A Dragon?
Nox couldn't believe his eyes. He had to take a few steps closer just to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.
Zul'gor, attracted by his voice, also turned in that direction, his lone eye flashing with a strange light.
anwhile, Nox covered the short distance between him and the dragon. Or, to be more precise—the skeletal remains of what used to be a powerful dragon.
The colossal skeleton stretched over fifty ters in length, its ancient bones forming the remains of a once-mighty beast. It stood in a compromised position, its razor-sharp claws outstretched as if frozen in the act of snatching sothing from the air.
Apart from a few fractures along its ribcage, likely caused by the passage of ti, the skeleton's white bones were surprisingly well-preserved.
Nox walked around the dragon, his sharp eyes gleaming with fascination.
Even in death, the skeletal remains exuded an overwhelming, almost suffocating presence.
He was drawn to it.
This...this aura.
It wasn't just lingering remnants of power—it was as if the very essence of the dragon still clung to its bones, refusing to fade into nothingness.
Nox's fingers twitched. He wanted to touch it, to feel its texture, yet a deep-rooted caution held him back. Would it crumble at the slightest touch?
He narrowed his eyes. How long had this thing been here?
"This creature has quite the history," a deep, aged voice echoed behind him.
Nox heard the soft footfalls of the orc shaman approaching.
Not taking his gaze off the skeleton, he asked in a curious voice, "What history? How did it even get here in the first place? Don't tell you orcs subdued it and kept it here as so kind of trophy."
That would be insane. But then again, considering what he had seen of the orcs' strength, maybe... just maybe...
No.
Nox frowned, dismissing the thought as quickly as it ca.
He had faced Zul'gor in battle, and the shaman was undoubtedly powerful—one of the strongest opponents Nox had ever fought. Perhaps their battle would have been even more challenging if Zul'gor had gone all out.
But even then... subduing a dragon?
The idea was absurd.
An orc defeating a dragon? Even in the countless fiction he had consud, nothing ever depicted such an impossible feat.
At that mont, a low chuckle reached his ears.
"That's impossible." Zul'gor laughed. "If we had been foolish enough to go against it, I fear there wouldn't be an orc settlent for you to take over today."
"I see." Nox stroked his chin, deep in thought. He added: "So that ans... you saw it when it was still alive?"
A flicker of sothing unreadable passed through Zul'gor's eye. He exhaled deeply before nodding.
"I rember," the orc murmured, his voice quieter now. "It feels like yesterday... That day, I felt real terror."
His eye pupil trembled as mories resurfaced, and for the first ti, Nox saw sothing unusual—Zul'gor's body subtly shaking.
Nox's brows lifted slightly. For a battle-hardened orc shaman to react like this... the dragon must have been unimaginably powerful.
Zul'gor took a mont to compose himself before speaking.
"Many years ago, in the first week that we ca to this region, sothing both fascinating and utterly terrifying happened."
Nox scanned his surroundings and spotted a nearby stool. Pulling it closer, he sat down, ready to listen to Zul'gor's story.
---
In a valley filled with lush greenery, where towering trees cast long shadows and a sparse number of beasts road freely, a younger Zul'gor oversaw the construction of their settlent.
At this point, they had just migrated from their forr kingdom and were still in the process of making this land their new ho.
Standing beside Zul'gor was a teenage Borok, his eyes filled with fierce determination as he carefully observed his father's every move.
He needed to pay attention.
Zul'gor had already inford him that in a few weeks, he would be entering seclusion. When that happened, Borok would need to shoulder the responsibility of leading their people.
His fists clenched tightly. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint his father.
Suddenly, a frantic cry tore through the air—
"MONSTERS!!"
Borok's head snapped toward the source of the voice.
Two orcs, whom Zul'gor had sent to scout the surrounding area, ca rushing back, their eyes wide with sheer terror.
"Monster!"
Zul'gor frowned, his grip tightening around his staff. He had sent those two precisely because they were among his bravest warriors. For them to return in such a state... sothing was very wrong.
"What is it?" he demanded, his voice firm.
"Monsters!" one of the orcs gasped, pointing in the direction they had co from.
Zul'gor's frown deepened. The two were trembling so badly that they couldn't even form coherent words—an unnatural sight for any orc.
What could be terrifying enough to shake two of my strongest warriors?
His instincts prickled with unease.
Without wasting ti, he ordered the rest of the orcs to continue their work before breaking into a sprint, following the direction of the terrified scouts.
---
Soon, he reached the edge of the valley, and the mont he laid eyes on what awaited him—
His blood ran cold.
"This... this..." he stamred, his throat suddenly dry.
A primal fear unlike anything he had ever experienced clawed its way up his spine. His every instinct scread at him to run.
To flee.
To get as far away as possible.
But he didn't.
Because despite the sheer terror of the scene before him, there was sothing else—
A twisted sort of beauty.
In the sky, a great chase was unfolding.
Thousands of powerful beings, their forms clad in radiant divine armor, soared through the sky, relentlessly pursuing a lone man who was mounted on...
..A dragon.
***
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