40k: Midnight Blade.

Chapter 822, Section 19: Dragon Hunting (End of Volume)

“First, we have to do the preparatory work,” Norn Coburn said.

He picked up a spear about 1.8 meters long, examined it closely under the pale light of the hunting preparation room, and then slung it over his shoulder.

The last member of the Shitar tribe, the young boy, followed his example and carried the repaired spear that he had been holding on his back.

A month has passed since the trial ended—everything is over, the scene of the world collapsing is as if it never happened, there is almost no radioactive dust in the sky during this month, and the sun can always clearly float in its corner, mercilessly staring at everyone.

But Imo of Shthar didn't care about that; his only concern now was hunting dragons.

His eyes sparkled; he hadn't slept well for days, yet he still possessed such energy. Ashhammer noticed this, but for some reason, he didn't offer the friendly smile he usually showed.
Don't get me wrong, he still smiled, but the smile was very complicated.

He picked up another shield and then nodded to the boy.

"Let's go."

They left the chapter's base, which was still undergoing maintenance.

In that catastrophe, both of the Fireborn's outposts suffered extensive damage. This was unusual, as these structures, built of sturdy alloys and adamantite, would activate their void shields like a sanctuary during trials, casting all threats away where they needed to be.
But what's that saying again? There's always a first time for everything.

Yes, there's always a first time, so a large group of people stood outside the gates of the compound—a construction crew, servants, and a red priest. The priest was the most conspicuous among them, not because of his status, but because of his size.

He was as big as a tank, with multiple servo arms extending from his back making him look like a terrifying tentacle monster. Fortunately, he still had half a human face, although it was swollen, pale, and old, it was indeed a human face.

As Norn and Imor walked out of the camp gates, he was talking to a giant beside him. The giant listened quietly to the rapid roar of the 'chariot,' his strange, pale purple lips habitually curving downwards.
Even Imo could tell that he wasn't really interested in listening to the priest's long-winded speech.

"What are they saying?" the Shitar asked curiously.

Ashhammer glanced quickly at the priest, while trying to remain composed and not looking at the other person next to him, and replied without looking to the side, "Probably some trivial family matters."

"Huh? They talk about this kind of thing?"

"of course."

"I thought..." Imo muttered a few words, then shook his head, changing the subject with the characteristic whims of a teenager. "Where are we going to hunt dragons?"

Norn pointed eastward toward them.

Walking among the semi-solidified lava, scorching rocks, and still unhealed fissures in the earth was no easy task, slowing them down considerably. It wasn't until two hours later that they found a suitable high ground to observe the fire dragons in the distance.

The highlands were newly formed due to landmass collisions, and there is a high probability that they contain minerals, but this is irrelevant to the two people in the present.

They bent over and walked to the very top, then quietly lay down, squinting as they observed the fire dragon that was expanding its territory.

It was eating, or rather, eating it alive, its right claw pressing down on the pterosaur's body, rendering it immobile with barely any force.

The pterosaur screamed and hissed, struggling incessantly, but to no avail. Soon, the fire dragon devoured its heart, then listlessly tossed the carcass aside and slowly walked away.

These powerful predators, dragons, do not travel in packs; each has its own territory, and once they reach adulthood, they must claim a piece of land that belongs solely to them. However, they are mostly lazy, and only now will they actively hunt any dragon that dares to enter their territory.

They do this every year after the trials have ended, and the Fireborn never stop them.

After all, they are not the only ones who choose to expand their territory at this time; there are other dragon-like beasts, some of which are particularly abhorrent and will actively harass the nearest residents.

“That’s it,” Norn said softly. “Look at its tail, do you see it?”

"Why is it so dark?"

"This means it has entered the second stage of its life."

"A second phase?" Immo was confused. "I had no idea such a thing existed."

"So now you know—this is a very convenient way to determine their age. The first stage is under 100 years old, when their tails turn a burning red. At this time, they can't breathe fire yet, but they can already defend themselves with their bodies."

As Norn spoke, he turned his head and focused his gaze on what was behind Imo.

"So, child, if you had really intended to hunt dragons with that broken spear, you would have died a terrible death."

The shtar man awkwardly turned his face away and muttered, "You've said this so many times already, I know, can you please stop mentioning it?"

That complex smile reappeared on Norn's face, but it vanished in an instant.

He continued, "The second stage, like now, represents its two-hundred-year-old age, with its tail turning a charred black. It has mastered the ability to breathe fire and is evolving towards the next stage. See the bumps on its back? When it turns three hundred, those two bumps will turn into wings."

“Wings?!” Imo’s eyes widened.

Ashhammer nodded calmly.

"Then they can fly. Now listen to me, your broken spear has been reforged, and it now has the ability to harm a fire dragon. You've probably already tried it out in the training grounds. But I still have to say, this isn't any hunt you've ever been through before, so throw away all that experience and just listen to my instructions."

Immo nodded heavily and didn't mention anything about hunting alone again.

A few minutes later, they applied a special scenting agent that Norn had brought to their bodies and smeared it down the side of the high ground.

The fire-breathing dragon seemed oblivious to this, continuing its stroll along the edge of its territory, occasionally leaving claw marks or tail sweeps to warn any beasts attempting to enter. It was clearly in a state of pride and self-satisfaction; its swaggering gait was genuine.

Even so, this is still strange, at least for Imo.
He had never imagined that a fire dragon could have such human-like emotions.

Norn stopped, raised his hands, and made several tactical gestures. Imo struggled to decipher them, taking almost half a minute to understand what they meant.

He nodded and lay down on the spot as Norn instructed. Norn turned his head, gently took the spear off his back, and suddenly straightened up.

The fire dragon turned around in an instant.

Its noble golden eyes, surrounded by crimson scales, narrowed slightly. It raised its head and gently rubbed the ground with its front paws. Norn struck its shield with its spear, the dull sound echoing through the air.

He moved forward amidst the sound, his gait surprisingly steady, completely unaffected by the complex terrain. Imo saw the muscles in his back bulging; the simple fabric could not conceal the explosive power within.
The fire dragon growled, as if in warning, but also as in invitation, but Norn remained completely unmoved.

Then the fire dragon opened its mouth.

In an instant, a nearly pure white pillar of fire shot out from between its sharp teeth.

Imo stared in disbelief, unsure how to describe the scene—a gigantic beast, seven to nine meters long, opened its mouth and spewed out a pillar of fire at least ten meters long.
He trembled instinctively, a mixture of fear and courage. He thought of his mother's blood-covered face, and the earnest admonitions of the elders and shamans.
The shtar man nimbly rose to his feet and crept towards the other side in the shadow cast by the high ground. He trotted along, his footsteps swallowed by the sound of the roaring flames.

One or two seconds later, another voice joins in.

It was a strange, continuous hissing sound, much like the sound of the massive construction machinery operating in front of the Ashhammer stronghold, but also like a person continuously emitting a strange, cold laugh.

Imor turned his head and saw that the sound actually came from Norn's shield—he was calmly walking forward, the shield in his hand was already red-hot, but it was still blocking the fire dragon's deadly flames for him.

He looked almost as if he were walking on a sea that was gradually being split in two.

Immo was captivated by the scene, but he didn't forget his mission. He reached the designated spot and retrieved the spear from his back. Its dark surface gleamed with a dull sheen, and its reforged, dangerous curve seemed to beckon Immo: Use me to hunt!

The boy also had this desire, but he restrained himself, simply gripping the spear tightly, then crouching down to wait for his chance.

Not far away, Norn finally approached the fire dragon.

It closed its mouth, the flames went out, but its golden eyes seemed to burn. A deafening roar resounded, echoing across the shattered land, startling a group of pterosaurs that were resting on the outskirts.

They screeched as they soared through the sky and flew into the distance. Imo glanced up at them, and when he looked down again, Norn had already plunged his spear into the fire dragon's chest—such a deadly attack, yet it seemed indifferent, barely bleeding at all.

It raised its forepaws, and Imo's vision blurred. He heard another loud bang, and then saw Norn stagger back several steps, the spear in his hand still stuck in the dragon's body, its tightly packed scales firmly holding the spear blade in place.

It growled again, this time with a warning in its voice.

“No,” Norn said in a low voice. “I have an appointment.”

The fire dragon charged at him angrily—its momentum was beyond human resistance, and it would not be an exaggeration to describe it as an earthquake.

However, at the same time, Imo saw Norn make a gesture in his direction.

The boy stood up instantly.

He had already learned to hunt with his father when he was three years old. His father had been the best hunter until he died during his trials. So, after he turned six, he learned from his mother. His mother was second only to his father, and their union was blessed by the entire tribe at the time. Imo did not disappoint them.

He showed amazing patience from a very young age; a six-year-old child could even go hungry for days just to hunt the razor serpent, which only appears at dawn.
And now, his father's and mother's experience, as well as their talents, are showing in him.

Immo stretched out his left hand as far as he could while pulling his right hand back. His feet were spread apart as he stood up, toes curled up, and his waist rotated to an astonishing degree. He looked like a special bow, the bowstring stretched to its limit, and although the force was not great, the arrow was extremely special.

The arrow is covered with a disintegrating force field, and it has now been activated.

Imo exhaled a short breath and took a large step forward.

The fire dragon suddenly turned its head.

A flash of black and blue light appeared, then revealed its true form a second later, before coldly piercing the fire dragon's neck.

The incomprehensible power of Imo—those pulsating blue arcs of electricity—instantly reduced the seemingly indestructible scales to nothingness, then the spearhead penetrated deeper and deeper, as if the weapon possessed a consciousness, as if a pair of hands were pushing it from behind, guiding it into the dragon's body.

The beast roared in pain, and blood gushed out.

But it did not run away.

This is highly unusual. In the past, all the wild beasts Imo encountered, no matter how ferocious they were, would flee at all costs if they were injured. They might show extreme ferocity at times, but that was just a facade, a desperate attempt to gain a chance of survival before leaving.

In the wild, there is no difference between injury and death, especially in an environment like Nocturne.

Once you bleed, many things will follow the trail of blood, lingering in the night, devouring you completely.

But the fire dragon did not run away.

Instead, it turned around and stared at Imo with its golden, fiery eyes.

Norn lunged at it, but the beast, as if by some premonition, swung its thick, pillar-like tail, sending him flying a great distance.

While doing this, it still looked at Imo as if he were its lifelong love.

Then it revealed its fangs.

Immo couldn't describe what he saw in its eyes; he didn't understand—hate me? It hated me?
But the problem is no longer important.

The fire dragon charged at him like a madman, recklessly and without regard for the consequences. It didn't even bother with Norn, who had already run back, nor with the spear that was continuing to penetrate its flesh. It just ran, just kept running—the earth shook, and a colossal creature, at least seven meters long, charged towards him, its mouth wide open, the smell of sulfur growing ever closer.
Imo wanted to leave, but his feet seemed to be rooted to the spot.

"Run!" Norn roared.

He appeared before Imo without me noticing, standing between him and the fire dragon. He held his shield in both hands, facing its charge head-on. Imo finally took a step, but only managed to stumble a few steps to the side. His mind was filled with the fire dragon's eyes—"You hate me? Why? Because I hurt you?"
No reason.

Norn was sent flying into the air as if he had been hit head-on by a chariot. When he landed, his shield was shattered in two, and the fire dragon was already in front of Imo.

It stared at him indifferently, its gaze chillingly cold.

The boy's heart formed a special connection with it, and he suddenly realized that the fire dragon wanted to kill him, but not because of the spear he had thrown, even though it was now almost separating the fire dragon's head from its body.

It was dying, and he was the one who started it all, but that's not why it hated him.

The fire dragon opened its mouth—its life was almost completely consumed by the spear, but that didn't stop it from biting off the boy's entire right hand and most of his body.

He fell to the ground, blood gushing out like a waterfall. The fire dragon grinned triumphantly and slowly closed its golden eyes.

The flames stopped burning.

Immo collapsed to the ground and began to convulse.

Norn Corbene limped over, covered in blood, his hands limply folded at his sides.

He crouched down beside the boy, gazing at his face as it was gradually swallowed by darkness. The boy was still alive, but soon to die; his consciousness hovered on the boundary between life and death.
A few seconds later, his eyes shifted and looked at the Ash Hammer.

Creak, creak, creak, creak.

"I...I..." The boy gasped, opening his mouth with great effort, but still couldn't finish speaking. "So, I..."

Norn nodded slowly.

The boy shook his head helplessly. The darkness continued to spread, engulfing the human parts of his body. The blood had stopped flowing.

However, a peculiar radiance appeared on his face.

"I killed it, didn't I? I hunted a fire dragon." He suddenly asked this, not knowing where the strength came from.

“Yes,” Norn said. “You have kept your vow.”

The boy laughed loudly—then he uttered a word in ancient language, with piety and pride.

mom.

Then comes the second word.

flame.

A moment later, the raging fire slowly ignited.

(End of this chapter)