The dragon lunged.
Its jaws wide enough to swallow a chariot, wide enough to swallow him descended toward General Titus. The blood lake churned beneath it, waves of crimson lapping at the shores of the illusionary world.
Titus did not run.
He manifested.
His killing intent that invisible force that had frozen knights and shattered wills took form in this world. It was like purple steam at first, curling from his body like smoke from dying embers. Then it condensed. Grew solid. Became something real.
Black rods.
They materialized around him thick, dense, absolute. One of them was triple the size of a giant, its shadow falling across the blood lake like an eclipse.
Lancelot looked at the rods and smiled.
"Oh well." His voice was calm, almost lazy. "If that's the case..."
He raised Arondlight.
"Then let more devour you."
He shouted.
"ARISE, DRAGONS OF THE LAKE!"
The blood lake exploded.
From its depths, more dragons rose not one, but dozens. Their scales were the color of dried blood, their eyes burned with molten fire. They opened their jaws and spat.
Hot magma.
It poured from their mouths like liquid death, arcing toward Titus, toward his black rods, toward everything.
One splash came close close enough to burn. Titus moved.
His black rods shot forward, multiplying, replicating. He used them as a wall, stacking rod upon rod, creating a barrier between himself and the magma.
The lava melted through.
Rod after rod dissolved, dripped, vanished. The heat was immense enough to warp steel, enough to destroy.
The dragons kept spitting. Kept pouring. The barrage was relentless.
Titus's jaw tightened.
"Fuck you, Lancelot."
He strained. Forced his body beyond its limits, beyond the boundaries he had set for himself. His killing intent erupted not in controlled bursts, but in a flood.
The purple steam became a storm.
Black rods filled the illusionary world not just around him, but everywhere. They covered the blood lake, blocked the sky, pierced through the dragons. They were so numerous, so dense, that there was barely space to breathe.
"Try this on for size." Titus's voice was raw, strained. "I will pierce everything in sight. Until there is nothing."
Lancelot watched him watched the rods multiply, watched the dragons fall, watched the general pour everything he had into destruction and laughed.
"You meat head."
He shook his head.
"This guy. He's dumb." He gestured at the illusionary world around them at the blood lake, at the sky, at the very fabric of the reality he had created. "Does he think he can destroy my world?"
His smile widened.
"Well. Let's see you try."
The chapter ended there in the space between the general's fury and the knight's confidence, between the rods that pierced everything and the world that refused to break.
The dragons fell.
The rods rose.
The battle continued