"Years before Dark Haven's descent, the Dragon King traveled across the cosmos… in search of Worldly Authorities."
Rhelga's voice carried through the green-lit chamber, steady and unhurried, as if the words themselves had waited a long time to be spoken.
"Obtaining them was never a peaceful act. Realms that guarded those Authorities did not surrender them. Many died defending what they believed should never fall into a single pair of hands. Entire orders were broken. The blood of those battles did not remain hidden for long."
Indura stood with his arms folded, listening in silence. The soft pulse of the glowing veins painted faint light across his face.
Rhelga continued.
"Years after those conquests, the news spread beyond the Middle Realm. It climbed higher still, until it reached the Upper Realm… and finally reached him."
A pause settled in the chamber.
"The Light of Dawn."
Shadow's eyes sharpened at the name. Something old and heavy moved behind his usual stillness.
Indura's gaze lowered slightly. A faint crease formed between his brows, as if the title had brushed against a half-buried memory.
"I have heard of him," he said. "Not much. Someone I once knew spoke the name."
Rhelga's mouth curved in a thin smile.
"You are more knowledgeable than most already. But you do not yet understand what that name truly means."
Indura glanced up.
"Continue."
Rhelga inclined his head.
"The Light of Dawn was not like any other being in the universe. He was a fragment of the Sun itself, given form and will. A being of pure divinity. Commander of the Sky Palace. Where he walked, lesser lights dimmed."
Indura nodded once, slowly.
Rhelga's voice dropped a fraction.
"And he was an old friend of yours."
Indura's eyes widened for the briefest moment. He started to speak, but Rhelga raised a single finger.
"Wait. I am not finished."
The old elf's gaze drifted downward, as if looking through the floor into a much older day.
"When the Light of Dawn received word of the Dragon King's deeds across the realms, it must have wounded him deeply. To learn that one he had once stood beside had taken so many Authorities by force… that knowledge would not have been light to carry. So he descended into Chaos to confront him."
A faint, knowing smile touched Rhelga's lips.
"But the Dragon King was already waiting. He had seen that fate long before the light ever touched this sky."
Rhelga's fingers tightened slightly around his staff.
"At that time, he ordered me to remain within this domain. I was not to interfere. I was not to reveal what he had already set in motion. So I stayed… and watched through spatial magic."
His mismatched eyes lifted and met Indura's.
"When the Light of Dawn entered Chaos, he did not arrive quietly. Half of the red sky turned blue in his presence. The wild mana that had always roared through this world settled, as if forced into calm. Flowers bloomed across ground that had never known them. A border of living nature spread outward from his steps, meeting the barren land like two opposing truths pressed against each other."
The fireflies in the chamber drifted on in slow, indifferent paths.
Rhelga's voice lowered further, carrying the weight of something witnessed and never forgotten.
"That was how their final meeting began... I watched them from afar."
His tone had grown quieter, as if the memory itself demanded a lower tone.
"I watched the Light of Dawn argue. I watched him speak of disappointment, of the path the Dragon King had chosen. And I watched the Dragon King answer with nothing but absolute certainty. The Light of Dawn revealed that he had already purged the forces of darkness that had slipped into the lower realm. He knew Dark Haven was coming… and still he chose to confront the Dragon King first."
A long breath left the old elf.
"In the end, the reunion turned into a battle."
---------------
The land itself seemed to hold still between them.
The Light of Dawn stood wreathed in pure radiance. A golden halo burned softly above his head. Six massive wings of white-gold light stretched from his back, each feather edged with living brilliance. His long hair fell in luminous white strands to the middle of his back. Silver armor covered his form, its surface alive with shifting runes that glowed and dimmed like slow breath. His eyes were silver — clear, ancient, and filled with a deep, unhidden disappointment as they rested on the figure across from him.
The Dragon King stood some distance away, arms folded across his chest. Four obsidian horns curved on his head. Crimson scale armor caught the scattered light and threw it back in hard, blood-red reflections. A cape that looked as if it had been forged from liquid flame hung from his shoulders, moving with a heat of its own. Long crimson hair stirred in the wind. His golden eyes fixed on the Light of Dawn with cold, unwavering intensity — the gaze of a conqueror who had already measured the ending of the moment.
Neither moved.
The wind passed between them, carrying the scent of newly bloomed flowers and scorched earth.
Then the Light of Dawn raised one hand. Light gathered at his fingertips, pure and weightless.
His voice, when it came, was clear beyond ordinary sound — resonant, untainted, as if the air itself had been made to carry it without strain.
"I am disappointed in you, Brother."
The Dragon King's mouth curved.
It was not the careless smile of later years. It was sharper. Hungrier. A look of genuine, barely restrained excitement.
He unfolded his arms and extended one hand outward.
"You are a fool."
Then his voice dropped into command.
"Come… Drake."
The word left him like a law spoken into the world.
For a single heartbeat, the air went utterly still.
Far beyond the nearest mountain range, a red spark ignited. It tore free from the stone and streaked across the land at impossible speed, a burning line drawn against the sky. The Light of Dawn's silver eyes tracked its approach. In the same instant, he leaped backward, wings flaring as he rose high into the air.
The spark resolved.
A great sword, massive and ancient, formed fully as it fell — its blade wrapped in dense, roaring red aura. It dropped into the Dragon King's waiting hand with a sound like the world accepting a verdict.
He did not pause.
The Dragon King swung.
A colossal arc of red force erupted from the blade — a slash vast enough to dwarf two mountains side by side. It tore forward with a shriek of split air, carving a canyon of light and pressure through sky and ground alike. Everything in its path bent toward destruction.
The Light of Dawn looked almost small before it.
Light gathered in his hands. A lance took shape — long, elegant, forged of interwoven silver and gold, its tip burning with concentrated divinity. He drew it back once, then thrust.
The lance met the oncoming slash and punched cleanly through its heart.
The colossal wave of red force split apart around the point of impact. The severed remnants curved past him on either side, screaming as they went. Clouds in the upper sky were ripped open in long, glowing wounds. The wind that followed howled across the transformed land, tearing petals from the newly born flowers and sending them swirling into the blue-and-red heavens.
The Light of Dawn remained suspended in the air, lance extended, silver eyes still fixed on the Dragon King below.
The first exchange had ended.
The Light of Dawn looked down upon the Dragon King with cold, unclouded eyes.
The Dragon King smiled in return and rested the great sword across his shoulder, as if the colossal exchange moments before had been nothing more than an opening greeting.
For a brief second, the Light of Dawn closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the disappointment had hardened into something final.
He raised his lance.
"Your reign ends here."
The sky answered.
A massive crack split the heavens, tearing through the red firmament from horizon to horizon. Light poured from the wound. From that rupture they descended — not in scattered groups, but in overwhelming numbers. Hundreds. Then thousands. Then tens of thousands. Sky Warriors clad in holy radiance flooded the upper air, their forms burning white and gold against the broken sky. Some carried long swords of condensed light. Others bore massive hammers that warped the air around them. Many held towering shields etched with divine script. Their wings filled what remained of the open sky until it seemed heaven itself had lowered its full host into the world.
At the center of that descent, the Light of Dawn hovered in perfect stillness. Radiance poured from his six wings and halo in steady, crushing waves. The very air around him felt heavier, purified, as if lesser existence were being pushed aside by his presence alone.
The Dragon King watched it all without alarm.
He lifted one hand and gave a slight, almost careless wave of his fingers.
The ground erupted.
From beneath the scarred earth, dragons tore free in a violent tide. Some were lean and serpentine, others broad and heavily armored in natural plate. Some stood only slightly taller than the greatest towers of mortal kingdoms; others rose so vast their wings blotted out sections of the battlefield when unfurled. Their roars crashed across the land in overlapping waves — raw, ancient, and filled with killing intent. Many remained on the ground, claws gouging deep trenches as they advanced into formation. Others took to the air in dense, chaotic swarms, their shadows racing across the transformed fields below.
Then four greater shapes burst from the earth directly behind the Dragon King.
The first was dark green, its scales layered like overlapping blades, two horns curved on its head, eyes burning with feral intelligence. The second was pure black, almost absorbing the light around it, with four curved horns on its head, its form sleek and predatory. The third carried scales of gray shot through with deep gold, its presence heavy and immovable. The fourth was blue, marked with streaks of ash-gray, twin-horned and sharp-eyed, its aura cold and precise.
They did not roar immediately. They took their places behind their king, vast and still, like living calamities held in reserve.
The Dragon King stood at the heart of it all.
Crimson hair moved in the wind born from thousands of wings. The cape of liquid flame stirred at his back. Drake rested easily on his shoulder, red aura coiling along its edge. Behind him stretched a sea of dragons. Before him, the heavens themselves had become an army of light. His golden eyes held no hesitation — only the cold, absolute certainty of a conqueror who had already accepted the shape of the coming slaughter.
He raised the great sword.
Every dragon answered at once.
The sound that followed was not merely noise. It was a rolling, deafening declaration of death that shook the newly bloomed flowers from their stems and sent tremors through the bones of the land.
The Dragon King pointed Drake forward.
The legion of dragons surged.
High above, the Light of Dawn lowered his lance and pointed it toward the charging host.
The Sky Warriors moved as one.
Light and scale. Divinity and conquest. Two vast forces poured toward each other across the wounded sky and broken earth, the space between them collapsing under the weight of what was about to collide.
---------------
"The clash," Rhelga said, "was beyond anything I had ever witnessed."
Indura drew in a slow breath and let it out. The images Rhelga had painted still moved behind his eyes — the split sky, the sea of wings, the four great dragons standing like calamities at his former self's back. A quiet smile touched his mouth.
"I am speechless."
Rhelga chuckled.
"Of course you are. I was the same. The world itself shook under that battle. I was forced to move the elves farther and farther from the field, away from the sweeping shockwaves of the Dragon King's breath and the Light of Dawn's purest attacks. Even at a distance, the air burned."
Indura's smile lingered as he exhaled again.
"What happened next?"
Rhelga's gaze lifted toward the green-lit ceiling, following the slow drift of the fireflies.
"The battle was far too destructive. Dragons fell in great numbers. Sky Warriors fell in even greater numbers. Neither side gave ground easily."
"And the four dragons?" Indura asked.
"Ah… those." Rhelga's expression shifted with something like old respect. "They were the four generals under the Dragon King. Each carried power second only to his own. They met the three Asuras in direct combat. Neither side could bring the other down. The Asuras proved stronger than even the generals had anticipated."
He paused.
"But the Dragon King had already known this would be the case. Before the Light of Dawn ever set foot in Chaos, he had prepared one of his Authorities."
Both Indura and Shadow looked at him.
"The Authority of Dominion."
A brief silence passed between them.
"He did not set it to its full output," Rhelga continued. "Had he done so, the Light of Dawn would have sensed the cage immediately. Instead, he wove it carefully — so that only after every Sky force had entered the skies of Chaos would the Dominion close around them and seal them here."
Indura raised an eyebrow.
"Do not tell me he intended to slaughter them all."
Rhelga's mouth curved.
"He considered it. But slaughter was not his true intention in sealing them."
"Go on."
"The Dragon King did not plan to rely on his other Authorities in that battle. Simply put… he did not believe he would lose. What he needed was to wear the Light of Dawn down — not enough to kill him, but enough to extract something from him."
Shadow's eyes flickered. A quiet recognition passed through them.
Rhelga's voice lowered.
"The Dragon King wanted the Light of Dawn's Authority for himself."
Indura tilted his head slightly.
"Why would he need it?"
"Please listen," Rhelga said.
Indura fell silent, though curiosity sharpened behind his golden eyes.
"By the time the afternoon sun stood high, the Dragon King's forces had taken the upper hand. Inside the Dominion, every dragon's abilities were doubled. Even against divine warriors, the difference began to show. The Sky Warriors still held their numbers and their discipline, but they were being overwhelmed by sheer, intelligent brutality. The dragons were not mindless beasts. They adapted. They feinted. They coordinated in ways the Sky forces had not fully prepared for. In that sealed sky, they became unpredictable."
Rhelga let out a long breath.
"When the Light of Dawn finally noticed the disturbance in the air and understood the nature of the Dominion…"
His mismatched eyes returned to Indura.
"…it was already too late."
---------------
The Light of Dawn crashed into the earth.
The impact sent a violent ring of wind outward, tearing up stone and newly bloomed flowers alike. Dust and shattered soil rose in a thick cloud around him. When it began to thin, he was already forcing himself upright. He clenched one fist, then the other, testing the strength that remained in his arms. Overhead, the sky had deepened into a heavier red. He felt it clearly now — the condensed mana pressing down across the entire battlefield, thick and inescapable. Under the weight of the Dominion, his power was being drawn away, slowly but without pause.
We are all under his dominion?!... But... since when?!
He rose to his feet.
"Focus."
The word came from behind him.
The instant he turned, a kick drove into his face with brutal, concentrated force. The world spun. His body was launched backward like a broken spear, smashing through the base of a mountain. Stone exploded outward. The entire peak shuddered, cracked, and then collapsed in a cascading ruin of rock and dust.
The Light of Dawn blinked once through the debris — then shot upward in a streak of white-gold light, breaking free into the open sky.
A red blur was already chasing him.
He tried to turn, to raise his lance, but the Dragon King closed the distance too quickly. A hand clamped around his throat. The next moment he was hurled aside like discarded weight, and the air filled with the scream of incoming force.
Dozens of colossal red slashes tore after him.
The Light of Dawn forced his body steady mid-air. His silver eyes widened as the wave of destruction filled his vision. He swung the lance in a continuous series of precise, desperate arcs. Each cut cleaved through a slash, scattering red aura into the wind — and with every swing he felt another measure of strength leave him. The Dominion did not relent.
He cut through the final arc.
One hand pressed against his chest. Pain from the accumulated exchanges pulsed deeper now, heavier than before.
Across the sky, the Dragon King showed no such strain. The wounds he had taken were already closing, flesh and scale knitting back together without pause. A wide, unrestrained grin split his face. He opened his mouth. Red and yellow energy coiled between his teeth, crackling violently — then fused into a pure, searing white.
The beam that erupted from him tore a straight line through the air.
The Light of Dawn reacted at once. He spun the lance, divine power surging along its length, and swept it in a wide, brilliant arc. The white beam met the divine slash and was cleaved apart. What followed was a detonation that lit the sealed sky like a second sun. Shockwaves ripped outward in every direction, slamming into distant clouds and scattering both dragons and Sky Warriors caught too close.
The Light of Dawn coughed.
Blood left his mouth in a bright spray. His eyes widened at the sight of it — his own blood, vivid against the radiance of his armor.
The Dragon King gave him no time to recover.
He closed the gap in an instant, Drake already drawn back for a thrust. The Light of Dawn met the attack. Lance and great sword crashed together. The two figures became a storm of motion high above the ruined land — thrust answered by thrust, slash turned aside by lance-head, sparks of red and holy light scattering with every collision. The air around them screamed under the speed of the exchange.
Then the Light of Dawn broke away, wings flaring as he tried to create distance.
A hand locked around his ankle.
"Where are you going?" the Dragon King asked, almost curious.
He pulled.
The Light of Dawn was yanked out of the air and driven downward with terrifying force. He struck the earth like a falling star. The ground cratered. A massive shockwave exploded outward from the point of impact, strong enough to hurl even the larger dragons off their feet and send them skidding across the battlefield in sprays of dirt and broken stone.
Dust and fractured light rose in a tall, choking column.
At the center of it, the sealed war continued to grind forward — one side still grinning, the other beginning to bleed in earnest.
The Light of Dawn forced himself upright.
He stood at the center of the vast crater his own body had carved into the earth, one hand braced against his knee for a moment before he straightened fully. A cough left him. He dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood there, then let the arm fall back to his side.
This is dangerous. The Dominion is sucking away at my will and power. At this rate, every exchange will only leave me dry... I must find a way... Or use my own Authority.
The sky above remained a deep, sealed red.
A heavy impact shook the crater floor.
The Dragon King came down hard in front of him, the force of his landing sending a wide ring of dust and wind racing outward across the broken ground. The Light of Dawn lifted one arm and shielded his eyes against the blast. When the roar of displaced air began to fade, a voice cut through the settling haze — low, certain, and almost conversational.
"You cannot undo what has already been done, oh little light."
The dust thinned.
The Dragon King stepped through it at an unhurried pace. Drake rested across his back now, its red aura dimmed to a slow, simmering coil along the blade. His golden eyes moved over the Light of Dawn without urgency, without concern, as if measuring something that had already been weighed and found lacking.
The Light of Dawn held himself upright. His breathing had grown ragged. The pure glow in his silver eyes flickered at the edges, strained under the constant pressure of the Dominion still leaching strength from his form.
The Dragon King studied him for a long moment. Whatever he saw there left no impression of respect or surprise on his face — only a cold, settled certainty.
When he spoke again, his voice was low and firm, carrying easily across the ruined space between them.
"This battle is far from over… Old friend."