391 Chapter 390: The fall

My body emanated a brilliant shade of purple as I pushed my limits to control the surging cosmic energy. My brows creased as I struggled to command the mana, a formidable force that surged and swirled in response to my desperate plea. Usually, I didn't need to 'forcefully' command it, just a request and it was happy to comply, though this time, I did not have time for that. This time, I had to take an active role, I had to direct it myself. I could feel my strength waning, but there was no choice; I had to maintain this Herculean effort to keep the rifts at bay.

One rift after another manifested, each like a maw of darkness threatening to consume us. My attention darted ceaselessly between them, my cosmic mana forming makeshift seals and barriers in their erratic wake. It was a relentless battle, a test of my willpower, and I knew that I couldn't falter now.

Amidst this frantic struggle, Immy displayed remarkable leadership. Her voice rang out with authority as she directed the forces around us. Her experience in leading an army in moments of crisis was evident, and her orders were executed with precision. 'Did she learn that from back when she was in the mortal realm?' I found myself wondering.

"Those not hurt, to the front! Help redirect the fog!" Immy's command echoed loudly. "MOVE!"

The Dragons and Deities responded swiftly, their coordinated efforts focused on dispelling the choking fog. Spells and magic intermingled as they pushed back the encroaching mist. Some even resorted to drastic measures, directly ingesting the fog, their sacrifices allowing the rest of us to breathe easier.

With the fog situation now under control, my undivided attention was back on the rifts. The cosmic energy continued to surge and respond, forming impromptu barriers to shield us from the imminent threats. It was a grueling battle, but we were no longer teetering on the brink of annihilation. The odds were shifting in our favor, and a glimmer of hope pierced through the darkness of the battlefield.

The battlefield gradually descended into a haunting stillness, the rifts that had threatened to consume us no longer tearing through the fabric of space. The malevolent fog that had threatened to smother us had dissipated like a shadow retreating from the light. My watchful eyes moved ceaselessly, ensuring no remnants of the enemy lurked nearby.

"Retrieve our fallen, they deserve a proper burial" The command left my mouth, carrying the weight of my heavy heart. Each life lost weighed on my conscience, a stark reminder of the responsibilities that came with leadership. I knew their sacrifices were not in vain, but the burden of their deaths was mine to bear.

In the midst of this solemn aftermath, my mother approached us. Her eyes blazed with the remnants of her earlier fury, though she struggled to mask it beneath her maternal concern. There was no need for words as she wordlessly used her tail to pull Immy and me into a tight, protective embrace. It was a rare display of vulnerability from her, and I found solace in her comforting presence amid the chaos that had unfolded.

Finally, her voice broke the silence, a voice filled with a mixture of pride and relief. "I'm proud to see you have made it." Her words were a reassurance that we had emerged from this battle intact.

We remained locked in that position for a few seconds before Mother moved away, the air heavy with the gravity of the situation. My mother, ever the leader, began issuing orders to her loyal followers, coordinating the cleanup and retrieval of fallen comrades. Each life lost was a somber reminder of the price we paid for our victory. A sense of responsibility weighed heavily on my shoulders, as I questioned my decisions and whether I could have done anything differently to prevent these losses.

In the midst of this internal turmoil, I couldn't help but ask, "Where did Grandmother go?" Her absence was noticeable, given her central role in our battle strategy. The unknown gnawed at me, and I anxiously awaited an answer.

My mother's response was cool, a contrast to the warmth of her earlier embrace. Her gaze drifted toward the horizon as she mentioned, "She should be back soon." Her words held an unspoken concern, a subtle hint of the challenges Grandmother might have faced in bringing my father back.

Following her gaze, I spotted a distant figure gradually approaching. Grandmother's tiny human form appeared almost insignificant compared to the massive corpse she carried. Yet, her determination shone through as she carefully transported my father's lifeless body across the expanse of space.

A heavy silence enveloped us as Grandmother approached, cradling the immense, battered body of my father. The sight was as gut-wrenching as it was awe-inspiring. My mind, along with the minds of those around me, seemed to go blank in the face of such a solemn moment.

Immy's struggle to contain her emotions was evident, and it was a sentiment I shared. The sight of our father's lifeless form, marred by gruesome wounds, was a painful reminder of the brutal cost of this battle. His once-mighty figure, now riddled with massive holes in his chest, his tail was severed and his right limb was missing. Yet, even in death, his regal bearing remained intact. It was as if he refused to relinquish his dignity, commanding respect and reverence as only a Dragon could. Although one eye was gone, the other was left eternally open, glossy but sharp, it was as if he would suddenly sprung back to life.

My mother, a cauldron of smoldering fury, was a stark contrast to the respectful silence that enveloped us. Her eyes, still ablaze with anger, betrayed a hint of the storm raging within her. It was evident that the pain of losing her mate ran deep, and she struggled to contain the tempest of emotions threatening to consume her.

Grandmother did not acknowledge our presence, instead, she looked at my mother and spoke, "Let's go back. With this, we got all of them back. It's time to put them to rest."

Mother was shaking but still nodded. Our massive army then followed behind, carrying our dead and injured as we retreated back to our plane. All the time, however, my eyes remained glued on the once-mighty figure of my father, now lifeless.