The hurricane's roar faded into silence, its blinding light dissipating like morning mist.
"Clack."
The sound of a chess piece meeting stone echoed with finality.
Drakon blinked, his vision clearing to reveal Elder Theron seated across from him - the venerable monk's benevolent smile unchanged, his robes undisturbed by phantom winds.
"Was it all...an illusion?" Drakon's voice trembled with residual adrenaline.
"You've passed my trial," Elder Theron announced, stroking his snow-white beard.
Drakon's hands gripped his knees as he steadied his breathing. The stone chessboard between them showed neither black nor white pieces now, only faintly glowing runes. "Master, what was that?"
"A awakening," the elder replied. "I've unlocked your latent potential for aeromancy - what you experienced was a consciousness-projection of your own capabilities."
Drakon flexed his fingers, still feeling the ghostly pressure of wind currents. "So the dandelion seed...the elemental combat..."
"Were manifestations of lessons you needed to learn." Elder Theron's eyes twinkled like starlight on Oracle Falls. "Control your temper, and you'll control powers beyond your imagination - summoning divine beasts, commanding storms, all without the Draconic Seal's restrictions."
"The Fire Dragon Slayer..." Drakon's breath hitched. "I could truly unleash it?"
"Indeed." The elder nodded. "Though I sense you've already begun transcending limits - the Dawnbreaker technique was masterfully executed against the Armored Ones."
Drakon's head snapped up. "How did you—"
"Oracle Falls reflects all, my disciple." Elder Theron chuckled. "I witnessed your entire battle with Killer."
A solemn shadow crossed Drakon's face. "Then you know the Abyssal Lord's forces are mobilizing. Whisperwind Village lies directly in their path."
"Which is why I've dispatched reinforcements, including BlackFang." The elder rose, his staff tapping the ancient stones. "You must go—"
"At once!" Drakon was already bowing, his crimson robes swirling as he turned toward the mountain pass.
Elder Theron watched his retreating form with pride. "A hero's era dawns," he murmured.
From the shimmering air, another figure materialized - a man astride a qilin wreathed in elemental energies. "You summoned me, Master?"
"Martial God." The elder's voice dropped to a whisper. "The Obsidian Drake stirs beneath Cinderfang. You must investigate."
As the legendary warrior departed, Elder Theron gazed eastward where stormclouds gathered. His fingers traced the lotus engraving on his staff - the same symbol that adorned Drakon's retreating back.