This revelation brought me to an unsettling conclusion: this world may not flaunt its supernatural abilities openly, and it may not be as saturated with rampant power as I had once assumed.
"Interesting," my consciousness murmured silently before gradually succumbing to slumber, forced into dormancy by the unrelenting pressure of this alien plane.
---
Tal, South Sea, Dusk Island — Castle Black.
A colossal black dragon, towering over a hundred meters in length, slowly opened its blood-red, vertical pupils. Reflections of contemplation shimmered in their depths.
Since the moment the reverse scale had crossed the planar barrier, all connection between me and my consciousness and spiritual power stored within the reverse scale had vanished entirely.
However, I knew this severance wasn't because my presence had been detected and eradicated by some powerful existence, but rather due to the natural laws of this plane exerting overwhelming suppression.
According to the inheritance of the Dragons, what we call the "Super Large Plane" is among the most powerful material planes within the entirety of the star realms. These are categorized as high-energy level planes, distinct from the more commonly seen small, medium, and large planes.
There are two primary reasons a plane earns the title of high-energy. First, both super large planes and main material planes are vast enough to allow the true bodies of gods to walk freely within them.
The second reason lies in their ability to give rise to something profound: a higher planar will—akin to the will of the Astral Plane or the will of the Abyss. Of course, in terms of sheer greatness and boundless vastness, the will of this world pales in comparison to the former two is nothing. The will here is more like a nascent entity—an infant, freshly awakened—whereas the Astral and Abyssal wills are fully evolved, supreme entities at the apex of existence in the Star Sky.
Planes governed by such higher wills tend to function according to their own unique and self-contained laws.
Just as the Tal Realm operates by its own divine rule, and just as the Abyss follows a chaotic logic independent from the rest of the star realms, these main material planes—where higher planar wills have awakened—craft their own governing principles.
Within the realm governed by such laws, even the astral and abyssal wills must yield.
Given this understanding, one of the most apparent rules that governs this new world has already become clear to me—the law of extraordinary inertia.
"No... perhaps it's more accurate to say that it specifically targets the inertia of mental power. Other types of supernatural energy may still function freely," I mused, narrowing my massive eyes with cold insight.
Inertia is the tendency of an object to resist being moved or, if the object is moving, to resist a change in direction until an outside force acts on the object according to Newton's first law of motion.
It appears that this law is implemented at an exceptionally intricate level on a vast scale in this plane.
Even so, I knew that to confirm such a hypothesis, I would need to wait patiently. The virtual gold meteorite carrying the reverse scale must complete its descent safely, and only after the embedded consciousness reawakens can we truly begin deciphering the intricate web of rules that define this realm.
Having contemplated all this, I felt my earlier anxiety fade. I closed my enormous dragon eyes and began to brush up on the spell proficiency and martial arts proficiency I had recently learned. At the same time, I reviewed the void-derived strength gained through the Void Familiar's self-sacrifice during the recent feast.
Although the pace of my strength's growth had slowed, it was only slow by my standards. After all, reaching the high-level legendary tier in just over thirty years is an achievement so absurd that it would draw envy or disbelief from any God across the Stary Sky.
Much of my power stems from power of Void. For that reason, the strength I gained from the most recent feast enhancement felt insufficient and underwhelming.
Twelve times a year—once every month—this regular improvement wasn't even close to the massive gains I had received from absorbing tens of thousands of mid- to high-tier Void Familiars in a single spree.
But that, too, was to be expected.
Having now reached the fifth tier of legend, my strength is at the absolute threshold of the high-level legendary realm. Yet my feast level stacks are only just above 400.
Based on my own analysis, if not for the tremendous boost I received from absorbing those Void Familiars, I would need at least a thousand—perhaps even two thousand—more feast layers to achieve my current power level.
---
"I heard a bigshot from the royal capital is visiting our town today!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Archie. Why would someone important ever bother with a remote place like Fengyu Town?"
Two local boys—roughly fifteen or sixteen years old—whispered excitedly by the roadside.
After hearing his companion's skeptical remark, the blue-haired boy, Archie, rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Bart, have you gone brain-dead from grinding wheat all day? You didn't hear the huge crash last night? A meteorite fell just outside of town!"
The brown-haired Bart scratched his head sheepishly and smiled. "It was the middle of the night. I was sleeping."
"Wow, you must sleep like a rock! That kind of noise didn't wake you up?" Archie said in disbelief.
Bart tilted his head and asked curiously, "So, what's the connection between the meteorite and a royal capital bigwig visiting Fengyu Town?"
Archie was about to answer, but before he could, the clatter of hooves interrupted their conversation.
Two powerful chestnut-colored horses pulled a lavish carriage into town. The ornate carriage was followed closely by several other wagons laden with crates and goods. Around a dozen uniformed servants accompanied the convoy, walking briskly without uttering a single word.
As the procession passed the two teens, Archie and Bart fell silent, stepping back to allow the entourage through. Their eyes were wide with awe and curiosity. It was clear this kind of noble carriage had no business in a forgotten corner like Wind Whisper Town.
Inside the plush carriage sat a sixteen-year-old boy with black hair and, opposite him, an eighteen-year-old girl—also with flowing black locks. The atmosphere between the two was heavy with unsaid thoughts.
"Sid... Sid," the girl, Claire, called softly.
Sid, lost in his thoughts, blinked in surprise and muttered a vague response.
Claire gazed at her brother's distracted face and let out a silent sigh, her heart tightening.
Their mother and father had been caught in a terrifying and unexplained incident. In a matter of hours, their family had collapsed, and now only the two of them remained to carry the name of House Kageno.
Alone and adrift, the weight of loss hung heavy in the air between them.
The nobles who were originally hostile to the Cageno family took the opportunity to encroach upon the Cageno family's property. In order to protect themselves and prevent the complete disappearance of the Cageno family, Claire gritted her teeth and led part of the family's remaining wealth, willingly choosing to follow her younger brother into exile. Alongside two loyal guards and a few maids, they journeyed to the remote town of Fengyu.
In Fengyu Town, there stood a modest manor owned by the Cageno family. The estate primarily produced two specialties: wheat bread and wheat wine.
Back when the Cageno family was at its peak, such a remote estate could only be considered an insignificant piece of their vast wealth. But for the now fragmented and crumbling Cageno family, this humble manor had become the final sanctuary for the two siblings.
The once-prosperous royal capital could no longer accommodate the siblings. If they remained there, it would only be a matter of time before they were greedily divided up and devoured by those fat-bellied, cunning nobles, until not even a single gold dragon remained in their possession.
"Sister, do you think we'll ever be able to return to the royal capital?" Sid asked suddenly, his voice tinged with longing.
Claire was caught off guard. She opened her mouth, stunned and speechless. Her expression darkened into a heavy silence.
Seeing her reaction, Sid couldn't hold back anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes as he began to cry.
"Father... Mother…"
Sid missed the days when their father and mother were still alive, when the family was whole.
Seeing her younger brother still so fragile, Claire sighed deeply. She extended her arms, pulling him into a warm embrace, patting his trembling back as she softly comforted him.
"We will return to the royal capital, Sid. I promise you. But for now, you must stay strong. We must restore the Cageno family to its former glory."
In her arms, Sid sobbed but nodded vigorously, determined through his tears.
Just then, a shadow flickered.
A black arrow pierced the carriage and struck Sid squarely in the back.
Claire's reflexes were sharp, but the attack came too suddenly—she hadn't managed to block it.
The moment the arrow hit, Sid let out a low, pained groan before collapsing in Claire's embrace, completely unconscious.
"Sid!" Claire was momentarily stunned. Her eyes widened in horror as she looked at the wound on his back—the arrow was deeply embedded, dangerously close to his heart.
Cradling her weak, unconscious brother in her arms, Claire's eyes blazed with fury. With a low growl of rage, she gently laid Sid down, then grabbed the pale golden sword resting beside her and leapt out of the carriage.
Soon, the chaotic clamor outside faded into an eerie silence.
More than a dozen corpses in black robes now littered the stone road in Fengyu Town. Blood flowed freely, soaking into the cracks and staining the air with a thick, iron scent.
The Cageno family's guards and maids stood frozen, still in shock at the carnage.
"Don't just stand there! Go to the manor immediately! Sid is injured!" Claire shouted, her voice sharp with panic and anger.
The moment her command rang out, the guards and the carriage driver snapped back to reality. The groom quickly snapped his whip, and the carriage raced toward the manor.
Claire's figure blurred as she returned to the carriage, steadying her brother's body to prevent the bumps from worsening his wounds.
Not long after, the lavish carriage rolled into the grounds of the Cageno Manor. The guards who had ridden ahead had already notified the manor's resident physician.
"Quick! Sid is in the carriage! Hurry!" Claire yanked the curtain open, her voice high and desperate as she called to the doctor waiting at the manor gate.
The doctor rushed into the carriage with his medical kit, performing emergency treatment on Sid using various tools. But before long, his expression changed dramatically, his face turning pale.
"Miss, the young master… he's been poisoned," the doctor said, voice trembling.
Poisoned?
Claire's gaze dropped to Sid's bloodied shirt, which had been removed to expose the wound. A faint black hue was creeping along the skin surrounding the arrow. Her heart skipped a beat.
---
"Master Sid has been poisoned!"
The doctor's panicked cry pierced through the thick air, making Claire's chest seize. Without hesitation, she shoved him aside and dropped to her knees beside her younger brother. Her hands trembled as she reached for Sid's cold, clammy face—pale as bone china and far too still.
"What kind of poison? Can it be cured?!" she demanded, her voice tight and raw, desperation creeping through every word like a wildfire. Her usually calm tone now cracked with fury and fear.
The physician—a middle-aged man in his early forties, with graying temples and sweat gleaming on his forehead—gulped. His eyes darted between the wrathful heiress and the boy whose life slipped away with every shallow breath.
"I-I only know it's a strong toxin… a rare one. Possibly alchemical in nature. I—I can't identify the exact strain, Lady Claire. I don't know if—"
His words choked off mid-sentence as Claire's bloodshot eyes locked onto his, fierce and feral. Something ancient and dangerous flickered behind them, the eyes of a noble not born but forged in fire and ruin. The doctor shrank under her glare, biting his tongue before another word escaped.
There had always been whispers in the royal capital about Claire Cageno—the once-celebrated jewel of House Cageno, now exiled to a rural frontier. They called her too protective, too involved, too obsessed with her brother. But here, in this carriage soaked with blood and tension, those rumors felt like gospel. This was no performance—this was a sister on the verge of breaking.
In most noble households, kinship was a matter of breeding and succession of pure blood, not affection. But in the shattered remnants of the Cageno legacy, blood was all they had left.
The very air grew still. A weight seemed to descend over the manor grounds—heavy, suffocating, like a thunderstorm refusing to break.
Then, the silence shattered.
The sharp clatter of hooves echoed down the stone-paved road as a procession arrived in haste. At the front rode a bright-maned warhorse, gleaming despite the dust. Its rider was a portly man clad in rich cloth struggling to hide sweat stains—Mayor Thorne Lex, the appointed administrator of Windwhisper Town.
Behind him came several mounted guards and a wooden wagon, its cargo concealed beneath a heavy, black canvas.
"Chief Cageno! I am Thorne Lex, mayor of Windwhisper!" he called, his voice rising over the thudding hooves as he dismounted awkwardly with the help of a squire.
Thorne's face was twisted with fear. A noble heir had been attacked under his jurisdiction—no, nearly assassinated. And not just any noble, but the last male of a fallen house that still carried weight in the old bloodlines of the Empire. The fallout could be catastrophic. If Sid died, Thorne's head might follow shortly after.
But when he reached the carriage and glimpsed the boy's limp body inside, his knees buckled. His two-hundred-pound frame hit the cobbled stones with a heavy thud.
It's over.
That was the only thought his panicked mind could form. It wasn't just fear anymore—it was doom. Doom for him, doom for the town, and maybe doom for anyone who stood near the Cageno name.
Inside the carriage, Claire didn't so much as glance at the groveling mayor. She leaned protectively over Sid, her long black hair falling forward like a funeral veil, shielding her face from view. But everyone could feel her grief, her rage, her growing stillness.
No one dared move. Not the guards. Not the doctor. Not even the horses dared to stamp their hooves or snort.
The world itself seemed to be holding its breath.
And amid that unbearable silence, while all eyes remained fixed on the carriage...
…a subtle change occurred.
At the rear of the mayor's procession, beneath the black shroud covering the wagon, something ancient stirred.
It appeared at first to be nothing more than a decorative boulder—red-veined gold and jagged like volcanic glass, lying dormant amid straw and chains. But beneath its inert surface, something pulsed. Something watched.
A sliver of gold, shaped almost like a fang embedded in stone, shimmered faintly. Energy moved within it, too slow for the eye to catch, too steady to be natural.
A piece of the boulder—about the size of a bathtub and almost seamlessly embedded into the main rock—flickered.
A subtle energy pulsed inside.
---
A faint consciousness stirred from within the void.
"So… I've finally awakened from that deep slumber," I murmured, my awareness reemerging from the depths of the reverse scale—a sanctuary of soul buried within the very core of my dragon body. Even without light, sound, or sensation, I had not lost track of time. The innate temporal perception of dragons allowed me to clearly determine the duration of my hibernation.
By Tal's reckoning, I had been asleep for three months since crossing into this foreign world.
"Three months... That's long enough. The immediate danger should have passed by now." I cautiously extended a thread of consciousness outward.
Through that delicate tendril of awareness, I observed a group of humans nearby. Their attire resembled the fantastical adventuring garb worn by Western and Talian humans in my past lives—armored cloaks, enchanted rings, leather tunics reinforced with runic stitching, and steel at their hips.
Judging by their outfits and the ambient energy in the environment, this realm—or at least the region I had fallen into—was not primitive by any means. In fact, the level of magical and technological development might even surpass Tal. There was a curious blend of high civilization and raw wilderness.
I expanded my perception and assessed the magnetic fields of life surrounding me—evaluating their vitality, spirit energy, and overall strength that all living beings emanate.
"So weak," I thought. "The strongest presence here is no greater than a level two jackal. The rest? Mere level zero weaklings."
In the cosmic hierarchy of the Star Worlds, lifeforms are classified into tiers of existential progression. Level zero through level four are collectively known as the Lesser Tiers—lifeforms that exist on the threshold of the mundane and the arcane. Many among them never awaken to any supernatural force and rely purely on physical prowess, instinct, or tools.
Often referred to as "mortal-class." These are beings who may possess some physical prowess or cleverness, but are incapable of touching true extraordinary power without artificial aid.
Even among the low-tiers, the aura of these humans was feeble. They lacked refinement in their spirit signatures, most of them barely coherent.
Just as I prepared to expand my mental field further and explore the surrounding terrain, I felt a jolt of disorientation—my consciousness flickering. At the same time, the mental energy I had painstakingly preserved was rapidly bleeding away into the ether.
Not good. Very not good.
*****
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