Mordred remained silent, motionless in the complete darkness. Hidden within the shelter of the ruins of an old Parisian building, he had been staring at the dimensional portal for several hours now, methodically observing every detail of the draconic guards’ behavior.
Every breath, every gesture, every movement of the soldiers was precisely analyzed by his vigilant gaze. Time flowed slowly, mercilessly. A cold tension ran through his body as minutes turned into hours.
The draconic guards, in their humanoid form, patrolled regularly, displaying exemplary military discipline. They never stopped for more than a few moments in the same place, their conversations limited to brief and formal exchanges, leaving little room for error or inattention.
The first shift change occurred exactly at two in the morning. Mordred carefully observed the perfectly regulated movements of the guards leaving their posts and those taking their place. He noted every detail: the precise time, the exact number of soldiers involved, the speed of the process.
At four o’clock, the second shift change proceeded identically, confirming the mathematical precision of their rotations. Mordred now knew exactly how and when to intervene. He had counted every second, every movement. The window of opportunity was clear: precisely twenty seconds during the next change.
But as time passed, a painful thought grew within him, disturbing his concentrated mind.
He recalled their planned meeting at dawn. He remembered her eyes shining with fierce determination, her absolute confidence in him. He clenched his fists slightly, a slight guilt infiltrating him.
- "Sorry Livia," he murmured almost silently, his heart heavy. "I won’t honor our cartography appointment this time..."
But he knew he had to act now. This war in China had become more important than he had anticipated. His instinct whispered that his place was there, at the very heart of the conflict, not here observing passively.
He clenched his gloved fists tighter, mastering his emotions to regain absolute concentration. The mission above all, the war above all. He slowly raised his head, his orange eyes burning intensely in the nocturnal darkness.
Time passed slowly until six in the morning.
The sky was just beginning to brighten timidly, the city invaded by a light mist. The draconic guards seemed slightly tired after a long night of watch. Their vigilance remained intact, but their movements became slightly more mechanical, a bit less attentive.
The relief finally arrived. Mordred straightened slightly, his breathing calm but his body tense, his muscles ready to pounce. He watched the guards slowly advancing toward their replacements, positioning themselves precisely at the expected locations.
His heart began to beat slowly, each pulse seeming to precisely measure each passing second. He now knew every gesture, every movement performed by these soldiers. His mind silently counted:
Twenty seconds. No more, no less.
The first group left its position. Eighteen seconds.
The new guards advanced, briefly distracted by routine. Fifteen seconds.
The relieving guards crossed paths, exchanging brief words. Ten seconds.
One of the guards turned slightly, mechanically looking toward the neighboring street. Seven seconds.
Mordred launched himself silently, his silhouette blurred, almost invisible in the faint morning light. His intangibility skill activated instinctively, he silently traversed the open spaces, perfectly avoiding each zone of vigilance.
He quickly covered the distance, his boots barely grazing the cold ground.
He passed within centimeters of a guard who, his eyes fixed on his colleague, noticed nothing.
The dimensional portal vibrated before him, the luminous and trembling surface reflecting his determined face.
Mordred took a deep breath, stepping decisively through the magical surface of the portal.
An intense cold invaded him briefly, as if pierced by a thousand icy needles, before being immediately replaced by a supernatural heat, intense and burning. A sensation of stretching, of tearing, traversed his entire being for a fraction of a second. Then everything suddenly stabilized.
He had passed to the other side.
He had passed to the other side.
Mordred stood on a vast desert expanse, an abandoned plain, dark and desolate, stretching as far as the eye could see under a reddish sky. The air was charged with dust and mana residue, testifying to the recent massive passage of draconic legions. But he was not yet in China; the real front was still several hundred kilometers to the east.
He slowly raised his head, examining his immediate environment to ensure he was alone. No guards, no dragons in immediate sight. He had succeeded in his infiltration. His breathing calm and regular, Mordred concentrated deeply, letting his inner energy slowly awaken, circulate powerfully within him.
He briefly closed his eyes, breathing deeply. When he reopened them, their orange glow shone more intensely than ever, incandescent with absolute determination.
- "It’s time," he murmured to himself, his voice full of cold resolution.
His mana circulated rapidly throughout his body, the accumulated energy becoming almost tangible. Slowly, black scales, thin but extremely resistant, began to form on his skin, progressively covering his arms, his torso, his legs. Two dark and elegant horns slowly emerged from his forehead, painfully piercing the flesh in drops of scarlet blood that lightly beaded on his face. He didn’t flinch, perfectly mastering the pain.
Finally, he deployed his mana wings. Immense, magnificent, composed of pure but solidified energy, they majestically unfolded behind his back, beating slowly and powerfully. Mordred immediately felt the difference in his body; this draconic form optimized every aspect of his physical and magical capabilities. He knew he could now traverse the sky with incredible speed.
With a firm gesture, he took momentum against the ground. The concentrated power of his mana wings was instantly released. He took off from the ground in a lightning acceleration, the wind whistling around him as he pierced the sky at dizzying speed.
Below him, the terrestrial landscape flowed rapidly, blurred by speed. His mind, perfectly calm and concentrated, remained fixed on his objective: quickly reach China and join the very heart of this crucial war.
The flight was long but extremely rapid. Mordred crossed mountains, traversed forests, passed valleys at a pace that would have seemed impossible for any ordinary human being. Hours passed without him slowing or becoming exhausted, his draconic form optimizing every second of his aerial journey.
Finally, after several hours of flight at full power, he felt he was approaching his objective. About sixty kilometers from Beijing, his sharpened senses immediately captured the intensity of the ongoing combat: luminous lightning tore through the sky on the horizon, explosions resonated in the distance, creating a chaotic din that seemed to make the air itself tremble.
He slightly slowed his flight, his orange eyes fixed on the terrifying spectacle gradually taking shape before him. Squadrons of dragons and wyverns, accompanied by immense draconic assault vessels, fiercely confronted Chinese military forces: supersonic fighter jets, anti-aircraft missiles, and elite fighter squadrons cut through the air in a titanic and merciless confrontation.
The ground was also plunged into brutal battle, punctuated by tank fire, artillery explosions, and violent mana exchanges between dragons in their humanoid form and Chinese hunters deploying spectacular magical skills. The earth itself seemed to burn under the intensity of the clashes.
As he advanced, Mordred could observe the draconic military formation: organized, disciplined, formidably efficient. He immediately recognized the influence of House Ignivara in this perfectly executed tactic.
Without slowing further, he approached rapidly, covering several dozen kilometers in just a few minutes. His powerful wings maintained him at altitude, but low enough to evaluate the situation in detail.
One kilometer from the heart of the battlefield, he finally slowed, carefully observing the movements of aerial and terrestrial troops. He was preparing to strategically choose the best entry point into this chaotic battle when a brutal intuition struck him suddenly.
Mordred turned his head sharply, just in time to see a luminous projectile launch from the Chinese defensive positions toward his location.
He didn’t have time to finish his thought.
The sonic bomb exploded a few meters from him, releasing a terrifying shock wave. He immediately felt the destructive power of the explosion propagate through the air, the impact resonating violently in his body.
The sonic energy projected him violently backward, brutally disrupting his flight and nearly breaking his bones. Atrocious pain traversed every fiber of his being as he momentarily fell through the void, disoriented by the impact.
For a fraction of a second, everything went black, his consciousness briefly clouded by the shock.
His body fell brutally.
- "Enemy down, General!" a Chinese soldier rejoiced.
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Just to let you know that I’m releasing a new book soon and that I’m really going to apply myself a lot to build a complete and coherent plot and universe; I think this will be my first really big story and I think you’ll like it !
Join the discord if you want to know more, otherwise I’ll see you tomorrow !
(PS: The discord link is in my bio or on the home page of this book).