Archdragon Peak… A place spoken of in reverent tones, where the heavens and the earth meet, and dragons once ruled supreme. The air was thin, crisp with the tang of ancient power, and yet it felt… hollow. Whatever grandeur this place had once held, it had long since faded, leaving behind only echoes and dust.
I arrived at the peak not in search of glory, but curiosity. The ruins were bathed in golden light, the stone stairways winding endlessly upward, guarded by statues of dragons that had long since turned to stone. Their majesty was impressive, but I could see the cracks—both literal and metaphorical. This was no haven of the mighty. It was a graveyard.
The first to meet me was the Dragon Slayer Armor. A towering, imposing figure, its movements heavy with purpose. A relic of an era when men sought to rival dragons, wielding their weapons and their pride. It stood in my path, silent and unyielding, the light glinting off its tarnished plating.
‘A guardian with no master,’ I mused, raising my staff. It charged, halberd swinging in wide arcs, its strikes shaking the very ground. But it was slow. Predictable. My Mind Corruption spell coiled around it like a serpent, seeping into the cracks of its armor. It staggered, then fell to its knees. A final Soul Eruption shattered its form, leaving nothing but a hollow shell behind.
‘You should’ve stayed in your slumber,’ I muttered, stepping over the remains without a backward glance.
Further up the peak, the air grew thinner, the wind biting and sharp. And there he stood—Faraam, The First Born of Gwyn, a legend of lightning and strength. His presence alone could have once inspired armies, his great spear crackling with golden electricity.
He turned to face me, his gaze heavy with the weight of his heritage. ‘Another who seeks to claim the skies?’ he asked, his voice low and weathered.
‘No,’ I replied. ‘Just passing through.’
He laughed, a deep, resonant sound. ‘Then you shall not pass.’
His speed was impressive, I’ll grant him that. He moved like lightning, striking with precision and power. But power alone is meaningless when faced with experience. His spear missed by inches as I sidestepped and unleashed Swarm of Dregs. The shadows clung to him, slowing his movements, leaving him open for the next attack.
With a flick of my staff, I conjured a Dark Flame Cascade, and his proud form crumbled under its weight. He knelt before me, his spear falling from his grasp.
‘You are… strong,’ he said, his voice fading.
‘No,’ I corrected. ‘I am inevitable.’
With that, he collapsed, his body dissolving into ash, leaving behind only his soul—a fragment of his once-great power, now mine to command.
As I stood at the summit, the wind howling around me, I looked out over the expanse of Archdragon Peak. It was beautiful, in a way—majestic even. But it held nothing for me. Its guardians had fallen, its secrets laid bare.
‘This place belongs to the past,’ I murmured, turning away from the view. ‘And I? I belong to the future.’
With that, I descended the peak, its echoes fading behind me as I moved forward, ever forward. There are greater battles to fight, greater enemies to conquer. Archdragon Peak was nothing more than a brief detour—a shadow on the path to my ultimate goal.
