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The air was thick with the scent of the forest, mingling with the cool bite of the approaching evening. I had resumed my peregrine falcon form, wings slicing through the sky with purpose, the rhythmic beat of my flight matching the tempo of my racing mind. I couldn't help but replay the images I had siphoned from the memories of the village chief. from his memories I got information about many types of dragons and their respective places and weaknesses. They were clear and vivid, illuminating an undiscovered truth: Night Furies, the elusive shadow-dwellers of the dragon world, were far more than mere legends whispered among dragonkind.

Night Furies—dubbed the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself—were not just rare; they were unparalleled. Stealth and intelligence intertwined in a creature capable of vanishing into the night, only to re-emerge with a vengeance that was as sudden as a lightning strike. They were members of the feared Strike Class, a category reserved for dragons whose power could devastate armies. Small but formidable, their wings spanned an impressive 50 feet despite their modest 20-foot length. What intrigued me most, however, was the unique mechanism they possessed: retractable teeth, an adaptation that made them appear harmless—toothless—until they decided otherwise.

"Such brilliance," I thought, weaving between columns of low clouds. "Such power." The hunter in me ached to see one up close, but I was not alone in this pursuit. A man named Grimmel the Grisly—a dragon hunter whose reputation for cunning and cruelty preceded him—was already on the move. My pulse quickened at the thought of his looming presence. I couldn't let him get there first.

For three days, I pushed myself across sprawling landscapes and labyrinthine woods. The journey felt like a slow bleed, a month reduced to fleeting glimpses of star-studded skies and sun-drenched mornings. Just as frustration began gnawing at the edges of my resolve, a sound cut through my focus: the unmistakable chime of the Random Gift System. Its familiar ring reverberated in my ears, bringing an abrupt halt to my weariness.

[You passed through a dimensional gate: Finral Roulacase's spatial magic.]

Recognition shot through me like a jolt of electric magic. Finral—the character from Black Clover with his signature Spatial Magic: Fallen Angel Gate. The ability to manipulate space, crafting portals that could bridge distances in the blink of an eye. How ironic that, at this moment, the system chose to bestow this boon. I was torn between a deep grin and incredulous laughter.

The moment the notification faded, a green grimoire materialized before me, emerald light glinting off its cover. But gravity had its claim, and it began its swift descent toward the trees below. Panic clawed at my chest—my inventory couldn't activate in this form, and the book was slipping through my grasp. Without hesitation, I folded my wings tighter, rocketing downward, the wind screaming past me.

My keen falcon eyes caught the glow of the grimoire as it tumbled, pages fluttering like wings themselves. It wasn't just falling; it was waiting, as if it recognized me. When I was within reach, I extended a talon and felt the electric pulse of magic bind me to it. The book stopped mid-air, suspended and trembling with a potent force. Its cover flared open beside me, revealing the labyrinthine script that began to materialize in real-time. Magic circles, complex and interconnected, traced themselves on the pages. The connection was palpable; the book was an extension of my will, responding as though it had waited an eternity for this exact moment.

"Fascinating," I mused, my eyes catching the now-filled spells dancing across the pages. The power hummed through me, aligning with my pulse. I knew, without uttering a word, that the magic could be invoked by sheer intent alone. A whisper of thought, and space itself could bend.

Testing it now, in pursuit of Grimmel and the Night Furies, would be reckless. But my mind raced with the possibilities. With this grimoire, I could outmaneuver him, escape if cornered, or even find the Night Furies before he did—all in a fraction of the time. The air hummed with a promise, and I felt the tension ease from my wings as a newfound confidence spread through me.

With a single thought, I activated a simple spell, and a portal unfolded before me, translucent and shimmering. The forest below blurred as I sped through the gate, emerging moments later further ahead. From the ground, anyone who glanced up would see an impossible sight: a falcon and a floating, ancient book weaving through the sky, disappearing and reappearing with ethereal precision.

The chase had shifted in my favor. As I soared ahead, the grimoire pulsing with latent power at my side, I knew this hunt was no longer just about dragons—it was about redefining the very nature of the game itself. Grimmel may have been feared, but I was Hecate Targaryen, and this world had yet to witness my full power.

---

The island stretched beneath me, an oasis of verdant green and jagged rock, but today it was nothing more than a battleground, torn asunder by a brutal conflict. From my perch high above, nestled in the craggy peaks that overlooked the scene, I felt the weight of the chaos below. The sun blazed down, casting long, ominous shadows that seemed to reflect the bloodshed taking place. A strange sensation stirred in my chest, a pull of both fascination and distaste as I observed the unfolding struggle.

The Vikings, wild and ferocious, charged across the island with a singular purpose: to annihilate the creatures of darkness. Their axes flashed in the sunlight, a deadly dance of steel and fury. Each step they took seemed to shake the earth beneath them, their battle cries echoing in the wind. They moved like a well-oiled machine, honed by years of raiding and war.

But their opponents were no mere beasts. The Night Furies, sleek and shadowed, weaved through the sky with grace and speed. Their black scales glistened like midnight, their wings cutting through the air with a silent elegance that belied their deadly power. Their yellow eyes burned with a fire that mirrored the battle raging below, a fire I couldn't help but recognize. They were creatures of the night, born of shadow, and I admired their resilience as they fought to protect their home.

I watched as Grimmel the Grisly made his presence known among the fray. His lean, wiry frame cut through the melee with unsettling precision, like a shadow among shadows. His cold eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating, always assessing. It was clear he had no fear of the beasts he hunted, no reverence for the creatures he sought to eradicate.

A group of Vikings broke through the line, rushing forward with reckless abandon, only to be met by the fury of the Night Furies' retaliation. Their claws raked through the air, tearing into flesh with terrifying precision. The thunder of their roars reverberated in my bones. Yet, despite their sheer power, the dragons were being overwhelmed. The numbers were against them, the odds too great. For every Viking that fell, two more seemed to take their place. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning flesh and the roar of combat, a sound that made my own pulse quicken.

I couldn't help but feel a surge of something akin to admiration for the dragons. Their bravery was undeniable, even as their numbers dwindled, and I couldn't shake the thought that, in another life, I might have found myself among them. Perhaps, in some ways, I already had. My bloodline had always had an affinity for the creatures of the air—an ancient connection that tied me to them in ways I couldn't fully comprehend.

But I was no dragon.

As I descended from the skies, the wind whipping around me, I could feel the power coursing through my veins. My transformation from peregrine falcon to human was seamless, a fluid shift as if my very bones were made for it. In an instant, my grip tightened around my new hammer, an artifact I'd summoned from my inventory, my new hammer, It's time to use it.

I plummeted toward the battlefield like a comet, the ground rushing up to meet me. The air grew thick with anticipation, and then—

Boom!

The impact sent a shockwave through the earth, a crackling force that reverberated for miles. The ground split beneath me, sending bodies and debris scattering in every direction. For a brief moment, the entire battlefield fell into a stunned silence, as if nature itself paused to witness what had just happened. Dust and debris swirled around, making it impossible to see anything clearly. But the chaos was soon to return.

From the haze of smoke and rubble, a familiar figure emerged—Grimmel the Grisly, his thin frame cutting through the air as he regained his footing faster than I had anticipated. His calculating eyes locked onto me, and before he could even finish his threat, I raised my wand with a casual flick.

"Incendio!"

Boom!

The flames shot out from the tip of my wand like a tidal wave, surging toward Grimmel with a violent crackle. His eyes widened as the inferno engulfed him, the searing heat radiating even from my distance. He staggered back, his skin singed, but his eyes still burning with hatred. He didn't have time to recover fully, though, before the dragons, sensing the shift in the tide, found a renewed strength to fight on.

The Night Furies, now emboldened by my intervention, let out deafening roars as they took the offensive once again. They flapped their powerful wings, sending gusts of wind that sent the Vikings reeling. It was as if they had recognized me as an ally, and in a moment, the balance of power shifted. The battle had truly begun anew.

Grimmel was shouting commands to his men, his voice strained with both rage and confusion.

"ATTACK! ATTACK THEM ALL!" he yelled, desperately trying to rally his forces.

But it was too late. The Vikings were already faltering. Their spirits broken by the sudden onslaught of flames, magic, and dragon might, they began to stumble. I held my hammer tightly, feeling the power flowing through me as I advanced. The X-Playing Cards I had contracted had enhanced my strength beyond measure. My movements were faster, more precise, and my every swing felt like an unstoppable force.

I wasn't just a mere witch in this battle; I was a storm, a fury incarnate. I let loose a barrage of spells in between crushing Viking skulls with my hammer. My enemies barely had time to react before their world turned into a chaotic whirlwind of fire and destruction. The battlefield seemed to buckle under the weight of it all.

The tides were shifting, and I could see the fear in Grimmel's eyes as he realized he was losing control. His subordinates fell one by one, unable to withstand the combined might of the dragons and my newfound strength. The Vikings, who had once charged fearlessly, now found themselves retreating in disarray.

"RETREAT! RETREAT IMMEDIATELY!" Grimmel screamed, his voice a mixture of fury and fear.

But it was too late. I had already marked my target. Grimmel was mine.

I located him near the heart of the battlefield, surrounded by the last remnants of his forces. His eyes were wild, desperate. He knew he could not win this. But I wouldn't give him the chance to flee.

I stepped forward, my feet slamming into the earth with a force that rattled the ground beneath me. Then, with a single, powerful leap, I shot into the air, propelled forward by the strength of my magic and the raw power of my X-Playing Cards. Below me, a Night Fury with a scar over its left eye saw my intentions. Without hesitation, it soared upwards, allowing me to land gracefully on its back. The air felt electric as we shot toward Grimmel, the wind rushing past my face.

But just as I was about to bring my hammer down on the wretched man, something unexpected happened. From the dense forest on the edge of the battlefield, a massive figure emerged. A dragon I had never seen before, its scales a strange shade of emerald and red , its eyes glowing a fiery red. It was unlike any dragon I had encountered, and it moved with a surprising power.

Grimmel, seeing his chance, began to retreat, dragging himself away from the chaos, his eyes flicking between the dragons and me. But I couldn't let him go just yet. I still had unfinished business.

The battle was far from over.

As I hovered in the air, my mind racing, I studied the dragon before me. Its massive form loomed like an unstoppable force, but there was something… off about it. The way its eyes were unfocused, as if it were in a trance, yet its body moved with a mindless ferocity. Every instinct told me something was wrong. This wasn't a creature acting of its own will—it was being controlled.

The realization hit me like a hammer blow: this dragon was hypnotized, or something of the dort ,bound to protect Grimmel—the very man who made his reputation by hunting and killing dragons. The dragon's mind had been manipulated, its natural instincts twisted into a weapon, a tool of Grimmel's machinations. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw the needle-like appendage on its tail—poison, undoubtedly.

I frowned, my grip tightening on the hilt of my hammer. This was a battle not just against Grimmel and his Viking horde, but against something much darker. This creature was a victim, forced into service by a mind that had no respect for its life or autonomy.

Grimmel, seeing that the tides had turned against him, wasted no time in retreating. With alarming speed, he mounted his ship, his remaining warriors scrambling to follow. Their escape was swift, a final dash toward the safety of the horizon. But as they fled, I couldn't shake the feeling that they were running from something far worse than just the dragons. They were fleeing from me.

The hypnotized dragon, still in pursuit of its new master, moved with single-minded purpose, its body acting as though it had no thought for self-preservation. I could feel the weight of the situation press down on me. The Night Furies were following me now, their eyes locked onto the target, ready to protect me. But I realized they were dangerously close to the poisoned dragon—close enough that one wrong move could send them spiraling into a world of hurt.

I had to act quickly.

With a swift flick of my wand, I cast a Binding Charm. The spell wrapped around the dragon's body like invisible chains, holding it in place. As it struggled, I followed up with a Stupefy, the stunning charm hitting its mark with a flash of blue light. The dragon's body went limp, its hypnotized state broken for a brief moment. It tumbled to the ground, its massive form crashing against the earth with a thundering roar.

In that split second, I realized how fragile dragons were when faced with magic. Their brute strength was unmatched, but their defenses against the magical arts were far weaker than I had expected. There was a vulnerability to them—something I could use to my advantage.

I didn't waste any time. Using the power coursing through my veins, I levitated the dragon's unconscious body into the air, careful not to let it fall back into the grasp of the hypnotic state that could bring it back to its dark task. I released my hammer from my inventory, stowing it away for now, and with a final glance at the fallen dragon, I shifted back into my peregrine falcon form. My wings cut through the air as I soared higher, the sky opening up before me.

Behind me, I could hear the beat of the Night Furies' wings, a sound that was both reassuring and chilling. They followed my every movement, their instincts attuned to mine, drawn to me like a flock of loyal warriors.

I focused my attention on the retreating Viking ships, now distant but not far enough to escape my wrath. I could see the sails fluttering in the wind, their movement slow and disjointed, as Grimmel's remaining warriors scrambled to regroup. The water beneath them shimmered with the light of the setting sun, but the moment of serenity was short-lived.

I had one move left.

I pushed my wings harder, diving down toward the ships, my speed increasing exponentially. I knew what I had to do. As I neared the ships, I pulled my body into a tight, controlled dive, my wings locked to my sides. My eyes locked onto the lead ship—the one where Grimmel himself stood, his face twisted in fury as he surveyed the wreckage of the battlefield below. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

I reached to my hammer. With a sudden, violent flick of my wrist, I summoned it back into my hands. The weapon hummed eager for destruction. With a single motion, I hurled it downward, releasing all the force I had gathered.

Boom!

The hammer tore through the air like a meteor, crashing into the side of Grimmel's ship with a deafening explosion. Wood splintered, metal screamed in protest, and the very water beneath them seemed to churn as if it, too, was caught in the chaos of the moment. The ship groaned and listed, its hull splintering as the hammer's force sent it sinking into the depths of the sea.

The Vikings screamed in terror as their vessel began to break apart. Some leaped into the water, while others scrambled in a frantic attempt to save themselves. The sound of splashing and desperate cries filled the air as Grimmel's ship tilted precariously. But it was already too late. The force of my strike had been overwhelming.

Grimmel's face contorted with rage, his expression one of disbelief as his escape route was destroyed. But the sight before him was even worse—the other ships that had been caught in the blast were already sinking, their crews caught in the current, struggling to stay afloat.

Above, the Night Furies circled, their sharp eyes scanning the wreckage, their roars a triumphant song to mark the end of this battle. The poison dragon I had subdued lay unconscious, a victim no longer a threat.

The battlefield had quieted, but not in peace. The Vikings were scattered, their forces broken, their ships sinking into the abyss. Grimmel had lost, and for all his cunning and brutality, it was the power of magic and dragons that had brought him to his knees.

I hovered above it all, a silent observer in the sky, the winds carrying my thoughts away as I watched the last remnants of the battle fade into the distance. The war was over. For now.