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Over Their Heads Chapter 4 – The Holy One

Updated: Apr 27

Mayael had spent months preparing for this trip. Since the moment her sister had told her that she was going to take her out into the world and on the heroic adventure she’d always wanted, Mayael had done everything she could think of to make herself ready. Lots of that had been practicing her magic, or meditating and finding the calm necessary to sink into the Green and transfigure her form on demand. She had practiced fighting, finding new users for her magic, and brushed up on every natural lore she had ever studied… she had felt perfectly prepared.

She should have been practicing running instead.

Mayael ran in an absolute daze, feeling like she had been smoking strong herbs for hours from the lack of oxygen reaching her brain as her greedy muscles demanded all of it. Her feet moved at the longest, fastest steps they could, and her breath was raw within her panting lungs… and even with her light clothing and lack of equipment, the armored form of Serina was the one waiting for her. The aasimar kept one hand on her shoulder almost like a leash, compelling the druid to keep going at the best speed she could manage.

Behind them, the horde was not in sight… but they could both hear it. Monsters chased them still… and Mayael tried not to think about what that meant for her brave sister that they had made it past her. If she thought about that, she’d be on the ground sobbing. Instead she compelled herself to run faster as their hunting horns chased the two women down the mountain like bloodhounds on the trail of a fox… not only ravenous but also overwhelming in number. Thankfully, Niranya’s sacrifice had counted for something – the bulk of the horde was far enough behind them that they would be able to escape it, if they were allowed to keep on running. Unfortunately, the sound of hunting horns did not only come from behind – they could hear those horns ahead of them as well, and from the sides. The dismal truth was that Archleon’s lair was even more vast than they had understood… the entire mountainside was honeycombed with hidden passages, and that meant that more of the dragon’s minions streamed out from his domain from all sides. They were in the grip of a horde surrounding them on all sides.

“Look! The town!” Serina huffed out. “Torm be praised… it’s not that far!”

Mayael looked and saw what the paladin had seen. From here on the mountain they could look down and had a clear line of sight back to the village, the buildings striking against the natural environment. The city wasn’t all that big in the distance… but after so long hopeless, so frantically running from monsters, the sight of potential sanctuary was as striking as religious epiphany. “Can we make it?” Mayael asked.

“We are going to,” the paladin promised, pushing at her shoulder. “If we move. Go!”

Mayael and Serina sprinted ahead, moving with new purpose… closed the distance like two does sprinting across clearings in the woods. Without slackening their steps they burst from the woods and out into the daylight, and Mayael made the mistake of looking at the cliffs behind her… and the monsters pouring down that stone face like water poured from a barrel, swarming like mindless ants defending their nest. They charged forward with rape and murder on their minds, blowing horns and shouting… a growling, rumbling susurration from behind. “Serina, won’t they just overrun the town?” she gasped out.

“Don’t worry about that. Just keep running!” Serina encouraged as they ran through the clearing and sprinted downhill. “We won’t stop there,” she said as they pushed through rocks and knee-high weeds. “We just need t- DOWN!” The paladin abruptly shoved her and dove down as the shadow fell over them… a shadow of vast wings. Mayael shuddered, feeling a primal fear start screaming in the back of her mind… an old, animal fear of being hunted.

The dragon was here.

Archleon flew past them trailing sparks of fire, his flapping of his wings like explosions as they beat the air… volcanic and loud. The orcs and goblins and ogres that made up his horde were just pebbles beneath him, blowing like sand from his great wings as he circled… clearly looking for them. His bestial roar rumbled across the cloudless skies… a wordless scream of challenge as the dragon swooped over the opening. Mayael looked up in shock at the airborne dragon mastering his domain, her eyes dilated with fearful awe. The Dragon was like nothing of nature’s creatures within the sea or upon the land. The strength, power, and agility of his bewinged body made even the boundless heavens seem limited in scope. His flesh was scaled like an armored warmachine as bright red as blood. His wingspan was like a ship’s sails, and there were no natural animals that could match his fangs or spear-like claws. Merely his tail alone was slithering long like the jungle’s greatest anaconda. Watching his swooping figure momentarily block out the gleaming sun made Mayael realize she was observing something sublime. This was a specimen of Faerûn’s oldest species. How could they ever have hoped to slay a tyrant of evil like that?

Serina hissed. “Torm’s shield! He’s going to just burn down the field and smoke us out,” the planetouched paladin exclaimed, somehow able to read Archleon’s intentions from merely a glance at the way he flew.

Greenskins remained hot on their heels streaming out from the ruined temple. A great wind whipped the hillside as Archleon flew over their heads, his wings bending grasses and weeds down with the force of the wind. “Get behind me!” Serina said, rolling over onto the druid and lifting her shield.

Then the blasting fire came.

The air itself ignited in a great conflagration of heat… an inferno erupting from the apex predator in hues of orange and red as Archleon rained hellfire on the mountainside. That glow was all Mayael was able to see from the ground and beneath the shield, but she could hear the horrible screaming of the wind as air was sucked in to feed the flames… and a second later she heard the death shrieks of incinerated minions caught without concern in the dragon’s blaze. Archleon clearly had no concern for any of his servants foolish enough to get too close… in a single flyby he had set the field aflame and burned their pursuers by the score.

“Up! Come on!” Serina shouted, pulling the elf to her feet as the flames burned around them. “We need to go!”

Mayael looked around in shock. Mere moments ago she had been sprinting down an emerald hillside and now she saw nothing but living fires and blackened ash. Tiny flickering pyres flanked their path like the candles of a graveyard. The stench of embers was thick within her nose… and above she could already see Archleon swooping back around for another strafe. “He’s playing with us!” Mayael fearfully exclaimed.

“Yes,” Serina said grimly. “He is.” She continued running through the open, relying on thick plumes of acrid smoke as their only remaining cover. The woodline was still a respectable distance away… its palisade of oaks and pines was the only thing which could provide haven from the dragon’s prying eyes.

They would never make it.

The dragon swooped down again and another blaze of flame fire spewed from his draconian mouth, burning so closely they could feel its superheated sting against their flesh. This time Serina compelled them to a complete stop before throwing both of them to the ground, putting her shield between them and the flames again. “Woe and scorn!” she cursed in frustration.

Mayael noticed that the horde of pursuers had been completely demoralized by his flames. None remained on the chase and many were burning along the hillside. The rest watched through the great billowing plumes of blackened smoke that streaked upward towards the otherwise unspoiled sky. Archleon had no further annoyances. He was ready to grant them his full attention. “He’s coming around!” Mayael warned.

The paladin set her jaw. “Mayael, you need to run for that wood as quickly as you can,” Serina remarked. “Turn into something fast and just go.

“You won’t be able to keep up!” Mayael exclaimed.

“No, I won’t. Go!” the Paladin urged with a forceful shove. “You have a chance to reach the treeline and escape the dragon. I don’t.” She frowned at the dragon soaring above them like an angel of death. “I promised Niranya I’d keep you safe… I can’t do that if you stay.” Archleon roared again, his enormous wings like the beat of vast drums. The dragon was coming straight towards them like an arrow. “I said go!” Serina repeated with another shove… and her words were more than just a good idea, more than just a plea or an instruction. They were a command, issued with every bit of holy authority the paladin wielded.

Mayael took several steps towards the woods before her mind even realized it. She didn’t have time to think about how running was not the behavior of a hero, and nor was leaving her friends behind… but she had already done both of those things today. The impact of the paladin’s magical orders were only reinforced by the way her command also corresponded to every impulse within her terror-beating heart. There was no more time to think. Mayael obeyed her instincts like a thoughtless animal. As Archleon charged her form blurred, and then a deer was running for the woodline in sheer terror as if being chased by wolves.

Behind her Serina watched her go… and tightened the straps on her shield.

For most of two centuries Serina had sworn to protect the world in Torm’s name. That had been more than a promise… it was an Oath, and she would no more break one of her oaths than she would cut off her sword arm. Serina had always known that she wouldn’t die peacefully in bed… that one day her oath would probably require her to lay down her life in defense of others. She had just always hoped that when the day came she would be making that sacrifice alone.

But she didn’t get to choose.


Serina tightly gripped her longsword and held her shield at the ready, staring at the oncoming Serpent she would need to duel. The paladin had slain dragons before… never one as ferocious as this, true, but the dragon would find no cringing victim waiting for him to claim her. Lesser hearts would have given into terror as the dragon grew larger and larger, approaching her rapidly… Serina however shrugged that fear off as easily as an oiled cloak dismissing a light rain. She raised her silvery blade and flashed it towards the monster in an open display of defiance and challenge. “Alright you little monster,” she whispered. Behind her, Mayael disappeared into the woodland, so at least she would be able to escape… she had done as she promised. She hoped the elf would find it in her heart to continue helping people after what she had been through today. Serina tightened her grip on her blade. “This is for Niranya. Torm, guide my hand!”

Archleon roared and blared as he crashed into the ground like a comet, dirt and stone spraying beneath his cratering claws with equal ease. His great jaws spread wide, and dragonfire spewed forth from them with such force that it sounded like a crashing waterfall. The crimson hellkite sprayed superheated death across the earth as if trying to immolate an insect… and no shield of mere metal could have stopped it. Serina’s shield and armor, however, were not merely metal. The words of a prayer painstakingly chiseled into them flared to brilliant life as the fulmination of flame washed over her and a tiny pocket of safety in the inferno opened up around her. The aasimar’s white hair flapped behind her like someone had attached a bridal veil to a flagpole, ripping in the wild wind the flame brought, and all around her the hillside burned and smoldered orange and black like the plains of the Nine Hells.

Yet for all of Archleon’s ferocious firepower, his draconian lungs required oxygen just as much as any other breathing creature. In a few moments time the torrential flamestorm ceased and was replaced by the sound of his heavy breathing… And as the dragon heaved in new air Serina attacked, rising to her feet and charging in a rush, running directly at the monster. The paladin had killed dragons before… their reptilian armor was almost invulnerable on top, but their bellies had to be able to flex more… The armor beneath them was weak. Just beneath a thin layer of scales beat the malefactor’s big, black heart.

“In Torm’s name!” the Paladin screamed as she slid aside, dodging a single swipe from the dragon’s claws before she was beneath him, gouging a wound into its vulnerable underside in a savage, cleaving slash of her sword. Radiant energy infused the blade, and in the time it took between the attack beginning and when it sank into the dragon the blade had begun to glow as bright as the sun. Archleon bellowed in pain, the sound startling and quick, as her steel sank into his vulnerable flesh, cutting through too-thin scales. Wings, tail, and neck jolted as the dragon – too late – tried to flinch himself away from the stinging injury the ant beneath him had inflicted…

Yet even Torm’s fury, channeled through her blade, had not rung true. Serina’s blade had buried itself in the dragon’s prodigious chest, and blood seeped outwards from where the scales had been split.. But it had not driven deeply enough. It had penetrated the scales, and into muscle, and even so something else stopped it. Only now, from this close, did Serina finally sense the sorcery pervading the monster’s flesh… dragons were often skilled sorcerers, but the strength of the mage armor protecting him told Serina that he was far stronger than most. “Curses!” Serina hissed out. Apparently, this evil would not be so easily vanquished.

Archleon rumbled and rose upwards on his hindlegs. Serina could see the mighty flexing of his throat. The shadow of death was upon her… She needed to leave, now. Yanking on her blade like a woodsman pulling his axehead from a log, Serina ripped her sword free and dashed out from beneath the dragon as Archleon’s mighty maw opened and bellowed, with the paladin as his target. The combustive powers of his lungs, however, had not yet fully replenished. Instead of flame, noxious gas was expelled instead… thick and foul enough to wither flowers. Serina caught a mouthful before she covered her mouth, and coughed violently as she retreated from the poisonous fumes.

Violent coughing overtook her throat, and it was Archleon’s chance to go on the offense. Not waiting for his fiery breath to be restored, he charged after her with shocking grace for something so large, pouncing on all fours like a feline diving upon an unexpecting mouse. Serina raised her shield in defensive posture, despite the fact that no mere muscle and steel was going to protect her from the dragon’s monstrous strength. Claws, wings, teeth, and even the predator’s tail were directed her way like a dervish of blows. She blocked and dodged as much as she could, her shield glowing like the sun off a mirror… but she could only do so much. He was looking to overwhelm the paladin with sheer quantity of offense alone, and the stratagem was working… She had to dodge, evade, and block at nearly superhuman speeds just to stay alive. Her footing wasn’t steady either – the burned ash piling on stone had become slick and threatened to betray her every move. The effort was greater than even the sprinting retreat from the cavernous hollows had been, and Serina was on the edge of wilting… It always seemed like the very next attack was the one that was going to end her.

Yet the battle raged on. Serina constantly kept just ahead… holy strength keeping her limbs strong and rested, stopping them from being beaten down as she retreated from Archleon pace by pace. More than once she stepped upon the charred body of some incinerated minion and the moment of imbalance nearly gave Archleon the edge he needed to destroy her. She wasn’t retreating down the mountain… instead she was walking back towards the temple’s ruined walls. That didn’t matter to her… she wasn’t going to be able to flee from the dragon. She needed to kill it, or drive it off… escape wasn’t going to be an option for her.

“By Torm’s wrath!” Serina exclaimed in righteous anger as she riposted a sloppy stroke of his claws, channeling every bit of holy power she could into the blade and cutting through one of his knife-like nails. “I’ll shatter you, tooth and claw!”

Archleon roared in fury and whirled his massive body around. This flung his lengthy tail towards the paladin like a clothesline. She ducked underneath its whipping blow and even managed to deliver a good slash which cut a bleeding, if shallow, cut across the hard scales. Enraged and growling, Archleon’s next attack was an enormous bite that tried to devour Serina’s whole upper body in a single go. She side-stepped, and with yet another swing of her sword she managed to cut a wound across the wyrm’s neck. Archleon’s growl vibrated the ground.

“You’ve hurt my friends!” Serina growled back as she clutched her sword in a double-handed grip, ready to drive that sword tip into his skull like a lance. “Just die!”

The way Archleon growled and failed to react made her believe she had the dragon paralyzed with pain. What Serina didn’t see, hidden behind his vast bulk, was that his wing was coming across. The massive appendage came into view an instant before it hit her, swatting Serina like a fly, and the white-haired beauty was sent flying… helplessly wheeling through the air until she crashed against a stone ridge. “Guuuuh!” she choked out, slumping down the facade.

The dragon attacked swiftly as a serpent. He burst towards her, a streak of scarlet strafing across the black-scorched earth. With one of his massive forelimbs he pinned Serina against the wall of stone and the ground, all but trampling her with his claw. “C-Curse you!” she defiantly wheezed, her head peeking out between two of his black-nailed toes. Her body was so compressed she could scarcely breathe. The paladin started stabbing his forelimb with her weapon arm but she had no leverage… it was like pricking Archleon with a toothpick. The dragon didn’t even seem to notice. Growling, the monstrous serpent brought his snout closer until their faces nearly touched. Serina could feel the fetid heat of his breath and the palpitations of his leathery nostrils and lips as the dragon’s amber-glowing eyes narrowed in on her with malevolent focus.

“Intriguing…” Archleon spoke with a voice that was both sibilant and baritone deep.

Serina shivered despite herself, a bit of fear sweeping through her before she forced it down… the sheer evil and hunger in that voice nearly froze the paladin’s heroic blood. “D-Devil!” she cried in response.

“An aasimar. Celestial blood. Never did I suspect a woman of such holy ancestry and beauty would deliver herself to my lair like this,” the dragon said, and while his rumbling voice couldn’t help but be a growl he didn’t sound like he was angry or trying to be threatening… he sounded amused. “Precisely what I needed. Something exotic to keep me entertained.”

Despite their difference in species Serina could feel the sexual lusts radiate out from him. This was no young dragon, no adolescent colt musky and aroused… he was an ancient and hungry predator filled with a mind for conquest and rapine greater than any reaver who had ever harassed the land. He wanted to breed her. Claim the womanhood he had won through war. Take her as his bitch, and damn her oaths… and the sudden feeling of being helpless and pinned before that cruel wrath filled Serina with much more dread than she had ever experienced for her long life. She struggled to move underneath his gigantic foot yet couldn’t even nudge him one bit.

“A paladin afraid,” he chuckled, palpitating nostrils breathing deep the smell of her terror. “Does lord Torm know of this weakness? No matter. You won’t be serving him any longer.”

While her torso was being oppressed Serina’s legs were still jutting forth from underneath his sole. These kicked against the ashen Earth trying to get free. Archleon’s amber-glowing eyes lowered towards them and his scaled lips broadened into a grin. “You gave me a few scratches,” Archleon remarked and brought his other forearm over towards her metal chausses at the crotch. With one razor nail, stronger and sharper than any sword, he cut down through the armor with less difficulty than Serina would have cutting open a can. Despite the unstoppable power in just his clawed finger he was surprisingly delicate… only the very tip scratched across her thigh as he effortlessly denuded her from going down her right leg to the knee, leaving behind only tattered metal. His nail had cut away her arming clothing just as effortlessly, and Serina’s eyes went wide as she felt the air brushing against her perilously exposed sex. “Now let me give you a few in return,” the dragon ominously concluded.

The middle nail of Archleon’s claw protruded towards Serina’s crotch like a sword. Its obsidian blackness contrasted with the sacred pinkness of her quim. Serina attempted to clutch her legs but he was already between them. “You… you can’t… do this! My purity is-” she choked out.

“Oh?” Archleon croaked, peering closer as his pinned victim. “Can’t I? I can feel your virginity, aasimar… the magical potential right there for me to claim, to breed.”

“Torm slay you,” Serina seethed.

The dragon only chuckled at her rage. “But of course that is the problem, isn’t it? Your order swears its chastity, does it not? What sort of holy vow-swearing paladin wouldn’t want to protect her virtue?” he thought aloud. Then his vast eyes narrowed threateningly. “Good. That will make this wound all the more pleasurable.”

The Dragon brought his razor-sharp nail slowly upwards towards her virginity, like an assassin sneaking his blade towards his helpless victim’s throat. Serina clutched her teeth as if about to resist a great deal of pain. The tensity of the moment was greater than any flicking pyre burning across the side of that hill. “Time to defile something holy,” Archleon declared… and stabbed with his claw.

Serina exclaimed like a wounded animal and bucked his grip. “Primordial fires!” Archleon’s cursed as his amber-glowing eyes widened. Before his finger, a heavenly, radiant glow emanated from Serina’s crotch. Both of their eyes were drawn towards its source… A ghostly, translucent spiritual seal had appeared right over that quim, gleaming, glittering, scintillating in its light. Archleon’s black nail was blocked, prevented entry by the seemingly feeble supernatural barrier it pressed against, a mark of divine power that protected her virtue as no actual maidenhood ever could.

They remained in place like statues, Archleon’s black digit pressing against her supernatural hymen, yet not quite penetrating past its glow. Her brilliant seal had configured itself around its sharpened tip like a sheet distended inwards, and while it flexed when he pressed it did not yield. Archleon growled, clearly perceiving this miraculous protection as a defiance against his sovereign might. Serina could watch as his anger built, a fire growing in his belly until it glowed out from thinner points in his scales… a fire burning with the intensity to incinerate the entire world. Serina screamed as he applied weight both on his downholding limb and skewering nail. Her ribcage creaked in her chest, and she could barely breathe with the pressure on her lungs, but all of that was merely collateral damage inflicted unwittingly in pursuit of his true effort. The dragon stabbed forward with his clawed digit, the pressure against her pristine pussy mounting with every second as her sword, already useless, dropped from her limp fingers to the ash below. The strength being applied here was unthinkable to mortal flesh… if the seal gave way his sword-tipped finger might well stab his way all the way through her and out somewhere in her belly. Archleon wanted to pierce that sacred seal even if it meant eviscerating her completely.

Yet the seal held.

“Looks like your planar heritage is closer than I’d imagined,” Archleon hissed right in front of Serina’s grimacing visage, his anger like a physical weight pressing down on her. “And your will to keep your vows is impressive.” As he kept pushing against that shielded cunt another glow emerged above Serina’s skull. This glow was circular. A halo. Golden-white in character. The same kind of luminescence guarding her womanhood. “Celestial bitch,” Archleon snarled in a curse.

“G-G-GUUUUUHH!” Serina choked out as the last of her air was squeezed out of her compressed lungs, her chest under such pressure she couldn’t possibly draw in breath. Archleon’s black claw buried slowly inwards by a quarter of an inch… then another quarter… yet a third proved too difficult even for the mighty dragon. He could barely press that half inch inside of her, the glowing seal curved inwards hugging the outline of his onyx claw. The divine oath that protected her, fueled by her faith and willpower, would not let that holy seal be punctured. Archleon’s elongated claw started shaking from the incommensurable strain like a blade about to shatter. Archleon growled with frustration and pain, slimy spittle drooling out past his sword-like teeth and onto the captive paladin.

Serina’s mouth was gaping open in a silent scream. Her tongue was almost forced out of her mouth from the sheer pressure, and the same could be said for her eyes. The golden-white glow of her halo started to flicker and dim, like a soul being smothered in darkness and extinguished… and it seemed like her life would be snuffed out like a candle before her spiritual hymen was gouged. “Torm that…. cur!” Archleon yelled and threw his head towards the skies roaring and billowing fires with absolute rage. He sprayed the flames against the hillside and the corpses and the stones that surrounded her, capturing them in a vast crimson hellscape as the fires on the mountainside were reignited from the stones themselves burning.

Serina was, by now, so close to unconsciousness that she could perceive almost nothing but the heat of his breath. Right as she was about to black out Archleon finally relaxed his grip on her, letting her gasp for air. “So then,” he queried with smarmy amusement, his rage fled with the flames. “You reject having your maidenhood taken by a dragon? You are unwilling to serve one of Faerûn’s greatest creatures? Unwilling to give me what I want from you?”

Serina coughed. “Yes,” she forced out. “I’ll never let you have me. I’ll never be an addition to your horde!”

She expected rage from him. Fury, perhaps. Maybe instant and lethal violence. Instead, he curled one lip in a reptilian smirk. “Well then. Maybe I should conjure you some companions more suitable to your tastes?”

Serina barely had time to process the words before the dragon raised his other hand, keeping her pinned down with one claw as the second began to make arcane gestures. She could feel the rising of power all around her while he mustered his energy. The Paladin remained recumbent in his enormous footprint as the spell grew in power, and the evil of it pressed against the paladin’s senses as it spread out across the hillside. “Do you have any idea,” he said with a glint in his eyes, “just how many people have climbed this mountain to come and slay me? How many would-be dragon slayers I have burned alive? Brave men?” He snorted out a momentary laugh. “Your kind of people.”

Serina cringed as the necromantic energy washed over her. “What you need to understand, paladin,” he growled, “is that your desires, and their desires, do not matter. All life exists to serve me, as my slaves.” The dragon sneered at her. “Including after that life ends.”

All across that hillside figures started rising out of the ashes and soot… humanoid figures, charred-through corpses that stirred and moved and began to rise. They climbed up on unsteady legs with rils of blackened ash falling from their figures. Unholy magic had animated their mutilated cadavers, necromancy of the vilest sort. Without exception they were so thoroughly scorched they looked like mummies coated in tenebrous darkness, having been burned to ashes and reconstituted by his magic… and one shaking step at a time they lumbered towards their master, convening around the two of them.

The dragon released her, letting the exhausted, pained paladin fall to the ground. ”So, aasimar… you fancy their number instead?” he malevolently hissed.

Serina’s eyes dashed from the left and to the right, witnessing the host assembling all around them. Silhouetted against the glowing fires and billowing smoke clouds they appeared even more ominous and ungodly than a normal army of the dead. “W-What devilry are you proliferating?” she wheezed. “Whatever you’re planning, wyrm, it will not—Agh!” Before the Paladin could finish her sentence one of the ash-mummies had seized her by the glowing halo around her head. Instead of pulling it away however, it seemed indelibly attached to her… instead, the undead would-be dragon slayer used this handhold to yank her around, compelling Serina forward and then dragged her up onto one knee. That the sign of her holiness was being used for such profane, earthly ends stung, but there was little she could do about it… Despite being lifeless and made of a mix of ash and mud the figure still had enough strength that it felt like he would be capable of ripping her skull right off her neck.

“You could have had one of Faerun’s most ancient species as your mate, paladin,” Archleon sneered. “But now you’ll have its filthiest.”

In unison, compelled by the dragon’s magic, the undead ash shifted… and black-burned penises swelled and went rigid from their unholy forms. The suddenly appearing manhoods jutted forth to point skywards like a thicket of flags. A momentary flash of fear and dread seized Serina at witnessing so many erect rods pointed right at her… Despite their extremely overcooked nature they still threatened and horrified her. She had sworn to never know a carnal embrace – now that vow was being threatened.

“Your despicable plans are futile,” Serina wheezed, struggling against the ash-zombie’s grip… powerless and unable to defend herself. “The seal protects me from the undead just as much as the liv-”

The dragon clicked his tongue. “Foolish little celestial,” Archleon grunted while hovering his draconian snout above the scene. “You see so little. I’m sure that you’re right… but I doubt that your other holes are equally well protected.”

“I-What!? Giiieeehh!” Serina squealed as the abomination once more violently tugged at her halo, bending her forward onto hands and knees. Hands raked over her, finding the ties and clamps that held her white lacquered platemail in place and beginning the process of tearing it off of her plate by plate. Even that concerned her far less than the parts of her body that were already exposed, however… the parts that she could feel the ashen bodies of the fallen dragonslayers pressing against. Serina had pledged to never lie with anyone, and while she had occasionally had cause to regret or doubt the wisdom of that vow the possibility of anal sex had never been one of those thoughts or concerns of hers… Yet as the burned knights pressed against her she quickly understood their debauched purpose. Archleon couldn’t violate her feminine chalice, so instead he was going to have her rear hole plowed, ransacked in the most undignified of ways… and these incinerated warrior corpses would be the instruments of his wrath.

“So… Let’s see how long that divine body of yours can remain holy,” Archleon snarled as charred fists clutched her generous hips for leverage.

“Torm protect me,” she grunted out through gritted teeth as the first of the undead abominations guided his swollen shaft towards the aasimar’s asshole. He wedged it in between her firm buttocks as flakes and powdery ash dislodged from its knob, but no matter how hard he pushed against her, no matter how roughly he screwed his way forward towards her anus, the impossible black phallus maintained its supernatural solidity. “Get… get off me!” she choked out again as the knob bumped against her small anal opening and coerced it to distend. Serina nearly squealed as she felt unholy masculine pressure against her vulnerable body and the impossible residual heat deep inside of the flames that had killed them. “Get off me! Get-”

Her words cut off with a scream as the pressure redoubled. “Torm protect meeeeiiiaaaahhh!” she chanted and shrieked as her sphincter clutched hard trying to repel the invader. Her anus gripped its bulbous end, chafing away ash and dirt and the occasional gravel. Being a valiant paladin sworn to live a life of chastity she had never before known the dismay of standing helpless against a masculine cock… and for all the paladin’s tough warrior nature it was not the kind of contest she was primed to win.

“Torm protects not your ass, stupid slut,” Archleon blasphemed as his reanimated underling’s penis started to bend and buck from the inwards pressure.

“Nooooo!” Serina exclaimed trying to get away, her rear channel burning at the touch.

“Torm will not save you, holy one,” the dragon sneered. “All he knows about you now is that you’re a champion who went from dueling dragons to dueling an undead dick.”

Without grunts or snarls or exclaims of exertion, the undead abomination gave another shove and the head of his cock finally overwhelmed the belligerent woman’s butt. Despite herself Serina let out a scream as the frankly enormous cock rammed home into her rectum. Heat and ash stroked against its virgin membrane walls, but despite that it didn’t stop. A moral man would have hurt trying to keep pressing through that tightness… the undead shaft inside of her didn’t have to pause for even a second. Now that he had gotten started the remaining resistance didn’t do anything but slightly slow him, and his invasion didn’t conclude until the undead dragon-slayer’s pelvis slammed against her buttocks with raw force. The sacred Aasimar had become corked like a common wench… Right on the battlefield that she had lost, surrounded by sepulchral abominations as black as the Grim Reaper.

She screamed.

“What’s the matter?” Archleon mocked. “Cannot take a simple battle wound?”

Despite being dead, the ashen zombie began slamming his huge cock into the paladin’s ass with all the strength the dark necromantic power could offer his form. Then it produced a ram-rodding attack that thoroughly plowed the planetouched woman’s posterior, and Serina took stroke after stroke after stroke. It didn’t matter in the slightest to this foul rape whether or not her violators still numbered among the living – his violence and thickness invaded her previously untouched asshole and stretched it to the limit. “Nnnnooouuugghh! Torm… forgive me!” Serina exclaimed.

Archleon watched from above, enjoying watching his would-be assassin and interloper suffer. His tongue raked over his teeth as he watched the pain swell up in the aasimar’s eyes. Big gobs of slime from his tongue drooled down onto her person. The dragon was mastering the scene like a puppeteer pulling on unseen strings, every move from the animated zombies being unleashed at Archleon’s necromantic direction. “Maybe Torm will forgive you,” he spoke, sounding mockingly sanguine even as that corpse power-drilled into Serina’s rectum. “One mere, technical trespass against your vows. With an undead abomination. Against your own volition. Yes, maybe he will forgive you…“

“Eeeeaaaahh!” she screamed.

“But the real question is… will he forgive you for being anally violated by every single abomination here? His valiant champion degraded into a whore for the army of the dead?” he concluded with blasphemous draconian mirth. “Somehow, I do not think he will.”

“NO!” Serina shrieked. The monster was pummeling her with violent, punishing plunges, and the sheer cruelty of this offensive had multiple dramatic effects on her body. The seal shielding her pussy started glowing underneath her rear each time his scorched ballsack slapped against her vulva. Her rectum was also not only chided but also burned by the temperature remaining imbued within his pole. To the paladin it felt like she was being sanded from the inside, like a heated cock made from gluing glass dust to the side of a dildo. Her insides simmered until it felt like her wounded membrane would erupt into flames. Ash was also slowly being scrubbed off that raiding cock — its residual powder trailing further into her bowels, clogging it with blackened dust.

To her great depression Serina realized that this would continue not until any ejaculation came… the dead wouldn’t climax. Instead, it would not end until the Dragon grew bored of her disgrace. Already the defeated paladin felt filled with pain more sexualized and intense than her sacred mind was capable of imagining, her loud and anguished cries echoing across the smoldering battlefield just like the pops and creaks of living fires… and he wasn’t nearly done with her yet.

So of course, that was when Archleon made it worse. “Oh, what am I thinking? You still have another hole,” the dragon commented, and immediately another black-bodied abomination stepped forth from the crowd. This one seized Serina’s halo in a double-handed grip, steadying her skull.. And confronting it with the abomination’s empowered penis. This prong pointed straight towards her trembling mouth, and with little hesitation he began pushing forward. Serina clenched her mouth shut, her jaw clicked together…

And her attempt to close this hole went even more feebly than her ass’s had.

“Nnnnnnooouuuuhhh—ggguuuh!” she groaned as the penis penetrated her lips, and an unbelievably foul taste filled her mouth… mud and burned meat and smoke and grime and the horrible scent of death. This one was even hotter than the one invading her ass. The meat of this cock was constructed as much from cinders and embers as it was coagulated ash. Serina gagged, but she was even more troubled by the prospect of being immolated on the spot then she was choking on that cock as it plunged into her gullet. That taste grew even worse as he pushed further inside of her, slamming against her throat and forcing its way inside of her and eventually even her throat. Needless to say, his dick tasted like she was suffocating on a forest fire. Ash trailed down her throat, mixing with its gastric slime and spit and making her absolutely hoarse. When she pushed against his pelvis trying to buck him off her fists sunk into the outermost layer of ash, and she tried to bite down only to get the same foul result and not stop her rapist for even a second… As long as the abomination could grip her halo she was caught on the spot.

“Ah, perfect… now your true disgrace can commence,” Archleon spoke.

The double-penetration followed at a great tempo. Over and over, Serina was hammered into from both ends by monstrous undead men like an inanimate toy. One massive thick cock powered into her helpless ass, the other into her undersized throat. It felt odd that the only sounds from this brutal sex were all coming from her – the abominations were as silent as the grave, while her grunts and screams made up the main chorus of her rape, accentuated by the steady smacking sounds of their hips. Were there any bystanders around to witness the crime they would have thought themselves seeing a white-haired angel being violated by hordes of blackened fiends from the deepest reaches of the Abyss. Whatever screams and sobs could be expelled from Serina aroused the dragon to even greater heights of barbarity. He imbued his minions’ thrusts with bone-jarring impacts. Those not participating in the rape were still tearing off the aasimar’s remaining armor until she was all almost entirely nude… the planetouched woman’s supple breasts dangled and jiggled, brought to harsh motion by the brutal sodomy of the dead dragonslayers.

“Scream for me, celestial,” Archleon half-shouted, half-laughed. “Sing to the whole world the whore you are!” He glared down at her. “Scream like those who came before you… like that elf who so futilely sacrificed herself so you might escape.”

Niranya? Tears ran down Serina’s face as she heard about the fate of the person she cared about the most… her constant companion for decades. She knew that she had sacrificed herself, she knew that the horde had made it past her, but still she hoped that there was a chance she had escaped, that she had made it free. Now horror and woe overtook her, exceeding even her own suffering in disgrace.

“Oh, look at how her halo pulses,” Archleon mocked. “The she-elf fell just as you did, dragon slayer… she wasn’t a virgin, so she was useless to me. I left her to my children. Her screaming kept me well entertained as I chased you down the mountain.”

The black shapes kept humping and thrusting and plunging. In life they had been heroes, all desperate to slay the dragon. Now, in death, the only thing they were desperate with was frenzied lust for raping the woman had tried to accomplish the same. It was like the last smoldering scintillas of their anger at failing was now being turned against her, used to power their violation… every other thing that they were had been scorched away by the dragon’s breath until they were just soulless dolls for Archleon’s beck and call.

“Crushing, isn’t it?” Archleon spoke, almost whispered. “To see your heroism amount to naught?”

“Hmmmnuuuuh!” Serina wailed.

“Do you want to know the truly sad part, young paladin?” the dragon said to the four centuries old aasimar. “You think you have accomplished something here in denying yourself to me. You think your purity saves you from me. But know this, paladin… I only wanted one of you for my horde. I would have let that young one I saw running away go…” The red-scaled monster chuckled dangerously. “But you have denied yourself to me. Made yourself useless to me. Now, I need to go get her. Now her fate will be as dismal as the rest of yours,” Archleon continued, twisting the dagger in her gut.

“Maaayyuuuugghhh!” the Paladin screamed in response.

“Oh, do you want to save her now?” the dragon teased, his voice sounding almost compassionate… understanding. “Very well. Then just break your oath, and let me into that scummy little cunt of yours.” He reached down and pressed his finger against her pussy and pushed once again, and once again her body didn’t permit it. “Oh, that’s a shame. Well, I’m sure the young druid will understand.”

Serina howled. Despite herself, the paladin tried her hardest to take down the shields protecting her. She had promised to her best friend that she would protect Mayael, that she would get her to safety… if she needed to forswear herself to do that, she would do it. No matter how she concentrated, however, the holy light that protected her pussy didn’t lessen, and the dragon’s claw didn’t enter. She couldn’t even do this right.

Seemingly without cause or reason, the burnt Abomination who had been ransacking her butthole unplugged that orifice and allowed another to take his place. He had started with an untouched anus. What he left behind was a yawning ash-pit. Unable to fill her with scummy sperm, the undead had left behind the remnants of his flesh instead. Seconds later, the next abomination plugged her rear hole and began violating it as energetically as did the first. No arduous penetration process was required again now that her sphincter had now lost all integrity, and she could still feel the residual heat of Archleon’s fire within him as it pulsed against the tormented walls of her rectum. The pain was so intense even the toughened warrior wanted to cry and sob… Serina was struggling to endure the incredible pain of having her ass brutalized and her throat bludgeoned.

“Aauuuhh! Eaaahhh! Uhhhuuu! Niieeeehhh!” she groaned in pain while also nearly being choked underneath the billowing smoke clouds which overhang the scene and blotted out the sun. Their presence made it seem like she was caught in a hell of endless night, and Serina thought her butt was going to burst… that it would be eviscerated until it more resembled bloody pulp than a rectum. Nothing forged from the crude matter of the planes was supposed to be able to withstand this kind of sexual damage. Her one upside was that the longer this went on the more time Mayael had to put distance between herself and this temple. In spite of what Archleon had said, the elf was still a druid, and as such knew the woodland with an almost animalistic intuition. Normally, this would have been a knowledge that heartened Serina’s mettle. Yet suffering as she did seeing that as a brightside was as difficult as seeing the sun underneath these clouds of ash.

Though Archleon was drunk with violence, the great wyrm craved ever more. The dragon’s nostrils fumed out noxious vapors with every heaving breath while watching the rapine. He made sure the ashen marionettes continued to pound away with incredible ferocity and tremendous strength. Watching the planeswoman be this brutally sodomized was his private show of watching something beautiful be destroyed for his pleasure, and Archleon was in no hurry to see it end. “Beg for death,” he spoke, voice a rumbling purr. “Beg me to let you end, and maybe, just maybe, I will grant you your wish, paladin. Unlike Torm, I can be a benevolent deity when I wish.”

“Nwwwooooohhhh!!” Serina screamed with her face twisted into a mask of agony. A black-burned cock plunged into her opened gullet keeping that orifice ever-plugged. Her asshole was violated with equal merciless abandon. Streaks of ash now lined the membrane of both her fuckholes… painting her insides nearly as blackened as their bodies were tenebrous. The prong violating her airhole was replaced by another, and Serina could see how much it had shrunk… how much of the ash-formed cock had been left inside of her, and her stomach heaved. In the brief interim when he was outside of her, she coughed, and thought she might be about to vomit up a whole bucket of ash. The experience was so agonizing her eyes turned rheumy with tears. She was disgusted to have charred undead flesh infesting her insides like this… It made her wish she could black out and leave this merciless torment behind.

“TORM NO MOREEUUUUGHHH!” she screamed upon becoming deepthroated again.

“Gods cannot save mortals from Dragons,” Archleon commented while his minions roughly and rapidly power-thrust into her rear. “That is the power of our nature.”

By now, the glowing halo and resplendent pussy-seal were the only things looking holy about Serina. The rest of her was as infested and despoiled as the incinerated landscape. Each time these zombies touched her, they left black smears of ash and soot and mud all over her. Her hair, lips, thighs, rear… all of it was trained and trashed as the gorgeous aasimar was reduced to the white-haired centerpiece of a no-pussy gangbang. The intensity of her rape was fiercer than any of the crackling fires still littering the hillside, and unlike those floundering fires there was no sign of it burning out any anytime soon.

Having deposited a whole cock’s worth of ash and soot in her ass, the dark figure behind her stepped aside and another abomination quickly stepped up at Archleon’s command, and the process began again. He too fucked her until she was thoroughly walloped and defiled, and there was more of his supernatural shaft inside of her than left a part of him… and then another undead took his turn. And then another. And then another. And then another. Serina was repeatedly gangraped by the cinders of former champions, roughly sodomized by all powers Archleon could extract from their charred sinews and bones. It was pure agony all the way through, and while they were the necromantic abominations it was the dragon’s heart which beat without any mercy or gentleness at all.

“Beg me. Beg for death,” he kept malevolently sneering. “Of course, I’ll probably resurrect you. Just like I did these pathetic dragon slayers. Toss you to them, just to keep your disgrace going a little while longer and destroy what remains of the holiness you used to be. You think that would be a death for Torm to exalt? At least you wouldn’t be alive to feel the pain anymore.”

Serina did not heed his call for suicide, but not not because of any conviction as a paladin. If she were able to speak, Serina wasn’t sure what she might have said. Instead, her punished throat was simply so hoarse and ash-clogged that her vocal cords couldn’t form words. The only noises that could escape that gullet were the inarticulate bellows of pain that haphazardly emerged as she was sodomized by every inch of the undead monster’s massive dicks. Choked by ash, it already felt like she was in the embrace of death already.

Having been raped long and hard, her asshole finally reached a kind of ignominious breaking point. When the next abomination unsocketed his pelvic ash started spewing from its yawning pit with the force of an overloaded enema. The powder practically boiled forth like slime from a mudpot, unloaded in great undignified spurts of muddy, bloody dirt and soot. Even after all she had endured, being made to so humiliatingly defecate in such a way was immensely humiliating for the valiant paladin, and agony and shame glowed upon her visage even brighter than that halo above her head did. “Nwwwooooh!” she lamented in practically a ghostlike, hoarse whisper.

As her shame reached a culmination Archleon’s dreadful skull hovered above the scene. His amber-glowing eyes peered down at the ash-enema with sadistic amusement, and the dragon stayed his next rapist for a while, letting her humiliation play out as he considered, a grim smile on his reptilian face… new, evil ideas occurring to his tyrannical mind. “To think you had to suffer like this only because of your celestially protected womanhood,” he narrated, trying once again to skewer her pussy with one claw. Once again, nothing happened – the glow of her protection shielded her from the violation, and Serina wasn’t even sure any longer if she wanted it to get into her or not. “Do you still feel holy, aasimar? Still thankful for the blessing in your blood?”

In the very next second, Archleon used his sword-nailed claw to clog Serina’s defecating ass. Despite her fatigue the planetouched paladin immediately jerked at this touch. His onyx-black nail wasn’t quite as large as some of the abomination’s cocks, but the nail was sharp and painful and utterly unyielding, and her undersized anus duly noticed. “Hwwwwooooohhh!!” she exclaimed, bellowing past the ash to produce a truly herculean cry. “TOOORRRMMM NOOOO!!!”

“Torm? When I’m through with your suffering you’ll never mention that blasted deity again,” Archleon narrated as he forced that massive digit in between her bifurcated asscheeks. “You will know only me as your God. More subservient than any of the minions that serve me, even as they burn to ash.”

“EEEEIIIIAAAAHHHH!!!” Serina continued screaming as her anus was stretched unimaginably wide by that intruding shaft. Needless to say the outflow had completely ceased and instead the discard remnants of burned undead flesh were being pushed deeper into her rectum to make room for that claw. To the aasimar it felt like her asshole was inexorably expanding right to the point where it would inevitably rip apart, and the throbbing pain only got worse and worse with every passing second. Her audience of fire-blackened undead violators didn’t react as her pain blossomed across her face, twisting into horrible shapes as it felt the unimaginable, extreme anguish.

“One day that sacred seal will vanish,” Archleon spoke, eyeballing that white-glowing barrier glowing brightly before her cunt. “One day, I will disgrace you so much that there is no will left in that once-pretty head of yours. One day, you will no longer believe yourself special in the slightest, seeing yourself as just some other whore. And on that day, if there is still anything of you worth fucking, I’ll do the same thing to the worthless cunt you tried so hard to protect.”

“EEEEEAAAAHHHHH!!!” she replied in mind-unhinging pain.

Instead of relenting, Archleon simply pushed further, making that outstretched anus hug his blackened nail as tightly as a vice. This forced an enormous amount of stone hard keratin into her already overpacked ass. His leathery lips parted to their widest extent yet as the Paladin appeared to go insane from the penetrative pain. This foolish mortal who had dueled him with such temerity was now nothing but a whore with his thick finger up her ass.

“Despite everything, paladin, I’m glad you and your party arrived when you did,” Archleon added as he wedged practically the whole of his central claw into her, making the scaled appendage disappear into the planetouched woman’s tight-clenched rear. “Things were getting dull. Both for me and my purebred children. We were in need of some newfound entertainment. Not to mention… wombs.”

The dragon turned his head towards the distant town. “But alas. Since your own womb is useless to me, I best be going to claim one that is not.” His fiery glare flicked back to the aasimar as she struggled to breathe through a throat clogged with ash. “Unless you have changed your mind. “Renounce your vows, paladin… convince me you want me to breed you instead, and perhaps you will convince me to make a sport of it. Make you a special project to see how thoroughly I can desecrate you until your oaths will no longer protect you. Convince me that will be fun, and I have no need to claim to the elf.”

Serina tried, desperately. She tried to pledge to the dragon that she would sacrifice anything to save Mayael. That she wanted him to find new ways to shame and pollute and destroy her so that he could fill her virgin womb. That she would even willingly find ways for him to further defile her holiness. Instead, she coughed and gagged and choked, every single word she tried to make caught on the ash clogging her throat. For all her effort she was too consumed with the struggle to keep breathing past the foul undead remnants packing her insides.

Archleon waited a few more seconds with a mocking sneer twisting his reptilian maw, waiting to see if the paladin would get enough control of herself. “It appears not,” he said. “Don’t worry. I know your oaths are important to you. I’m sure both of your elven companions will understand why you refuse to forsake them. I’ll explain it to them for you… in detail.”

Serina was not really conscious anymore, but she could still hear this final blow to her dignity… could still feel the dreadful foreboding his words inspired as she slowly choked herself unconscious on the ashen remnants of fallen heroes enslaved. The paladin’s countenance was frozen into a sculptured horrorshow of pain and indignation as awareness slowly was swallowed by the dark. Her body, trained for righteous combat, was just as defeated and inert… too exhausted and week to even keep her eyes open.

Without ceremony or respect, Archleon unplugged his claw. In his wake he left behind a rectum more resembling a cavern than a dignified hole. The dragon undid the magical stranglehold holding the charred corpses upright, allowing them to fade away and vanish down into ash. At about that moment the final fires burning on the mountainside died out as well and the skies cleared, allowing the sun to peek through the smog. Serina was not capable of appreciating its warming touch upon her violated skin. Unconscious, vanquished, and smeared with ash she more resembled the charred cadavers littering the hillside than she did anything living.

The great wyrm started flapping his batlike wings. Great gusts of wind blew across the landscape, dispersing any residual smoke. In the next moment he took flight, leaving Serina behind. His minions would soon enough come around to account for the unconscious paladin’s captivity. Leaving her behind, Archleon flew towards the distant treeline, keeping a steady course.

Towards the town that Mayael had fled towards.


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