Zack wasn't sure how it happened, but he felt the dragon start to tip backward. This was good news, that's really all that mattered. Zack clung to the rank flesh and hung on until it finally hit the ground, the footless front legs flailing uselessly.

Now was the time to end it, like Reno insinuated. Zack crawled the remaining distance toward the dragon's throat and uncorked the potion with his teeth, quickly dousing the creature's exposed weakness. The flesh hissed again, though the dragon's cries of pain drowned it out immediately after. His plan was working.

But Zack wouldn't trust just one potion. It worked quickly, but not fast enough. Backtracking, he ripped his sword from its chest and swung the blade toward the decaying neck, easily slicing the jugular. Thick, black blood spurted out and Zack jumped from the dying creature as its limbs slowly stopped moving.

Gods, he smelled like death. Literally.