Donald let out a soft whistle. "That treasure bed... nothing like it."
Ahead of them, over a bed of molten dragonsteel ingots, ember-light radiating volcanic diamonds, amulets flickering with imprisoned fire, and books bound in hardened lava leather, they crept forward, their gaze set on the enormous head of the Emberdrake.
Charles's fingers were itchy. "Treasure...Alchemy...power...brains, focus."
Charles knelt down, extracted a small device from his pack, and spoke aloud, "SIGMA, start recording. This is seismic. Legend-level."
In his mind: "Recording. Mixture of geological and magical signatures unmatched in the database. Recommendation: secure and label all assets."
Charles smirked. "You're not telling me to leave it here."
Nimbus nudged his shoulder, her gaze intense with a storm of sorrow and possessiveness. She ruled this mountain, and among the treasures, this was her mate. The bond between them pressed on Charles's heart, its weight like grief and lava. "Yes, okay, we'll preserve it," he breathed, his voice thick with reverence.
He turned to the team. "We secure the relics—dragonsteel, gems, and the Emberdrake's fossil core. The rest becomes arrays and vaults later. Move out!"
Everyone nodded in agreement. Arthur and Borris exchanged a silent glance; with synchronized gestures, they began carefully levitating the heaviest ingots into Woven-Thunder sacks.
As he selected a Stormheart Amulet, Donald let out a delighted squeal. "Check this out—a living artifact."
Wendy knelt down next to a clump of volcanic jewels and ran her fingertips delicately over their surfaces. "These tickle. Might want to see whether Emberdrake blood has a resonance frequency."
As if to surprise her, Charles let out a laugh. "Deliver it carefully; otherwise, it might start a wildfire."
Glancing up in wonder, they toiled beneath the enormous head of the Emberdrake. They were enchanted by the combination of stone and fire. Pebbles set in rock glistened like brushed bronze, and bits of cliff scale that had held wings together clung to petrified bone.
Charles knelt under the nose cavity—compelled by curiosity even he didn't fully grasp—and carefully reached inside. He withdrew a crystalline orb shimmering with molten pulses. "What's this?" he asked SIGMA.
[SIGMA replied: Lava Core Essence. High elemental amplification. Very rare.]
Charles's grin was feral. "Going to make a sword. No, a throne."
There was an abrupt, collective quiet as a wave of warmth rippled through the cave. The room resounded with Earth's rhythm; the lava spirit of the Emberdrake remained.
With a polite gesture, Charles sat at the base of the skull, placing his hand on the bone. With the exception of their breathing and the faint hum of the arrays overhead, the chamber was devoid of sound.
Perched on top of the treasure, Nimbus's talon respectfully touched the femur of the Emberdrake. Her expression was one of both sorrow and ferocious defense, as if she were keeping watch over her loved ones who had died.
Charles whispered, "I'll build you a proper shrine, big girl. This place—your family—it'll be remembered."
Nimbus blinked, low rumble of gratitude—or horror, he wasn't always certain.
He signaled the team to prepare. Arthur and Borris had boxed a few ingots; Kael and Karel hefted the heavier sacks of gems.
Time mattered. They were deep inside the mountain, close to the heat from the earth's shifting layers.
Charles motioned to the eggs. "How are they?"
Nimbus shifted so they could see two faint pulsing spheres in her nest-bag. Still dormant. Still potent.
Charles closed his eyes, breathed in the mingled smells: molten stone, stale bone, nutritious mana. "This is bigger than I imagined."
Kael tapped his assistant's shoulder. "Let's set up vault arrays and teleport grid here too, right?"
Charles nodded, mind racing. "Yes. We'll create a mini-lair with a Dragon Incubator wing and a heritage zone. Then we'll link the dragons to the East Wing Manor incubator. It'll be the ultimate control network, and everyone can log in."
Wendy groaned. "You're building a mansion for dragons? Again, this is mad."
He winked. "Mad genius, Wendy."
Karel chimed in. "We've got to get this out safely. We're deep. Dragons and arrays. Pressure's building."
Charles slapped his palm against the Emberdrake skull. "This immunity cloak array, by the way, is failsafe magic. If anyone intrudes, both dragons will defend themselves."
Arthur grinned. "Set traps?"
He nodded. "Main entry has earth-shock wards. Anti-levitate glyphs. Lightning cloaks."
Borris rubbed his beard. "We're basically a freakin' fortress inside a mountain."
Charles laughed. "Exactly."
They paced out circles of runestones and etched ancient seal glyphs in the stone with lava-core essence. Each glowing sigil pulsed in obedience.
By torchlight and crystal glow, the mountain lair awakened. The Emberdrake skeleton hovered on a platform, bound lightly with spectral array-lines. Vault-halos twinkled. The teleport portal shimmered, anchoring the chamber to East Wing Manor—all was in place.
Charles took a breath. "Facility secure. Dragons stable. Lair activated."
He crouched next to Nimbus. "Mama, you and junior stormlings are good here."
Nimbus shifted her massive body, tightening her coil atop the treasure mound. She extended her neck with a long, approving rumble.
SIGMA announced: "System stabilization complete. Dimensional link active. Resource extraction is safe to commence."
Charles patted Nimbus's shoulder. "Welcome to your museum."
The Heart of the Emberdrake
The cave pulsed with ancient sorrow and lingering hope. Every ember-scaled wing stilled in honor; each breath shivered with longing, regret, and memory for what had once burned bright.
Charles walked forward, his boots crunching on broken gem shards and dust. His heartbeat matched the deep, fiery beat from the heart at the center of the lair, where the Eternal Emberdrake's legacy shone.
The dragon's frame sprawled atop its hoard, a monument of divine fire; magma-veined scales, their jet black luster undimmed by centuries, blanketed its massive form.
Folded wings, massive and shaped like volcanic ridges, sheltered a palace of heat. The tail, banded with smoldering metal, curled atop a sea of molten riches.
Charles whispered, "Gentle hands." He glanced over his shoulder at his team, who instinctively slowed their movements. "This is more sacred than any battlefield. This… is legacy."
Kael drew his runed blade and ignited it with a deep earth-tone glow. "Feels wrong to cut into it. Like interrupting a god's dream."
"Do it respectfully," Charles replied. "He's earned that much."
Wendy knelt by a claw nearly as tall as she was, black as obsidian, with sharp arcs and curves like a scythe quenched in a dying star's core. "This," she smirked, "will make one burning dagger."
Charles raised an eyebrow. "Please just make sure it doesn't get stuck in me."
"No promises," she said in a sweet voice.
Donald, who was always grumpy, even took off his helmet and knelt in front of the dragon's snout, sweat running down his weathered face. He said, "I never believed in gods. But this... this isn't a beast at all." It's a statue."
Piece by piece, they harvested with reverence—broken scales, talons like swords, ancient fangs hardened by time. But all movement stopped when Charles approached the pulsing, suspended heart.
It floated above a broken red stone altar, circled by ghostly red qi. The heart's immense presence radiated both fury and aching sadness, thudding like the echo of a love lost to time.
Carefully, he lowered it into a carved jade containment box lined with sigil-woven silk. The seal closed with a hiss, and suddenly the cavern felt… lighter. As if the weight of memory had loosened.
Charles turned to Nimbus. "We're going to finish what he started."
Nimbus lowered her massive head, wings furling in a show of solemn respect.
He cleared his throat and broke the tension. "Alright, my aspiring demigod… time to build one heck of a temple."
The Dragon Temple of the Eternal Emberdrake
The team got back together at the cave entrance, where they were still squinting from the brightness of the relic room and covered in soot and sweat. Charles held up a glowing projection; SIGMA's holo-blueprint danced between his palms like a magic that had sprung to life.
"Look!" he said, raising his voice in a dramatic way. "Where some people see a crypt... I see a launchpad."
The hologram spun, showing a multi-tiered temple. Part of it was built into the mountain, while the rest opened to the sky. Crystal mana pillars arched into a dome over the Emberdrake's resting place. Below, hidden corridors led to sanctums and incubation chambers. There were incense channels, offering altars, and meditation nodes.
Kael raised a brow. "That's… ambitious."
Wendy peered at one chamber. "Is that a spa?"
"No, that's the fire-aspect rebirth sanctum," Charles said with mock indignation. "Also, yes, there will be hot springs."
Karel gave a low whistle. "So what are we building—a temple, a dragon fortress, or a luxury resort?"
Charles smirked. "Yes."
Wendy tilted her head. "Pilgrimage, power, and profit?"
"Trifecta," Charles said. "Why settle for one when you can monopolize all three?"
Donald, dusting his helmet, grunted. "So what—you gonna charge people entry?"
"Temple tax," Kael offered, deadpan.
"First two years waived," Charles replied. "After that, all donations are strongly encouraged. Optional… with mandatory enthusiasm."
They laughed.
Then Charles turned solemn, his gaze drawn to the two dragon eggs laid nearby—cradled in clouds of tempest-forged straw. Their cracked, glowing shells seemed to pulse with fragile promise and all the hope of generations past.
"Those two," he said softly. "They're not just hatchlings. They're heirs."
Wendy crouched beside them, hands hovering reverently. "You think they'll survive?"
"With SIGMA's arrays? Maybe two years," Charles replied. "Two years, not two centuries. That's the future we're building."
Nimbus approached quietly and laid a protective wing over the eggs. Her gaze was maternal, proud, and resolute.
"She'll be their guardian," Charles said. "We'll build her a throne room beside the incubation sanctum. High ceiling. Good acoustics. Lava moat optional."
Kael nodded. "Respect."
Charles turned back to the team. "We have the heart, the scales, and the temple plans. The next phase is clear: we need craftsmen, arcanists, and array engineers. We'll build it quietly, with no banners or parades."
"Stealth power," Karel muttered, folding his arms. "You really were a CEO."
Charles gave a wink. "And this... this is my new office."
He pointed back at the cave.
"What's the only difference? This boardroom is built on dragon bones."
Negotiation with Nimbus
Charles went back to the nest room later. The light from the torch danced on the crystal walls. Nimbus wrapped around her eggs to keep them safe, and her eyes shone like storm lanterns.
He walked up carefully, letting silence take over.
"Nimbus," he began, voice gentle. "That was your mate. I honor his memory. His scales, his horn, his claws—they'll become your armor, your strength. The temple will stand in his repose. And that heart,"—he touched the jade box—"half of it is yours."
Nimbus lowered one massive claw, laying it over the box. She exhaled a low rumble, cold fire crackling in her throat.
"And when you are ready," he said, voice catching, "we'll fuse the heart with you. You'll ascend. Core Realm 9, perhaps Unity Realm before too long."
Her wings unfurled slightly, lightning crackling in the membranes. It wasn't surrender—it was trust.
Charles placed a hand on her foreleg. "We do this together."
Nimbus closed her eyes and dipped her head. The connection was formed.
SIGMA's voice drifted into Charles's mind like a breeze from eternity. It was measured, reverent, and almost too calm for the weight it carried.
[Master. Calculations complete. Suggested fusion protocol finalized.]
A pause.
Then came the verdict.
[Half of the Emberdrake's heart will be put into your core. The rest will be added to Nimbus. Benefits: Your fire, earth, and lightning affinities will be permanently improved. Nimbus will bring forth dormant parts of your ancestry, like your fire and earth dragon heritage. The change that happens may bring forth a hidden demigod point of view.]
The air got thicker.
[Warning: This will take a lot of energy and spiritual strength. There is a 17.3% chance of core collapse, even under the best possible environmental and emotional conditions. Suggestion: Start the fusion during the Temple consecration ritual.]
Charles stood still, the heart's flickering red glow lingering in his mind. His fists gently tightened, not because he was scared, but because he had a reason.
This was the next step.
Power outside of the Core Realm.
A jump not in skill, but in who they are.
He breathed out slowly and carefully, allowing the fire of the dragon's legacy to settle into his bones.
He responded, "I agree," but the words had a force that shook the air. "We'll keep the fusion going until the temple is ready. First, we create our base."
He turned and headed toward the huge entrance to the chamber, his cape blowing in an odd wind. His shadow loomed out against the golden cave, with shadows from his past behind him and the light of the future ahead.
"Team!" he yelled, and his voice echoed like a prophecy. "We start digging here. This room will be called the Heart Hall. Put the runestones down, set up the mana conduits, and turn on the memory arrays. This is the seed. The home. The forge."
Kael put his sword away and nodded slowly, with iron resolution. "Let's make history."
Wendy put her arm around Kael's shoulder. "I swear, if I have to start calling you 'Dragon Archbishop' or something, I'm going to charge you extra."
Karel laughed. "I've already started a prayer scroll. Dear Fire-Lord Boss... is how it starts."
Charles smiled as little embers that wouldn't die even in the frigid underground air danced and flared down his fingertips. "Just remind me who is paying the bills when we start giving out blessings."
Donald groaned, but even his sneer showed respect. "Long as I don't have to wear robes."
Charles waved his hand across the room, and SIGMA's projections came to life. They showed floor plans, glowing leyline points, and structural designs with spiritual conduits running through them. There would be life in every inch of the chamber, an engine of change.
He murmured in a low voice, almost to himself, "This temple will be more than stone." It will be a sound of the past... a pledge that we won't just fade away into time. We get better through it.
Nimbus moved behind him. Her huge body moved like a queen in grief. She stopped at the door to the room, holding her eggs softly under her tail. The stormlight that was still on her wings made them shine, and the wind around her was full of memories.
She did not speak. She didn't need to.
She simply watched them go.
Watched as he walked forward to craft a world where dragons need not die forgotten.
The future thrummed softly in her bones, in the curve of her horns, in the way her tail protectively tightened around her unborn kin.
Charles looked back once.
Their eyes met.
"I won't let it be for nothing," he said, voice low.
Nimbus dipped her head—queen to king, guardian to heir.
Then the chamber sealed behind them, mana locks humming, starlight threads knitting into runes across the walls.
The temple was now alive.
The world just didn't know it yet.