Ladon The Dragon


Ladon the Dragon was another of Hera's beasts. Raised to be vicious and protect the golden apples. It would slay any man who had managed to steal one without her blessing. Here stood Heracles with not one, but three. The dragon circled and dived at Heracles. He dove to the ground and avoided being struck with the dragon's claws.

This was a different Heracles. He had already sent Azeus to take cover. With his golden sword gifted by Athena and armor made from the Nemean Lion Heracles prepared to face off with the dragon. But, this was a new Heracles. No, it was the old Heracles, finding some form of peace after holding the sky. He had a calm hand in battle. He didn't try to punch through the dragon's flames. He guarded himself, taking minimum damage in the process.

The sword ripped across the dragon's belly. Pieces of gold fell to the ground, but the dragon was unharmed. Years of hoarding golden apples had plated the dragon's belly in godly gold. The same gold that made up Heracles sword. Neither could cut the other. No matter. Heracles would not retreat. Nor would he lose. For the first time in years, he was thinking clearly. If there was ever a time when Heracles could defeat a dragon it was now.

For an entire day, Heracles dodged, and blocked. Never hurting the dragon, simply waiting his time. The dragoon dropped down low again. Opening it's mouth wide it blew flames at Heracles, this was the moment Heracles had waited for. Throwing caution to the winds, he lunged forward towards the flames. The flames burned hotter than any other flames Ladon had unleashed on him. Heracles could feel his flesh peeling, and still he did not stop. 

The flames soon simmered to nothing but smoke, as Heracles had lodged his sword into Ladon's throat, ripping it from the inside out and killing the dragon. Heracles was wounded more than he had been before and it would take him some time to heal, even if he was a demi-god. But for the first time, Heracles smiled and it was a true smile. He had understanding, and was purified by the flames. As Azeus rushed to tend to his wounds, he could not understand Heracles' glee with the events that had transpired. 

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