And true enough, the next mont, under the stunned gazes of everyone—especially the dumbfounded Vulkris—the tiny Punto’s body shimred. An ethereal image erged behind it, vast and serpentine: the shadow of an erald-green dragon coiled in the air, its eyes like twin suns. This was no illusion. It was Bhuka, its true form revealed, if only for a glimpse.
Now hovering above the wounded Vulkris, the Punto—no, Bhuka—spoke with a voice that resonated through the forest like rolling thunder.
"For an outsider like you to dare raise your paw against . How impudent."
The air grew heavy as Bhuka opened its tiny mouth again. A swirling orb of darkness ford, impossibly small yet radiating an oppressive weight that made the ground tremble.
BWOOOM.
In an instant, the atmosphere beca suffocating. Mana in the area twisted violently as if the world itself was holding its breath. That tiny, spiraling black sphere- it was a singularity of pure destruction.
Vulkris’ eyes widened. Its molten glow flickered with sudden fear. "No... H-how can this be... Are you... the Primordial Beast Bhuka!?"
Behind the Punto, the image of the massive dragon shimred brighter, scales glistening like erald fire.
Vulkris panicked. "P-please, forgive ... I- I did not know!" Its bloodied head lowered desperately. "Please! I beg you! I will leave the Runewood! I will never return! Just forgive !"
The once-proud fire beast, feared across regions, now bowed like a beaten hound, trembling under the suffocating pressure.
"It is far too late for regret, dog," Bhuka said coldly, and without hesitation, launched the swirling orb toward the kneeling Vulkris.
Even from a distance, the elves felt their hearts stop.
"Everyone, brace yourselves!" Elarya shouted. She could feel the catastrophic power compressed inside that tiny sphere. If it detonated here, the Runewood itself could be erased.
The orb shot forward. Reality around it warped, air ripping apart as it closed the distance to Vulkris.
Then-
POOF!
It vanished.
Just like that, the deadly black hole dissolved into harmless smoke, as though it had never existed.
Gasps echoed from every direction.
Standing atop Vulkris’ bowed head was a man- a middle-aged figure, tall but unassuming, with short, ssy hair and clothes that looked as if they belonged to a wandering carpenter who had not bathed in weeks. Yet his presence radiated a quiet, terrifying strength.
Crimson eyes glowed faintly, like embers in the night.
"Sorry I’m late," the man said casually. "I hope my dog didn’t trouble you."
Lines of divine light shimred above his head, forming a glowing fra that all system-users could read:
Na: VhukaLevel: 98Title: Primordial Beast of True Fla
"Trouble is an understatent," Bhuka snapped, its voice sharp and commanding as it descended effortlessly to the ground, landing like a falling leaf despite the weight of its presence. "You let this mutt run wild for three hundred years before finally showing your face."
The man- Vhuka- stiffened. A flicker of guilt crossed his crimson eyes before he turned his head away, scratching the back of his neck as beads of sweat slid down his temple. "W-won!? Why would I- No, I’ve just been... busy," he stamred. "You know, as a Primordial Beast I have duties. Territories to oversee, matters to manage, responsibilities that demand my attention—"
"Responsibilities?" Bhuka’s erald gaze narrowed like a blade. Its vine-like tendrils bristled as if sensing his evasion. "You an that wasteland you call a territory? Tell , what exactly is there to manage besides sandstorms and drunk dwarves stumbling over ruins?"
A nervous chuckle escaped Vhuka’s throat, forced and uneven. "Y-you know... the usual things that only Primordial Beasts can do. Subjugation, cultivation, maintaining balance- "
"That took you three centuries?" Bhuka cut him off sharply, its tone laced with disbelief. It glanced briefly at the trembling Vulkris beneath them, then snapped its gaze back to Vhuka. "Don’t insult . I’ve been watching this land for a very long ti. I know where you’ve been. Admit it- you’ve been chasing won in my territory."
Vhuka’s shoulders slumped in defeat, the bravado draining out of him like water from a cracked jar. "Alright! Alright!" he blurted, throwing up a hand in surrender. "Yes! Fine! I... might have been distracted."
He dropped onto Vulkris’ massive brow like a sulking child and crossed his arms. "What do you expect from ? My land is nothing but endless sand, ancient ruins, and dwarves too drunk to stand straight. There isn’t a single beautiful woman there! Not one! It’s not fair!"
Bhuka’s vines curled tighter, snapping against the ground like irritated whips. "Do you even know why Mother Kalibu placed you there in the first place?"
"That’s easy," Vhuka said quickly, puffing up with fake pride. "She wanted to focus on cultivating my core!"
"No," Bhuka said flatly. "It’s because you’re a pervert."
The desert dragon in human disguise froze.
Even from a distance, the elves hidden among the trees gasped. So clamped their hands over their mouths, torn between fear and disbelief. Was this really how Primordial Beasts spoke to each other?
In that mont, the two ancient beings didn’t feel like gods of legend. They looked, and sounded, like quarreling siblings.
"Fine! Whatever! You’re right, I got careless," Vhuka muttered, almost sulking. "But I ca, didn’t I?" He leapt down, grabbed Vulkris by its long whiskers, and dragged the massive beast like a scolded pup.
Bhuka’s playful tone vanished. Its glow dimd as it said, "You do realize that because of this ss, our tiline has shifted into the Void Line, don’t you?"
Vhuka froze mid-step. "...The Void Line?" he repeated, blinking. "What was that again? I stopped bothering to look into the futures of my people centuries ago. Prophecies spoil the thrill of living." Half the truth, of course- most of those centuries were spent chasing won rather than cultivating his core.
Bhuka sprang onto his shoulder, its tiny body unusually tense. "The Void Line is a path where even we- Primordial Beasts- are no longer guaranteed survival. I cannot see my future. I cannot see yours. I cannot see anyone’s."
Its vines stilled as its voice dropped into a low, grave warning. "This tiline is unpredictable. Every step from here is a gamble."
But instead of fear, a slow, reckless smile curved Vhuka’s lips. His crimson eyes glead with dangerous amusent.
"Good," he murmured, glancing up at the fractured sky.
"A challenge... I like that."
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