"Vrozakul, King of the Demon Plane? Well, I am Logan, King of Highrule—and your army attacked my kingdom. I guess that means we're at war, huh?"

Logan spoke, mostly to buy time. He didn't expect to win—not yet. Whatever had taken over Jonathan's body was in a league of its own.

He'd only felt that kind of pressure near Velmora, the spirit of darkness.

But at least he didn't have to face it alone.

He had his three dragons. If they worked together, they might just be able to stall or damage the enemy enough to turn the tide.

[Silis, Drakhel, Narok—we fight together here. Leave the demons to the wolves. They're on our side now. With the army's help, they can handle them.]

His summons answered the call, flying to his side and preparing their strongest attacks. Vrozakul, however, didn't look the least bit threatened.

"You know," the demon said with an amused sneer, "it still surprises me how the spirits gifted you heroes with power. I tried to gain their blessing when I entered this boy's body, but alas… the earth spirit abandoned him. At least you won't have to worry about me stealing your body—though I do think we could accomplish much together if you'd be willing to cooperate."

The smirk on Vrozakul's face lit a fire in Logan's chest. He didn't hesitate.

Both Drakhel and Narok charged their strongest skills, while Silis remained ready to defend.

"Why would I ruin what I've built just to join you?" Logan asked, his voice hard. "Just tell me this—why are your demons invading? What's the merit in coming here and destroying a place like this?"

"Oh? They didn't tell you?" Vrozakul chuckled and gestured casually toward the two demon generals in the distance. "I suppose they forgot. Convenient, isn't it?"

He paused, his tone darkening.

"But my long-lived generals remember. You see, you cry out about your home being invaded—how tragic. But what about mine? The humans of this world took my generals—just as they took you heroes—used them to wage their wars, and then expected them to return quietly. All the while, my lands were left undefended, slowly destroyed."

The demon king's eyes narrowed as he extended a hand toward Logan, palm open.

"Tell me, Hero. You're a king. What would you do if your precious dragons were taken for nearly a thousand years… and never returned?"

Logan raised his own hand. His two dragons hesitated but didn't halt the formation of their ultimate attacks.

"See, that's what I needed to hear. So you're mad. I think I get it now. But we don't live for hundreds of years. What you did… you attacked me. Personally. What did I have to do with what happened all those years ago?"

He paused, truly considering the demon king's words. What would he do if his dragons had been stolen—if his kingdom had fallen because of it? How far would his own rage reach?

He didn't have an answer.

He was only fighting this war to protect the world from the demons' onslaught—not to avenge ancient wrongs he had no part in.

"Think about it, Hero," Vrozakul said, his voice lower now. "I see it. I've planted doubt in your heart. Do you really know the spirits? They gave you power… but at what cost?"

His gaze sharpened.

"Nothing is free, kid. Nothing. Find that out—before it's too late."

He let the moment hang for a breath, then turned slightly, voice taking on a mocking edge.

"As for my role today… I merely came to test you heroes. I brought my pets to play. Two of them have already been taken… just like that. What a shame."

Vrozakul looked at both Selvora and Virexa before turning back to Logan.

"You can keep them, hero—if you can drive me away today. I'm bored, you see… and this world needs to burn a little more before I feel better."

That was when Logan gave the signal to his dragons. Both were ready.

Narok cloaked the battlefield in a haze of darkness, while Drakhal drained the blood from the fallen around him, directing the crimson river toward the spot where Vrozakul had last stood.

Logan, blessed by darkness, could see clearly through the gloom—but what he saw wasn't promising. The demon king was unfazed. He spotted the incoming attack and conjured a shield strong enough to contain it.

However, Logan noticed something else—the demon king struggled, if only slightly. It meant he wasn't at full strength yet… or so Logan hoped. The first shield cracked, only for another to take its place as the field continued to bleed, feeding Drakhal like a river of power.

All those whom George, now a lich, had intended to claim for his army were reduced to nothing but skeletons.

"Great… more," Vrozakul muttered. "Let's fight for real, Tamer. I believe you have one more dragon hiding about."

Logan froze. Had the demon king seen through their plan?

A massive pillar of magic engulfed Vrozakul just as he finished speaking—but even that failed to pierce the demon king's overwhelming defenses.

Logan, meanwhile, was deep in thought. He needed to enter the battle himself but hesitated to get too close to such a powerful being.

Instead of launching an attack, he checked his mana. He was about to reach for Narok—planning to merge—when something distant called to him.

A new dragon had arrived… or was drawing near.

Everyone turned toward the approaching creature. Even with the sun blotted out by smoke, clouds, and magical debris, its body radiated brilliance.

[Don't expect much of me, hero. I only came because of Ferra…]

Myriad, the crystalline serpent, retained its form as a serpent, though now it possessed wings. It was as if its leviathan body had simply grown a pair to take flight.

Everyone could feel the power the beast carried. While it wasn't enough to overshadow the presence Vrozakul exuded, it was enough to make even the demon generals glance toward their king in unease.

He, however, only smiled at the new dragon.

"To have four of such beasts… and I hear there's another fighting in the northern kingdom. You are truly blessed. We demons have dragons in our world as well… though they would rather die than be tamed."

As he spoke, all four of Logan's Sovereigns let out thunderous roars of defiance—offended, as if mocked.

Logan merely laughed it off.

"Is it possible you failed to tame one… and now you're jealous? Well, fine. We still have a fight ahead—and I'm just getting started. Myriad, if you're here, that means you'll be fighting, right? Let's see how this works."

He stepped closer to the radiant beast as it descended beside him. Myriad, the crystalline dragon, pulsed with a white aura—powerful yet pure, its energy clearly light-elemental. The creature instinctively tried to recoil, but couldn't resist.

Logan placed his hand against its side, beginning the merging process.

Within seconds, they became something new.

Logan's height surged by nearly a meter. He retained his arms and legs, but a long, gleaming spiked tail now trailed behind him. Crystal scales lined his back and shoulders, while radiant veins of light traced down his limbs like glowing runes.

Now standing a little over three meters tall, he felt the crystals embedded in his body absorbing mana. Each one pulsed with energy, ready to enhance whatever skill came next.

And he had the perfect one in mind.

He began with Aetheric Pulse—a blast of sonic and light energy that surged outward, amplified by the crystalline structures on his back. The wave was focused and directed straight at the enemy before him, who stood frozen, clearly caught off guard by the sudden merging of hero and dragon.

"Surprised me there… and this attack—"

Before Vrozakul could finish, Logan followed up. He spun and slammed his tail sideways, smashing into the demon king and sending him flying for the first time.

But Vrozakul wasn't alone on that flight.

He reached out mid-air and grabbed onto the tail, trying to slow or halt his trajectory.

"Strong… but you still need to work on your tactics," the demon king said, smirking. "This skill is powerful, but it's clear—you just got it. You move like a toddler."

Despite Logan's efforts to yank his tail back, Vrozakul held tight, his grip digging in.

"This body, though... not bad," the demon king added, voice low with amusement. "Still, this useless friend of yours didn't do much exercise, no wonder the spirit gave up on him... Strong, yes—but not sharpened. Nothing refined."

Then, with a grunt, Vrozakul pulled hard on the tail and channeled his strength.

And for the first time, he resorted to using magic to enhance himself.

Logan felt the shift immediately. His tail was yanked downward with overwhelming force—he was lifted off his feet and slammed into the ground with a bone-jarring crash.

But before the demon king could repeat the move, Logan reacted.

The crystalline spikes along his tail shot outward like a burst of shrapnel, gleaming with radiant energy. Vrozakul was forced to release his grip, leaping back as the shards cut through the air between them.