No, you didn't, did you.
Fool.
Fully armoured all over with nasty scales, the dragon's hide is impenetrable (even his eyes have scales on them, somehow), and your sword clatters off of him.
It may comfort you to know that your ashen remains were spread far and high by the wind, and at least some of them happened to land in a peasant's vegetable patch, fertilising it and allowing him to grow an extra turnip that year, so it wasn't all in vain. Your pet lemming, Kersplat, misses you terribly though.
Never mind, not everyone can be clever as well as insufferably brave, t'wouldn't be right in a knight.
Go on, go home, or start again, there's nothing more for you here.