Chapter 325: Leaving Quietly (Part 2)

Chapter 325: Chapter 325: Leaving Quietly (Part 2)

Chapter 325: Leaving Quietly (Part 2)

"I do not need to know where he is," Reina said, her voice dropping into a sincere, quiet register. "I just need you to tell me that someone knows. Tell me he is not completely untethered out there."

Estella felt her defensive posture melt away. She offered a small, grateful smile.

"I know exactly where he is, Reina," Estella promised. "He is tethered."

Reina nodded slowly.

"Good," Reina said dryly. "Because if he dies out there and misses my turn for a Legacy, I will revive him myself just to kill him again."

Far beyond the safety of the Great Wall, the air grew incredibly thin.

Draven rode high above the toxic Miasma. The red fog stretched endlessly below them, entirely obscuring the ruined cities and shattered highways of the Old World. They flew above the fog line, where the air was freezing and thin.

FLAP.

FLAP.

Astraxion beat his massive, leathery wings. The Void Dragon had grown exponentially since hatching. He was now the size of a heavy Vanguard transport vehicle. His neon-purple scales caught the harsh, unfiltered sunlight. His glowing neon-purple eyes scanned the horizon with predatory focus.

Draven sat securely between the jagged spikes on the dragon’s broad back.

He looked over his shoulder. The blue, pulsing light of the Miasma Clearing Towers was rapidly fading in the distance. The safe zone generated by the massive structures was officially behind him. He was completely isolated in the deadliest airspace on the planet.

PURRRR.

Astraxion let out a deep, vibrating purr that rumbled right through Draven’s boots. The dragon seemed entirely unbothered by the isolation. To a creature born of the void, the treacherous sky was simply a playground.

Draven looked forward. The jagged, black peaks of the northern mountain range finally pierced through the red fog. The tomb was waiting.

Draven patted the thick scales on Astraxion’s neck.

"Bring us down," Draven commanded.

CHIRP.

The massive dragon let out a sharp, bird-like chirp. Astraxion folded his leathery wings and dove in a steep, terrifying spiral. They landed heavily on a narrow, rocky plateau jutting out from the side of the highest peak. The red fog swirled hungrily just a few hundred feet below them.

Draven slid off the dragon’s back. He reached into his dark coat and pulled out a small piece of parchment and a graphite stylus.

He had made a promise. One line a day.

He leaned against a frozen boulder and wrote a single, brief sentence.

The air is freezing, and your dragon snores loudly while flying.

He folded the parchment and tied it securely to a small leather harness wrapped around Astraxion’s leg.

"Take it to Estella," Draven instructed.

Astraxion chirped happily. The dragon launched himself off the cliff, vanishing into the clouds like a purple comet.

Hours later, in the quiet safety of the Apex Villa, Estella stood on the balcony. A heavy gust of wind announced the dragon’s arrival. Astraxion shrank to the size of a large house cat in mid-glide and landed gracefully on the railing, immediately demanding head scratches.

Estella untied the parchment. She read the dry, heavily understated sentence. A wide, genuine smile broke across her face.

She pulled a pen from her pocket and wrote directly beneath his handwriting.

The dragon is flawless, and you forgot to pack your heavy scarf.

She tied the note back onto the harness. Astraxion purred, chewed briefly on a metal chair leg, and launched himself back into the sky.

Draven walked alone up the treacherous, winding path.

The air grew steadily colder. The jagged rocks were coated in a thick layer of gray frost. The silence was total. There were no mutated wolves howling in the distance. There were no birds. The mountain felt entirely disconnected from the rest of the violent world.

He rounded a sharp bend in the cliff face and stopped.

The path opened into a wide, flat stone courtyard carved directly into the side of the peak.

Draven narrowed his pitch-black eyes. The physics of the space were fundamentally wrong.

He took a slow step forward. The air itself felt dense, like walking through deep water. He looked closely at the environment. A small cluster of loose pebbles had fallen from the cliff above.

The pebbles were not resting on the ground. They were suspended mid-air, perfectly frozen in their downward trajectory.

Draven looked at the dust kicked up by his own boots. The gray particles did not settle back down to the stone. They hung motionless in the air, glittering faintly in the dim light.

’Time is still,’ Draven realized, his heartbeat slowing to match the eerie calm of the courtyard.

The red Miasma fog below them did not dare to rise up this high. It was not repelled by a tower. It was repelled by a localized stasis field of staggering, ancient power. The tomb was not just hiding a Legacy. It was preserving a singular moment in history, locking it away from the decay of the outside world.

Draven walked through the frozen dust motes. He approached the far end of the courtyard.

Carved directly into the sheer face of the mountain was a massive, seamless stone door. It was easily forty feet tall. The surface was entirely covered in glowing, intricate geometric runes that pulsed with a faint, silver light.

There was no keyhole. There was no handle.

Draven stepped up to the smooth stone. He raised his right hand and placed his bare palm flat against the ancient carvings.

[Vector Manipulation]

He did not attempt to force the door open. He simply extended his senses, feeling for the internal mechanics of the stone.

The response was instantaneous and deeply jarring. The kinetic energy inside the door was exactly zero. The atoms themselves were entirely motionless.

As his unique mana interacted with the stasis field, the glowing silver runes suddenly shifted. The chaotic, alien geometry reorganized itself beneath his palm. The ancient language translated itself directly into his mind.

Only the architect of motion may pass.

Draven pulled his hand back. The carved door began to emit a low, grinding rumble that shook the frozen dust in the air. The trial for the Warlord Legacy was officially open.