As I entered the castle hall, I was taken aback by its sheer size; it was nearly as expansive as the castle hall itself. What's more, a newfound sensation washed over me—an incredible swiftness that defied the physical laws of the grand space. Despite the considerable expanse of this place, it felt as though every destination was within arm's reach. I moved with an uncanny speed, navigating the vastness effortlessly.
Inside the expansive fortress, a formidable sight awaited my gaze—a colossal red dragon, resting serenely in the heart of the stronghold. Its presence was awe-inspiring, a living embodiment of power and might.
The dragon's scales gleamed with a deep crimson hue, each one reflecting the light with a fiery intensity. Its wings, though folded in repose, bore the intricate patterns of age and wisdom. Massive claws, sharp as razors, rested at its sides, and its eyes, closed in slumber, held a knowing wisdom that hinted at untold experiences.
This majestic creature was no ordinary dragon; it was a level 4 behemoth, two tiers above the five remaining dragons poised for attack. But the question lingered—would the sheer might of this guardian be enough to repel the impending assault?
As the guardian dragon stirred into action, it wasted no time in targeting the closest of the remaining attacking dragons. Its fiery breath lanced out with precision and annihilating the first of the five dragons. The unfortunate creature, already weakened, met its end swiftly.
Yet, the odds remained challenging as the remaining four dragons rallied against the guardian.
As the guardian dragon made its determined approach toward the four remaining foes, a sense of dread washed over me. I knew, deep down, that even with its impressive level, my dragon couldn't win this battle alone. Desperation gripped me as I tried everything within my power to command it.
I shouted orders, I struck its mighty frame, and in a moment of sheer desperation, I even bit down on its scales, unleashing a bellowing roar that echoed through the fortress. The dragon's response was unexpected and chaotic. It seemed to lose its bearings, firing scorching fireballs in every direction, as though combating an invisible enemy right before its eyes.
It was then that the realization hit me—it was attacking me, its rider. However, its fiery onslaught, wild and erratic, miraculously failed to hit its intended target. It was as if a stroke of fortune had granted me a boon—a miraculous case of friendly fire activation. An opportunity had presented itself, and I knew I had to use it to our advantage.
It was a bizarre dance of sorts, a life-or-death game of follow-the-leader. I found myself as the proverbial carrot on a stick, with me as the carrot and the guardian dragon as my steadfast follower. If I moved forward, it advanced; if I veered right, it followed suit; and when I darted to the left, it mirrored my every move. In the center, we halted, the dragon poised to strike.
With the controller set, we embarked on our daring mission. I urged the dragon forward, and it surged with unparalleled speed. My heart raced as I steered us to the right, overtaking the Quad of dragons, their fireballs going awry as they struggled to keep pace. I felt a surge of exhilaration as the four dragons began to follow my lead, chasing after me with relentless determination. The tables had turned, and now, they were under my control. Yes, this was it—a moment of triumph in the face of overwhelming odds.
The Quad of dragons doggedly pursued me, their attempts to catch up growing increasingly futile. As we circled the last remaining archer tower, it came to life, launching volleys of arrows at the relentless pursuers. True to their nature, the dragons prioritized engaging enemy troops over attacking the buildings, and this was their Achilles' heel.
Their inability to match my dragon's speed meant they were caught in a never-ending loop, chasing after me in vain. Their roars of frustration filled the air as they struggled to keep up. Meanwhile, the archer tower's relentless barrage made their pursuit all the more challenging.
As the seconds ticked away, the attacker's hopes dwindled. When the time finally expired, victory was mine, albeit a narrow one. The attacker had managed to secure only one star, reaching a 78% destruction rate, tantalizingly close to a three-star victory. Though it was a close call, I had managed to safeguard the castle hall, preserving our stronghold. In the end, it was a triumph in the face of adversity, and I had not only survived but thrived.
