The Tyrant Wyrm was waiting for them.
It reclined upon the mire, stretched out and mocking them, watching as they approached. It grinned, not threatening them, not attacking them, but instead letting them come to it: but it held the advantage here, and it was confident enough to know it. It was arrogant, and yet at the same time, Sol knew their only chance to defeat this beast was to take it by surprise... and hope that she was right about this monster's terrible powers.
They stood before it, and the Tyrant Wyrm looked at them, mocking and cruel. Titan bared his teeth in anger unnatural to him, as the poison beneath his hooves tormented the nature he so loved. Morgan pretended fearlessness, but she could not hide her trembles, and her paladin lover was half-hiding at her side, whimpering and afraid. And Sol stood, not confident, not unafraid... but angry. Filled with bloodlust, and desire for revenge.
There was no exchanging of words, no offers of surrender or parlay. There were only four ponies, facing one foul and terrible beast, before Sol leapt forwards and struck the first blow, blasting it with fearsome holy fire.
The Tyrant Wyrm almost laughed, even as its head was knocked backwards, and then it struck forwards, clawing, and biting, and breathing out terrible poisons. But the ponies were swift, running rings around the Wyrm, pelting it with magic from all angles as they weaved back and forth around it.
But the Wyrm was undaunted: if anything angered it, it was that its prey refused to stay still, refused to fight it directly. The creature clawed and snapped at them, but soon enough lost interest in the game of cat-and-mouse, instead raising its head high and roaring those terrible Black Verses to the sky.
The words reverberated through the air, shocking the ponies, making them stumble... but then, fearlessly, Sol whirled and called upon her magic, bringing great meteors down upon the head of the Tyrant Wyrm. One after another they smashed into the beast, surprising it, halting its cruel recitation: the Wyrm was driven down, and immediately, Morgan and Titan converged upon it, striking without mercy at its neck.
The beast's head was severed, in a great spray of blackness and blue smog... and yet still, the monster climbed back to its claws, gurgling in fury from all that remained of its throat. Its severed head roared soundlessly even as it turned to nothing but slime and porcelain and clay, while the body stomped and stormed back and forth, sightless, and yet the neck already beginning to regenerate.
The Paladin fled in terror from the sight; Morgan fought on, only because of fear of this creature, and fear of her siblings; Titan struck, harder than he had ever dared strike before; Sol called upon every spell she knew, raining hell and destruction upon the creature.
But it was not until a lucky blow tore through the chest of the beast that it finally collapsed: even with most of its back torn to nothing but jagged ruin, even missing a tail and a leg, it had continued to try and regenerate until the fatal arrow of magic pierced its dark heart. But once that struck true through its breast, the creature fell... and yet even then, it seemed to laugh, as it rotted away to nothingness. Even then, it seemed to taste victory, and not defeat and failure, in its own death.
And as Sol removed the plugs from her ears, she could still hear its poisonous words in the air... and found herself wondering if there was any chance to save this land at all.
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