John gripped the Soulrender with both hands, the runes along its blade glowing a hungry crimson as he drove it down toward Argon’s eye. The dragon jerked its massive head aside at the last moment, golden pupils flaring with raw fury. The blade struck the thick ridge above the eye instead, carving a deep gash that sprayed shimmering blood into the air like molten rain. Argon roared, the sound booming like thunder that shook the sky apart, cracks tearing through the dark volcanic clouds overhead. The ground quaked under the force, lava bursting up in fiery fountains while the dragon’s tail whipped around in rage, cutting across the wasteland like a giant scythe of destruction.John leaped backward, his shadow wings snapping open to carry him aloft in a graceful arc. The tail missed him by inches, slamming into the earth and creating a crater that swallowed boulders whole. Dust and ash billowed upward in a choking cloud, but John didn't hesitate—he dove straight back in, teleporting mid-

John stepped forward and the place seemed to tighten around him. Heat rose from his skin as if a hearth sat just beneath his ribs; when he narrowed his eyes they glowed like embers in a dying fire. "Where is the Sanctum, King?" he said. "I've wasted my patience on riddles. Point me to the path and this ends with no more blood."The King didn't look like a man who intended to bargain. Age had carved lines into his face, his breath came in short pulls, and his single horn caught the torchlight and threw it back in a harsh white. He tightened his grip on the staff until the knuckles whitened. "Never," he said, each syllable thick with defiance. "I'd rather die than let something like you touch the Crystal of Life." The word crystal tasted like reverence in his mouth; he set his chin and would not let the fear show.Movement broke the silence at the castle arches — first a soft rustle, then the steady clack of boots on stone. Dozens of guards stepped into the hall, not a panicked crowd bu

The first pulse from the Wardens hit like the toll of a god’s bell. A blinding ring of light erupted across the plaza, burning away blood and shadow alike. Marble shards lifted from the ground, frozen in midair, each one humming with radiant magic. The air itself trembled under the force of the incantation. John’s cloak snapped behind him, and even Argon’s massive wings folded instinctively, muscles rippling beneath scales the color of storm-forged iron.The Wardens stood in a perfect circle around the dais, twelve of them, their robes shimmering like molten glass, each one carrying a different sigil that glowed across their spectral armor. Their faces were hidden behind masks of living light that twisted and reformed like ripples on water. When they moved, it wasn’t walking... it was sliding through air, graceful and unnatural, like reflections that had stepped out of a mirror.John tilted his head, eyes narrowing. The Soulrender pulsed once in his hand, runes lighting up with an ang

Argon’s wings unfurled in a storm of power. With a thunderous beat, the dragon launched into the air, the force of its ascent sending shockwaves across the barren plain. Sand exploded outward in a massive gale, whipping through the air in spiraling sheets. Vera shielded her face as the blast nearly knocked her off her feet, her hair whipping wildly in the wind.Argon rose like a meteor tearing through the twilight sky, its colossal wings slicing the dim horizon. Every beat sent tremors through the air, scattering the sand below into violent whirlwinds. John stood balanced on the dragon’s back, his shadow-dark hair streaming behind him, eyes gleaming with crimson fire. His aura flared outward, expanding in waves that wrapped both him and Argon in a shroud of silver and red light. The Soulrender gleamed in his hand, alive, blazing like a banner of death.Ahead, the titans bellowed in unison. Six voices rose in a single, earth-shattering roar that made the entire dese

John reached the cottage door and paused, his gloved hand resting on the worn brass handle. The evening air outside was sharp and cold, but from within came a faint, impossible warmth; a breath of home in a world that had long since forgotten what “home” meant. Slowly, he pushed the door open. It creaked, groaning on its old hinges, and swung inward to reveal a sight that shouldn’t exist in a realm forged by gods and monsters.Warmth spilled out first, wrapping around him like an embrace. The air carried the scent of pinewood and baked bread. A gentle crackle whispered from a hearth on the far wall, firelight dancing across polished wooden floors that glowed amber beneath its glow. The space was lived-in, peaceful and human. Books lined the shelves, worn and dog-eared, their spines crooked from use. A small table stood by the window, crowned with a vase of wildflowers and two cups of steaming tea, as if someone had only just stepped away.John blinked, his chest tightening. It felt… w