The Silver Dojo sat perched on the edge of a craggy cliff, overlooking a storm-lashed coastline. Unlike the serene elegance of the Golden Dragon Dojo, the Silver Dojo was austere, unadorned, and sharp-edged, like the warriors it produced. The walls were carved from dark stone, polished by centuries of training, and the air itself seemed charged with tension and latent power.
Swift entered through the main gate, his armor adjusted, his hands wrapped around his red-star broadsword. Unlike his first days on Espearia, his arrival on Earth had brought him not only survival but also opportunity. The Masters of the Silver Dojo had recognized his skill and, seeing potential in his combat instinct, had chosen him as an apprentice. Yet he immediately realized that this dojo would test him in ways he had never imagined.
"Swift," called a deep voice, echoing through the cavernous courtyard. Master Kael, the leader of the Silver Dojo, emerged from the shadows. His silver robes gleamed faintly in the muted light, and his presence radiated authority. "The Silver Dragon awaits you."
Swift's eyes narrowed. He had heard whispers of the Silver Dragon transformation—a legendary form few living could claim. Unlike the Golden Dragon's harmony and spiritual control, the Silver Dragon was power incarnate, a fusion of ferocity, precision, and adaptability. Every movement was lethal, every strike capable of turning the tide of battle.
"You will not simply wield this power," Kael continued. "You must become it. Your mind, your body, your instincts—all must bend to the form. Only then will the Silver Dragon trust you."
Swift followed Kael through the dojo, passing rows of trainees practicing aggressive strikes and intricate maneuvers. Their movements were fast, almost predatory, each footfall precise, each block calculated. Unlike the Golden Dragon's flowing grace, the Silver Dojo emphasized control under pressure, adaptability, and the ruthless efficiency of raw power.
They reached a central arena, an open courtyard encircled by jagged rocks. In the center, a shimmering pool of silver light rippled, pulsating as though alive. Kael raised his hand, and from the pool emerged a figure cloaked in pure silver scales, its wings stretching wide. The Silver Dragon had arrived. Its form was unmistakably western—muscular, with taloned claws, a spiked tail, and eyes that burned like molten steel.
"Observe closely, Swift," Kael instructed. "The Silver Dragon does not grant its power freely. It tests those who seek its strength. It will challenge you in mind, body, and spirit. To fail is to be broken. To succeed…" Kael's lips curled into a faint smile. "To succeed is to become more than you ever imagined."
The dragon let out a low, rumbling growl, its wings unfurling to their full span. The sound reverberated through Swift's chest, forcing him to steady his breathing. He gripped his sword tightly, feeling the familiar weight of star metal grounding him. He had faced gods and monsters on Espearia, yet the presence of this creature made him realize that mastery would require more than skill—it would demand a complete surrender to the process of transformation.
Kael gestured, and the Silver Dragon lunged. Its claws struck the ground, sending shockwaves toward Swift, who dodged instinctively, rolling and slashing with his red-star sword. Sparks flew as blade met scales, yet the dragon's skin was nearly impervious. Each movement Swift made was met with a counter, a test of timing, speed, and strategy.
"Remember!" Kael's voice cut through the chaos. "Do not rely solely on your weapon! The Dragon is an extension of your body. Its instincts are yours. Become the form!"
Swift closed his eyes for a brief moment and felt the flow of energy around him, the Silver Dragon's aura humming in resonance with his own star-metal body. He visualized its movements, mimicked the rhythm of its wings, and allowed instinct to guide him rather than thought. When he reopened his eyes, he moved differently—faster, sharper, more precise. He struck again, anticipating the dragon's next lunge, deflecting blows with a fluidity he had never accessed before.
The Silver Dragon responded, adapting to his pattern, its own movements evolving with terrifying speed. Swift realized that this was no simple training exercise—it was a battle of wills. He had to anticipate, react, and harmonize with a creature that tested not just his skill, but his perception and composure under pressure.
Hours passed. Sweat and blood mingled on Swift's skin, his star-metal armor scarred but unbroken. He grew attuned to the dragon's motions, predicting attacks before they happened, countering strikes, and striking with precision. Kael observed silently, occasionally nodding, occasionally frowning. The Master did not intervene; he allowed the challenge to continue, letting Swift push his limits and discover the Silver Dragon within himself.
Finally, as dusk fell and the last rays of sunlight gleamed off the ocean beyond the cliffs, Swift felt it—the surge of power, the alignment of mind, body, and instinct. He moved, not as a man wielding a sword, but as a dragon incarnate. His muscles rippled, his heart raced in synchrony with the Silver Dragon's aura, and a luminous silver glow enveloped him. Wings of energy unfurled from his back, his talons sharpened, and his eyes burned with the reflection of the dragon's power.
The Silver Dragon circled him, massive and imposing, yet there was recognition in its gaze. It tested him one final time with a lightning-quick strike, and Swift met it head-on, parrying with a strike that sent a pulse of energy reverberating through the courtyard. The creature paused, then lowered its massive head, a gesture of acknowledgment.
Kael approached, his expression one of rare approval. "You have taken your first step into the Silver Dragon path. Few can endure this trial, and even fewer can awaken the form. Remember this power, Swift, but never forget—control is everything. Strength without control is destruction, and even a dragon can be destroyed by its own fire if untempered."
Swift lowered his arms, breathing heavily, sweat and grime streaking his face. The glow of the Silver Dragon faded, but he could still feel its energy pulsing through him, a reminder that mastery was not a destination but a journey.
"You will train here," Kael continued. "Daily, without exception. You will face simulated battles, duels, and trials beyond imagination. You will learn to channel energy, to merge instinct with strategy, and to endure the extremes of both physical and spiritual strain. Only then will you be prepared to face the darkness awaiting you."
Swift nodded, a fierce determination in his eyes. "I understand, Master. I will not fail."
Kael's gaze softened slightly. "Good. And Swift—remember this. The Silver Dragon grants power, yes, but it also demands responsibility. Your strength is no longer just yours. It will be tested. It will be challenged. And the world will judge you by how you wield it."
As night fell over the Silver Dojo, Swift stood alone in the courtyard, gazing out at the ocean. The wind whipped around him, carrying the salty tang of the sea, and he could almost feel the weight of Bones, the entity that had destroyed his home world, pressing from across the cosmos. The path ahead was perilous, yet he felt a new sense of resolve. The Silver Dragon was no longer a legend. It was a part of him—and through it, he would prepare to face the darkness that awaited.
Tomorrow, the training would begin again, more intense, more brutal, more relentless. But Swift was ready. He had survived gods, monsters, and the destruction of his world. Now, on Earth, he would forge a power that would rival them all—and when the time came, he would return to confront Bones with the strength of a Silver Dragon behind him.