Henry sat at the edge of the strange pit, staring at his pale white scales. His entire body felt different—strong, yet unfamiliar. The weight of what had just happened hit him like a tidal wave. "I'm a dragon now…" he thought, running his hands across his scaled arms. As his thoughts raced, his scales began to shift, darkening into a matte black. His heart skipped a beat when he realized what was happening. "They changed color..." he muttered "Are they matching my skin... Wait... I'm not that dark am I".
For the first time in his life, Henry could feel it—a warm, invisible force that flowed through his very being. The sensation was overwhelming, like discovering an entire world he had never known existed. As he looked around, he noticed a faint mist-like aura emanating from everything—the ground, the bones of Kaldaryn's corpse, even the air itself. "So this is mana…" he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "This place is brimming with it."
Henry turned his gaze upward, focusing on the faint strand of mana trailing above the cliff he had fallen from. It shimmered faintly, like a thread of light leading him to something important. A grin spread across his face. Cryonus. The name image of the creature popped in his mind, his muscles tensing at the thought of the creature. It wasn't dead—he could tell. The powder had harmed it, but it hadn't killed it. Now, its presence lingered somewhere above, and Henry could feel it.
The thought of revenge ignited something inside him—a burning determination fueled by the power coursing through his veins. "Alright, let's see just what I can do," he muttered to himself as he began to follow the strand of mana. With every step he took, his senses grew sharper, his movements more fluid. It felt like the world itself was bending to him, revealing secrets he could never have comprehended before. For the first time, Henry felt fearless.
The trail of mana led him back to the cliffside, where Cryonus had retreated after their last encounter. The creature was scarred, its pale blue skin marred with burns from the purple dust. Its tentacles writhed weakly, but its eyes glowed with cold malice. The moment it saw Henry, recognition flickered in its gaze, quickly followed by something Henry hadn't expected—fear.
Cryonus hissed, its jagged teeth bared as it raised its clawed hand. Mana swirled around it, forming hundreds of sharp icicles that hovered in the air like a deadly arsenal. With a guttural screech, Cryonus hurled them at Henry, the air freezing as the projectiles screamed toward him.
Henry didn't flinch. The icicles hit him one after another, shattering into harmless shards against his scaled body. It felt like being tapped by rubber balls thrown by a toddler—pathetic. He looked down at himself, his unscathed scales glinting faintly in the light. "So this is what having high DP feels like…" he mused aloud, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I can even see the process of making that magic. Truly… dragons are scary."
Cryonus hissed louder, its fear now palpable as it staggered backward. Henry raised his hand, feeling the mana flow through him effortlessly. He didn't even need to think; the magic responded to his will instinctively. With a simple gesture, he summoned an enormous icicle—a mountain of frozen spears that loomed above Cryonus, casting a shadow over the trembling creature.
The creature screeched in terror, abandoning its futile attempt at resistance. It turned tail and bolted, its tentacles flailing wildly as it fled through the forest. Henry's grin widened. "Not so tough now, huh?" he thought, lowering his hand. The icicle mountain came crashing down with a deafening roar, shaking the ground and splintering trees in every direction. The ruckus echoed for miles, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake.
Henry stood amidst the chaos, his clothes torn and barely hanging on. He ran a hand through his hair, chuckling to himself. "I don't have to fear anything here anymore," he said, his voice filled with newfound confidence. For the first time since arriving in this world, he felt unstoppable.
As Henry walked back toward his cave, he let his thoughts wander. The power he now wielded was extraordinary—terrifying, even. But it came with a price. Kaldaryn's sacrifice weighed heavily on his mind, the dragon's final words echoing in his ears. "You are now my son… and my heir." What did that mean? What had he truly inherited?
Henry couldn't deny that part of him felt grateful. He wasn't just a survivor anymore; he was something far greater. But the other part of him felt reserved, cautious. Kaldaryn's death had transformed this forest into a place of nightmares. Could his newfound power bring about even more chaos? And what of Faelaryn—the Dragon King who had wielded the Lance of Aetheris? Henry had no doubt that this world held dangers far greater than Cryonus.
As he neared the flower field outside his cave, Henry paused. The glowing purple plants swayed gently in the breeze, their presence now almost comforting. But a thought nagged at him—what if the plants harmed him now that he carried magic? He raised his hand, testing his strength once more. With a single swipe, he summoned a gust of wind that tore through the field, scattering the plants like leaves in a storm. The traps, barricades, and makeshift structures he had built were obliterated in an instant, leaving the cave entrance cleared and pristine.
Henry stepped inside, the familiar darkness welcoming him. He freshened up, taking a long shower in his trailer, the water soothing his dirt filled body. As he lay down to rest, his mind raced with possibilities. "I could leave this place now… explore the world. Nothing can stop me anymore." But a small voice in the back of his mind held him back. 'You've inherited more than power, Henry. You've inherited a legacy.'
With that thought lingering, Henry drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body finally at peace.
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