When they reached their destination—the planet Zatrix—the ship descended gently onto a landing platform. About a hundred meters away, the Celestial Palace rose imposingly, visible even through the glow of the setting sun.
They disembarked and headed straight for the palace. As they walked, beyond a strong electrified fence, the different races that inhabited the planet cheered the names Arkhos and Elaethe.
On Zatrix four main races coexisted in relative harmony:
Gods and Demigods. Celestial beings of immense power tasked with maintaining the planet's balance.
Nimkru. Rocklike creatures that grow with the centuries. The older they are, the larger and stronger they become. They possess tremendous strength and near-absolute resilience. They were created by the first god to inhabit this world: Munack, Arkhos's father.
Velmorians. Animal-like beings, imposing and up to two meters tall. Incredibly fast and physically hardy, their intelligence evolved over the centuries, turning them into excellent strategists and loyal servants of Elaethe, who created them.
Trinaries. Human-like in appearance but marked from birth by dark lines that run across their bodies. The more lines a Trinary has, the greater their power. They have red eyes that allow perfect vision in darkness and excel in close combat. Their creator is unknown, but their leader is as powerful as a demigod.
After the welcoming ceremony and once inside the palace, Arkhos resumed his conversation with his son.
"I think the time has come for you to begin training more seriously," Arkhos said, his voice firm.
Draygon smiled eagerly. He had waited a long time to hear those words. Since childhood he'd dreamed of becoming stronger, and after seeing the Greater Gods with his own eyes, that desire had only grown.
"So… you'll train me?" he asked, eyes shining.
Arkhos shook his head slowly. "I would love to, son… but you're not ready yet. Training with me now wouldn't help you. The gap between us is too wide." He placed a hand on Draygon's shoulder and added, "However, I've found the perfect person for you. Someone with whom you'll begin your journey. Once you surpass them, you'll face progressively stronger opponents. If you work hard… sooner or later you'll be ready to train with me personally."
The young god lowered his gaze, a hint of disappointment crossing his face. He recovered quickly—he understood his father's words. If he wanted to reach Arkhos's level, he would have to earn it.
"Alright," he said, clenching his fists. "I'll hurry. I'll grow stronger as fast as I can. I'll make you proud."
Arkhos smiled, satisfied.
Draygon looked up at the palace's heights. His goal was clear: surpass his father and become the most powerful god. He knew he wasn't the only one with that ambition—many offspring of Greater Gods wanted the same—but he was willing to do whatever it took. He wouldn't be left behind.
A couple of hours later, Arkhos summoned his son to the palace gates.
"Young Draygon, your father awaits you outside," announced a young maid with a slight bow.
"Thank you, Angela. I'll go at once," he replied with a smile.
A few minutes later he reached the palace exterior and stopped when he saw his father standing beside an imposing rocky figure. It was a Nimkru, one of the planet's strongest and most resilient races. Intimidating in presence, his body looked carved from living stone.
"Alright, son," Arkhos said. "This Nimkru will be your first rival. He's strong—one of the best of his kind. When you defeat him, I'll call the most powerful of them… though you're not ready to face him yet."
The Nimkru stepped forward and looked down into Draygon's eyes. He was at least three meters tall, his presence commanding.
"It is an honor, young Draygon. It will be my pleasure to help you grow stronger. My name is Butser," he said in a deep, solemn voice.
The young god held the colossus's gaze without flinching. He took a step forward and answered, "Thank you, Butser. I'll do my best."
"Follow me. I will take you to the place where you will train," Arkhos said as he passed them.
Inside the palace, Arkhos led them to the great main hall. Effortlessly he moved a massive banquet table aside and rolled back the enormous rug that covered the center of the room. Revealed beneath it was a dark metal hatch embedded in the floor.
"I didn't know we had something like this under the hall," Draygon said, surprised.
"It's a secret only a few know," Arkhos replied. "Down here we keep things that must not be loose in our universe."
A slight pressure filled Draygon's chest as he grasped the weight of the secret.
"But don't worry," his father added. "Everything is well protected. This hatch is made of an almost unbreakable metal, and the floor around it is reinforced with the same material. Very few things could penetrate it."
"That puts me at ease," Draygon said, nodding.
With a simple snap of his fingers, a purple gem materialized in Arkhos's hand. He crouched and inserted it into a perfectly carved slot on the hatch. At that instant, the hatch opened with a soft metallic hum.
"Of course—without this gem it cannot be opened," Arkhos explained.
Draygon and Butser watched attentively. The young god couldn't hide his astonishment; on the stoic face of the stone giant, only a faint glimmer in his eyes betrayed mild surprise.
Arkhos began descending the stairs, lighting the path with his flame-wreathed hand, a casual display of the power he wielded. His son and Butser followed slowly, alert to each step as they made their way down into the deep, mysterious chamber.
When they reached the bottom, Draygon stared in amazement. The space was far larger than he'd imagined—like a second palace hidden beneath the first.
The dark metallic walls, the same tone as the hatch, gave the place a solemn, ancient feel. Lined throughout the hall were countless objects and weapons encased in transparent crystal, as if they were treasures too powerful to display openly.
One item in particular caught the young god's eye. He approached, mesmerized, until he stood before an imposing spear—sharp and radiant—forged from a golden metal that seemed to drink in light and return it magnified. The blade was majestic, with curved edges and symmetrical runes reminiscent of ancient sacred scripts, as if sculpted by divine hands.
The shaft, dark and sturdy, looked to be made of the same material as the surrounding walls. It wasn't just a weapon: it was a symbol of lineage, inheritance… and power. A spear worthy of a god.
The God of Order approached his son, who watched the magnificent spear in a daze.
"That spear was created by your grandfather, the god Munack," Arkhos said solemnly. "Like much of this place. A great part of what you see below was forged by him or taken in battle."
"It's incredible… When I saw it, I felt something special," Draygon confessed without taking his eyes off it.
"I'm not surprised," his father replied. "Not only did he create it— it was his first weapon in combat. He learned to forge arms from a young age. He always said he didn't trust wielding a weapon forged by another."
"Grandfather must have been truly powerful."
"He was—very much so," Arkhos said proudly. "And since you liked the spear so much… it will be yours once you defeat the demigod Freith in combat. He will be your third rival. When you beat him, the spear will belong to you. Fair?"
"Really? If I defeat Freith you'll give me the spear?" Draygon asked, eyes shining with excitement.
"Of course, son. But remember, Freith is the strongest demigod on our planet. It won't be easy… and it won't be soon."
"I'll give everything I have to make it happen as soon as possible, father! Thank you so much!"