Villain POV
They called him a dragon.
They were wrong.
Dragons were majestic. Ancient. Wise.
He was something far older than dignity.
He stood atop a cliff of black glass overlooking a forest that had never seen sunlight. Shadows did not fall here—they lived. They breathed along the ground like mist, curling around his boots, climbing his legs as if worshipping him.
Because they did.
Because they knew him.
The blessing on his chest pulsed.
A sigil burned beneath his skin—jagged, living, shaped like a crown made of thorns.
The mark of the God of Darkness.
He smiled faintly.
Not wide. Not cruel.
Just certain.
---
They once feared him.
Now they whispered about him.
Madman.
Executioner.
God-hunter.
He preferred a simpler title.
Judge.
Because that was what he truly was.
If a god chose someone, it meant that mortal carried power they didn't deserve. Luck they didn't earn. Favor they hadn't fought for.
He corrected that imbalance.
By killing them.
---
Behind him, chained to obsidian pillars, several robed figures trembled. Scholars. Informants. Survivors of raids his followers had conducted across kingdoms. Their hands shook as they unrolled maps and scrolls across the stone altar before him.
One dared speak.
"M-my lord… we confirmed the rumor."
Golden slit pupils shifted toward him.
The man almost fainted.
"The… the dungeon that produced the elixir… it was sealed by divine law. Only someone blessed by a god could enter it."
Silence.
Wind hissed through the cliffs.
"And?" the dragon asked softly.
"T-Two entered it."
The shadows around him stirred.
"One is confirmed," the man continued hurriedly. "The hero crowned prince. Ark."
The name tasted dull in the dragon's mind.
Not fearsome.
Not yet.
"And the other?" he asked.
The scholar swallowed.
"That's… unclear. Records conflict. Some say a nameless commoner. Others say a wandering mage. A few reports claim the dungeon opened before the hero arrived."
The dragon's gaze sharpened.
"Describe this… commoner."
The man shuffled parchments.
"Silver-haired… occasionally. Or dark-haired. Reports vary. But one thing is consistent—"
He hesitated.
"Speak."
"He survived things no ordinary human should."
A pause.
"And," the scholar whispered, "he was seen leaving the dungeon carrying the elixir… before the prince ever reached it."
Silence fell.
The shadows stopped moving.
Even the wind held its breath.
---
The dragon laughed.
Not loudly.
Not wildly.
Softly.
Delighted.
"…So there is another."
His fingers lifted slightly. Darkness gathered at his palm like obedient smoke.
"A hidden chosen," he murmured. "One the world hasn't noticed yet."
His eyes gleamed.
"Good."
---
He turned toward the horizon.
Far away, beyond mountains and borders and kingdoms—
a nation glittered beneath moonlight.
"The crowned prince," he said, voice thoughtful. "I've heard the songs. The crowds adore him. They say he's the strongest of his generation."
He tilted his head.
"I wonder."
The air around him distorted.
Shadow flames flickered along his shoulders like wings trying to form.
"Is he strong because he's worthy?" he mused.
"Or strong because a god handed it to him?"
A slow smile.
"I'll find out."
---
He stepped down from the cliff.
The ground froze black where his foot touched.
Behind him, his followers dropped to their knees.
"My lord," one whispered, trembling, "shall we prepare the army?"
"No."
His answer came instantly.
"I don't need armies to test prey."
He looked back once.
"Prepare travel rites. Silent ones. I leave before dawn."
"Yes, Lord Noctryx."
The name echoed like thunder swallowed by night.
---
As they scrambled to obey, Noctryx closed his eyes.
Through the darkness blessing, he could feel them.
Faint.
Distant.
Two divine signatures.
One blazing like a torch.
One hidden like a star behind clouds.
His lips parted slightly.
"…Ark," he murmured.
Then softer—
"…and you."
The unknown one.
The dungeon walker.
The elixir bearer.
The unseen chosen.
---
His eyes opened.
Cold.
Hungry.
"Let's see," he whispered, stepping into a portal of living shadow, "which of you is worth killing first."
The darkness swallowed him whole.
And the night grew heavier.