The Mad WarDragon of Greed.

Chapter 2: Old hatchling.

Stravos slowly opened his eyes. The first thing he noticed was the darkness surrounding him from every direction, broken only by faint traces of light forcing their way through cracks and tiny openings in the walls.

His breathing became heavier as he stared into the unfamiliar darkness.

“Where am I? Is this the afterlife?” Stravos muttered, his voice barely carrying through the stillness of the cave.

He pushed himself upright almost immediately, his body instinctively shifting into a battle stance. His muscles tensed as he scanned the darkness around him, expecting an enemy to emerge from the shadows at any moment.

Then pain coursed through his body, sharp and strangely familiar. Stravos froze as the sensation spread through his chest and limbs, reminding him of the battle he had just fought.

His eyes widened as his hand immediately went to his chest. His fingers touched skin where there should have been a gaping wound, blood pouring from the place where Amon had torn his heart from his body.

There was no wound, but beneath his palm, something was beating. His heart was beating fast and hard, and every powerful thump sent another pulse of pain through his body.

Stravos's breathing became uneven as he pressed his hand harder against his chest, almost as though he needed to convince himself that the sensation was real. Each heartbeat brought back the memory of Amon's hand tearing through his chest, and for a moment, he could almost feel his heart leaving his body all over again.

“Damnit,” Stravos muttered through clenched teeth. He slowly lowered his hand, his expression hardening as the truth settled in his mind, because he was now certain that this wasn't a dream.

He remembered the battlefield, the alliance, Amon, and the moment his life had been ripped away from him. Most importantly, he remembered dying.

Stravos slowly looked around the cave again. The place was dark and cold, with the stale smell of stone and earth lingering in the air as his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness.

His gaze moved across the rough walls until something suddenly caught his attention. The shape of the cave felt strangely familiar, and memories buried deep within him began to surface.

This wasn't an unknown cave; it was the cave he had seen as a hatchling. It was his birth cave.

“What the hell is going on?” Stravos asked, his voice low as he stared at the familiar walls. His eyes narrowed while he tried to piece together what had happened.

If his memory served him right, this had something to do with the strange markings that had engraved themselves across his skin during his battle with the Heavenly Alliance. Those markings had appeared without warning, and now that he was somehow alive again, he couldn't ignore their possible connection to his resurrection.

“But how?” he muttered as he frowned. He didn't remember activating it himself, but it was something he was well familiar with, something his father had taught him.

It was a Dragonic Ritual passed down from generation to generation. The ritual itself was simple, as it required a huge portion of a Dragon's wealth, and in return, it granted the Dragon a one-time wish.

Stravos frowned as the pieces slowly came together. He had wished for her safety, so why had the ritual worked on him instead?

His mother's face flashed through his mind, and his expression immediately changed. He clenched his fists as an uncomfortable thought settled inside him, wondering whether his mother was already dead.

Looking around, he noticed that his birth cave was different from what he remembered. The walls were more worn, several sections had collapsed, and dust covered places that had once been familiar to him.

The cave looked as though it had been ravaged by the passage of time. Stravos slowly walked toward one of the weathered walls and ran his fingers across the rough stone, his brows drawing together as he examined it.

“I need to find Mother, but first, I need to know when and where exactly I am,” Stravos said quietly. He pulled his hand away from the wall and began navigating through the cave, relying on the memories he had of the place from his childhood.

It took a while, but as he tried to navigate the terrain, Stravos began to doubt whether this truly was the place where he had broken his egg and emerged as a Dragonling. The cave had changed so much that even the paths he remembered seemed unfamiliar.

Still, the deeper he went, the more pieces of his memories began to line up with what he saw around him. The differences were unsettling, but there was something about the stone formations and the shape of the cave that he could not deny.

Not long after, he found an exit. Stravos approached the opening cautiously before stepping through, and the sight waiting beyond it brought him to an abrupt stop.

“What the hell happened?” Stravos asked, his voice filled with disbelief. The once-lush greenery surrounding his cave was now gone, replaced by a desolate wasteland of desert, bones, and corpses.

Dry wind swept across the barren land, carrying dust through the air and dragging the faint stench of decay with it. Stravos stood in silence, staring at a world that should have been familiar but now looked as though it had been abandoned by life itself.

His hands slowly curled into fists as anger surged through him. For a moment, he fought back the urge to transform into a Dragon, storm into human settlements, and lay waste to everything in his path.

His body tensed as the instinctive desire for revenge rose within him, but the transformation never came. Amon's curse still lingered, strong enough to prevent him from transforming.

Stravos's jaw tightened as he forced himself to calm down. He wanted revenge, but he didn't want to simply kill everyone who had betrayed him, because he wanted to repay them in the most gruesome and humiliating way possible.

For now, however, he needed answers. He needed to know what had happened to the world, what had happened to his mother, and most importantly, how much time had passed since his death.

Stravos turned his gaze north. In the Eldora Kingdom, the northern part had the closest settlement where he could source information, and it was the only kingdom he knew of that accepted mixed races without discrimination.

Without wasting any more time, he sprinted north. The barren terrain tore at his feet while the dry wind scraped against his skin, but he continued pushing forward despite the exhaustion that gradually settled into his limbs.

His body was still recovering from the wounds that should have killed him, and every movement reminded him that whatever had brought him back had not restored him completely. Even so, Stravos refused to slow down because every moment spent wandering without answers was another moment lost.

After what felt like half a day of running, exhaustion slowly crept over him as he approached a canyon that was the only thing separating him from the Eldora Kingdom. Stravos finally slowed down, breathing heavily as he stared at the enormous canyon ahead.

The terrain was much larger than he remembered, but the canyon itself was the same nonetheless. That realization unsettled him more than it comforted him because it confirmed that this really was the land he remembered.

“So, I'm truly alive and not dead,” Stravos muttered as he looked across the canyon. He began searching for a passage through the rocky terrain, his eyes moving from one path to another.

Then he noticed something nearby. There were people settled around a carriage, while two mighty horses rested at the front, their bodies rising and falling slowly as they recovered from the journey.

Stravos stared at them for a moment as his expression slowly changed. After everything he had seen since awakening, the sight of ordinary people was strangely reassuring, and more importantly, they could provide the information he desperately needed.

“Well, what do you know?” Stravos said with a faint smile as he looked toward the carriage. He took a slow breath before turning his attention toward the people gathered around it.

“Time to regain everything... starting with innocence,” Stravos said, his eyes narrowing as he began walking toward the carriage. He had no idea that this seemingly ordinary encounter would become the first step toward discovering just how much the world had changed while he was gone.