Rage Of The Dragon -

The first sign was the heat. A dry, suffocating wind swept down from the Iron Peaks, wilting crops in seconds. Then came the shadow. Ignis-Kahl was not merely a beast; he was an avalanche with wings. When he descended upon Oakhaven, he didn’t just breathe fire—he unleashed a rhythmic, molten pulse that turned stone to glass.

Elara didn't flinch. She drove the Shard into the stone at her feet, triggering a wave of absolute cold. For a heartbeat, the dragon’s fire sputtered. In that moment of frozen silence, man and beast locked eyes. Elara saw not just a monster, but a grieving king of a dead era, looking at the thieves who had desecrated his rest. Rage of the Dragon

In the capital, King Alaric watched the horizon glow a sickly, permanent orange. "It isn't hunger," the court mage whispered, hands trembling over a scrying orb. "It is retribution. We have stolen his marrow, and now he comes to reclaim the debt in ash." The first sign was the heat

For three centuries, the Great Wyrm, Ignis-Kahl, had been a myth etched into crumbling mountain shrines. But when the Deep-Mining Guild of Oakhaven struck a vein of "Heart-Fire" ore—shimmering crystals formed from ancient draconic blood—they didn't just find wealth. They woke a god. Ignis-Kahl was not merely a beast; he was

The sky over the Kingdom of Aethelgard did not darken with clouds; it darkened with scales.

The "Rage of the Dragon" was not a singular event, but a week of relentless scouring. Ignis-Kahl didn't eat the livestock; he incinerated the very soil so nothing would ever grow again. He dismantled the Great Bridge of Valerius not with tooth or claw, but by hovering above it until the iron expanded and the masonry cracked under its own weight.