Inferno of the Black Dragon Print

Inferno of the Black Dragon Under a blood-red sky, the colossal black dragon, Zarnoth, descended upon the battlefield like a harbinger of doom. His scales, darker than the abyss, shimmered as he unleashed a torrent of fire that turned men and steel to ash. The once mighty armies of the kingdom, united in a desperate alliance, trembled as their strongest warriors fell before Zarnoth’s fiery wrath. The ground quaked with each of his steps, and his roar echoed like thunder across the desolate plain. Arrows shattered against his impenetrable hide, and magic spells fizzled out in the heat of his infernal breath. Zarnoth's eyes, glowing embers of malevolent intelligence, scanned the battlefield, seeking the leaders who dared defy him. With a single swipe of his massive claw, he scattered the remaining knights, their cries lost in the cacophony of destruction. Zarnoth’s fire carved a path of annihilation, reducing siege engines to molten slag and fortresses to crumbling ruins. The stench of charred flesh filled the air as the last remnants of resistance crumbled. As the smoke cleared, Zarnoth stood alone amidst the carnage, the once proud banners of men now reduced to smoldering rags at his feet. The battlefield was silent, save for the crackling of fires and the distant wails of the dying. Zarnoth, the embodiment of devastation, had triumphed. He spread his wings wide, casting a shadow over the land, a dark omen of the age of terror to come.