By the next morning, Nyxarion's body had recovered as if nothing had happened. Not a single ache lingered, not even fatigue. Yet his mind was a battlefield he could not escape. No matter how hard he tried, the images returned—bloodless bodies falling, the echo of fear in their final screams, the cold efficiency of the armor.
He had never seen death like that. Never caused it.
His hands shook as he tightened the straps of his cloak. The world felt different now, heavier, as if something invisible had settled on his shoulders. Even the sunlight seemed dull, unable to chase away the shadow gnawing at his thoughts.
Still, he could not stay.
Remaining in the town meant questions. Witnesses. Fear. And fear always bred hunters.
So Nyxarion chose to move forward.
The next town lay beyond the Ashen Pass, where rumors spoke of a creature wreathed in living flame—a Red Fire Dragon, ancient and unchallenged. Some called it a calamity. Others called it a god. To Nyxarion, it was something else entirely.
An answer.
If monsters truly existed in this world, then he needed to know where he stood among them.
As he stepped onto the road, the black armor shifted faintly beneath his clothes, as if aware of his resolve. Nyxarion swallowed, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.
Whether he sought redemption, understanding, or ruin, he did not know.
But the fire of the dragon awaited—and so did the truth about what he was becoming.
Nyxarion finally reached Ember Fall, a town built on the edge of smoldering cliffs, where the scent of sulfur lingered in the air and molten streams glinted in the sunlight. The town was alive with adventurers and merchants, each face worn with purpose or greed. Despite his exhaustion and mental turmoil, Nyxarion knew he needed answers—and maybe some allies.
He made his way to the Adventurer's Guild, a towering structure of black stone and red banners, its doors always open to those seeking work, fame, or danger. Inside, the air buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the occasional clinking of weapons.
Before he could even glance at the notice board, a group approached him.
A knight in gleaming armor, a mage with robes that shimmered like embers, and a massive tank wielding a shield taller than most men stopped in front of him.
"Hey there," the knight said, smiling in a way that tried to mask suspicion. "You look… capable. We could use someone like you."
The mage chimed in, voice light but sharp: "We're heading to the Red Fire Dragon's lair. It's dangerous. But—honestly—we think you'd fit in well."
Nyxarion remained silent, studying them. He could sense no lies—but then again, he could never fully trust anyone's intentions.
"We leave at dawn," the tank added gruffly. "If you want in, you should decide soon."
Over the next hour, as they sat in a corner of the guild, they shared small stories—trials they had overcome, monsters they had faced, and the danger that awaited them at the volcano. Slowly, they tried to draw Nyxarion out, probing his reactions, gauging his interest.
"By the way," the mage said, leaning forward, eyes gleaming, "have you heard about the rising prodigies appearing across the four corners of the continent? Young warriors, mages, and tanks showing exceptional power."
Nyxarion shook his head. "No… I haven't. Were you living on a mountain peak or something?" he muttered dryly, unable to hide his bewilderment.
The knight chuckled. "Something like that. But their appearances are becoming… notable. People are saying a great shift is coming. The continent may never be the same again."
Nyxarion's thoughts drifted to the events of the inn—the massacre, the armor, the raw power he couldn't yet control. Rising prodigies, shifting continents… he wondered, not for the first time, where he fit into all of this.
When dawn came, the party set out toward the volcano's lair, the ground trembling faintly beneath their boots. Along the winding paths, the air grew hotter, and the smell of sulfur intensified. Their conversations continued—warnings, predictions, and theories—but Nyxarion mostly listened, silent, calculating, and watching.
The path ahead was dangerous, but the fire that awaited was not just the dragon—it was the unknown force rising across the lands, a power he might yet confront.