"We need to talk," she stated, her tone laced with urgency.
Darian stood frozen, bewildered by her presence. Words eluded him. He simply stared at the silver-haired beauty standing before him, her piercing gaze cutting through the growing shadows of the room.
The sun dipped below the horizon, and the tension in the air became suffocating. Darian's mind raced with questions—Why is she here? Who is she?—but his tongue felt heavy, his thoughts too jumbled to form coherent words.
"What... what are you doing here?" he finally managed to ask, his voice cracking under the weight of confusion.
"It's a long story," she replied, a soft smile gracing her lips. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, her calm demeanor in stark contrast to the chaos swirling in Darian's mind.
He hesitated before joining her, the silence between them stretching on until it became unbearable. Finally, he broke it.
"So... who are you?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity and apprehension.
The woman straightened her posture, her expression neutral. "I am your servant."
Darian blinked in confusion. "Servant? What are you talking about?"
Before she could answer, a faint chime echoed in Darian's mind, followed by a glowing prompt that appeared before his eyes:
[Descendant Located]
[Advice! Make First Contact]
His heart skipped a beat as realization dawned. He looked at her, his voice trembling. "You're a Descendant, aren't you?"
"Yes," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
Darian's confusion only deepened. He'd suspected there was something unusual about her—her silver hair, the tiny horns protruding from her head, the faint scales that shimmered under the dim light, mirroring his own. But now, he needed answers.
"What does that mean?" he asked, his voice rising with frustration.
Zara tilted her head, as if his ignorance puzzled her. "You don't remember, do you?"
"Remember what?"
She sighed, a flicker of something—sadness, perhaps—crossing her features. "I suppose it's to be expected. This is the seventh time, after all."
"The seventh time?" he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. "What are you talking about?"
"I'll explain everything," she said, her voice firm. "But you need to listen carefully."
Darian nodded, his full attention now on her.
"I am a Descendant, as I said. And you are my master," she began, her voice steady and deliberate. "In your past life, we Descendants served you with unwavering loyalty. But since you have been reborn, you wouldn't remember."
Darian's mind reeled. "Master? Past life? What does any of this mean?"
"You are the Imperial Sovereign," she said, her gaze unwavering. "A Primordial Dragon who once ruled the cosmos. Your powers—those you've started to notice—are a fragment of what you once wielded. And I am here to help you reclaim them."
Darian's breath hitched. "A... dragon?"
"Yes," Zara confirmed, her voice tinged with reverence. "Over ten thousand years ago, you were the mightiest of all beings, a force that even the gods feared. You soared through the cosmos, conquering worlds and uniting realms. But your life ended in a battle—a war that shook the very fabric of existence."
The weight of her words pressed down on him. A dragon? A war? Ten thousand years? It sounded like a story from a fantasy novel, yet something deep within him stirred, as if her words awakened a long-buried truth.
"What happened in this war?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Her expression darkened. "The Great War was fought in the Infinite Space, a realm beyond time and reality. You led us—the Descendants—against the First Beings, whom your kind knows as gods. The battle was cataclysmic. Entire worlds were consumed, stars extinguished, dimensions shattered. In the end, we triumphed, but at a terrible cost."
She paused, her gaze distant. "You fell in that battle. But before your final breath, you swore to return. You told us to wait, to find you when you were reborn. And so we waited, master."
Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.
Darian struggled to process it all. A dragon. A war. Gods and dimensions. And now this woman—Zara—claimed to be one of his loyal servants? It was too much. Yet, a part of him couldn't dismiss her story.
"So... you're a dragon too?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
"Yes," she said. "A Dragon Queen, one of the seven who followed you into the war."
"Seven?" he repeated, his brow furrowing.
Zara nodded. "We are scattered across the cosmos, awaiting your awakening. Each of us carries a fragment of your legacy."
Darian's mind raced. Seven Dragon Queens, all loyal to him? It sounded like the setup for a harem novel, but he quickly pushed the thought aside.
"And I'm the seventh reincarnation of this... Imperial Sovereign?" he asked.
"Yes," she said simply.
He exhaled sharply, his gaze dropping to his hands. The scales, the claws—they all made sense now. But there was one question that burned in his mind.
"These powers I have," he began, "they awakened in a dungeon. Are the dungeons on this world connected to my past?"
Zara hesitated, her expression unreadable. "Yes," she finally said. "The dungeons are remnants of the war. When the battle in the Infinite Space reached its peak, it tore rifts across the cosmos. These rifts led to countless realms, each filled with creatures and artifacts of immense power. The dungeons you see are the scars of that war."
Her words sent a chill down his spine. The dungeons weren't just random phenomena—they were a direct result of his past.
"So the monsters... the chaos... it's all because of me?" he asked, his voice heavy with guilt.
"Not because of you," Zara corrected. "Because of the war. A war fought to protect the cosmos from annihilation."
Darian sat back, his mind reeling. His powers, his connection to the dungeons, the very fabric of his existence—it was all tied to a legacy far greater than he could have imagined.
"Master," Zara said, her tone softening.
He looked at her, still uncomfortable with the title.
"Have you tamed your first beast yet?"
"Yes," he replied, recalling the spectral dragon he had encountered in the dungeon.
"Good," she said with a nod. "Your bond with the beasts will be crucial in reclaiming your full power."
Darian frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Your connection to the beasts is a reflection of your past self," Zara explained. "As the Imperial Sovereign, you commanded legions of dragons and creatures across the cosmos. Taming them now is the first step toward regaining your throne."
He let her words sink in, the weight of his destiny pressing down on him.
"And the other six Dragon Queens?" he asked.
"They are waiting," Zara said. "Some may have already sensed your awakening. But not all will come willingly. The war changed us all."
Darian nodded slowly, a newfound determination igniting within him. He didn't fully understand his powers or his past, but one thing was clear: his journey was far from over.
As the night deepened, Darian felt a shift within himself. The world he had once known was gone, replaced by a destiny far greater—and far more dangerous—than he could have ever imagined.
And this was only the beginning.