Thunder and lightning flashed above Pandora's forest sea.
Dark clouds gathered beneath the canopy of the giant trees, but no rain fell—only the roar of thunder.
To everyone's anticipation, the young leader rode a wyvern back before his people, but he had not brought back the guests they had hoped would return.
Although Sal was also present as a guest, he had already sunk too deeply into the grief of losing his kin to be of any use, practically no different from not being there.
"We must stay and fight the Tyranids."
Supported by the Dragon Knights, Tukalon jumped down from the wyvern and addressed everyone.
Questions, whispers, gasps... they nearly scattered the courage Tukalon had painstakingly gathered.
But knowing that his people's survival or death rested on a single decision, Tukalon felt anger rise within him. Pointing at his people, he roared, "I know that deep down, all of you want to run! You just don't dare say it aloud! You want a leader who isn't even old enough to learn Dragon Control to make this decision for you, so you won't have to condemn yourselves later!"
His words forced everyone into silence.
"I have two options."
Tukalon sat on the Throne and held up two fingers.
"The first."
"Move out every combat manual stored in the World Shrine and study them. Every adult in the tribe will undergo combat training, while gathering resources at designated times."
"Every dragon, no matter whose child's dragon it is, no matter whether it is used for hauling or carrying passengers, will serve as a mount for reserve Dragon Knights. Younger dragons will take over their original duties."
"All younger tribe members will enter the smithies or tailoring workshops to learn trades. While the adults and I go to war, they will