Chapter One Hundred and Seventy-Five
With a swift command, Crow opened a swirling rift of space and sent all his gathered companions—goddesses, warriors, and jealous primordial entities—into his vast pocket dimension, leaving only one behind: Thalgrun, the ancient dwarven forge-god.
As the rift closed with a hum, the air shifted.
A shadow fell over them.
The ground trembled faintly.
Then came the sound of scales scraping through the void, a force that bent reality with its mere presence.
Primordial Dragon Xar'Zenth emerged, wings partially folded, eyes glowing with cosmic energy. The very flow of time wavered around him.
Thalgrun took one look and dropped the ancient hammer in his hands.
"By the molten core of the world…" he breathed, his dwarven accent thick with awe. "That's— That's the Endscale Wyrm… the Timeless Depth…"
He staggered back a step. "Ye actually summoned Xar'Zenth? That beast was myth when my beard was still black!"
Crow simply nodded. "He's with me now."
Thalgrun turned slowly, eyes wide and gleaming like polished obsidian. "Lad… we need to talk about what you're planning."