Leon sat atop an unconscious black dragon like a man resting after a long day’s work. The beast’s body was broken, wings torn, scales cracked and bleeding, but its chest still rose and fell weakly beneath him. His right hand rested lazily on his knee while his left gripped Void Blade, the obsidian katana buried deep in the dragon’s torso.
The clearing around him looked like a battlefield. Dozens of dragons, each at rank seven, lay sprawled across the jagged terrain. So groaned faintly; most didn’t move at all. Their once-glorious wings were mangled, their armor-like scales dented or shattered. And in the middle of it all sat Leon, his face calm and expressionless and his tattered shirt fluttering in the mountain breeze. His clothes were in ruins, barely clinging to his fra, yet his skin was flawless. Every cut and burn he’d taken had long since healed.
He tilted his head slightly, feeling the cool wind brush against his face. Then he heard it—flap... flap... flap...—a deeper, heavier rhythm than the rest.
Leon’s lips curved faintly. "It’s about ti."
The clouds above parted, revealing a colossal red dragon descending like a burning teor. Its scales glowed with molten light, wings cutting through the air with enough force to shake the valley. As it landed, a shockwave of dust and heat rolled outward. Flas spiraled around the creature before collapsing inward and from them stepped a man.
Eragon, Lord of the Dragon Mountains.
His long crimson hair fell behind him like living fire, and the pressure rolling off him was suffocating. He looked at the destruction before him, at the dozens of defeated dragons, and finally at the young human sitting casually on one of them.
His voice ca out low but thunderous. "Boy... what is this?"
Leon didn’t move. "Your lordship." he said evenly, "I ca here for so training. I believe the emperor already inford you." He gestured around him, his tone carrying a faint edge. "But it seems I wasn’t very welco."
Eragon’s eyes flicked to the fallen dragons, realization and fury mixing behind his gaze. The emperor had inford him, but he hadn’t passed the ssage down to the patrol. Although intentional that was his mistake. Still, Leon could’ve just said his na, any sane dragon on patrol would’ve at least hesitated since it was Leon. He narrowed his eyes. "What are you playing at, boy?"
Leon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "What do you an?"
Eragon’s composure cracked. His aura exploded outward, the mountain trembling under the weight of his presence. "You know what I an! Just saying your na would’ve been enough to grant you entry! And none of this—" he motioned to the field of defeated dragons "—would have happened if that was the case!"
Leon didn’t even flinch under the pressure. His voice stayed calm, that it almost seed curious. "And how do you know I didn’t tell them my na?"
The question hit Eragon like a blow. His eyes widened, his thoughts racing. ’He told them? But then why did the report say nothing of it? Why would the patrol attack if they knew—’
Leon’s voice cut through his thoughts again, this ti carrying that infuriatingly calm tone. "Wait..." he said as if genuinely trying to recall. "Did I tell them my na?"
A vein pulsed in Eragon’s temple. For a mont, he could only stare at the human who sat there as if the mountain wasn’t shaking beneath a rank nine’s wrath. His killing intent flared, sharp and violent.
Leon’s gaze stayed steady. On the surface, he looked relaxed, even careless but inside, his thoughts were cold and precise.
’Just a few more minutes.’
The plan was in motion.
****
A clone of Leon moved silently through the dark corridors of the Dragon Palace, its steps swallowed by shadow. The clone’s body, woven from void essence, flickered faintly like smoke given form, its presence erased by the sa power that birthed it. In its hand, the clone carried a small pearl, its surface pulsing with a dim, rhythmic light that throbbed against its palm.
Leon had dispatched it the mont Greg, the blue dragon, launched his attack. While the original faced the battlefield outside, the clone slipped into the palace unseen. Its concealnt wasn’t just stealth, it was erasure. The void spawn’s nature allowed it to cancel itself from perception, an ability that had even fooled even rank 9 beings. Back at the council, Leon had needed to unleash his full aura just to prove his power to the rulers.
Eragon himself did not notice the clone as he flew towards Leon.
That was proof enough.
If a rank 9 Lord couldn’t detect it, then no other would.
Still, the clone moved with caution. Eragon would definitely have left behind traps and detectors and the clone needed to act fast before the dragon Lord returned. That is why Leon stayed back to make sure the Lord himself stayed distracted.
Because the true goal wasn’t to fight dragons—it was to retrieve a captive.
Elizabeth.
Leon’s mind had pieced the puzzle together back at the council but was still not so sure at that ti. But the pearl, the one now glowing in the clone’s hand was the confirmation he needed.
Each mber of Unit 1 had received one from the Governor before entering the Trial World. They were ant as disciplinary tools for Eleanor. Yet the Governor, in his usual foresight, had embedded a secondary function into them: a proximity tracker. When two pearls drew near, they pulsed.
The one in Leon’s palm was pulsing now.
Which ant his clone was close.
And that Elizabeth was sowhere inside this palace.
****
As the clone slipped through the dim marble halls, it halted before a section of the palace wall. The pearl in its palm was pulsing harder now, its rhythm sharp enough to be felt through the clone’s incorporeal form.
Elizabeth was behind that wall.
The clone tilted its head slightly, scanning the seamless structure. Their was no entrance or archway, just dense draconic stone, layered with mana that shimred faintly in the dark. There was no normal way through. But Leon had planned for that.
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