THE ALMIGHTY WAR DRAGON

THE MAN WHO KNEW THE PRIMORDIUS

The fire inside the ruined garage crackled as Evans stared at the mysterious old man who stood clapping in the smoke.

The golden aura around Evans still pulsed like a living flame, and patches of scales shimmered along his jaw and neck.

Every instinct in his body warned him that this stranger could be a threat. His muscles tightened, and his dragon force responded with a low, dangerous hum.

The old man took another step forward.

Evans’s aura flared instantly as he surged forward with the force of a predator. “Step back,” he growled, his voice was deeper and rougher than before. “Or you will die where you stand.”

Heat rolled from his body in a wave. The flames on the walls bent toward him, responding to his rising power.

The old man paused, but he didn’t flinch. He simply lifted his hand in a calm gesture, the polished surface of his cane tapping lightly against the floor.

“Peace, Lord Evans,” he said with a gentle smile. “Calm yourself. I am not here to harm you.”

Evans narrowed his glowing eyes. “Who are you?”

“My name is Patrick Johnson,” the old man said. He gave a small bow, stiff but respectful. “I am… a businessman.”

Evans raised an eyebrow. “How is a businessman of any use to me?”

Patrick exhaled softly as if he expected that question.

“Sometimes business reveals more secrets than warfare. And sometimes a man comes across knowledge he was never supposed to have.” His gaze shifted to the scorched floor.

“I happen to know something about the power inside you.”

Evans watched him carefully. The aura around him flickered but didn’t fade. “You know about the Primordius Dragon?”

Patrick adjusted his tie, trying to keep his composure. “Even though the Primordius Dragon hasn’t appeared anywhere in our world for more than a thousand years, I can boldly say that the power you carry is far more complex than anything you imagine.”

He stepped closer, though cautiously. “But I can guide you. I can help you understand it… and control it.”

Evans shook his head. Distrust tightened in his chest. “Why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to,” Patrick replied calmly. “But many lives will be at risk if you don’t learn to control what awakened inside you today. You are powerful, Lord Evans, but power without knowledge is a danger to you and to everyone around you.”

Evans wanted to argue, but a small part of him recognized the truth in those words.

Patrick continued, “You can read my mind. Go on. Look. You will see that I tell no lies.”

Evans hesitated, then extended his senses.

Patrick’s mind opened like a fragile window. There was fear—raw, honest fear—but it wasn’t fear of Evans personally. It was fear of the destruction Evans could cause if left untrained.

Behind that fear was another emotion: desperation. Not greed or ambition—desperation to protect the realm from the chaos that he Evans could unleash.

Evans drew back slightly, surprised by what he saw. “You really are afraid… not of me killing you, but of what could happen if I don’t learn control.”

Patrick nodded. “Yes. Your power is magnificent, but one wrong moment could reduce a city to ashes. I’ve seen what dragon energy can do. Yours is far beyond that.”

Evans looked around the ruined garage, the bodies, the melted machines. Patrick wasn’t wrong. His control had slipped during the fight. If civilians had been nearby…

He clenched his jaw. “Why help me? I’ve been exiled. My brother tried to kill me. The council branded me a traitor. If the people find out I survived and I am still anywhere around Drakarion, they’ll want me executed.”

Patrick met his gaze without fear. “You want to know the truth? Your exile, combined with the awakening of this ancient dragon force, puts you in a position even more complicated than treason, or even when will happen if you are found in Drakarion.” He leaned on his cane.

“You cannot face this alone. You need guidance, as someone who wants the realm safe.”

Evans crossed his arms slowly, golden aura dimming. “You want to help me, right?”

Patrick nodded once, firmly.

Evans’s voice lowered. “I hope you understand the punishment for accommodating someone accused of treason. It’s death.”

Patrick chuckled softly, though his eyes remained serious. “I understand the risk. But I also understand the greater danger if I leave you here. Lord Evans… you’ve gone through enough for one day. Come with me. By the way, I reside in Rovek, the neighbouring country. You will have very little business in Drakarion.”

Evans let the last of his golden aura fade.

His scales slowly receded into his skin until only faint patterns remained along his cheekbones.

His clothes were burned and torn, but he managed to stay upright. His mind felt heavy, worn from the awakening and the constant threats.

Patrick stepped closer. “Can you walk?”

Evans nodded. “I’ll manage.”

They made their way out of the burning garage, stepping over scattered debris. The cold night air hit Evans’s skin sharply.

A sleek, dark luxury car sat under a broken street lamp outside the building. Patrick pressed a button on his cane, and the vehicle unlocked with a click.

Evans raised an eyebrow. “Not exactly a subtle escape.”

“I didn’t expect to find you in the middle of a battlefield,” Patrick replied as he opened the door. “Get in, my lord.”

Evans slid into the passenger seat. The interior smelled like leather and faint cologne. Patrick got behind the wheel and started the engine. The dashboard lights illuminated his calm face.

As the car rolled away from the burning structure, Evans watched the flames shrinking in the distance.

His life had changed in a single night. He was no longer a noble, no longer a scientist, no longer Drakarion’s heir.

He was something far more dangerous.

And he had no idea what came next.

Evans turned to the old man beside him.

“Why do I get the feeling you want something from me?”

Patrick didn’t flinch. He simply tightened his grip on the steering wheel and spoke with quiet honesty.

“Well… that is because I do.”