The moonlight bathed the inn in silver silence as Kai and Zac finally drifted into uneasy sleep, their dreams troubled by all they'd learned.
The map lay spread out between them, a web of kingdoms and domains inked in ancient strokes. For now, their journey paused.
But far away, another path moved forward—one paved by the footsteps of legends.
Ares, Champion of Aura and Hero of the War, strode with relaxed confidence through the dense trees of the Wyldfire Expanse.
His long red scarf fluttered in the wind, and each step left a faint ripple of energy in the ground.
He had no armor, only loose martial robes, and on his back was his sheathed sword—an heirloom from his violent, relentless master.
"Been a while," he muttered, a faint smile on his lips.
"Wonder if Tharros's gotten slower." He walked through the edge of dragon territory, where the sky burned with stars and the trees seemed scorched by age-old fire.
The Wyldfire Expanse was no place for a normal human.
Wild beasts roamed freely, the very air thick with primal energy. But Ares walked unbothered.
This was not his first time here. Ahead, a great gate made of twisted obsidian and bone-like stone jutted out of the forest like a fang.
The entrance to the Dragon Domain. However, something was different. Instead of the usual laid-back elder dragon that let him pass, three younger dragons stood guard, each nearly twice the height of a man.
They hadn't noticed him yet. Ares watched, arms crossed, as the dragons conversed in the ancient dragon tongue—a deep, vibrating language known as Durnir'kai, full of throaty hisses and guttural power.
"Rha'dra vo'ten karkesh," the orange-scaled one said, chuckling.
"Va'zren dosh thal miran—ha!" the blue-scaled one laughed.
The green-scaled dragon gave a bored sigh, leaning against a stone spire with his tail swishing.
Ares tilted his head. "Young ones," he murmured. "No wonder they're acting up. Still... dragons are prideful.
They won't let me through unless I humble them."
He stepped forward.
"Zhar'kai drom thanek," he said in fluent Durnir'kai. I seek audience with the High Flame of the Sky, Tharros.
The dragons snapped to attention, startled by his voice—and his command of their language. The orange dragon stepped forward.
"Insolent human!" he growled in Common tongue. "You made it this far and didn't die? Leave now before we scorch you into ash."
Ares blinked. "That's not very welcoming. I come here all the time, actually. Tharros and I spar, remember?"
"You dare speak our king's name so casually?" the blue dragon hissed.
"That's... what friends do?"
The green dragon stepped forward, towering over Ares.
"Enough! Prepare to be burned for your disrespect, mortal."
Without warning, the orange dragon roared, unleashing a blazing inferno that turned the forest behind Ares into molten rubble.
The blue dragon followed up, exhaling a freezing breath that crystallized the ground.
But through the fire and frost, Ares stood still—untouched.
His aura, deep and calm, pulsed outward in waves of blue energy. It shimmered like a second skin, warding off the elements with ease.
"Is that all?" Ares yawned. "I didn't even flinch."
The green dragon growled, snapping his clawed fingers. The two younger dragons spread their wings and charged.
"No swords," Ares reminded himself. "Tharros'll get mad if I kill his Kins."
The orange one lunged first, claws swinging like blades. Ares leaned, ducked, and let his aura absorb a swipe, then pivoted and delivered a palm strike to the dragon's chest.
The blow sounded like thunder. The orange dragon flew back, crashing into a tree with a groan.
The blue dragon swooped down, freezing the air around his claws.
Ares backflipped into the sky, flipping off a stone spire and slamming down with an elbow to the dragon's head.
Ice shattered from the impact, and the dragon's eyes rolled back as he dropped.
Green scales glimmered as the last dragon narrowed his eyes.
"I see… you're no ordinary human."
Ares smirked. "Getting that now, are you?"
"Still, you insult our king. For that, I shall erase you."
The green dragon surged forward with terrifying speed, wings snapping open as he unleashed a flurry of razor-sharp winds.
Ares raised his hands, aura solidifying into a translucent shield that blocked the slashes.
In a flash, the dragon was above him, tail spinning like a blade.
Ares caught it with one hand.
"You're strong," he admitted. "But you rely too much on size."
He spun, lifting the dragon with raw strength and slamming him into the ground. The mountain trembled.
The forest gasped. The dragon tried to rise—until a voice cut through the tension like silk.
"Enough."
Ares turned. From the obsidian gate emerged a stunning dragoness in humanoid form. Her scales shimmered between ice-blue and pearl-white, her eyes glowing like twin moons. She wore an elegant robe embroidered with draconic script and moved with regal grace.
"Veltharia…" Ares said, bowing slightly.
The green dragon froze. "Princess Veltharia?!"
"Indeed," she said coldly, stepping forward. "And you just assaulted my father's guest."
"But he—he called the king by name!"
Veltharia's gaze narrowed.
"That's because they are friends. Father welcomes Ares Flamebreaker as a brother of battle."
The green dragon stepped back, ashamed. "We… we didn't know."
"Of course you didn't," Veltharia replied. "You assumed, and you attacked. That is not the dragon way."
Ares sighed, dusting off his robe. "No hard feelings. It was fun, honestly."
Veltharia turned to him, her voice softening.
"He is preparing for your arrival. He sensed your presence earlier and cleared the Flame Circle for your match."
"Thanks, Vel. Always a pleasure."
She gave him a ghost of a smile. "Come. I will escort you."
As they walked, the forest lit with dragonfire from far ahead.
Ares cracked his knuckles, excitement sparking in his eyes. This was why he lived—to challenge himself, to grow, to fight.
And somewhere else, in a small inn miles away, Kai stirred in his sleep—unaware that the future of this world would soon rest in their hands.