Hammer and Harmony: Corruption

The rising dawn revealed two armies at the ready. A massive conglomerate of griffons and saddle arabians were shoved into a much-too-small battle plain outside of Canterlot.

Opposite that army sat a laughably small phalanx of earth ponies, with thousands of pegasi floating above them. Lining the walls of Canterlot stood thousands unicorns, spells on the tip of their horns.

Dawn peaked, and the griffons sat, waiting for the sun to rise a bit more. With no warning, cannons roared out from the air and mountaintop above, the armies signaling the start of the battle. The sound of first impact rang through the mountains.

Separate from the phalanx of earth ponies and the occasional pegasus or unicorn stood a small group of ponies. They were the combined fears of the griffon army. An alicorn, a unicorn, two pegasi, and two earth ponies stood in their gleaming armor. Behind them stood two identical dragons outfitted in near the same, but with two shimmering purple swords held it their talons.

Once the sun rose, the charge began. The phalanx took the impact just as they did in Appleloosa: hard, but with little loss of ground. Just as in the past, a loud voice echoed throughout the Phalanx, “SHIELDS! REPEL!”, “SPEARS FORWARD!”. As these sounds echoed through the army, the six mares and two dragons stood in the center of battle.

The mares were everything the griffons were expecting. They were the Demonic 6, the legendary ponies who had godly powers at their command. Pretty much every griffon had heard the stories of their power, and how any who faced them rarely survived. But today was different. Today, the entire army was being thrown at them. Maybe the demons would succumb to numbers.

But when the battle started, that didn’t happen. Those unlucky enough to be near any of them died a horrible death.

Some died by electrocution from the cyan Pegasus, who called lightning from the clear sky. The yellow one made them turn their weapons on themselves, none questioning her orders.

Others suffered the agony of suffocation from the white unicorn, or the instantaneous decay from the purple Alicorn. At least her method was painless.

All too many simply collapsed when confronted by the horn of the Pink Banshee, losing their will to fight, only to be trampled to death by their comrades. Like the purple Alicorn, the orange mare dispensed painless death, her Hydra flashing in the morning light.

But the griffons were not expecting the sheer ferocity of the twin dragons. Thousands of griffons and saddle arabians fell to the six mares, none even coming close to injuring any of them. But the dragons were the ones who directed the carnage.

When the battle began, an ancient urge had overtaken Spike, an urge to see all his enemies burn and drown in their own blood. He’d found himself licking his new teeth in anticipation. Under normal circumstances, he would've been horrified by this.

But now, here, on this battlefield . . . he could let it out, let the urge control him as it saw fit. Now, he needed that urge to push him forward. The ancient instinct to protect his horde, many of whom stood beside him, now kicked in. Conscious thought fell away as Spike swung his sword into the first griffon he came upon.

The blade shimmered . . . it liked the feeling of blood. Spike indulged it. Violently.

Wheeling through the griffons, he simply acted and reacted, his form changing from stabbing griffons through the chest or throat, to hacking off limbs and heads, to ripping out throats and wings with his teeth, to the occasional burning alive of some of the more pitiable souls. The twin dragons tore through the griffon army at an alarming pace, his best friends behind him every step of the way.

Spike slowly felt his breath quicken and his body ache, conscious thought returning to him as he looked at his twin selves, and saw a dragon he didn't recognize. His armor was dented, scratched, and blood-soaked from battle. His scales were an ugly mix of purple and blood. His teeth gleamed red in the sunlight. His twin blades were glowing with power, fed by the blood of his enemies. No runes shone on his armor as it did with his friends.

But then again, he didn't need it. He was a predator. His instinct were Kill, Destroy, Protect What Is Mine.

Looking in front of him, he realized something. The griffons had retreated slightly. Griffon blood dripping from his forehead, Spike looked up and saw the sun high in the sky, and noticed for the first time the lack of cannonfire.

Two things happened then: he felt the earth shift underneath him, and he saw a massive black form appear from behind the griffon army. It spread enormous wings, so large they almost blotted out half the sky.

With a jolt that brought his twin halves back together, he remembered what Shining Armor had told him only a two days ago.

Titanus. He swallowed stiffly. He’s bigger than I thought.

“We need you to either distract him the entire battle, or put him out of commission.”

Gritting his teeth in determination, Spike took to the sky, ignoring his protesting friends. As he got closer, he eyeballed the black dragon to be at least ten times his size. He put himself within feet of its nose and spread his arms, blocked its path to Canterlot.

The large dragon almost went cross-eyed trying to look at Spike, he was so much smaller. A massive voice yarred him to the bone, “A MERE HATCHLING DARES BLOCK MY PATH?” The dragon laughed, licking his teeth as he reared up in front of Spike, “I SHALL ENJOY KILLING YOU, WHELP!”

With that, Titanus put himself into the air with a massive downstroke. He swung a paw nearly as large as Spike, talons gleaming in the sun from their sharpness.

With a thought, Spike split himself into two with the Gemini. Two Spikes floated above and below where he used to be. Titanus’s paw swung through the empty air between them.

With a downstroke, Spike surged towards Titanus. As one, Spike used both his bodies and swung the twin swords into the dragon’s shoulder, the sharp blades cutting into the nearly impenetrable dragonhide. Recoiling at the unexpected pain, Titanus turned to fireball Spike . . . only to find there were now two of him, each holding a gleaming purple sword.

His growl felt like an earthquake. “YOU HAVE A GODBLADE . . . DO NOT THINK IT WILL SAVE YOU, HATCHLING!” He re-engaged Spike, swinging another paw.

After blocking Titanus’ strike, Spike flapped hard and closed the small gap between himself and Titanus’ chest, holding his blades in a stabbing position and attempting to strike the dragon’s heart.

WHIP!

Spike was met by a tail, Titanus flipping his massive barbed tail around and into Spike, sending him spiraling towards the ground. The tail had struck Spike on the armor, but the impact had cracked ribs and bruised a wing. Struggling to stay flying Spike looked up to see the elder dragon chasing him.

Titanus opened his maw and emitted massive jet of flame that rivaled his own size. Spike dodged to his right and to his left, and flew towards the oncoming dragon. Two paws attacked Spike, one on either size. Both bodies rolled to avoid the attacks, but Spike’s other half was getting too far away, and he was starting to suffer a migraine.

Ignoring the pain, Spike drove his swords into the soft lining of the dragon’s wings, before his left half was smacked towards the ground with a swipe of his tail. The migraine grew exponentially with the sudden change in distance between his two halves. Spike struggled away from the elder dragon towards his other half.

But he soon realized his mistake, as he was now hovering above a mountainside. Titanus saw his chance. With another swipe of his powerful tail, he sent the small dragon flying, landing heavily on the mountainside, and was rewarded with the cracking of bones and wings.

The impact proved too heavy for the young dragon. He dropped his swords, fading his clone out of existence, his vision flickering from the pain. As he saw Titanus approach, he realized one, if not both of, his wings were now broken. Even if they weren't, he was in so much pain he couldn't move. The Dragon loomed large in his vision, and laid a crushingly heavy paw on Spike’s battered frame, placing a single talon near where his heart was. He struggled to breathe.

“IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME SINCE ANYTHING INJURED ME, HATCHLING. FOR YOUR PRIDE, I WILL GIVE YOU A SWIFT DEATH.” He pressed his talon harder against Spike’s chest, forcing the air from his lungs.

The armor did not break. Gizo’s work was too good for that to happen. But it did bend, crushing Spike’s ribcage more and more with every breath. No . . . No . . . It can’t end like this! Spike desperately glanced around, looking for a way to escape. One of his swords lay at his right side, just within reach. He grasped the handle as the talon crushed his armor against his scales. He groaned at the pain.

Dragon instinct is known to do powerful things, and at that moment, Spike’s instinct was at its strongest. His entire life, he’d never felt more concentrated emotion than right then and there. His enemy was right in front of him. This was the being that threatened not only his hoard, but his friends, and now his very life. He would no longer stand for it.

As Spike gripped the blade, runic symbols flared from his dented and blood-spattered armor, revealing a single word:

Fury

Titanus paused, contemplating the strange runes, and that proved to be his downfall. As Spike gripped the sword, his twin burst into being holding the other sword, completely uninjured. With a roar, the twin flew straight towards the larger dragon.

Caught off guard, Titanus tried to block, but the original Spike drove his own sword through the paw that lay atop him, pinning it to the mountainside.

The twin struck, driving his sword into the black dragon’s heart. The blade flared brightly with purple light as dragon blood flowed upon it, so much energy coursing through it that it looked wrapped in purple fire.

Fury and instinct overtook the elder dragon as he ripped the blade from his chest and flung the two dragons against the mountainside once more. The uninjured twin flickered out when it hit the mountain.

But the sword wound in his chest continued to burn. The purple fire that had wrapped the sword now burned violently within the wound. Titanus was in an agonizing amount of pain as it felt like his chest was being ripped open with claws of fire.

He continued to assault the now single dragon repeatedly with his talons, pounding Spike into the ground. His armor dented from the heavy blows, but did not fail.

After almost a full minute, the black dragon was simply in too much pain from his burning wound to see straight. He reared up on his rear legs, swatting at his wound to try to put the fire out. But it only made him bleed more, which only made the fire burn hotter.

His roars of pain turned into shrieks of agony as the fire spread, fueled by his own blood. Darkness circled him as the purple fire spread through his body. Purple fire erupted from his eyes, and with a final roar that shook the earth, Titanus bellowed:

“CURSE YOU, HATCHLING!!”

Then, he collapsed, his fall making the entire mountain shake. A minute later, he was laying in a burning pool of his own blood. After another minute, he stopped breathing.

Spike stood as painfully fast as his broken body allowed for, and panted hard as he looked at what he’d done, dumbfounded. One of the largest and strongest dragons in the entire world lay dead at his feet, dead by his own hands. The purple fire continued to burn, turning the enormous dragon’s body into the world’s biggest funeral pyre.

Spike thought this was an appropriate way for a dragon of his calibre to go out: fighting another dragon, and being set on fire by an instrument of the gods.

He bowed his head out of respect. Even though this beast had been trying to kill him and his hoard, he was still a fellow dragon. He was incredibly old, and strong enough to be in Gizo’s stories. He may have been evil, but he still deserved respect for his strength.

He slowly tried to climb down the mountain, using his Gemini swords as walking sticks. But it proved too much. After only a couple dozen steps, he collapsed onto one knee, breathing heavily through his crushed armor. He then fell over backwards, the fall taking the air from his battered lungs. He stared at the blue sky, marveling at the color.

Then he heard what he thought he’d never hear again, the voice of a pony.

“Hey, General! GENERAL!”

He heard another pony speak. “What is it, soldier?”

“Look there! It’s Spike . . . And look, he did it! He killed the black dragon!”

Spike found himself staring a white unicorn with an eyepatch, and a brown earth pony mare in the face. The unicorn spoke again, “Well, it looks like we’re all beat to shit, Spike. Care to join us?”

He tried to laugh, but it came out a painful gurgle. “If I could move . . . I’d love to.”

“Well, I think we can help with that.” Vinyl pointed towards a cart, which already had Octavia on it, which they had once used to haul cannonballs. Now, the three carried themselves down the mountain on it. Behind them, Titanus burned.