The prince's chamber was dark save for the wavering glow of a single candelabra. Rage twisted across his face as he stared at the parchment reports laid before him. Whispers, rumors, and subtle betrayals had eaten away at his credibility. And now his sisters were riding to Greyspire, basking in the growing tide of noble support.
Arlen stood by the window, arms folded behind his back, watching his lord's silent fury.
The prince's teeth clenched. "If they make it to Greyspire, their voices will eclipse mine. The rumors will become truth in the eyes of the people."
His fingers drummed against the table, the sound sharp in the stillness. Then his expression hardened.
"They must not arrive alive."
Arlen's gaze flickered, but he remained outwardly calm. "Your Highness… their deaths will destabilize more than it will save. Suspicion will fall upon us."
The prince's lips curled in disdain. "Suspicion is survivable. Defeat is not."
With a sharp motion, he snapped his fingers. From the shadows of the chamber, a cloaked figure emerged. The assassin moved like mist, presence barely a whisper, yet the killing intent lingered heavy.
"Two targets," the prince commanded coldly. "My sisters. Their carriage will reach Greyspire in two days. Ensure it never arrives."
The assassin bowed silently, then vanished as though swallowed by the night.
Arlen's brows furrowed slightly. So you would risk fratricide, even with eyes upon you… desperate men are the easiest to topple.
Far below, Kael's eyes glinted in the dim glow of his dungeon's core-light as he stepped into the freshly uncovered cavern. The air here was damp, thick with an energy unlike the rest of his domain.
His first surprise came swiftly—slimes. Dozens of them, transparent bodies shimmering faintly with elemental hues: water, earth, even sparks of fire. They watched him, yet did not advance.
Kael tilted his head, shadows coiling at his fingertips. "You recognize me, don't you? Dungeon master."
The slimes quivered, rippling in unison.
A smirk touched his lips. "Good. Then let's make it official."
Drawing upon his mana, Kael extended a ritual of binding—not domination, but alliance. Black runes spiraled outward, encircling the slimes. One by one, they responded, their gelatinous forms glowing as they accepted the pact. When the light faded, they pulsed like hearts in rhythm with his dungeon core.
"Useful," Kael murmured, satisfaction curling in his chest. "You'll serve well."
At the end of the cavern stood a sealed door, its surface etched with symbols dulled by time. He pressed his palm against it. Mana surged, the runes awakening, and the door shuddered open with a grinding groan.
Inside, his breath caught.
A chamber lay within, silent and ancient. At its center, resting upon a dais of stone, was an enormous egg—translucent, veins of blue light pulsing within. And beside it, half-buried in rock, lay a colossal dragon. Its body was encased in a hardened layer of stone, but faint ripples of water essence radiated from its form.
"A water dragon…" Kael whispered, eyes narrowing. "Sealed… or slumbering."
Elsewhere in the dungeon, Megalania tore greedily into the remains of the lesser wyvern. Steam hissed as molten saliva dripped from its jaws.
Then its body convulsed.
With a deep, thunderous roar, magma erupted from its scales, encasing it entirely in a cocoon of burning rock. Cracks glowed white-hot across the shell as it pulsed with terrifying energy.
The little girl gasped and rushed forward. "Megalania!"
But Pyraflame, towering and stern, extended a massive claw to stop her. His molten eyes softened slightly as he shook his head. "Not yet, little one. It is changing. Disturb it, and you may destroy it."
Tears welled in her eyes, but she nodded reluctantly, clutching Pyraflame's claw for comfort.
Back in the sealed chamber, Kael circled the egg and the slumbering dragon, his mind already racing with possibilities.
Another titan-class waiting to be awakened.
He touched the egg, feeling the faint thrum of life within.
"This dungeon," he murmured, "is only beginning to reveal its secrets."
Beyond Greyspire, deep in the wooded stretches along the trade road, shadows moved with deliberate precision. The assassin had already chosen the site: a narrow stretch where the carriage would have no room to maneuver, hemmed in by cliffs on one side and a ravine on the other.
Trip-lines and glyph triggers had been laid in silence. Archers crouched in hidden nooks, bladesmen concealed beneath branches. The assassin himself lingered at the heart of the trap, calm and patient.
A black feather was dropped upon the ground—his signal of readiness.
"When their carriage reaches this pass," the assassin whispered into the night air, "it will never leave."
The trap was set. Now they waited for the royal sisters' arrival.
Far below, in the hidden chamber, Kael studied the immense water dragon's petrified body. Its scales were dulled, its aura fractured, and the egg beside it pulsed faintly—as though drawing on the last vestiges of the dragon's strength.
He extended his necromancer's perception, peeling back layers of the dragon's condition. His eyes narrowed.
"…It's not natural slumber. It's sick."
The mana currents within its body were unstable, choked by something foreign. He followed the threads deeper—traces of poisoned mana, filth woven into its veins.
"Contaminated water essence," he murmured grimly. "Something has been bleeding into its domain for years."
Kael summoned with a flick of his hand.
First came Aquara, the water sovereign, her form glimmering like liquid crystal. She bowed her head, sensing the ailing kin before her. Without a word, her domain spread, saturating the chamber in pristine waves of flowing light.
Then he called forth Luminara, radiant in her pale glow, her healing aura warm like dawnlight. She hovered near the dragon's snout, placing her palms against its petrified hide. Golden light sank into the cracks, chasing away the shadows clinging to its spirit.
Aquara's voice was steady, but tinged with sadness. "She has suffered long. The taint has nearly hollowed her."
Kael folded his arms, gaze sharp. "But not beyond saving. Do it."
The chamber filled with resonance. Aquara's healing rings spun outward, spirals of liquid purity pressing against the dragon's hardened scales. The stone groaned as fractures split, flaking away to reveal flesh beneath—pale blue, faint but alive.
Luminara's glow wove with Aquara's flow, threads of light knitting what corruption had torn.
Kael stood still, yet the tension in his chest grew. Another titan-class… sealed, poisoned, and left to rot. Who would go to such lengths to suppress this power?
Then, with a thunderous crack, the stone cocoon shattered.
The dragon's body shifted, her massive chest rising with a ragged breath. A deep, mournful rumble reverberated through the chamber, dust raining from the ceiling.
Slowly—hesitantly—her eyes opened. Vast, ocean-blue irises glowed faintly, locking upon Kael with a weary, questioning gaze.
Kael allowed himself the faintest smile. "Welcome back, Ancient One."
The water stirred around her, rippling in harmony with her breath. The egg beside her pulsed brighter, as though celebrating her awakening.
And Kael knew: this was no ordinary find. This was another cornerstone of the power he would forge.
The water dragon's eyes flickered, hazy at first, then sharp with realization. A low, resonant growl filled the chamber, not of hostility but of ancient weight, as though the voice of rivers themselves had awoken.
"You… freed me," the dragon rumbled, its voice echoing directly into Kael's mind. "For centuries, the poison gnawed at my veins. I had long abandoned hope."
Kael met its gaze without flinching. "I need no gratitude. But I do require strength. Will you lend it?"
The dragon bowed its massive head, water condensing into mist that haloed the chamber. "To the one who carries the Abyss' mark and yet restores life rather than devour it… I yield. Let our bonds entwine."
The air pulsed. Threads of mana wrapped between Kael and the dragon, coiling into a contract sigil that burned upon his hand.
[ Contract Formed: Ancient Water Dragon (Titan-Class) ]
[ Stat Boost Acquired: ]
Strength +2,000
Endurance +3,500
Intelligence +4,000
Spirit +6,000
A surge thundered through Kael's body, his veins igniting with tidal energy. The Abyss Dragon's darkness and the Water Dragon's purity fused uneasily but harmoniously within him, creating a resonance that made his summons stir even from afar.
Aquara and Luminara glowed with newfound brilliance as streams of energy washed over them.
[ Blessing of the Tide obtained ]
Aquara's domain now spreads twice as far, purifying corruption at its source.
Luminara's healing restores vitality even to broken mana pathways.
Both sovereigns knelt, trembling with awe at the gift.
Kael clenched his fist, testing the rush of strength. His lips curved faintly. Good. Another piece has fallen into place.
The water dragon lowered its head once more. "You are no ordinary master of the dead. You are… a Sovereign among Sovereigns."
Before Kael could answer, a shadow trembled within his vision—Umbra's whisper threading through the telepathic link.
"Master… movement detected."
Kael's eyes sharpened. The image flared before him: cloaked figures moving silently along a mountain pass, glyphs hidden in stone, blades glinting in the faint moonlight. An ambush was being woven.
His heart tightened as he recognized the route. It was the same road that wound past his homeland—the road that led dangerously close to his village.
"Assassins…" Kael muttered, his voice low. His gaze turned icy. "They think they can hunt beneath my shadow?"
The dragon tilted its head. "Do you wish me to strike them down?"
Kael shook his head, summoning Pyraflame into the chamber with a flare of heat. He swung onto the beast's back, his cloak snapping around him. "No. This one, I'll handle personally."
His voice was cold as steel as he gave the command:
"Let's remind them who rules these lands."
Pyraflame's wings unfurled with a roar, the chamber trembling as Kael shot into the night sky—toward the assassins who had dared tread near what was his.