Death Guns In Another World

Chapter 2102: The Heart of the Maw

"Formation Omega. Scattered approach. Elara, draw its attention from above. Bryn, Inga, hit the wings. Astra, Freya, target the eyes. Sigrid, protect the strikers. Signa, watch for the tail."

She looked at each of them. "I will be in the shadows. Watch for my signals. Move."

They moved.

Elara shot upward, her ice forming steps in the air, carrying her to the ceiling. She threw ice shards at the wyvern's head. They bounced off its thick scales, but the creature looked up. It roared.

The battle began.

Bryn and Inga sprinted forward, sliding across the ice, their blades aimed at the wyvern's wings. It saw them coming and swept its tail. Signa was there, her ice shield taking the blow. The impact shattered her shield and threw her back, but the tail missed Bryn and Inga.

They reached the wings. Their blades cut deep. The wyvern screamed and tried to turn, but Elara was on its head now, stabbing at its eyes. It shook wildly, throwing her off. She fell, twisted, and landed hard on the ice.

Astra and Freya saw their chance. While the wyvern was distracted by the pain in its wings, they threw their lances. One struck the wyvern's eye. The other missed, shattering against its skull.

The wyvern howled. Blind in one eye, wings torn, it thrashed in fury. Magma splashed around it. The heat was becoming unbearable.

Maria watched from the shadows. She saw the pattern. The wyvern was dangerous, but it was panicking. Panicking creatures made mistakes.

She stepped forward. "Bryn, Inga, fall back. Astra, Freya, prepare. Elara, get up. Sigrid, with me."

They followed without question.

Maria walked toward the wyvern. It saw her—a small figure in white, walking calmly through the heat and chaos. It roared and lunged.

Maria did not move.

At the last moment, she raised one hand. Ice exploded from her palm, not as a weapon, but as a wall. A wall of pure, impossibly cold ice that met the wyvern's charge and stopped it cold.

The wyvern slammed into the ice and rebounded, stunned.

"Now," Maria said quietly.

Astra and Freya threw their lances into its remaining eye. Bryn and Inga, recovered, sliced deep into its other wing. Elara, limping but determined, drove her daggers into its throat.

The wyvern thrashed one last time. Then it went still.

Silence.

The seven women stood around the massive corpse, breathing hard, bleeding, but alive. They looked at Maria.

She walked to them. She looked at each wound, each exhausted face. Then she spoke.

"You lived. You fought as one. You adapted."

She paused. It was the longest pause they had ever heard from her.

"Good."

It was one word. But to the seven women, it was everything. Their commander had praised them. Their commander saw their worth.

Elara almost smiled. Almost.

Maria turned toward the final tunnel. "The young dragon awaits. We rest ten minutes. Then we finish this."

°°°

The deepest level was smaller than the others. A round chamber, warm but not hot. At its center, curled on a nest of bones and gold, slept a young dragon.

It was beautiful. Its scales were deep blue, like the heart of a glacier. Its horns were silver. Its breath came slow and deep, sending wisps of frost into the air.

Maria studied it. Young. Powerful. But not yet fully grown. Not yet wise.

She turned to her squad. "This one is yours. No interference from me. You lead. You decide. You execute."

The seven women looked at each other. Then they looked at Elara.

She stepped forward. "I'll lead," she said quietly. "Astra, Freya, you're on ranged. Bryn, Inga, you hit fast and retreat. Sigrid, you're defense. Signa, you're on me. We draw it out, we hit it hard, we don't stop moving."

Maria said nothing. She simply stepped back into the shadows.

The seven women moved.

They surrounded the sleeping dragon. Elara raised her hand and dropped it.

They attacked as one.

Ice lances flew. Ice blades swung. Ice shields rose. The dragon woke screaming, its scales sparking with cold energy. It was confused, surrounded, hurt.

But it was a dragon. It fought back.

Its tail swept, catching Signa and throwing her against the wall. She crumpled but forced herself up. Its claws raked Bryn's side, drawing blood. She staggered but kept fighting. Its frost breath filled the chamber, slowing them, freezing their limbs.

They did not stop.

Elara was everywhere, directing, attacking, encouraging. "Astra, left! Freya, high! Bryn, get out! Inga, now!"

They moved like they had trained their whole lives for this moment. Like they were one creature with seven bodies.

The dragon slowed. Its movements became desperate. Its eyes, once fierce, now showed fear.

Elara saw it. "Together!" she screamed. "All together! NOW!"

Seven women leaped as one. Seven ice blades drove into the dragon's heart.

The dragon shuddered. Its eyes went wide. Then it collapsed, shaking the chamber with its fall.

Silence.

The seven women stood over the dead dragon, panting, bleeding, trembling. They had done it. They had killed a dragon. Alone. Together.

They turned to look for Maria.

She stood at the edge of the shadows, watching them. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then she walked forward, past them, to the dragon's corpse.

She placed a hand on its blue scales. Then she turned to face her squad.

"You are no longer students," she said quietly. "You are warriors. You are Frozen Valkyries."

The name hung in the air. The seven women felt it settle over them like a cloak. A title. An identity. A family.

Elara stepped forward. "Commander," she said, her voice rough with emotion. "Thank you."

Maria looked at her. Something passed behind her ice-blue eyes. Something warm, quickly hidden.

"You earned it," she said. "Now gather what you can. We return to the castle. There is more training tomorrow."

The seven women laughed. Not loud, not long. But it was laughter. Real laughter.

Maria turned away so they would not see her face. But as she walked toward the exit, the smallest thing happened.

Her lips curved. Just slightly. Just for a moment. They could become useful soon.