We got 2 more chapters before the Arc ends. Let me know your thoughts on how this Arc was!
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The Dragon Eyrie existed above existence. Not in the sky, above it. Not in the heavens beyond them. It hung suspended in a realm beyond worlds, where the First Dragons shed their scales during creation and those scales became stars. The air was thin and heavy all at once, vibrating with the hum of ancient laws. Here, time behaved like a coiled serpent, looping back upon itself. Here, even Sovereign Dragons would have to tread carefully to not awaken the ire of much older forces, the Supreme Dragons!
A single presence vast, old, and terrible rested upon a perch that looked down upon the Nest he was in charge of. He was the Nest Warden, the overseer, an ancient administrator placed by higher powers to watch, record, and intervene only when protocol demanded.
The old Dragon opened one eye. The eye alone dwarfed a building. Its iris was a swirling nebula of gold and stormlight. Its pupil burned like a black sun. When it blinked, mortals would quake.
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Long had he watched and overseen the Nest below, that sealed pocket of creation where lesser dragons warred like children over scraps of power. Long had he remained silent as they crowned themselves monarchs, queens, tyrants, some forgetting their origin, others running to join proper dragonkind society.
But now… The world stirred. The Nest had reached its threshold. Seeds planted eons ago began to crack. A ripple of destiny, a violent one spread through the threads of fate, converging on the Nest far beneath him.
The White Dragon elder exhaled. His breath rippled through the void, sculpting passing starlight into flickers of aurora. The realm answered, quaking softly, like a world holding in its breath. Before him lay the corpse. It was immense. Ancient. Terrifying. Holy. A Dragon Emperor.
A being so powerful that entire civilizations could have been destroyed by it. A creature who had swallowed continents and shattered moons during its battles in eras past. Now, the titanic body rested lifeless upon the Eyrie's jagged plain, its wings torn, its bones cracked, its aura flickering like embers of a dying star. Even in death, the corpse radiated dominion. Not even the Elder Dragon dared touch it directly.
"Bah, lucky brats," the elder muttered under his breath. He would kill to taste even a morsel of this great one who reached the high but sadly fallen from true immortality. Some brat down there must have had their parents or clan pull some strings to get them this very rare opportunity.
Stone monoliths encircled the Emperor's corpse each inscribed with runes pulled from the First Language of Creation. They thrummed in resonance, lighting one by one as the White Dragon whispered the incantation that had taken years to weave. He did not speak with breath. He spoke with his soul. "Open the Gate."
The void above the Eyrie split open like a pupil dilating. A circular tear widened, revealing the Nest far, far below, a cradle of continents wrapped in storms and elemental biomes. The old Dragon leaned forward.
Through the portal, he saw the Nest's monarchs preparing: The Radiance Dragon gathering soldiers. The Fragrance Queen weaving poisonous blossoms into her queendom. The White Lady preparing herself. Artorius, a favorite of his he took notice of recently, who he felt a sense of kinship, a sickly dragon without scales, small but bright, walking his bloody path.
Yes. The time had come. The Elder Dragon's claws each larger than a skyscraper scraped the obsidian ground. Runes ignited in blinding radiance. The Eyrie shook as power surged into the monoliths. The corpse began to rise.
Slowly at first, pulled upward by invisible threads of power. Storms of cosmic ash poured from its wings. Its broken horns glowed faintly, remembering ancient battles. The Emperor's single cracked eye flickered with a dying spark, an echo of infinite wrath.
The old dragon watched without emotion. "This Nest has slept too long," he rumbled, voice shaking the void. "Its dragons have forgotten fear. Forgotten awe. Forgotten what it means to kneel before true power." He raised his head, mane of stardust shifting. "Let them remember."
The Dragon Emperor's corpse dropped. At first, it drifted. Weightless. Graceful. Then gravity seized it. A sonic boom shattered the Eyrie. A trail of stellar fire ignited behind the corpse as it plummeted toward the Nest. The Great Dragon watched its descent with eyes full of ancient judgment.
-
Artorius flew at the front, his wings stretched wide. His face set in cold determination. Behind him, Ouroboros rode the turbulent winds with casual ease, spiraling lazily through air like a creature who had never known fear. The serpentine dragon's scales shimmered like shifting gold and white, his long body winding effortlessly through the air.
"Hey," Ouroboros called, twisting upside-down so his long mane hung toward the icy ground. "You've been awfully quiet."
Artorius didn't turn. "I'm thinking."
"That mutation of yours?" Ouroboros asked, grinning with far too many teeth. "The new shiny toy?"
Artorius exhaled. "Yes. Explain it. What does the mutation do exactly? What should I expect?"
Ouroboros clicked his fangs thoughtfully. "Well… Draconic Empowerment is a very rare mutation which mostly dragonflight leaders or clan heads might have. The kind of stuff dragons love because it… ah… involves hierarchy."
"Hierarchy?"
"Yup." Ouroboros flicked his tongue mischievously. "See, dragons love hierarchy. It's our favorite thing. Big dragon eats small dragon. Small dragon fears medium dragon. Medium dragon worships big dragon. Everyone knows their place."
Artorius grimaced. "My people, humans aren't much different."
"Smart creatures!" Ouroboros gave a delighted hiss. "Anyway, Draconic Empowerment basically takes that instinct, we bow to the strongest and turn it into fuel. You don't just absorb dragon power. You take in its essence, its concept, its fury, its element."
Artorius frowned. "That sounds… dangerous."
"It is," Ouroboros said cheerfully. "You could lose yourself if you're not careful as you become one with whatever is empowering you."
Artorius's jaw tightened, basically he was to be a conduit. An all-powerful funnel but one that seemed to be dictated by what strengthened him. Ouroboros laughed when he saw his look, spiraling into a loop. "Relax. You're the most stubborn creature I know. You won't be consumed by it unless you let it."
"Anyways what interests me more than anything is how you keep on getting the good stuff!"
"What do you mean?" Artorius turned to look at him.
"Most dragons don't really get these nice and fancy abilities you keep on getting. Dragons at your level get more specific and tailor made abilities but you get very broad ranging and powerful abilities," the old serpent hummed to himself.
"Wait, are you saying I'm getting general mutations? Also my mutations are still rare right?" He raised an eyebrow in question.
"Yes and no, your mutations are way beyond what dragons at your rank get for example the earliest example in the history of dragon kind getting adaptability is Champion same for Empowerment, for Communion its Elder. This makes me question my theory that you are a Great Dragon descendant. I think you might be a Supreme Dragon descendant or even beyond."
"That is a lot of ifs and buts," Artorius remarked. "I would have like a definite answer what I am."
"Don't worry, ever since I have met you I have been using a skill of mine to try to find out more about your race, Dragonmen! I believe that is the key to finding out what you are exactly."
Artorius did not know how to feel about that when he heard, it definitely was an invasion of his privacy but he did want some answers which hopefully Ouroboros could provide.
A few days later, the Hollow Marshes gave way to the first hints of Ravagan's territory. Heat rolled across the air. The winds turned sharp and metallic, carrying the scent of burnt iron and sulfur. The Scorched Plains sprawled before them like a land of fire.
Miles upon miles of reddish earth, jagged ridges, endless wildfires lighting up, geysers of red smoke. Smoke danced across the sky, illuminating the fierce landscape with sickly orange light. This was Ravagan's home. The domain of the Crimson Drakonar. A biome built for war.
Artorius flew with his commanders at his side as the continued deeper into the biome it was soon clear the land was empty. Silence. No guards. No scouts. No watchtowers lit. No patrols walking the ridges. No war cries echoing in the distance. Not even the crackling of Ravagan's crimson firestorms.
Viserion landed beside him, crunching flaming grass underfoot. "This is not right. The White Lady had troops here. Hundreds. She fortified this biome heavily."
Raijin nodded, electricity dancing along his horns. "There is no sign of battle. No corpses. No blood. They vacated."
"Or were pulled back," Zoklath hissed, his heads lifting to sniff the wind.
Artorius's wings folded slowly against his back. The White Lady had given up an entire biome. Without a fight. Without leaving behind so much as a smear of blood. This was not a loss. This was a strategic decision she made. "It looks like she decided to hold up in her home biome. For now this biome is ours," Artorius declared, planting his foot into the scorched ground.
Artorius turned to his army. "Spread out. Secure everything. Take control." A roar thundered across the plains as hundreds of dragons charged forth.
-
Artorius stepped into the final chamber of the dungeon in the Scorched Plains, the world around him darkening as the cave swallowed him whole. The tunnel descended sharply, the heat intensifying the further he went. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged into a vast, cavernous arena.
In the center of the cavern, a giant, flaming monkey creature stood—towering over the ground, its massive form wreathed in writhing fire and molten ash. It was an imposing, primal beast, its body a collection of rippling muscles and thick, flame-covered fur. Its face was grotesque, twisted into a fierce, snarling expression, eyes burning like twin suns as it pounded its chest with massive, molten fists.
[Flaming Dragon Ape — Level 27]
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The creature roared, sending a shockwave through the arena, its fiery fur crackling like dry tinder. Artorius had no time to waste as the battle was on. It wasn't long before Artorius stood over the fallen creature, panting, his body smoking and singed but still standing. He had survived the fight and come out on top.
You have slain[Flaming Dragon Ape — Level 27]
Congratulations! You have leveled up. Archetype: [Leader] → Lv. 20
Stat gains: +1 INT, +1 WIL, +1 CHA
Gained New Trait: Ambitious
Congratulations! You have leveled up.
Class: [Storybook Squire] → Lv. 20
Gained New Skill: Training Regimen
As the fire around him died down, the temperature of the arena began to return to a tolerable level. Artorius pumped his fit, another milestone had been hit. His body thrummed with the newfound strength. Looking over his new trait and skill he gained he pulled them up.
Ambitious: Driven by a powerful desire to achieve greatness, overcome challenges, and leave your mark on the world. Your drive fuels your action, making you an unstoppable force to be reckoned with.
Training Regimen: Through relentless discipline and repetition, grow faster than nature intended. Every hardship overcome becomes fuel; every battle becomes practice. Skills sharpen rapidly, stats improve through effort, and even complex techniques can be mastered with time.
"Interesting," he muttered to himself. He wondered what this trait and skill did. He was left to his own devices to figure it out. Ouroboros was a fount of knowledge when it came to dragons.
Looting the creature, there was one item that interested him that he picked up for himself. A reddish furred mantle that contained an inner flame flickering just beneath the surface.
Flaming Mantle(Special) - Using the inner heat found in the body, regeneration is boosted. Burning away fatigue and wounds.
Putting on the mantle, he already felt warmed up and the chill pushed away. This would be a great addition as he was pretty resilient but his regeneration ability to recover from wounds left much to be desired.
Heading deeper in, he came to the trial chamber and tried to do the trial as he touched the brass knuckles. However nothing happened. Ouroboros did mention this could happen, he could only enter lordly trials for each stats once.
They gave +3 stats. This seemed to be a strength or constitution trial and he already did those with only a Lordly Luck trial left for him which were quite rare. He needed to look for the ones next up, Kingly trials.
As Artorius returned to the stronghold, he could feel the weight of the final battle. Inside the stronghold, the air was thick with the smell of blood and steel, the distant sounds of his army preparing for the impending battle. His commanders and advisors were gathered in the war room, awaiting his orders. Artorius stood at the front, his expression unreadable, as he processed the new information.
Shiun was the first to speak. "We got word of what we are facing. Ouroboros assumption is correct, the fragrance queen did not personally show up, but she sent her right hand, Auxithkox the radiance dragon!"
Raijin, shook his head grimly, "Well that is not great. He is a High dragon lord, a direct descendant!"
Artorius's eyes narrowed. "What about the rest that the fragrance queen sent?"
"There is Avendryn, the Moss Dragon. The Pollen Dragon, Erythra. The White Lady, Isylith. And lastly, Ravagan, the Crimson Drakonar. Besides them all together our forces should be the same, 1,000 plus 500 which they can scrunch up," Shiun concluded.
Artorius's jaw tightened, his hands gripping the table. "Well then our orders are clear then. I will personally face Auxithkox. Viserion you will face the White Lady. Raijin you will face Ravagan. Zoklath you will face Avendryn. And Shiun you will face Erythra. The Oblivion dragon will be our backup plan."
His officers nodded, their resolve firm. The war was no longer a matter of just winning or losing. It was about survival. Artorius knew the stakes had been raised. They were no longer fighting for territory, they were fighting for the future.
And with each dragon, each warrior they faced, Artorius would need to draw on every ounce of his cunning, strength, and the power of his allies to secure victory. The battle lines were being drawn. And no one, not even the mightiest of dragons, could escape the consequences of this coming storm.
As the weight of his orders settled in, Artorius headed up. The preparations in the stronghold were already underway, but before he led his forces to war, Artorius needed to sharpen his edge further. He couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect.
The Draconic Vector Engine was already humming with power as he walked in. He could feel the lingering effects of the Hydro-strain, the Toxic, the Lightning, the Flame, and the Frost protocols he put himself through running through his veins.
"Let's begin, Ouroboros," Artorius spoke quietly as the small dragon entered. "Let's focus on Light, the power of the radiance dragon I will be facing!"
Ouroboros' voice filtered through once he entered the orb, playful and mocking, but with a trace of respect. "I thought you'd be tired after the last rounds, but you're still hungry for more. Fine, let's see what you've learned, then. Trial One: The Radiance Protocol."
A deep rumble filled the chamber, and suddenly, the air began to shimmer. Light began to bend and shift in unnatural patterns, as if the very fabric of space was being altered.