In the impenetrable darkness, Drakon stood at the center gripping his crimson blade, senses heightened to their limits as he maintained absolute defensive focus. Twin flames burned within his eyes - draconic pupils capable of piercing through any illusion, their glow like beacons in the endless night.
"This makes no sense," he muttered. "I was just playing chess with Elder Theron at the Celestial Monastery..."
The rhythmic clatter of stone against metal boots suddenly echoed through the void. Ten towering figures materialized from the shadows, forming a perfect circle around him - silent sentinels with indistinguishable features.
"Who dares approach the disciple of Cinderfang Mountain?" Drakon's voice cut through the darkness, fingers tightening around Dawnbreaker's hilt. The sword pulsed with barely restrained energy. "Your silence insults me!"
When no answer came, his temper flared. With a roar that would make dragons pause, Drakon became a crimson whirlwind. Dawnbreaker traced deadly arcs through the air, its scarlet afterimages painting phantom dragons in the dark. Yet each strike met only emptiness - the shadowy figures remained just beyond reach, their distance unchanging no matter how fiercely he pressed the attack.
Panting, Drakon drove his blade into the unseen ground. "Impossible... I've fought entire armies without tiring like this." His breath came in ragged gasps as realization dawned. "They're not attacking... just observing. I'm the fool wasting energy."
The moment Drakon stilled his blade, the ten figures stirred. Radiant light erupted from their forms, overwhelming Dawnbreaker's crimson glow with pure celestial energy. Drakon staggered back as recognition struck - this overwhelming power mirrored the divine aura surrounding the Ten Sacred Peaks of the Celestial Monastery.
"Wind... Forest... Fire..." Drakon whispered as understanding came. "You're the Mountain Guardians!"
"Control your temper, disciple," boomed the first guardian, its voice carrying the howl of gale winds. "Rage makes you weak."
Drakon immediately dropped to one knee. "This junior begs forgiveness for his disrespect."
The second guardian spoke with the rumble of shifting tectonic plates: "Your trial begins now."
Before Drakon could respond, hurricane winds materialized from nothingness. A monstrous tornado formed around him, its roaring walls compressing inward with terrifying speed. Within the maelstrom's heart, Drakon struggled to maintain footing as debris pummeled him from all directions.
"Remember," the Wind Guardian's voice whispered through the chaos, "the gale is both shield and sword - yielding yet unbreakable."
Drakon's eyes widened at the lesson. This wasn't merely an attack, but a living demonstration of wind combat principles! He watched in awe as the vortex tightened its deadly embrace, realizing with sudden clarity how such techniques could trap even the mightiest demon lords.
"Focus your qi!" the guardian commanded as the tornado's walls closed within sword's reach. "Break the cycle!"
Drakon clenched his jaw. Just hours ago he'd defeated Killer of the Armored Ones in glorious combat, yet now found himself bested by mere air? The humiliation burned worse than any wound.
As the vortex contracted to crushing dimensions, Dawnbreaker's glow dimmed against the overwhelming pressure. The very atmosphere screamed in protest, the funnel cloud now stretching from unseen heavens to the abyssal floor beneath his feet. In that desperate moment, Drakon understood true mastery required more than brute strength - it demanded harmony with the elements themselves.