Time fractured into crystalline shards. Lunrik stared into the dragon's ancient, glowing eyes, sensing the incandescent heat building behind them, bracing for the inevitable fiery dissolution. Simultaneously, he was acutely aware of the hunter leader poised directly behind him, the low, predatory hum of the energy rifle aimed downwards, towards Kaelith and the unconscious Eryndor trapped on the ice field below. Death felt imminent, a physical pressure converging from multiple directions, promising annihilation.
Before the dragon could unleash its devastating breath, the hunter leader acted decisively. He didn't fire a bolt of raw, destructive energy like the one that had nearly incinerated Kaelith earlier. Instead, the rifle emitted a high-frequency pulse, almost silent to Lunrik's ears but carrying immense contained power. A shimmering, dome-shaped field of crackling blue energy instantly snapped into existence on the glacier floor below, centred precisely on the ice outcrop where Kaelith shielded the unconscious Eryndor. It enveloped them completely in less than a heartbeat, the air within the dome warping visibly like extreme heat haze, the blue light pulsating rapidly, casting eerie, dancing shadows.
Kaelith cried out, a sharp, involuntary sound of surprise or pain, cut off abruptly as the energy field solidified around her. Lunrik saw her flinch violently, her body momentarily spasming as if hit by a powerful electric shock, before she slumped slightly against the ice wall within the dome, still conscious but clearly disoriented, weakened, and trapped. Eryndor remained limp beside her, utterly oblivious, perhaps shielded from the field's direct effect by Kaelith's body or simply beyond reacting.
The dragon, which had been drawing in a massive breath to incinerate Lunrik, paused mid-intake, its intended attack aborted. Its massive head swiveled sharply downwards towards the sudden eruption of contained energy below. The blue dome was clearly an artificial construct, an intrusion, an anomaly in its domain far more sophisticated and controlled than simple fire or brute force claws. It let out a low, questioning growl, the sound rumbling deep in its chest, mingled with rising anger and confusion. Its intelligent eyes narrowed, assessing this new, technological interference with wary, profound hostility. Its immediate focus shifted entirely from the insignificant figure of Lunrik on the ridge to the perplexing, irritating source of the energy field below.
Lunrik felt a surge of desperate, contradictory emotions – stark terror for Kaelith trapped within the field, mingled with a wild flicker of hope. Kaelith was contained, affected by the strange energy, but she wasn't dead. The dragon was distracted. But the hunters… what was their ultimate goal with this containment field? It looked designed to stun or subdue. Non-lethal protocol for Target Designation Frostmane. They were actively trying to capture Eryndor, and Kaelith, his fierce protector, was caught directly in the crossfire, an unintended consequence or perhaps an acceptable secondary capture.
Alaric's ghost screamed, sharp and pragmatic in the sudden reprieve: Escape! Now! Dragon distracted, hunter focused below! Clear path off the ridge! Survival dictates withdrawal!
But Lunrik couldn't move, couldn't obey the cold survival logic. He couldn't abandon Kaelith, trapped and potentially subdued within that shimmering blue cage below. The choice made back at the ruined village with Finn, the unspoken Dravenwolf pact to protect, the sheer weight of Kaelith's unwavering faith in him despite his fractured nature – it held him fast, overriding Alaric's ruthless survival calculus. He would not leave her.
The hunter leader behind Lunrik lowered his humming rifle slightly, observing the effect of the energy dome on Kaelith and Eryndor, perhaps communicating silently via some internal comms system with his two subordinates who were still pinned down, recovering, on the other ridge. He seemed momentarily satisfied, the primary objective seemingly progressing despite the chaotic draconic interruption. He hadn't anticipated, however, the sheer, explosive fury of a grieving Elder Wyrm confronted with yet another unnatural, technological violation of its sacred territory.
With a roar that cracked the very air around them, shaking loose showers of ice shards from the surrounding peaks, the dragon turned its full, undivided attention away from Lunrik and the distant, groaning serac pillar. It lunged, not downwards towards the energy dome protecting its quarry, but with terrifying speed and ferocity upwards, towards the immediate source of the technological interference – the hunter leader standing exposed on the ridge directly behind Lunrik.
The hunter reacted with combat reflexes honed to inhuman levels. He spun instantly, raising his rifle again, firing a rapid volley of contained energy blasts directly at the charging dragon's massive, horned head. The bright blue bolts struck the dragon's obsidian scales with explosive, concussive force, leaving fleeting scorch marks and eliciting a bellow of pain and raw outrage from the colossal beast, but they clearly lacked the sheer penetrative power required to pierce its nigh-impenetrable hide. They served only to infuriate it further, like hornet stings against thick leather.
Ignoring the stinging, superficial impacts, the dragon slammed bodily into the ice ridge where the hunter stood. Its claws, each thicker than Lunrik's torso, tore through rock and ancient ice with terrifying ease. The hunter leader leaped backwards desperately, firing again even as he moved, trying to evade the colossal onslaught, but he was far too slow, far too close. The dragon's massive head swung like a living battering ram, driven by millennia of power and raw fury, catching the hunter cleanly mid-air. Lunrik heard a sickening, wet crunch of armour and bone. He saw the dark-clad figure flung violently backwards off the ridge, tumbling end over end like a broken doll down the steep, shadowed ice slope behind, disappearing into the frozen depths. The advanced energy rifle flew from his lifeless grasp, spinning through the air before clattering onto the ice just yards from Lunrik's position.
The dragon roared again, a sound of savage triumph mingling with its underlying grief, shaking its massive head, momentarily distracted by its swift victory over the immediate technological threat. It hadn't forgotten the other intruders, but its focus was fractured, its attention momentarily fixed on the spot where its latest challenger had vanished.
This was their chance. The only chance.
"Kaelith!" Lunrik screamed, raw adrenaline surging through him, galvanizing him into desperate action. He snatched up the fallen energy rifle – it felt strangely weighted in his hand, humming faintly with residual power, alien technology against his skin – and scrambled recklessly down the treacherous ice slope towards the glacier floor, sliding and stumbling, ignoring the risk of falling into a hidden crevasse in his frantic descent.
Below on the glacier floor, the energy dome containing Kaelith and Eryndor flickered violently. With its originator abruptly and violently eliminated, its power source or control signal perhaps instantly disrupted, the pulsating blue field wavered, growing rapidly transparent before dissipating entirely with a soft, final hiss of escaping energy. Kaelith pushed herself away from the ice outcrop, shaking her head sharply, trying to clear the lingering disorientation and the faint buzzing sensation left by the field. Her first instinct was to immediately check on Eryndor, who remained oblivious, a limp burden beside her.
Seeing Lunrik scrambling frantically towards her down the slope, Kaelith's eyes widened, her expression a mixture of relief and urgent warning. She gestured wildly towards the dragon, which was now turning its attention slowly back towards the glacier floor, its baleful gaze sweeping towards the other two hunters who were still frozen in place on their distant ridge.
Those hunters, witnessing their leader's shockingly swift demise and the dragon still very much active and enraged, finally broke cover. Not towards Kaelith and Eryndor, surprisingly, but away. They moved with incredible speed and disciplined coordination, sprinting across the ice field in the opposite direction from which they came, abandoning their captive target, clearly prioritizing their own extraction now that the situation had gone catastrophically, fatally wrong. Self-preservation had overridden mission objectives.
Lunrik reached the bottom of the slope, slipping on the ice but managing to keep his footing. He sprinted towards Kaelith, the fallen energy rifle surprisingly cumbersome and awkward in his unfamiliar grip. "Are you alright?" he gasped, reaching her side, his breath pluming white in the frigid air.
"Shaken," she admitted, her voice still tight with adrenaline, pushing herself fully upright. She glanced briefly at the rapidly retreating hunters, then back with trepidation at the dragon, which was now lumbering slowly across the ice field, seemingly uncertain which remaining annoyance to eliminate first – the two fleeing figures, or the two werewolves near the Frostmane captive. "We need to move. Now. Take Eryndor!"
Lunrik didn't hesitate. He slung the unfamiliar energy rifle awkwardly over his shoulder by its strap – maybe it could be useful later, maybe not, but leaving advanced weaponry behind felt foolish – and hauled the dead weight of Eryndor Frostmane over his other shoulder in a fireman's carry. The unconscious Frostmane heir felt surprisingly heavy, a leaden anchor threatening to overbalance him on the slick, uneven ice.
"Which way?" Lunrik grunted, scanning desperately around the vast, exposed glacier. Retreating the way they came meant climbing back up the treacherous slopes directly under the dragon's potential notice. Following the fleeing hunters seemed tactically foolish and might lead them into other traps.
Kaelith pointed decisively towards the far side of the glacier, towards a series of deep shadows marking what looked like ice caves or deep fissures carved into the glacier's edge, near the base of the towering, ominous Shadow Peak itself. "There! Caves! Our only chance for cover! Move!"
It was a desperate gamble. The caves could be dead ends, unstable, or worse, part of the dragon's own lair system. But staying out in the open on this vast, windswept expanse of ice was certain death. Together, Kaelith taking point again, sometimes literally supporting Lunrik's balance as he struggled with his heavy burden, they began a stumbling, sliding retreat across the hostile glacier, racing against the unpredictable whims of a grieving dragon and the rapidly encroaching shadows of the high peaks.
The shattered ice beneath their feet seemed to reflect their scattered fates – escape uncertain, allies non-existent, enemies converging from multiple directions, the burning weight of vengeance momentarily forgotten beneath the overwhelming, primal burden of simply surviving the next few minutes.