to swell above her. The black sun grew vast and terrible; she hurled it forward.

"Nothing can stop me," the Dragon King boomed. He unleashed a different flame at once—a devouring fire that swallowed everything whole. The two forces collided. The Dragon King's flame began to absorb the black sun.

Lyra felt her reserves drain. Her voice was thin. "I'm almost out. I must make sure this attack doesn't slip away." She planted her feet and refused to dodge. If this had to strike her… it would. She wrapped herself in layered shields and braced.

"This is it. Bye-bye, Divine Behemoth," the Dragon King roared as the combined onslaught bore down.

The impact slammed into Lyra. She screamed—one, raw sound—then felt the world tilt. Fire and shadow devoured her form. Her behemoth body began to collapse inward, the divine energy crushing and consuming. In a violent moment she reverted back to human—small and fragile—and fell to the ground with a thunderous crash.

She opened her eyes, breath ragged. Little energy remained. With trembling strength she reached up toward the sky. "Unbreakable Ceiling," she whispered, and a binding radiance shot from her hand, wrapping around the Dragon King's vast form. He thrashed and tried to break free, but the seal held fast.

Lyra was bleeding out of power; she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness. Forcing herself upright, she forced out one last gasp. "I have to go… meet Master," she murmured before the darkness crept in.

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