River of Flame

Ikris flew through the sky, fighting dragons. As a child, he had always loved hearing stories about them. The sect had a large library with stories and histories of the old worlds recorded there, drake stories mostly. He still remembered the first time he was read a story about dragons. Many on the drake homeworld had believed that they were descended from mythological beings that matched the descriptions of dragons. When they came to the Infinite Realm and found real dragons, ones that were monsters that only wanted to kill, that was when most abandoned that belief. But Ikris always believed that there was more to it all. After all, drakes weren’t the only race that had stories about dragons.

These dragon monsters were large and powerful, four legs and four wings with scales shaded in different colors, black and orange for most, but there were exceptions. Not a type that he was familiar with, but then dragons were as varied as any other race in the world. Yet, there were few of them that stood at the top. He had heard stories about them, the dragons that were greater than others. That could talk and were too powerful for any one person to fight. The Dragon’s Peak had once been a dungeon, the home to one monster only, Garragor—Lord of Dread Decay. He remembered stories of how he was defeated, how Ikris’s uncle led the charge with an army of tens of thousands. They lost too many, even immortals who died a true death, but they had won, and secured the future of their sect. Not all had survived unscathed, though, Ikris’s other uncle had his scales so damaged that nothing could heal them, forcing him to change his entire Path and rid himself of them. It was what had pushed him into alchemy.

Ikris beat his wings and swooped down on one of the dragons breathing fire at an airship, burning through its hull as the crew threw techniques back at it, trying to force it away unsuccessfully. He came in fast, fire from dragons attempting to catch him bathing his armor and scales, doing nothing but making him feel warmer. He swung his great halberd and triggered its power. The masterwork weapon grew in an instant, so much that he could barely hold it. His will infused it with Of Great Might and Metal Power, the weapon glowed with eerie green light and he struck. His blade hit the dragon just below its neck and bit through its scales like they were made out of paper. His strike continued until he cut away a chunk of its torso along with its head, separating it from the body. Fire burst out of the hole where the neck used to be then the two pieces of the dragon started falling.

He looked around, saw his wife Hiandrin flying in her evolved form, the great Coatl with metal scales. She wrapped herself around a dragon and crushed it with her body then lashed out at another chomping its wings off.

There was so much going around all around them, the dragons were attacking the airships and the flying warriors of the sect. He saw a karura get burned and its scorched corpse tumble down toward the city. A wave of firepower was coming from below them, lashing out at the dragons that dared come close enough.

There were thousands of them, and each was stronger than the ten average sect warriors. Only Ikris and Hiandrin could hold them off, kill them so easily. But they were all used to that, it was how sects fought. They raised powerful individuals, they didn’t have generals that could boost entire armies, didn’t have the discipline or the tactics, just power.

A white and red dragon roared making Ikris’s muscles seize up. His techniques halted for a split moment, enough for his enforcement of his body to lessen. The dragon smashed into him, piercing through his armor and chest with one of its horns. He grimaced as it pushed him through the air, his halberd slipping from his fingers. He groaned and then activated his evolved form.

He grew, his body and armor increasing in size until he was three times his original size. His scales toughened and his stats soared. He grabbed the dragon that was still piercing his body with its horn, but was now barely hurting him at all. He squeezed its neck, crushing it, then he threw the dead dragon aside.

He put his hand out and used one of his rings which was paired with his weapon. The halberd stopped its fall, then it flew up, magnetically pulled to his hand. The large weapon now fit in his hands perfectly, and he flew, striking at the monsters around him.

He used his enforcing technique again, {Scales As Dread Metal} and felt his body harden. Then he used his second one {Might Of The Deep Metal} to increase his stats again. Two techniques were his limit, but that only concerned techniques formed inside of his body. He pulled at the Essence around him, the Air and the Wind, as it moved toward him, toward his core, he forced his will on it. A dragon was coming at him from the side, and he shaped a technique in the air, a pattern of movement that unleashed his second Path’s base technique. The {Flowing Blast} erupted, wind hitting the dragon’s wings and staggering it for just a split second. The technique was nowhere near powerful enough to do anything, but it was enough. He beat his wings and then swiped with his halberd, skills enforcing his attack. He cut a gash into the dragon’s side as it tried to evade, and then pressed in, stabbing it through the chest.

He kicked it off his weapon and looked around. An airship, one of their war vessels, had its hull ripped open, claw marks clearly visible. It was falling down, smoke escaping from the gap in the hull and orange flames could be seen through the windows in the all metal ship. He saw a group of sect warriors attacking a dragon, two karura stabbed it with their long-hooked halberds, pulling on its wings as a drake unleashed a hail of crystal shards at its face. Two more drakes were flying around it, stabbing long lances wrought in a fire in its side. Two more dragons swooped in and attacked before anyone could react.

A dragon chomped down on a karura as he flew by, and slapped the other out of the air with his tail. A wave of fire hit the drakes, burning them to a crisp.

He looked at the city below, in the distance was the breached wall, the rubble of buildings that had been torn down. The other wall was lit up with battle, both on the wall and above it. Monsters riding other monsters fighting airships and flying warriors. Never in his entire life had he seen a picture like that. Never had their city been attacked with an army, never had the walls been breached. This was…

A roar drowned all sound of battle and Ikris turned to see an orange glow rise from the clouds beneath the mountain. Fire exploded as a giant shape flew out of the clouds. A dragon, greater than all the others around them, larger with red scales and orange eyes. It was larger than his Evolved form, larger than Hiandrin’s, than the airships around them. It crashed through a warship, the metal hull cracking under the hit from its head. It opened its mouth and fire filled the air, engulfing airships and warriors. This was clearly one of the Great Forgotten that the even mentioned.

Ikris beat his wings, his will wrapping around his weapon, Hiandring followed after him. The dragon noticed them, it opened its mouth and blew more fire.

—Deep Core’s Toughness—

His ideal spread out of him, infusing him.

—Will of Metal—

Hiandrin’s followed close behind.

They flew through the flames and straight at the monster attacking their city. He swiped his blade and hit the monster’s head. He felt the scales crack, but they held. The monster roared and swiped with claws that Ikris evaded. Hiandrin slammed into the dragon from the side, trying to wrap herself around its neck. A moment later she screamed, and the red scales of the dragon turned brighter as if they were getting hotter.

She flew away, her metal scales bright as well, the heat probably scorching her skin. Ikris shaped four techniques in the air, sending blows of wind against the dragon that did nothing.

“IT IS FUTILE LITTLE CHOSEN,” the dragon rumbled, its voice carrying across the sky. “I AM THE FLAMING HEART OF A DEAD PEOPLE, MY FLAMES KNOW NO EQUAL.”

Ikris ignored it and prepared his next attack. His Aspect Manifestation fell around him, shrouding him in a cloak made out of Dread Metal Qi, the Qi that had once, long ago been a mighty dragon’s bones.

*  *  *

The world returned to him slowly, as the transformation of his core, of his body. The new perk did its work, and he felt his aspect change, what was once a joining of two aspects, imperfect, became something more. A physical and conceptual union. Once, they had been the Aspects of Decaying Flame and Dread Metal, then he joined them, an Aspect of Dread Decaying Flaming Metal. For a long time he had sought, tried to find a source, a plane of the Aspect that he possessed and found nothing. He relied on the core Aspects that he had sources for, the corpse of the dragon that he had killed long ago, deep beneath the mountain.

Now… now he felt his core connected to something more, a plane of Aspect that resonated with his. His aspect changed, and as the perk name told him; it was a True Aspect. Dread Decaying Flaming Metal became Decaying Lava of Dread and something shifted. His perks altered, the way that his Aspect impacted them changed. It was the same effect, only… more solid, greater.

Hitor Fah Storrah felt drained as he stood up in the dim light of the rivers of fire floating around him.

Notifications in the corner of his eyes drew his attention and he pulled them up, reading them slowly. Once he reached the last one, his entire demeanor changed and he exploded into movement. Through the great door and out into the cavern that was empty save for two warriors that looked at him with surprise and hope. They yelled out at him and he crashed into the wall with a {Flowing Blast of Flaming River}. His Qi explode out of his arms, a gush of liquid metal that glowed with an orange light. It melted the stone and the effect spread, even the rock decaying and crumbling beyond the burns. He smashed out of the mountain and into the air above his city only to see… war.

A wall had fallen, airships and warriors fought in the skies. Dragons and wyverns were flying, monsters. In the distance he saw a massive dragon, its wings blazing with fire. He saw Ikris and Hiandirn fighting it, their bodies covered in burns, Ikris’ armor melted in places the same as with HIandrin’s scales.

Ancient Forgotten: Fill’aragor—Lord of Flames; Emperor of Dark Mountain; Scourge of the Sun (Tier 25)

He beat his wings, the scales of glowing metal shifted and the air shook. A group of five wyverns came at him, yetis glowing with light attacked from their backs. With barely any effort Hitor threw his hand and a technique at the attackers. A wave of liquid fire, orange-red and black flowed through the air and over them. Their bodies melted, skin first revealing bones that followed a moment later, the flesh near impact decayed and burned in the same step, the pieces of the monsters peeling away and falling through the air.

Techniques filled him increasing his stats and making his scales glow deeper. A dragon came at him and Hitor backhanded it. The heat of his scales melted the dragon’s scales off and he didn’t turn to see what happen to it. He was… enraged at the sight before him. At the attack on his city, his sect, his people. There was no room for hesitation, for holding back, especially with him feeling so drained from his advancement to the Eternal Realm.

The great dragon saw him coming and it blazed with heat, forcing Ikris and Hiandring away. Hitor dove straight in, he triggered his Evolved Form and his Ascended State just as he hit the heat wave.

His Qi spilled out of his core, draining him almost too much. His body grew, transforming into that of a great dragon equal to the one before him. A body made out of liquid Qi shaped around him as he slammed into the enemy dragon.

He saw the panic in its eyes a moment before Hitor’s jaw closed around its neck, burning through its throat. The dragon fought, jerked violently, but all that he did was spread Hitor’s liquid more. The Decaying Lava of Dread covered the dragon, burning, melting through not even the monster’s heat and fire were Hitor’s equal.

From his wings, he unleashed techniques, waves of Qi that melted layers of scales, that burned the skin beneath. He engulfed the monster, pouring himself over it, in it through the wounds. Its thrashing sent a rain of Hitor’s Qi in all directions, bathing the dragons that tried to come to its aid, even the sect warriors, and sending the rest down through the air. Some would burn through his own city, melting stone beneath him, but the quicker he ended it the more people he saved.

The monster opened its mouth, trying to speak, but its vocal cords were long gone, melted along with its throat. It couldn’t breathe, but it didn’t die. And then Hitor saw the fear in its eyes turn to terror as it realized. The Dread Decay, it burned the flesh, but it touched soul as well. The burning might not penetrate that deep, but the decay did. The soul of the monster withered as its body died.

Slowly, as the two of them tumbled from the sky. The monster died a true death before they hit the side of the mountain. Hitor threw the remaining slag away and spread his wings, looking as his warriors laid into the remaining monsters. He roared, and the sect roared back.

He had returned from his seclusion, and he had achieved his goal.

He was in the Eternal Realm.