The cheer. Not from one soldier. From every soldier who saw. The cheer that said: he is here. He is fighting. He is with us.
"It is Lord Raven!"
"He is naked!"
"Who cares? He is fighting! FOR LORD RAVEN!"
The cheer spread. Through the ranks. Through the formations. The sound of men who had been losing and who now, seeing their leader walk naked onto the battlefield, believed they could win.
The sky darkened.
Not from clouds. From wings. A dragon. A huge, scaled, winged beast, descended from the red sky. Not one of his. A demon dragon. A creature of the demon realm. The wings were black. The body was armored. The mouth was fire. The fire gathered. In the throat. The glow. The heat. The dragon was preparing to strafe the human lines.
Raven looked up.
His violet eyes found the dragon. The beast was a hundred meters above. The fire was building. The glow was bright. The heat was palpable.
He raised his hand.
