Within the dark space, Indura slowly opened his eyes.
He let out a quiet sigh. "I'm back here again…"
The endless void surrounded him — no floor beneath his feet, no ceiling above, only perfect, patient darkness that felt like it had been waiting for him.
The True Self stood a short distance away, a matured mirror of Indura. Deep crimson scale armor covered his body, arms folded across his chest, golden eyes steady and calm.
The True Self spoke softly. "Come. Sit. We can use this time to talk."
Indura walked over and sat down, crossing his legs. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was strangely comforting after the violence he had just left behind.
The True Self finally broke it. "You fought well."
Indura gave a weak laugh. "Did I? I got killed."
"You did indeed die," the True Self said gently. "But it is only for now."
Indura looked at his hands, remembering the feeling of the hammer strike, the pain, the way his body had failed him. "I thought about the castle… how long I waited for it. For once, I actually looked forward to something. And now it's gone."
The True Self nodded, listening without interruption.
Indura continued, voice quieter. "I thought about Syphon, too. The way she told me not to look down on any small life in this world. Even though I'm like this… I should also consider them as myself." He paused. "I wish I could at least see her...and tell her that I didn't understand what she said."
The True Self's expression softened. "Again...You won't stay dead for long. But before that… let's talk. You have carried no purpose for six hundred years. You drifted. You watched. You found small things interesting and then moved on. That is not wrong. But in times like this, even a slight goal can be enough to change everything."
Indura leaned back slightly. "A purpose?… I never needed one before. The mountain was enough. The castle felt like it could be enough. Now both are gone."
"True. But you may change," the True Self said. "The journey ahead is long, and with it, roots of purpose begin to sprout even when you aren't aware of it. You might even become someone different from the dragon who drifted through Varta. You might find things you never cared about before. You might even learn to care deeply. That is the risk… and the gift."
Indura was quiet for a while, letting the words settle.
The True Self continued. "Varta had its moments. The vendor's smile. The child's endless talking. The old emperor's quiet strength. But this world was never meant to hold you well. Your clash with the sky warriors has already brought it harm. Staying here would only bring more."
Indura stared into the void. "So going to Chaos… is that what you're trying to tell me?"
The True Self admitted it quietly. "It is your home. Where you come from. A world that can handle your true power and nature."
Indura sighed. "A world of mystery. I would have to start all over again. Who knows, I might even break loose."
The True Self smiled. "True. Your presence will be noticed and eventually turned into stories by people to warn each other. But before that, there is something you need to know."
Indura sat up straighter.
The True Self's expression grew more serious. "To awaken your cores, you would need areas of vast mana — like Chaos. Each one works differently and brings out their own aspect."
Indura nodded. "I already know."
"Not all cores have the same awakening conditions," the True Self said. "Out of the six, one needs a different condition to awaken."
Indura leaned forward. "What is it?"
The True Self remained quiet for a long moment. Then he spoke.
"One of your cores required you to die...to awaken."
Indura fell silent.
The True Self continued carefully. "Death was a requirement for that core alone. But it wasn't meant to be awakened first. It was at least meant for the future, when your body is mature enough."
Indura asked quietly, "So I actually get to beat death? Which core is this? And how does it work?"
The True Self looked up into the darkness, then turned the question back on him.
"What will you do when you acquire great power?"
Indura answered without hesitation. "I would wipe out the Sky Palace first, then…"
The True Self smiled faintly. "You wouldn't know what to do next."
He moved closer. "I will awaken that core for you. But when I do, you have to leave Varta… and never come back."
Indura was stunned. "Why would you demand such? You know that I have a life here."
The True Self's voice was firm but not unkind. "Varta cannot handle power from the Middle Realm. It would bring ruin to this smaller world. Besides, you wouldn't have much time anyway. Your body would require hibernation for the core to settle fully. You must not step back here again, or else you will face causality."
'"Hibernation? For how long?"
'"...Ten years...at most," true self admitted, "So you would need to finish the battle outside quickly...before a gate opens in the sky."
Indura sighed, "Ten years. That long?"
"Did you forget what you are?... This is a process dragons must go through. By the end of it, you will feel more refreshed than you will be in a moment."
Indura thought of Syphon. The idea of never seeing her again settled heavily in his chest.
The True Self seemed to sense it. "Syphon would still be fine. She would want this for you anyway. After all, she didn't raise a weak dragon."
Indura stood up slowly. He took a big breath and exhaled. He looked at the True Self for a long moment. "Ten years...huh!"
The True Self smiled, as if he already knew the answer. "You have decided."
He walked forward until they stood face to face. With a gentle but commanding tone, he said:
"Awaken, Red Dragon."
The battlefield was the same. The dark woman continued her slow, deliberate steps, one by one, as her body slowly crumbled away.
Suddenly, she stopped mid-step, her foot hovering just above the ground. Her eyes widened. Her long, dark purple hair levitated as if caught in an invisible storm.
Red aura — smooth yet violently alive — rose from above her like liquid fire.
She turned around in an instant, a wide, predatory grin spreading across her fracturing face.
There, crouched before the lifeless body of Asterdolf, was Indura.
He was breathing again. His armored form had vanished, leaving only the familiar humanoid shape in noble clothing. One hand rested gently on Asterdolf's shoulder.
"Old man…" he called in a low, quiet tone. "Old man…"
He paused.
"I see."
Indura carefully laid Asterdolf's body flat on the ground. His expression had dimmed of light, only his golden eyes glowing bright, making his face look like a silhouette carved from shadow.
He stood up slowly and touched Drake's handle. He looked at the sword with cold eyes, then turned away, leaving it pulsing with a faint red aura.
The woman began walking toward him, her body breaking down faster now. She laughed — loud, wild, as if she had discovered lost treasure.
"Are you a king?" she asked, voice ringing with delight. "How did I not realize what was standing before me all this time? A being of such scale… in this small world?"
Her legs cracked and broke apart. She fell to her knees, her stomach fracturing and crumbling, but none of it concerned her. Her focus remained entirely on the figure in front of her.
Gravity pushed her body down harder, forcing her to look up, as she resisted the pressure.
Indura walked before her and stopped, looking down with cold golden eyes filled with quiet dissatisfaction.
The woman's smile faded. Her voice turned icy. "Do not dare look down on me. You will regret it."
Indura only continued to look down. Their eyes remained locked.
The air was thick with dark purple and red aura, twisting and clashing around them like living storms.
The woman laughed again — cold, sharp, excited. "I understand now. It is clear. It seems...as if things are about to become interesting after a long time."
Her eyes widened with manic energy. "You...Come to Chaos. You must come here. You have no right to remain in this small world."
Her left eye cracked and broke apart. Then her nose. Then her lips.
"I will be waiting," she continued, voice distorting as pieces of her face crumbled. "I will not rest until you have set foot in Chaos...I will be here."
Indura remained silent, watching her.
She kept speaking, even as her mouth cracked and broke off. "I will make sure to take away those eyes of yours… that dare look down on me."
Her body continued to crumble faster, until its crumbled away, chunks weathering into the wind like ash.
The dark clouds began to clear. Light slowly returned. The lightning ceased. The violent storms calmed. The eclipse had already ended, leaving only the soft rays of the evening sun.
The dark aura was gone. Only the red remained.
Indura still stood there.
He looked at his hands — perfectly fine. Then at his chest — fully recovered. He glanced ahead and noticed Drune and Syphon on the ground.
He called out to them, voice carrying unexpected weight. "Syphon. Drune."
Drune and Syphon dared not look up. They could not recognize the presence before them — it was no longer the Indura they knew.
Syphon kept repeating in her mind, I can't breathe… I can't move… if I look ahead, I will die.
Drune stared at the ground, I shouldn't look up… I might die… I can't escape.
They both closed their eyes in terror as the red aura moved through them, instilling fear deep into their bones.
Indura walked over and gently laid Asterdolf's body in front of them.
His aura crushed the air itself. He noticed Drune and Syphon trembling on their knees.
"Why aren't you looking at me?" he asked, voice calm but heavy. "I won. I beat the sky warriors."
Drune and Syphon remained silent.
Indura looked at himself, realizing his aura was spilling everywhere. He exhaled slowly. The red aura retreated back into him.
He crouched down before the two grandmasters. "I'm sorry about what happened… about Asterdolf's..."
He called out to them again. "Why won't you look at me?"
Syphon clenched her fists. She forced herself to look up.
Her body trembled violently. When her eyes met Indura's, they widened in horror.
She could only see a silhouette — sharp golden eyes and flowing crimson hair. It was like staring into darkness itself.
Blood poured from her eyes.
She lowered her head immediately.
Drune stayed silent, still facing at the ground, breathing shallow and fast.
Indura remained crouched, looking at them both with quiet understanding.
The evening sun bathed the ruined battlefield in soft, golden light.
Indura stood up slowly, his body still humming with the aftershocks of awakening.
He stared at the evening sky, the soft orange and purple hues bleeding together like a final goodbye. A deep weariness settled over him. His legs staggered slightly as sleepiness crept in, his eyelids growing heavy.
Hibernation… he thought. The True Self mentioned it. The awakened core needs time to settle. I can feel it pulling at me already.
He looked down at the two grandmasters kneeling before him. Syphon and Drune remained silent, heads bowed, trembling under the weight of his presence.
Indura's voice was quiet, almost gentle. "Ever since I arrived here on Varta… I used to feel like it was all I needed to live. The times I ran into villages, disrupted the elves' gatherings, flying through the clouds… I treasured those moments. The days you would tell me stories of this world."
He stepped away briefly, his crimson hair catching the last rays of sunlight.
"I was thankful," he continued. "And I'm sorry you had to put up with my existence in this world."
Indura turned back toward Syphon. "Syphon...I'm sorry for making you cry."
Syphon forced herself to look up, her bleeding eyes opening just enough. Tears streamed down her face as she thought, Oh… Indura… I'm sorry, I cannot look at you…
Indura gazed around at what had become of the lands — shattered, destroyed, a wasteland of broken stone and ash. Steam rose from craters. Gusts of wind brushed across the surface, carrying the sharp smell of scorched earth.
"I understand now," he murmured to himself. "...So this is what I leave behind."
Above them, the empire hung suspended above ground, its golden aura flickering as it slowly stabilized.
Julius stood on a broken section of the wall, looking up at the sky. Father… please be alright. You managed to keep the empire alive.
He gathered his mana, coating himself in bright light energy, and launched himself through the gap in the wall, descending like a small shooting star.
Indura noticed the light. He recognized the presence and smiled faintly, then let it fade.
He turned back to Syphon and Drune. "I will leave Varta… and never return."
Syphon forced herself to look up again, opening her eyes gently. Her vision remained blurry, but she could clearly see the flowing crimson hair under the evening light.
She had no words. Only the thought: Indura… you called my name right.
Indura smiled softly. He slowly turned to walk away, his voice carrying over the wind. "Now then...take care of each other."
Syphon's lips trembled. She finally spoke, her voice low and broken.
"Indura—"
The word didn't finish.
A crack formed in the sky. Then another. And another. Cracks spread in every direction like breaking glass.
Silence.
Then the sky finally split open.
A hole tore through reality itself. Foreign pressure rolled in like a storm. The winds became violent. Stones cracked and weathered. Rocks levitated as the air itself seemed to scream.
Indura walked forward, hands clasped behind his back, a calm smile on his face. He looked up at the gate.
"It's really time to go," he murmured. "I wonder what my next life is going to be."
Winds roared across the lands, sweeping rocks and dirt into the air. Drune quickly raised a small barrier around himself and Syphon.
The two grandmasters looked up at the sky, sensing energies they had never felt before — possibilities beyond their comprehension.
Just then, Julius landed before them.
He hit the ground hard, panting from the desperate descent, light magic still flickering around his body. His eyes immediately fell on the fallen corpse of his father.
His breathing spiked. He dropped to his knees, hyperventilating.
"No… no no no no no…" he whispered, voice breaking. "This can't be…"
He crawled forward and placed trembling hands on Asterdolf's chest, as if trying to will life back into the still body.
"Father…" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "Father, please… wake up…"
In the distance, Indura saw everything. He turned away quietly, saying nothing.
Drune and Syphon remained kneeling, unable to speak. The weight of the moment pressed down on them like the sky itself.
Julius wiped his tears with the back of his hand, took several deep, shaky breaths, and gently lifted his father's body into his arms. The weight felt impossibly heavy.
He turned toward the distance, where Indura stood alone in the dying storm.
"Indura!" he called out, voice raw with grief and confusion.
The next moment, his eyes widened in pure horror.
Indura transformed right there.
Massive claws formed from red energy. Scales surged outward. Wings unfurled with a thunderous snap. Horns formed, and spikes rose along his shoulders. In seconds, a full 5000-foot crimson dragon towered before them, casting a colossal shadow that swallowed the battlefield.
Julius dropped to his knees again, still cradling his father, staring up at the beast that had once threatened to destroy his kingdom when its castle was unfinished.
Memories flooded his mind — the casual conversations, the stolen kitchen raids, the quiet moments when Indura had seemed almost… human.
He chuckled through his tears, a broken, fearful sound.
This whole time… Father was right…
Indura looked down at Julius. A faint smile formed across his massive jaws.
"Make sure your empire thrives well," he said, voice deep and resonant, carrying across the ruined land. "Become the strongest emperor. When I return… I expect nothing less."
Indura thought to himself, Of course I won't return… but this much is fine.
The words hit Julius like a physical blow. He stared in shock, unable to respond.
Indura's gaze shifted to the floating empire, then back to Asterdolf's body. He smiled faintly in his mind, acknowledging the old man's strength.
The strongest human I have ever met...perhaps in the next life... No...
Indura spread his enormous wings. Each beat carried tremendous weight, blowing rocks and dust away in violent gusts as he rose into the air.
He lifted off toward the clouds, flying straight toward the cracking gate in the sky. A wide, genuine grin formed on his jaw.
"I'm coming," he murmured. "I will find you."
Down below, Drune and Syphon watched in silence. Tears fell from Syphon's eyes as she whispered, "Live nice life, Indura… I will miss you."
They watched as the massive dragon flew into the gate and was absorbed into it.
Syphon finally let it all out. She cried openly, shoulders shaking.
Drune placed his arms around her, holding her tight.
Julius sat still on the ground, still cradling his father. Tears ran freely down his face.
Suddenly, the great sword Drake pulsed continuously with energy. It pulled itself out of the ground, spinning slowly before pointing straight at the gate above.
Running footsteps echoed.
Drune turned. A small boy was sprinting toward the sword.
"Stop!" Drune shouted.
But Jin kept running with everything his small body had.
He lunged at Drake as the sword lifted off the ground, gripping the handle tightly.
The sword didn't resist him. As if… it had been waiting. It rose, taking him with it.
Jin looked down at the surface as he was carried higher. It was too late to let go.
He laughed out loud — bright, fearless, full of wonder.
The grandmasters could only watch as the sword passed through the gate. The cracks on the edges began to pull inward, twisting and shrinking, until the portal disappeared completely.
The battle had ended. The gate vanished.
And the world… was finally allowed to breathe again.