A ball of flame dispelled the shadows reigning over the limestone corridors for an unknown stretch of time.
It danced on the sharp claws of a figure standing over eight feet in height, with a body naturally armoured in iridescent red scales, hosting three reptilian heads each crowned by branching horns.
The left head of the creature opened its maw, unveiling a line of pointed teeth and a pair of long fangs. He gently blew a streak of flames into the floating fireball and made it burn brighter, illuminating more of the path ahead.
The white-haired, pale skinned young man walking by them shivered, despite the noticeable rise in temperature and his attire consisting of a velvet tailcoat layered over a white shirt and black breeches. The horrid tales of dragons kept flashing in his mind and it sent a chill down his spine.
The semi-transparent golden screen with words written in white that appeared in his periphery did not help him regain his bearings at all.
[ Species: Hydrous Eldragon ]
[ Names: Gyrtheon (Left Head) / Dyroth (Middle Head) / Syracth (Right Head) ]
[ Astronary Rank: Tier 3-B (Child of the Void) ]
[ Physical Attributes: Strength (30) / Agility (25) / Endurance (40) ]
[ Skills: Rampage (C-Rank) / Flame Manipulation (C-Rank) ]
[ Abilities: Gift of Fyre (C-Rank) / Dragonic Scales (C-Rank) ]
'Son of a scum... They're related!' Avlier cursed out inwardly, his forehead gleaming in cold sweat.
In the continent of Helfeign, dragons are feared beings by everything and everyone. They are creatures of destruction and death, able to topple kingdoms within seconds. Never in his wildest imagination did he ever think of being a captive of someone related to them.
"What in the world..." Avlier mumbled inaudibly, in complete disbelief for everything around him.
He was just in his castle moments ago!
If he remembered correctly, he was inspecting his father's medallion, which set him ablaze out of nowhere. Afterwards, he was in a marketplace filled with non-human beings where he got knocked out cold and dragged into this ancient sand temple.
'Why is this happening to me?' He glanced at the golden screens and swatted them away. They faded, but left him deeply puzzled by what they truly were. Avlier shook his head, clearing his mind of his jumbled thoughts.
He focused on the most important issue. 'I have to get out of this damned place and return home!'
Avlier looked down on his right hand palm, where a golden tattoo of a brilliant sun emblazoned his skin. It was on the spot where the medallion had burned itself. He suspected that the medallion was the root of all these things happening to him, including the inhuman power he utilized moments ago.
He vividly remembered his body shrouded in golden haze as he was granted immense physical boost.
It happened twice automatically, but he was clueless on how to make it happen manually. That boost might help him escape the clutches of the three brothers if he learns to control when and where to use that power.
"Eyes ahead, Pale Guy." Gyrtheon, the left head of the Eldragon, casually reminded with a friendly smile, pulling Avlier from his train of thoughts.
Avlier snapped his eyes forward.
He has the ability to perceive the traps hidden around the labyrinth.
Although he didn't know how and why he could see them, this gift proved to be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it let him avoid instant death, but on the other, his captors would never let him escape given his value.
The gears of his mind spun as he formulated possible ways to get out of this place. His thoughts eventually went back to the boost he experienced a while ago. If he is vested with that power once more, his chances of survival will dramatically increase.
'It's Starborne Force, if I'm not mistaken.'
Suddenly, a golden screen popped up without warning.
[ Ability: Starborne Force (C-Rank) ]
[ Lite Overview: Increases all physical attributes by 200% for 10 seconds at the expense of 50 Stellar Energy. ]
[ Stellar Energy: 0 / 100 ]
Avlier felt glad seeing the familiar name. But the feeling lasted briefly before he read the last screen. He had absolutely no idea what Stellar Energy was, where, when, and how to acquire it.
'Why does this thing not have some sort of manual or something!?' His brows furrowed with irritation. He was completely at a loss on how to operate his system. The experience was fairly foreign to him--a man from a world of castles, swords, and rising use of hot weapons.
He's already trying his best!
Out of nowhere, a booming remark reverberated. It came from Syracth, the right head of the three-headed Eldragon who noticed that Avlier was distracted.
"Hey, focus!" He scowled at Avlier, huffing crimson flames from his nozzle. Unlike the left head, he did not exude an approachable presence. His crimson eyes sharply narrowed, harboring angst toward Avlier.
He had not forgotten what he had suffered from their battle earlier. Syracth wanted Avlier dead. And the feeling was mutual.
However, Avlier did not let his emotions get the better of him. He knew he was no match for this creature at the moment. Reflexively, he clutched the polished handle of the gilded handgun flintlock in his hand. Though he seriously doubted his bullet could do any real damage to the eldragon, he held it just in case.
"Cut him some slack, will you?" Gyrtheon said to his brother, displeased by his attitude.
Syracth glared at him. "And why should I?"
Tension charged the air between the two.
"First, he's a valuable asset. His trap-seeing ability is Godsend in this place, and it might work better if he's in sound mind." Gyrtheon explained.
"Hmph! Intimidation is, or even more, effective." Syracth snorted, standing firm by his actions. "The way I see it, you're being awfully friendly with him."
"Because I can actually think," Gyrtheon remarked, pointing to his head proudly. "It's easier to make someone do your bidding when you give them a sense of camaraderie."
The hand in Syracth's respective side of the body clenched in fury. "You're saying I can't?"
"Your words." Gyrtheon's eyes rolled to the side.
"Why you—!"
"ENOUGH!" Dyroth, the middle-head, caught in the crossfire of their bickering finally snapped from his usual brooding. His thundering voice silenced the corridor for a short while. "You two should focus on the task at hand—find the stash of Atenstone and that damn Primal Atenstone! Have you two not caused enough trouble!?"
Syracth pouted and eyed Gyrtheon menacingly. "He started it."
"I did not! You did," Gyrtheon denied the accusation.
"All I did was remind him."
"You mean terrorize him?"
"It was effective...!"
The two fell into a heated argument once again, and Dyroth was right in the middle of them. He tried to diffuse the situation but found his efforts useless. Before long, their argument turned into a full blown scuffle.
Fists and scathing curses flew. The eldragon staggered past Avlier, its massive body swaying unsteadily as Syracth and Gyrtheon threw wild punches at each other, each wielding the arm on their respective side of the body. It was by far the most bizarre and chaotic sight of self-inflicted violence Avlier had ever seen.
And exactly how he imagined a fight between them would be.
"I'll freaking break your face, Lizard!" The right arm swung at the left head in an arc.
The left arm jabbed in retaliation. "Ha! After I shove my fist down your throat, Syr!"
"You two! CUT. IT. OUT!" Meanwhile, the two tails of the eldragon that are in Dyroth's control coiled around the long necks of his brothers. He tried to pin them down and stop the fight. But he wasn't so successful.
While this was happening, Avlier quietly distanced himself from them, knowing that a single punch could send him flying. His eyes darted around for a way to escape. Sadly, the limestone corridor was one-way, and the path behind him had already sealed shut.
The only other way was forward, blocked by the eldragon thrashing around.
Avlier racked his brain, planning to slip past the eldragon unnoticed. Just as he was eyeing them for the perfect moment to make a run for it, a golden shimmer caught his eye. In his perspective, the tile under the eldragon's hind legs glowed.
The tile is a trap!
Avlier beamed with a wide smile, thinking the brothers would finally die and he would be freed.
To his horror, the entire floor vanished instead!
Before he could process what had happened, he plunged down into the darkness whereas the eldragon unfolded its pair of wings and temporarily paused its descent. However, its wings were more of a decoration and for intimidation rather than for flying. It began to fall down after Avlier.
Bam! Bam!
All of them smacked down onto a limestone slide, clattering through the sands and bones, to be launched hundreds of feet into the air and splatter on the ground. Cracking ribs were the least of Avlier's concerns as they neared the end of the slide.
His hands waggled and grabbed whatever he could. He took hold of a long rib bone which he stabbed into the limestone.
It could not pierce through.
"DAMN IT!!!"
With little choice, Avlier tucked himself into a ball and hoped for the best outcome—anything but death. He flew in the air, able to witness the horrifying, yet mesmerizingly beautiful sight that lay before him.
The room spanned hundreds of meters in length, with heavily engraved walls and a high ceiling looming over a vast expanse of desert sand. Angled mirrors illuminated the entire room, reflecting intense beams of sunlight entwined into complex webs.
Avlier knew each of those beams could cut him in half. And he is heading in one!
Fortunately, the eldragon grabbed him just in time. It flew like a giant buzzing bee, its wings struggling to keep its massive body afloat. Avlier did not fall into the beam, but his added weight caused them to plummet into the sandy ground.
Bam!
Avlier winced in pain from the broken bones he sustained. In spite of the agony, he moved and scanned the surroundings immediately. He found his gun sticking half-buried in the sand not far away. Its silver frame lined with gold glinted in the light.
"This is all your fault!" Syracth hissed, pointing an accusatory finger at Gyrtheon before scraping sand off his tongue.
Gyrtheon puffed sand from his nostrils and shot back, "Mine!? If you hadn't swung your arm at me—"
A pungent odor grabbed everyone's attention, cutting through their argument.
The eldragon hurriedly stood up, the brothers' expression shifting into confusion. Avlier sensed something was wrong and grabbed his flintlock. He was about to run away when something yanked his foot down into the sand.
He looked down and froze, his blood running cold. Wrapped around his ankle was a hand—tinted black and gray, dry, and rotten.
'What the fuck is even that!?'
[ Eternal Servant of Varsthu (F-Rank) ]
[ Classification: Dunewright Undead ]
[ Physl. Attribt.: Strength (4) / Agility (5) / Endurance (3) ]
Avlier ignored the golden screens and smashed the hand using his gun, shattering the fingers into pieces. Black blood splattered across the sand and he freed himself from its grip.
He scrambled away but before he could catch his breath, the entity buried in the sand crawled out, revealing itself to be a humanoid figure with long, coiling horns on either side of its head.
"Undead!?"
"What!? Here!?"
The brothers exclaimed as ancient corpses rose from the sand in great numbers around them. The undead creatures' bodies had decayed, yet they moved as though alive. The air turned pungent as the rolling hills of golden sand shifted to black, blanketed by thousands of undead.
Avlier glanced at the eldragon for hope, only to find the three brothers backing away, their lofty confidence shrinking rapidly. Avlier despaired.
"How in the world did I end up in this situation?"
He couldn't help but wonder.