A city in ruins—
The city was ablaze, a kilometer-wide magical array spiraling in the sky as a relentless cascade of fire rained down. Bereft of its magical barriers, this medieval city stood no chance against the legendary spell unleashed by a demi-god dragon.
Legendary spells were the pinnacle of this world's magic, second only to the dominion of deities, powerful enough to harm gods and vanquish foes of the same legendary stature.
This exalted status of mages wasn't without reason. Their rarity and the steep demands of their craft were factors, but the sheer power wielded by a legend advanced in the arcane was paramount. However, typically, a legendary mage mastered only one such spell, and casting it was no trivial matter. Complex preparations, rituals, and even sacrifices were involved, making the invocation of a legendary spell a monumental endeavor.
Drake's "legendary spell" wasn't truly magic but divine art, using the limitless potential of his godly power and the Emerald Dream's ability to turn fantasy into reality.
The result was a city consumed by flames: walls collapsed, districts incinerated, and people screamed and fled. Ordinary water could not extinguish the divine flames plummeting from above.
After loosing "Pyroclastic Flow," Drake had little else to do. He didn't need to lift a claw; the city had already fallen.
[Host, there is a special metal in that cathedral that can serve as a permanent coordinate locator.]
AI, silent since the battle began, startled Drake with its sudden interjection.
"In that cathedral, huh..."
Drake's draconic gaze shifted toward the city's highest point, where grand architecture formed a circle around the central cathedral. Magnificent as it was, it seemed modest compared to Drake's three-hundred-meter length.
After a moment's contemplation, Drake shrank to a mere twenty meters in length, enabling him to stride through the cathedral's grand entrance.
A flick of his tail shattered the doors as he entered with pomp. The interior dazzled with luxury: stained glass and mythic frescoes, opulent chandeliers, plush carpets, with gold and purple hues lending an air of sanctity and majesty.
The cathedral was deserted, its clergy having evacuated, leaving behind their treasures for fear of attracting the dragon's greed.
Thus, the fortress of art and riches became Drake's by happenstance.
"I'm glad I didn't demolish this structure with magic; what a loss that would've been," Drake mused, sweeping the obstructive furniture aside with his tail. He now stood in the main worship hall where, according to AI, the components needed for the permanent locator were housed.
'AI, which item do you need?'
Drake scanned around, unsure which artifact AI desired.
[The statue.]
AI's answer drew Drake's attention to the room's central figure—a twenty-meter-tall statue of an indistinct female deity, her every curve a masterwork conveying compassion, grandeur, and divinity. Her presence commanded awe and worship from all who beheld her.
This unnamed goddess must be one of the many deities worshiped by the church, surprising Drake with its polytheism, a rarity compared to Earth's major monotheistic religions.
"What's special about this statue?"
Despite his scrutiny, even with divine power at his disposal, Drake saw nothing extraordinary about it.
[The statue itself is mundane; it's the material it's made from that's perfect for a permanent wormhole locator.]
"What should I do now?"
Drake didn't inquire further. His understanding of magic and high technology was limited—if not for the godly core, he'd be a promising fledgling dragon at best.
[Just touch the statue, Host, and I'll handle the rest.]
Drake approached and tapped the statue with his claw. To his astonishment, it melted into a pool of molten metal. A special energy emanated from him and enveloped the statue, which swiftly reshaped into a metallic doorframe glowing with soft blue light, identical to the temporal gate he had traversed.
[The permanent locator is now established. Please protect it, Host. It's our only conduit between Earth and the world of Saint Soren.]
"Protecting this gate, huh... Well, I'll find a secluded place to hide it soon enough."
Drake pondered briefly before deciding.
[Apologies, Host, but the locator cannot be moved. Its recorded position is fixed to this precise location. Moving it would result in significant coordinate deviation, and for spacetime travel, even a slight error can lead to uncontrollable consequences.]
Drake's frustration bubbled over. "What? You're saying this gate has to stay here? I have to protect it here always??"
[Indeed, and to be precise, the device must not leave a kilometer radius from its current position, or we risk deviation.]
"You damned AI, why didn't you tell me sooner? If I knew, I'd have moved the statue first!"
Drake's demeanor shifted from shock to ire. Without further thought, he stormed out of the palace, transformed back into the three-hundred-meter primordial dragon, and addressed the cowed survivors below.
"I am Drake XXX Galakrond. All races still resisting, lay down your arms and surrender. This city now belongs to me. Those who submit shall live; resistors and runaways shall perish. I shall be your lord henceforth. This city shall be renamed—'Dragon City'!"
Drake soared, projecting his command to every corner of the city with his divine might, simultaneously extinguishing the still-burning fires of his earlier wrath.
Initially planning to destroy and flee, the unexpected permanence of the locator meant he had to shift from plunderer to occupier, from ravager to ruler.