After viewing the sights with Mason, I bid him farewell and headed back home, leaving Mason to carry on with his watch.
Upon stepping through the door of my house, I was immediately enveloped by an enticing aroma that tantalized my senses.
Elaine had already laid out an array of delectable dishes on the table and arranged the silverware. Meanwhile, Lancelot was perched in his high chair, joyfully flailing his arms in delight.
"I took some time to clear my head before coming back. Sorry for being gone for so long," I explained as I kissed Elaine and sat beside Lancelot. While we were having our meal, we casually chatted about our day like any family would. There wasn't anything particularly exciting or noteworthy that happened.
The only thing that sparked a conversation was my overwhelming sense of joy while outside. When I mentioned it, Elaine said, "It's likely just your excitement to leave that cramped room finally." She had a point, well, sort of.
After concluding my dinner, it was time for me to retire for the night.
I plan to give Sam another call tomorrow, and I sincerely hope that I will be able to connect with him this time around.
The next day
A violent jolt of mana ripped me from the depths of my dreams, dragging me into a reality fraught with dread. The air was thick with panic, as anguished cries erupted from the villagers gathered in the central chamber.
As I fumbled to clothe myself, frantic pounding on the door sent shivers down my spine, and a familiar voice pierced the darkness: "Leon! Something's terribly wrong! You must come out now!" Arnold's urgent shout echoed in my ears as I rushed to finish dressing, the weight of impending doom heavy upon me.
Elaine gasped in alarm, her voice filled with urgency as she cried out, "What is going on? Why is there this overwhelming pressure?!?" Startled, she shot upright in her bed, beads of sweat cascading down her forehead.
"I need to find out what's happening right away. Stay here and do not venture out of the cavern under any circumstances. I promise I will return," I reassured her, my words firm, before sprinting out of the house and into the lively cavern atmosphere.
Arnold and Mason stood at my front door, their expressions somber and serious.
"Leon, this is concerning; I've never encountered a signature this powerful before. I've instructed the guards to remain in place but to remain vigilant. We need to investigate this further."
As we stepped out of the cavern, a horrifying sight greeted us, and the overwhelming force instinctively compelled us to raise our hands to protect our faces.
"It's a hundred miles out. What's bothering me is the signature's essence, like there are multiple entities merging into one," Ifrit spoke out from my chest.
Arnold's gaze shifted to my chest the moment Ifrit's voice resonated from within me.
"Is this the same feeling you got when sensing Abaddon, Ifrit?" Arnold asked as he looked at my chest, specifically at my necklace.
"I could feel the danger he posed, though I must admit, it paled compared to the current situation. Whether intentionally or not, Abaddon restrained himself for the entirety of your confrontation with him. I chose to remain on the sidelines, recognizing that his intent was not to kill you despite the immense power he possessed."
My gaze shifted toward the origin of the mana, where a thick, dark purple energy swirled into the atmosphere, indicating the presence of a formidable entity at its core.
"I find myself feeling somewhat doubtful about the situation. The timing appears to be almost too coincidental, Leon. It's just two days since your recovery, and now we're faced with this?"
He had a point; this entire scenario certainly sparked a sense of unease. Nevertheless, what truly matters at this moment is confronting the challenge before us. Without needing to articulate it, we were all aligned in our thinking: We must put a stop to whatever is over there.
As we made our way through the ravaged expanse of the forest, tracing the path of the river that meandered down from the lake nestled at the base of the mountains, Ifrit expressed his admiration, saying, "The power of your teamwork is undeniably your greatest asset. In all my experiences with mages, I have yet to witness a level of coordination as flawless as yours. It speaks volumes about the deep connection and mutual understanding among you."
We surged forward, racing at full throttle, only to be abruptly brought to a standstill by the overwhelming presence of a potent mana signature. A dizzying sensation washed over me, accompanied by a rising wave of nausea that clawed at my throat.
Every hair on my body bristled with an electric charge, and my eyelids felt as if they were encased in frigid ice.
"Exercise caution," Ifrit cautioned, his voice trailing into an unsettling silence.
"Ifrit?" I called out, a wave of anxiety washing over me as his stillness lingered. While Ifrit was typically a man of few words, this silence felt out of character.
We found ourselves approximately 90 miles away, grappling with an overwhelming force akin to being trapped in a relentless ocean current. The pressure emanating from the Mana Signature was unlike anything I had ever experienced, an otherworldly force that showed no signs of abating.
With each step I took, my limbs felt increasingly burdened, as if gravity was intensifying with every movement. Sweat trickled down my skin, carving paths of moisture in its wake.
Suddenly, a frigid gust of wind lashed against me, reminiscent of the harsh, biting breezes accompanying a fierce blizzard. I instinctively raised my hands to shield my face from the onslaught.
"This is insane! I can hardly move my legs! And with my radar on the fritz, I have no clue how far we are!" Mason shouted, his frustration spilling over.
Despite the mana coursing through our veins, the chasm of disparity in strength between us and the looming menace was painfully apparent.
"We cannot wait. We must face the origin of this peril and extinguish it, or else the lives within the cavern shall be snuffed out. The barrier is but a fragile veil against such insurmountable might," Arnold gasped, his complexion drained to an unnatural pallor.
His words hung heavy in the air, a chilling truth that resonated with the gravity of our situation; even if it meant stepping into the jaws of oblivion, we had no choice but to act.
"Arnold, should things take a turn for the worse, I need you to summon a wind spirit to convey a message to Father. Inform him of our current predicament."
"It has already been taken care of, yet a flicker of hope remains. The Regional Guardian is bound to react to this invasion into her territory, particularly when confronted with such a display of power. While Abaddon has indeed launched an invasion, it was not in this manner." At this point, Mason interjected.
"Yeah, well, no offense, but The Regional Guardian is shit at her job. She's supposed to PROTECT us, not watch and eat popcorn! She better come and do her job!"
"If you keep talking like that, you might get struck by lightning," I remarked, attempting to ease the tension.
Following what seemed like an endless struggle against the relentless forces of nature, we at last arrived at the serene heart of the tempest. The heavy burden that had pressed down upon us dissipated, the furious winds that had howled around us faded into silence, and we began to regain our vigor. Arnold, ever perceptive, immediately noticed the shift in our surroundings and expressed his unease.
"This isn't right. Typically, releasing one's Mana Signature doesn't behave this way. The source intentionally matched their Mana Signature to that of a storm. But why?"
Again, Arnold was right on the money.
"Impressive observation, Arnold; indeed, this situation is quite unusual. This is a feat achievable only by an individual with exceptional talent in mana manipulation. The essence of your abilities, or perhaps the origin of your powers, has diminished the intensity of this Mana Signature. What puzzles me is why someone or something chose to unveil their Mana Signature in such a manner." Ifrit's tone conveyed a sense of concern for our discovery.
This unease unsettled me, if only slightly, yet I recognized that it could cloud my judgment when it was most critical.
Mason must have noticed the worry showing on my face because he quickly added, "There's no point in stressing now; we can sort things out once we kick ass!"
A chuckle escaped me and, with it, all my worries. "Sounds good to me. Let's keep going!"
I received a swift "You bet!" as we neared the source of the chaos; the surroundings transformed into a vast, open grassy field.
The eerie silence enveloping us was disconcerting; there were no signs of mana creatures or any wildlife, just the soft murmur of the river flowing beside us and an expansive stretch of vibrant green grass that seemed to go on forever. "Typically, this plain is alive with a variety of beings, both magical and mundane. They must have scattered the moment the Mana Signature was unleashed," Arnold observed as we absorbed the sweeping landscape.
Mason glanced at Arnold, his tone dripping with sarcasm: " I appreciate the insight, Arnold. We definitely couldn't have pieced that together on our—" Suddenly, a warm summer breeze swept through, causing Mason to tumble forward onto the ground, abruptly silencing his words.
"My wind spirits swiftly communicated with the nearest villages when I sensed the Mana Signature. I urged them to maintain their composure and to remain sheltered within their homes." Arnold pointed towards our right.
I turned to see the nearby town, approximately 20 miles away. The residents were actively collecting vital supplies, reinforcing their homes by boarding up windows, and hastily retreating indoors.
Mason stood up, grumbling under his breath as Arnold elaborated, "Those who are either devoid of mana or lack proficiency in its use have perished instantly outside the storm's epicenter, while those who possess the ability to withstand it are likely frozen in terror or succumbing to the biting cold."
Arnold pointed towards the dark purple mana that twisted and spiraled upward, reaching far beyond the clouds above. "The spirit I dispatched to the king has reported that alarms are blaring throughout the capital. The entire continent is now on high alert."
The sinister glow expanded, writhing and convulsing in the air, through the clouds, and across the barren earth, sending a chill down my spine. A primal instinct stirred within me, whispering that I had faced this malevolence before.
As we pressed onward, we traversed the forsaken expanse of grassland, the withered grassy blades scraping against our ankles with each hesitant step. The muck and grime erupted from the ground as we sprinted beside the river, guiding us to a vast, stagnant pond at the journey's end. The water lay eerily still, a lifeless mirror, utterly devoid of any fish that might have once dared to swim.
The mana's surge eerily twisted in a demonic manner, its tendrils lashing out in a furious dance through the air.
'It's as if they have a mind of their own, moving like the tentacles of a giant octopus.'
The idea that a colossal octopus was behind all this was truly ridiculous. If that were the case, I'd bet my entire life savings the next time I went into a casino without hesitation—if I survived.
Anything was in the air for what we would face, and a high chance of not making it out of the fight alive. The only solace I had knowing that I could be sprinting headfirst into death was the fact that I was defending my family, people who would do the same for me. For them, I would gladly die an honorable death if it let them survive another day.
That alone allowed me to push forward, giving my seemingly fearful steps meaning and purpose. I would not allow my family to be ruined again.
I shook my head violently, desperate to banish the grotesque thoughts that clawed at the edges of my sanity as I braced myself for the looming confrontation. That was the intention, at least...
With every step I took toward the shadowy figure that awaited me, a sickening wave of nausea surged through my body. It felt like a legion of writhing maggots and vile insects were burrowing beneath my flesh, compelling me to scratch until crimson droplets erupted from my skin.
The icy dread of my blood seeping from the wound, trickling down my arm, and pooling ominously on the ground was enough to send shivers down my spine. It felt inevitable that I would soon be spilling more, whether I wished it or not.
As we approached our destination, a chilling chorus of low murmurs began to seep into my mind. The whispers felt like a ghostly crowd, locked in a conversation that was just beyond the reach of comprehension.
The stark realization that no one was there to create such haunting sounds sent shivers down my spine, amplifying the dread that clawed at my insides.
They resonated with a profound sorrow. Laced with terror. Disturbed.
Each hushed murmur drained my spirit, courage, and essence. It felt like an ancient, insatiable void was devouring my life. I descended into an abyss of sorrow, stripped of any will to partake in the world around me. The once-vibrant joy that colored my existence dimmed, leaving only the haunting remnants of those sinister whispers.
As the minutes passed, the clamor of voices grew louder, pulling the crowd closer. Their emotional, inexplicable chants surged like a tempest until the weight became too much to bear, shattering my eardrums and spilling crimson life onto the ground.
I cried out to Ifrit, yearning for salvation, but only the oppressive silence answered. My last flicker of hope slipped from its hidden nook within me, casting me into an endless ocean of despair. Isolated and trapped, I felt my hearing wane while my sight blurred into a nightmarish sea of red.
I collapsed onto the cold ground, my hands frantically tearing at my face as a vile, corrosive substance seeped into my eyes, burning through my retinas and my nerves and even gnawing at my very mind. My eyes transformed into a grotesque mass; my eyelids ripped away in a gruesome display. A cacophony of screams erupted from my throat, a nightmarish blend of sheer horror and excruciating agony.
'What have I done to deserve this torment?'
Every part of me shut down, every muscle, every nerve, every sinew rendered useless. The once comforting warmth that enveloped me slowly dissipated, leaving behind a frigid void. Darkness coiled around me, its malevolent tendrils reaching out, dragging me further into the abyss, while chilling whispers invaded the remnants of my sanity.
"Join us, child."
"Become one with The Defiler."
The whispers clawed at my mind, beckoning me to "join them." Yet doubt gnawed at my sanity, for my ability to hear had long since been devoured by the abyss.
A hand emerged from the depths of the suffocating darkness, surrounded by a cacophony of tormented souls. This hand radiated an eerie, golden luminescence as if a fallen angel had descended to grant me a second chance. I grasped that spectral offering, surrendering myself to its chilling allure.
A jolt of raw energy surged through my veins, revitalizing every fiber of my being as if I had been reborn. The fabric of reality around me contorted grotesquely, then shattered into a symphony of chaos, the sound of countless mirrors splintering into oblivion.
That deafening clamor swallowed my senses, and a storm of glimmering shards engulfed me, each reflecting my horrid bodily state and reversing itself to normal.
The shards twisted and writhed, pulling me back to the canyon's precipice. The escape left me trembling on my knees, breathless, and drenched in a cold sweat as if the very essence of fear had seeped into my skin.
A wave of nausea surged from the depths of my being, and with a grotesque heave, I unleashed a torrent of putrid liquid that erupted from my throat. An unholy deluge of bile cascaded over me, drenching my skin and saturating my clothes in a foul embrace. I gasped for air, choking on the acrid stench that mingled with my blood-curdling shrieks, each scream a haunting echo of the torment I had just endured.
"Leon!" Three voices shouted at the same time.
The voices of my comrades were barely audible as my mind was on the verge of breaking from the immense anguish flowing through me.
Sensing a familiar connection and feeling the presence of my brothers, I slowly calmed down, toning down my blood-hurling screams and ragged breathing.
With my heaving turning into normal deep breaths, I lay on the grassy field and relaxed my mind and body.
After an unknown amount of time passed, Arnold gave me his hand and asked me, "What happened to you?"
Grasping his hand, I rose to my feet, only to falter slightly as I found my balance. Steadying myself, I began to make my way toward our destination. As we moved forward, I started to recount the events that had transpired, a wave of dizziness washing over me as I relived the memories of my ordeal.
After retelling what I knew, I swiped the sweat off my face.
The vast expanse of the plain was again enveloped in silence, with only the gentle rustle of the grass breaking the disturbingly quiet environment.
"Events in this world are never without purpose, Leon. A force at play, whether a person or an unseen influence, seeks to reveal something to you—something that may be beyond your current capabilities. I suggest you set it aside, focusing instead on that." Arnold points to our goal, reminding me why we were out here.
Picking up our pace once more, the scenery soon changed.
The verdant expanse of grass suddenly ceased at the edge of the canyon, a clear sign that even the natural world recoiled from the haunting, age-old domain of demons. Before long, we found ourselves standing at the towering precipice looming over Skysplitter Canyon, where the malicious mana surged like an unseen tide.
This canyon, named after a crucial assault in the Holy War, stretches for thousands of miles in either direction, dividing between the realms of humans and demons. Although we lived close to this formidable landmark, we had never dared to explore its depths. There seemed to be no reason to do so.
As we approached the canyon's precipice, an overwhelming wave of anxiety surged through me. A colossal tsunami loomed above, threatening to engulf me in an unfathomable darkness. This unsettling feeling began at the crown of my head and cascaded down to my toes, wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. Every hair on my body bristled as an intense foreboding consumed me.
It was as if an unseen presence had stealthily approached from behind, casting a shadow over me with the sinister intention of abruptly extinguishing my miserable existence. Reacting instinctually, I summoned Arondight, igniting it in fierce crimson flames. In a swift motion, I pivoted and slashed through the air behind me, ready to confront whatever threat lurked in the darkness.
It was just the three of us there, entirely alone. No one was behind me.
I turned back around, with the others following suit.
The goal we had set our sights on, the very origin of this menacing Mana Signature, lay directly in front of us. What had previously seemed like far-off tendrils were now mere inches away, thrashing wildly in the air with an almost menacing energy.
Now and then, those sinuous appendages would reach out toward me, wishing to rip me to shreds.
As the tendrils -whatever you wanted to call them- approached, the remnants of the whispers resurfaced, though they were much fainter than before. They no longer captivated me; I shook my head in annoyance, brushing them aside, leaving only the faintest echoes of the voices to send me into madness slowly.
An instinctive warning echoed as they approached, urging me to steer clear of the tentacles. The mere thought of ignoring that inner voice -my instincts- sent a chill down my spine.
Avoiding the closest tentacles, Arnold picked up his pace with a newfound urgency.
Noticing his increased pace, I thought, ' That's... probably not good.'
It felt as though the gods themselves tuned into my thoughts as Arnold suddenly stopped, gazing over the canyon's edge. His fingers twitched uncontrollably, and a shiver ran through his entire body.
Trying to hide it as best as possible, he held his trembling hand with his other in a vain attempt to calm himself.
"What's wrong with you, Arnold? It's like you saw a ghost—" Mason reached the ledge in the middle of his sentence and peered over. However, this time, his body language was pure, unhinged horror.
Seeing how these two acted, a slow tide of fear crept up my mouth, almost suffocating me in its deadly embrace. What could be over there that made his equals shiver in fear? Is it something beyond human comprehension? If so... could I even prevail in fighting it?
Mason tumbled backward with a jarring thud, landing hard on his rear before hastily pushing himself away from the scene.
"Is this for real?!? It can't be! The only dragon that exists is The Dragon Queen. This must be some low-grade illusion or a trick!" Arnold moved closer to Mason, extending a hand to pull him upright, steadying him as he regained his footing.
"Mason, we can't afford to act like fools; it's a matter of life and death! We face a danger that threatens every kingdom! If we intend to strike, we need a solid plan to ensure we either emerge victorious or deal a significant blow. Without a strategy, our odds of confronting a dragon and walking away unharmed are virtually nonexistent. I've already informed The King about our findings, so assistance should be coming. What do you think we should do, Leon?"
I glanced back into the canyon's depths, struggling to articulate the creature looming before me, my thoughts thrown into a chaotic whirlwind. Yet there was no denying it: it was a "Dragon." The thought of confronting it, let alone inflicting any damage, felt utterly futile.
Dragons were revered as some of the most powerful Mana Beasts, and their sovereigns, the Dragon King and Queen were regarded as all-powerful, all-knowing, omnipotent beings. The mere presence of one here was a dire predicament, as none of us possessed the strength to challenge it.
I turned to face my companions and said, "We need to hold our ground, Arnold. Reach out to adventurers from all the nearby Guilds. We need all available A rank and higher adventurers-" Suddenly, a bone-chilling rumble interrupted my words.
I quickly lowered my gaze to the canyon and watched as the dragon released a plume of steam from its mouth while it gradually rose to its feet. Only as it stood did my mind begin to grasp its appearance, yet even then, it hesitated to fully reveal the reality of what I was witnessing.
In the realm of Terra, dragons stood as the most feared and coveted entities, renowned for their immense power, merciless demeanor, and unparalleled ability to wreak havoc. Yet, amidst this terrifying legacy, there existed a singular exception: the dragon thought to be the final representative of its ancient lineage.
Should this not be that legendary dragon, I fear we may be on the brink of confronting the most formidable battle we have ever encountered.
By enhancing my vision to extraordinary levels and tapping into the complete potential of Ifrit's power, I started to discern the outline of the "Dragon."
The creature's physique presented a captivating fusion of black, brown, purple, and red hues embellished with strange little protuberances that appeared to sway and shift as if animated by an unseen force. As I directed my attention to these peculiar features, I discerned that they were bubbles akin to those that emerge when one blows into a glass of milk. Each bubble reflected the dragon's vivid palette, with its scales glimmering intermittently behind them, creating a mesmerizing spectacle.
Bony spikes protruded sharply along its spine, extending down to a tail that started as soft and fleshy but gradually narrowed into sharp, barbed tips at its end.
A quartet of sturdy legs, a striking blend of ebony and chestnut, adjusted to support the immense weight of its colossal form. The dragon extended its elongated, obsidian talons, which possessed the formidable power to cleave through mountains with a mere flick. Crowning its head were two grand, spiraled horns, as dark as the depths of a starless night, glimmering brilliantly in the vibrant glow of the scarlet sun.
I grasped my necklace tightly, and the tension enveloping the group surged to unprecedented heights in that instant. The dragon's eyes snapped open, locking onto my figure with an intense gaze.
"Leon, be careful!" Ifrit cautioned as the dragon exhaled a thick cloud of smoke.
The ancient beast regarded me for a brief moment before its expression transformed as if enchanted by an unseen force.
The dragon's eyes were a mesmerizing blend of dark and vibrant hues, showcasing an array of colors that seemed almost impossible for eyes to possess. They shimmered with deep blacks, muted grays, earthy browns, rich purples, fiery reds, and a spectrum of other shades that defied the natural order. Gazing into them felt akin to peering into a sorrowful kaleidoscope that had borne witness to both the rise and the tragic decline of a once-glorious era.
The dragon emitted a piercing hiss that resonated through the air, compelling me to instinctively cover my ears as a tremor coursed through my body, overwhelmed by the cacophony assaulting my senses. Mason mirrored my reaction, both of us writhing in discomfort. I could feel the warmth of blood trickling from my ears, staining my face as it dripped down.
Arnold, however, seemed to fare slightly better; he was bent over, one hand pressed against his forehead. With his other hand, he made a deliberate squeezing motion, and with that subtle gesture, the intensity of the sound and the accompanying pain diminished ever so slightly.
Although Arnold managed to ease the torment that was ravaging our bodies, the relief was painfully slow in coming. My vision blurred, and I noticed dark shapes shifting near him, inching toward the dragon, though I couldn't be sure if it were a trick of my failing eyesight.
Just then, a series of words reached my ears, dispelling my doubts and flooding me with a sudden wave of relief.
Mason, still kneeling, remarked, "It's a good thing I called upon you, isn't it... Orochi?" The shadows I had initially dismissed as illusions began to writhe and bubble beneath the dragon, catching it entirely off guard.
In an instant, the bubbling ceased, coalescing with remarkable speed before vanishing entirely. Out of the very spot where the shadows had been, Orochi the Serpent emerged.
The dragon found itself trapped in the powerful jaws of the enormous black and white serpent, propelled through the air as more of Orochi's massive form erupted from the earth. The true scale of Orochi was astonishing, stretching hundreds of feet in length as it continued to rise from the ground, ascending into the sky.
"We must keep this fight as far away from the forest as possible. Push the fight forward!" Arnold bellowed, his voice carried by the gusts of wind as he soared through the sky.
Orochi ascended alongside him, forcefully driving the dragon away from the canyon's edge. A dazzling array of colors began to emanate from Orochi's maw while the dragon desperately clawed at the sides of Orochi's mouth with its free limbs. High above the fray, Arnold readied himself for an impending strike.
"Leon, target the neck!" Ifrit shouted as I instinctively drew my right hand back. I concentrated, channeling mana into my palm, transforming into a blazing spear. With a significant infusion of mana, I hurled it with all the strength I could muster.
The relentless spear continued to pursue the formidable dragon, Orochi. Arnold skillfully commanded the winds, propelling my fiery projectile forward with a speed that rivaled lightning, soaring through the air.
Meanwhile, the dragon had managed to sink its claws into Orochi's jaws, prying them apart. A brilliant light emanated from Orochi's mouth, signaling the dragon's impending attack. Just as the luminous particles burst forth from the dragon's maw, my spear struck true. The dragon faltered, choking on its assault, leading to a violent implosion within its mouth.
A viscous substance surged forth from the dragon's shattered maw, reminiscent of a geyser erupting after being sealed for ages. This fluid served as a protective mechanism for our adversary, yet it hinted at deeper mysteries.
In an instant, the liquid that had burst forth began to withdraw, vanishing back into the creature's body. The grim reality struck me when I realized that the dragon had fully restored itself, as though our efforts had merely succeeded in irritating it rather than inflicting any real damage.
The dragon ascended into the sky, gliding gracefully through the clouds, weaving in and out of their fluffy forms as if reveling in the newfound freedom that came with its liberation from confinement. It executed impressive flips and daring maneuvers, eventually hovering above us, its wings flapping with a mix of pride and wild abandon.
Meanwhile, Orochi slipped back into Mason's protective shadow, settling beneath him like a vast silhouette, poised and alert for the next opportunity to pounce.
Arnold descended again after successfully retrieving the wind spirits he had dispatched moments earlier. "Assistance is on its way; we just need to endure until it arrives," he assured us. I drew forth Arondight, enveloping it in flames, the essence of my strength as a mage.
"Just imagine Sam's face when I share how we battled a dragon and emerged victorious. What an incredible story that would be, right?" I remarked, my body trembling slightly, a testament to my fear.
"Take a moment to breathe," Ifrit urged, his essence enveloping me like a beacon of hope amidst the shadows that surrounded us. I inhaled deeply, allowing the air to fill my lungs, and as I released it, I summoned my strength to confront our formidable adversary, a being of almost divine power.