The Dragon’s Ascension: Echoes of a Relentless Commander

Greetings, lords and ladies of Gotwic, Paradox is back with another action-packed story filled with spine-chilling thrills and suspense. In this chapter, we will again discuss the journey of "Dragonkiller". After losing too much T5 in the previous battle, he was very careful with the targets and only hit decent targets. But this again made him bored very quickly, so he again started looking for a target in nearby kingdoms and wanted to test his strength after training T5 in high quantity to increase damage. After looking for some time, He was able to locate a target named"Praymoon". A fairly strong Spear target with his battle gear. It was not very ideal as he had too many troops and also he was in his battle gear, increasing the danger several fold, but Dragon was bored with the weak target and also with too many T5 in his army, he was bloodthirsty for merit points. So he jumped to that kingdom and scouted the target in the hope of peeking at its Combat rate and reinforcements. But reinforcements were not present in the castle, and his CR was not that high, so it would be a manageable target; just the first few hits would be very costly. Then, without delay, Dragon attacked the target with the full Infantry regiment.

The field trembled as Dragon Killer unleashed his first strike, a bold, thunderous assault meant to shake the enemy’s castle.

But though the banners of victory would rise by the end, it was a hollow triumph, one drenched in sweat, struggle, and the blood of too many fallen soldiers.

His Infantry legions marched with pride, striking head-on against a defence built on Spear synergy, and yes, Infantry counters Spear, but the victory came at a price too heavy for celebration. The walls cracked, the enemy lines broke, and 87.11 million power fell beneath Dragon Killer’s blade… yet the echo of that win rang empty.

Because while the enemy was shattered, Dragon Killer’s forces paid deeply, losing 31 million power in return. The clash was brutal, the numbers cruel. His troops fought with heart, but the imbalance in numbers and the absence of Kevin, the commander whose skill could’ve turned the tide, left the army bleeding even as it stood triumphant.

This was no clean conquest. It was a grinding, painful victory, the kind that leaves a commander silent even in success.

“Victory,” Dragon Killer muttered, staring over the smouldering walls, “but at what cost?”

The first hit was done, the castle had bent, but so had he. This battle would be remembered not for glory, but as a reminder that even victory can also be wounded.

The war had only begun, and Dragon Killer knew that he would need not just strength, but balance.

Now, after the first victory, but still losing too much in the first Dragon, I was sure that the first victory would be very brutal for both players, so after observing the report and consulting his fellow hunters, Dragon said:

"Should I continue?" Everyone asked him to attack again before he went under the dome, and that many losses went to waste.

The second march of Dragon Killer was nothing like the first.

Gone was the reckless fury; in its place stood precision, discipline, and a commander who had learned the price of his own power.

The memory of the first victory still lingered, a triumph painted in too much red. He had won, yes, but it had cost him dearly. And Dragon Killer never made the same mistake twice.

This time, as his banners rose against Praymoon’s castle, there was a colder focus in his gaze. The Infantry ranks were reforged, strengthened, and above all, reinforced with greater numbers of T5 troops, the hardened elite bred for decisive warfare. These weren’t the same soldiers who had bled in the first siege. These were avengers.

When the battle began, it was a storm unleashed.

Praymoon’s defences cracked under the sheer weight of Dragon Killer’s advance, formations shattered, walls splintered, and strategy crumbled. 136.42 million power fell before his army’s might, while his own losses barely reached 17.43 million, a staggering turnaround from the pain of the first hit.

The T5 Infantry, relentless and unyielding, carved through enemy lines like steel through smoke. Their shields locked, their blades sang, and every fallen comrade from the first battle seemed to march with them in spirit.

This was not just revenge; it was redemption through mastery.

Dragon Killer had evolved. The army that once bled for a victory now commanded it.

“Strength without wisdom burns itself out,” he whispered as the castle fell. “But strength refined by loss… becomes unstoppable.”

The second strike was pure balance, power guided by patience, victory earned through learning. The first win hurt. This one healed.

The final march of Dragon Killer was not just a battle; it was destiny fulfilling itself.

The air was heavy before the strike. The fields that had seen fire and fury twice before now stood silent, waiting. The soldiers knew. The banners knew. Even the earth itself seemed to know, this would be the end.

When the horns sounded, Dragon Killer’s Infantry surged forward one last time, not in desperation, but in absolute control. Every rank, every step, every heartbeat moved as one. This was not the army that had bled in the first fight. This was the army that had been forged through it.

And when they hit, they hit like thunder wrapped in steel.

Praymoon’s defences crumbled.

Walls shattered. Commanders broke. The resistance that once stood proud was swept away like ash in a storm.

By the end, 105 million power of Praymoon’s might lay in ruin, crushed beneath Dragon Killer’s relentless Infantry. His own losses? Barely 4.3 million power. A whisper compared to the devastation he unleashed.

That number alone told the story: this was no ordinary victory; this was dominance made manifest.

As the smoke cleared, the once-mighty Praymoon did the only thing left: he raised the bubble. The symbol of surrender, of retreat, of final acceptance that the war was over.

The sight was almost poetic.

Dragon Killer didn’t celebrate. He simply stood at the edge of the ruins, wind tugging at his cloak, watching that fragile bubble flicker in the air. The war that began with loss and blood had ended in silence and awe.

“He hides now,” Dragon murmured, his voice low, “but not from me, from what I became.”

The soldiers behind him didn’t cheer. They just stood, proud, exhausted, reverent. They knew what they had witnessed wasn’t just victory… it was ascension.

From the agony of the first fight to the perfection of the last, Dragon Killer had carved his legend into the stone of war itself.

And as the final embers dimmed, only one truth remained:

“The Dragon does not seek the storm. He becomes it.”

Dragon Killer’s journey rose from costly struggle to flawless mastery. His first victory bled him, the second refined him, and the final strike defined him, destroying 105M power with only 4.3M lost. Praymoon fell beneath his might and bubbled in surrender. From pain to perfection, the Dragon became unstoppable.