The cursed swordsman stood at the edge of the clearing, shrouded by leaves and dark foliage. The ghostly spectre had been observing the great beast, watching and waiting, hoping it would reveal a weakness to him. But alas, after he had watched it for what could have been days or weeks, the great thing awoke, and the specter was found. At the first roar the fatalistic dead man rushed the green scaled horror, slashing his ruined blade across its chest. Though the scales were barely scratched his blade cut a very different wound far deeper. It's essence, the beasts soul had been his target and he had given it a sound thrash with his blade. Unfortunately, dragons had strong souls to match their bodies, and the pain led only to anger the beast, but it did serve to drive the beast into the air, surprised by its damaged soul. Now, thought the impossibly old specter, now the chase would begin.

The great green dragon soared into the air, green fire leaking from his maw. But the spectre could keep up... for a time, on foot. Giving his limbs the strength of the curse, and pouring his soul into his legs he kept pace with the flying lizard. It would land soon he thought... why did he think that? He could not remember... but he felt as though he had fought dragons before... when did he do that? It didn't matter though, as it flew he couldn't help but feel he was close to... something... people? He was unsure but as it landed he brought himself to a halt, allowing his body to return to its slow, dead and clumsy nature... Though now that he saw the beast again the spectre was no longer sure he could slay the great beast.