//------------------------------//
// Act 2/Chapter 4: Smoke and Sacrifice 
// Story: Power of the Dragonflame: The Resurrection of Torch 
// by Mystic Mind 
//------------------------------//

Smoky reacted immediately, grabbing Fume's head between his claws and snapping her neck with one twist. The undead dragon fell to the ground, head hanging limp to one side, and for that moment Moonlight assumed she was dead.

Then, Fume grabbed Smoky’s ankle and rolled sharply right. In one motion, she reversed her position with the dragon insurgent, using his body as a platform to lunge straight for the bat ponies.

On reflex, Spectre jumped back and fanned his wings, whipping out his sai daggers just in time to skim the middle blades across his attacker's right arm. A shallow cut, but it did the job. He'd struck a nerve, and Fume's arm recoiled, giving Moonlight just enough room to dodge left.

With Fume off balance, Moonlight struck, reversing her blade to slash up and through the undead's neck. In one cut, she decapitated fume, her headless body crashing into the dirt.

Sulphur helped Smoky to his feet, but there was no time to celebrate. Already, a group of four undead guards were rushing to their location.

Sulphur and Smoky looked at each other. “Buckball charge?” asked Smoky.

“Buckball charge,” confirmed Sulphur. Turning their shoulders, the living dragons bolted down the tunnel, slamming into the guards and bowling them over with their superior weight – sustaining only minor cuts in the process.

“Since when was buckball so violent?” Spectre scratched the back of his head.

“It's a dragonlands variant,” Sulphur grinned.

“No time for chit chat!” Moonlight snapped, urging her squad members forward as she galloped past the prone guards. “Spectre, did you remember the smoke bombs?”

“You bet I do!” Leaping into a short glide, Spectre pulled a small, ceramic orb from his saddle bag. Lighting the bomb's fuse was easy. Scraping his dagger against the wall gave him all the sparks he needed. Aiming it behind him, however, was another matter.

“Heads up!” Spectre called. With a flick of his wrist, he threw the bomb as soon as he landed, rolling it past his squad mates like a bowling ball. A second later, the chemicals ignited, enveloping them in a thick cloud of grey smoke. A perfect shot.

Battle horns echoed through the tunnels. Dragon voices boomed over the din, “Death to living traitors! Death to pony scum!” At every intersection, a new patrol came charging in, eager to be the first to deliver the ponies' heads to their masters. But none were a match for the one-two punch of muscle and finesse that was the Lunar Guard squad.

Time after time, the living dragons struck hard, slamming headlong into the crazed enemy ranks. With only light armour plating and their thick hides for protection, they easily endured the worst of the undead's attacks. Then, when the time was right, the bat ponies would slip past and slice away at the enemy limbs, slowing them just long enough to make their escape.

Yet an unspoken worry still lingered between the Equestrian loyalists. Each passing pack yielded fewer and fewer kills. As skilled as they were, they had their limits, while the undead would never tire. Eventually, they would have far more than average foot soldiers to contend with.

All too soon did their worries bear fruit.

Putrice. The bloated dragon they ran into not half an hour before, blocked the way out into the slave pits. “Traitors!”

Smoky skidded to a halt and slid under Putrice’s left hook. The punch impacted the wall with a loud crunch, showering Smoky with shards of shattered rock. Grabbing the first of his twin-maces, Smoky sprang forward through the zombie’s guard and slammed it into her left shoulder.

She didn’t even flinch. Instead, she grinned. “My turn.”

Before Smoky knew it, he was airborne, flung across the tunnel by a single punch. A second later, he was on the ground, his head throbbing like never before. He tried to stand back up, but with his vision blurry, he only managed to fall backwards into Sulphur’s arms.

Moonlight was next to jump into combat, slicing at Putrice’s belly with a flurry of attacks. Putrice laughed, thrusting her belly forward. Moonlight ducked, rolled under the dragon's belly and stabbed her blades upwards, cutting straight through the soft flesh.

“Argh!” Putrice snarled and gritted teeth. “You’ll pay for that!”

“Smoky, Sulphur, protect our rear,” Moonlight ordered. “Spectre, help me deal with the hulk!”

“Got it!” the duo replied, withdrawing their maces and bucklers just as the sound of echoing footsteps caught their ears.

Putrice lurched forward and tried to stomp Moonlight's head in, but the bat pony was too fast, leaping back before Putrice got close.

Spectre entered the fight next. Sai daggers drawn, he lunged forward, pierced the undead’s gut and, in the same motion, swiped outwards, tearing open a wide gash that haemorrhaged green puss.

Putrice reeled once again. She stumbled forward and tried to grab onto Spectre’s wings, but as before, he slipped through her grasp. Each time she tried to throw her weight around, the nimble bat ponies withdrew, dancing back and forth to cut away at her girth, little by little.

But it wasn't much. Despite the bleeding, Putrice's fury refused to relent, littering the tunnel with impact craters of shattered rock. Whatever punishment the bat ponies threw at her, they never reached her vital areas.

Desperate to break the stalemate, she cast her gaze back to the traitor dragons. As commanded, they stood a good few paces back, reflecting her own purpose as a living wall against the guards scrambling to get past.

This gave her an idea.

So, she played the pony’s game a little longer, repeating the pattern of attack and retreat. Then, after the sixth repetition, she feinted with a punch, only to stop half-way and spit out a fireball instead.

The bat ponies pulled in their wings and dropped, only to realize the blast was not meant for them. The attack shot over their heads and hit Sulphur square on the back.

“Sulphur, no!” Spectre cried, but he could do nothing. His scales were barely singed, but the attack made him flinch mid-parry, leaving him open to the enemy's blades, slicing deep gashes out of his arm, severing tendons.

Sulphur staggered back, his arm falling limp by his side, blood pouring from his wounds. His head suddenly felt lighter, a wave of dizziness threatening to overcome him.

Noticing this, Smoky did what he could to cover for his friend, forcing the soldiers back with his own flaming plumes. But this wouldn’t last for long. For every step he made in one direction, the undead would push through the opposite gap.

“Could use some back up here, guys!” he grunted, scraping up some loose rocks to throw in the undead's faces.

“Kinda got problems of our own!” Spectre replied, sliding up against the wall, narrowly avoiding Putrice's foot.

Despite his dire injuries, Sulphur didn't stay down for long. A quick puff of fire to cauterize his wound, and he was back in action. Yet no matter how much he gritted his teeth—trying to parry attacks with his good arm—he couldn't hold back the undead's ferocity. With every cut and thrust, they pushed themselves forward, and their numbers were growing.

None of the Lunar Guard knew their exact numbers. They were too focused on the foe directly in front of them. But for every one that fell, two more took their place. Adding to this, Putrice was using breath attacks more frequently, belching fire left and right to further keep the bat ponies at arm's length.

Dragon fire… The concept lingered in Moonlight’s mind. If she was to break the stalemate in her squad's favour, they would have to get creative. “Spectre, hold back a minute!”

“What?” Spectre grinted, dodging another of Putrice's punches. “Don't tell me you're gonna fight this thing alone?!”

“Not for long, I won't!” Moonlight lunged at Putrice, boosted by a quick thrust of her wings, and slashed her swords down across Putrice's gut.

“Is that the best you've got?” Putrice laughed.

“By Celestia's fury!” Moonlight bellowed. To the untrained ear, this was a simple battle cry. But to Spectre, it was the coded phrase he'd been dying to hear.

“Comin' right up!” Retreating a step, Spectre pulled a grenade from his pack. It was a rare occasion he got to use these. For the precision assassins of the Lunar Guard, grenades were uncharacteristically crude, much more suited to open combat where the risk of collateral damage was minimal. But when it came to Celestia's Fury, Spectre was all too happy to demonstrate the creativity of the Lunar Guard.

He didn't bother to light the fuse. He didn't need to. Instead, with all the strength he could muster, he lobbed the grenade at Putrice.

“I don’t think so!” Putrice took another deep breath. She would incinerate the grenade before it had the chance to hit her.

Then, at the last possible moment, Moonlight made her move. There was no room for error. If her timing wasn't perfect, she'd be toast, along with the critical hopes of Equestria's future reliant on the mission's success.

From her low-crouched position, she sprang up, catching the grenade between her hooves. Grunting with exertion, she furiously flapped her wings to push herself up, clearing the fiery belch of Putrice by the narrowest of margins.

Now came the hard part. Barely keeping herself aloft, Moonlight kicked out her legs, shifting the aerodynamic forces to tip her into a forward somersault. Then, with a twist of her body, she righted herself and pulled in her wings, dropping straight down onto the dragon's shoulders.

Suddenly burned by the bat pony, Putrice's eyes went wide. She'd been duped, and there was nothing she could do. No sooner did the last of her breath of fire fizzle out, Moonlight shoved the grenade down her throat. She snapped her jaws shut, intent on shearing off the pony's arm.

Her last mistake.

Moonlight's arm was already free, and as soon as she heard the reflexive gulp of swallowing, she jumped off. “Get down, now!”

“What did you—” A futile remark. Mixed with the noxious gases of her bloated, rotting body, the grenade went off with a deafening boom. In the blink of an eye, her insides exploded, rupturing out through her gut and blowing her brains out.

Once the gunpowder smoke cleared, little remained of the undead guard that was recognisable. Her head had been split in two, and leftover tissue of her gut sprawled open, red with the blood of her few remaining organs.

Confused and disorientated by the sudden, explosive demise of their superior, the footsoldiers reeled, dropping their weapons to haphazardly slash about in the vague direction of their enemies.

But the Lunar Guard were long gone. Celestia's Fury was a success, the only clue to their presence being the chorus of cheers from the emboldened pony slaves. Whatever the dragons did to them now, they knew the tide was beginning to turn. War was coming, and Equestria drew first blood.

Despite the slave's celebration, Moonlight knew this was no time to get cocky, for their escape was far from assured. Reaching their airship was the goal, and it wouldn’t wait forever. Time was of the essence, so they had to be prepared, ready to fight however many undead still stood in their way.

Yet their escape was unobstructed. As they raced around the corner of the final tunnel, not a single guard was to be seen anywhere. Bursting out into the open air, they would be forgiven for thinking they were finally home free.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A deep chill ran down Moonlight’s spine. Their final challenge stood waiting for them. A truly humongous creature, its decrepit skin covered in a thin layer of obsidian scales, with claws big enough to crush a bloat dragon's head.

There could be no doubt. The beast they faced was none other than ex-Dragon Lord Torch himself.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Torch said, his mocking grin flashing long rows of rotten, yet still razor-sharp teeth. “Dragons, helping ponies? This won’t do at all!”

In a flash of movement, Torch snapped his body around and swung his tail at the Lunar Guard.

“Scatter!” On Moonlight's command they scrambled to get airborne, narrowly dodging Torch's tail as it smashed into the volcano barracks behind them.

“Ponies are such troublesome creatures,” Torch sighed and leant on one arm, idly tapping his claw on the ground. “You buzz around like insects, always interfering where you don't belong. And no matter how many times I try and swat you, you just keep coming back for more.”

Then, Torch snapped upright, swiping at the bat ponies as they tried to climb away. Moonlight banked hard to the right and dropped, while Spectre went the opposite way, climbing steeply.

Despite the second near miss in a row, Moonlight refused to let herself panic. Though she knew it was meant as an insult, there was merit to Torch's insect comparison. No creature of Torch's size could hope to move with the grace of Luna’s chosen. But that didn’t mean she could relax, as in the same movement, Torch reversed his attack, singling out Moonlight from her squad.

Thinking fast, Moonlight leant further right to steepen her turn, diving into a corkscrew roll so tight her vision blurred. The attack missed, but Torch did not relent. He just flicked his claw around again, lazily swatting at her like a cat toying with a mouse.

Still, she pressed on. She knew she was staring death in the face. It was only a matter of time before Torch grew bored of this game. She hated to admit it, but this was one fight she didn’t know how to win.

That didn’t stop Sulphur and Smoky rushing to retaliate, spitting their fire at Torch to get his attention. “Over here, ya overgrown lizard!” Smoky jeered between puffs of flaming rings.

Torch looked up at the loyalist dragons with mild indifference. “Oh? The traitors want attention, do they?” he chuckled. “Let me show you how a true dragon spits his fire!”

Torch slowly opened his mouth, drawing I a deep breath of air.

“We break on three,” Sulphur whispered to Smoky. “One… two…”

Flames danced between Torch’s jaws, ready to be unleashed.

“Three!”

The loyalist dragons dived, parting ways just as an enormous plume of fire erupted from Torch’s mouth. In perfect synchronicity, they looped around and over, flying straight toward the Dragon Lord’s face. He tried to turn his attack and shoot down the loyalists, but he was too slow. Smoky and Sulphur flew around the edges of his vision, and the moment they were in range, spat bursts of fire into Torch’s eyes.

The Dragon Lord roared in pain, carving huge chunks of rock from the volcano as he blindly thrashed, shooting wild blasts of fire in every direction.

Weaving around the attacks, the Lunar Guard regrouped above. “Nice shooting, you two!” Spectre exclaimed. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

But Sulphur shook his head, giving the bat ponies a solemn look. “No,” he said, turning to Smoky. “We’re staying behind. Torch won't be blinded for long, and when that ends, some creature needs to distract him. It’s only fitting that those creatures be dragons.”

“Not a chance!” Moonlight snapped, half-tempted to punch Sulphur in the face. “As your commander, I refuse to leave any squad members behind; be they pony or dragon.”

“Moonlight, listen,” Smoky said, glaring back at Moonlight. “If you don’t go soon, we’ll all die. Torch was playing before, but now he’s serious. Unless we keep him here, you’ll be followed, and he’ll destroy the ship. You and I both know that can’t happen.”

Moonlight bit her lip, mulling the words over in her mind. There had to be another way. They’d already escaped one tight situation, who was to say they couldn’t escape another? All she needed was the right plan.

“Damn you, traitors! Damn you all!” The screams of Torch cut short Moonlight’s train of thought. She may not like it, but she knew what needed to be done. Smoky’s logic was undeniable.

Spectre placed a hoof on Moonlight’s shoulder. “We will remember them,” he said, smiling. He then turned back to his dragon comrades and saluted. “Thank you for your service. We will win this war, both for dragon- and ponykind, no matter what it takes.”

Smoky returned the salute, as did Sulphur with his good arm.

“Oh, and sorry about that injury,” Spectre added. “If things were different, we would’ve got you fixed up in no time.”

“Hey, it’s no problem,” Sulphur replied, forcing a weary smile. “Hazards of the job.”

Moonlight’s stomach squirmed. She was half tempted to stay and fight with them, and maybe she would find a way to save them. Alas, she knew in her heart of hearts that she could not. It was a sad fact of war she'd learnt over a decade and a half of service to the Lunar Guard.

So, with tears in her eyes, she gave Smoky and Sulphur one last salute. “I know Spectre already said it, but it bears repeating,” she sniffled. “You’ve been a great asset to the Lunar Guard. We will never forget this honour.”

“Don’t worry, we know,” said Smoky, just as Torch looked up at him. “Now, get going, before that abomination sees you!”

“I heard that!” Torch roared; his eyes red from the pain. He began to flap his wings, creating a powerful draught that threatened to blow the Lunar Guard away.

That was the bat pony's cue to leave. Taking one last look at her dragon partners, Moonlight flew off into the night with Spectre in tow.

Torch attempted to pursue, but the loyalist dragons blocked his path. Smoky raised his mace, and Sulphur raised his shield. “Ready, brother?” Smoky asked.

“Always, brother,” Sulphur replied.

Together, they pulled in their wings and dived toward Torch. “For Equestria!” Screaming their battle cry as one, blasted away at Torch with every last lick of fire they could muster. Together, they seared away at Torch’s facial scales, creating a smoke screen that covered Moonlight and Spectre’s escape.