Auryn stumbled out of the ruins. His legs barely held. Every muscle scread. His ribs felt pierced with each breath.
He turned. Looked back at the broken archway. The silent chamber beyond where he almost lost his life.
I did it. I survived
His hands throbbed. Burned palms wrapped around themselves. The blade was stored away now—thank whatever gods were listening—but the pain remained.
The sky stretched above. Dusky. Twilight colors bleeding across clouds. Orange hue sared the scenery.
Evening.
"Sa as when I entered." He smiled.
Relief cut through the exhaustion.
Four hours. Maybe five. Fast. Efficient.
He’d navigated every trap perfectly. Novel knowledge paying off. No wasted energy on failures.
The golem fight had been brutal. Nearly killing him. But he’d won.
And the transformation...
His eyes dropped to his forearms. Scars visible even through blood and ash. Small lines where scales had erupted. Permanent marks.
"I transford. Actually transford." He spoke. The thought of it still felt unreal. In the books it was one of the coolest things for a reader. But in reality, it had quite hefty prices.
He sighed.
I’m still on schedule. Two days to the council. Plenty of ti.
A grim smile crossed his face despite the pain. Maybe I’m too good at this. He thought.
---
He pulled himself fully upright and made his way to his horse.
She waited where he’d left her. Nervous. Ears flat. The animal slled sothing wrong on him now.
His dragon scent. His re-awakened aura.
He limped toward it. Each step deliberate and a single goal in mind.
Just as he got close to his stead. The countdown flickered in his peripheral vision. He’d been ignoring it but now checked out of habit.
[TI REMAINING: 48:03:17]
His lingering smile disappeared.
"Huh?"
He stopped walking. Stared at the golden numbers.
"Forty-eight hours?"
When he’d entered, there had been... what? He tried to rember. The ruins approach. The tir then.
"Seventy-four hours. Maybe seventy-three."
His mind calculated automatically. Architect’s precision.
74 minus 48 equals...
Twenty-six hours.
"Twenty-six hours?" His breath caught.
I was inside for twenty-six hours?
"Impossible."
The journey and fight lasted four hours. Five at most. He’d tracked it ntally. Navigating through the traps and find the chamber. Then Combat and everything else.
Five hours. Maximum.. He spoke inwardly.
Not twenty-six.
Unless...
His eyes moved back to the ruins. The ash-gray sky hanging above them. The oppressive silence that even birds avoided.
Ti.
The word settled in his mind like a stone dropping in water. Ripples spreading.
Ti moves differently here.
It was stated in the novel. Places where gods clashed. Ancient battlefields. Had their realities warped. Ti, space and gravity distorted.
In this case, it was ti. Ti dilated. Four hours subjective. Twenty-six hours objective.
A ratio of... six to one? Seven to one? It didn’t matter. He’d lost a full day to this miscalculation.
Auryn shook his head..
No wonder the hero’s party struggled in the original story. They didn’t just fight the Sentinel. They fought ti itself.
And he’d walked in blind, confident and stupid. He gave off a self depreciating laugh.
His legs gave out at the realization. He sat hard on broken stone. Dust puffed around him.
Forty-eight hours remaining. Two days.
The journey here took a day and a half.
Return journey? Sa. Maybe faster if he didn’t sleep. But arriving exhausted. Wounded and useless.
Smart, Auryn. Real smart!
He laughed bitterly. Mocking himself while clutching his aching ribs.
The ruins behind him offered no answers. Just silent judgnt.
---
Auryn took another deep breath and forced himself up. Wincing slightly.
I can’t stay here. Every minute counts now.
He stumbled to his horse. The animal shifted away nervously.
"Easy girl " His voice was rough. Throat dry. "It’s still ."
"Mostly..."
He grabbed the reins. The horse settled reluctantly. Pulled down his saddlebag. Supplies. Water. Bandages.
He sat on a flat rock. Started with his hands.The burns were severe. Palm skin blistered and blackened.
Cinderfang’s initial rejection and Anti-dragon properties doing the number on him.
He unwrapped the crude bandages from the golem fight. Poured water over his palms.
He hissed through his teeth and cleaned the worst of the blood and char.
He applied new and clean bandages.
Next were his forearms. Several scars could be seen from the earlier transformation. Small parallel lines where scales had erupted.
He traced one with a finger. It felt permanent. Like a part of him forever.
"I’m marked." He whispered "This is what I am now.’
Neither human nor fully dragon.The partial transformation was a sensation he couldn’t fully fathom yet but in ti he would.
He pulled dried at from the bag. he bit through it. Struggling as he swallowed. He didn’t have appetite but this was necessary for his journey.
After drinking water to bring down the at. He sat motionless. Allowing his body recover as much as it could.
Exhaustion pulled at him. his eyelids fighting to stay open. The compounding exhaustion of the journey and the transformation wasn’t sothing he could just ignore.
I’ll rest. An hour. Maybe two.
He needed the rest. Otherwise he arrives exhausted and that was equal to been useless at the council. His brothers will exploit that weakness. Better to rest now. Arrive a bit sharper.
But every minute felt like sand slipping through fingers.
Fine. One hour. No more.
He lay back on the stone. Stared at the darkening sky and allowed his eyes close.
Slowly his churning mind drifted into calmness. Though the pains remained but he allowed his body lt for the first ti.
An hour passed. Maybe even more. It was hard to tell. He slowly opened his eyes. Sat up feeling his energy rejuvenated even though his body was far from recovered.
He stood and stared back at the ruins. Its prized possession Cinderfang had been stored away.
He’d done it instinctively after the fight. Wounded hands couldn’t hold burning steel. So he needed to find another way.
He focused inwardly, searching for the connection. He found it like a golden thread in his mind.
Leading... sowhere...
Gates of Avarice.
The System had said sothing about it. He’d barely processed it through the pain but reached ntally. Pulled the golden thread and reality tore.
A golden circular ripple appeared beside him with edges shimring with draconic scripts.
Through it was a void. Not darkness but a space that shouldn’t exist and within this space. Cinderfang hovered. It’s violet flas casting nacing shadows.
He reached in carefully. Hand sliding through the gates without any resistance.
His fingers closed around the hilt.
Careful—
The pain returned. The blade still burned and rejected him. But a lot bearable now than when he was in his partial transformation form earlier.
He pulled it out through the portal that remained open. Examining the blade properly for the first ti.
The beauty of the blade was sothing that always left him in awe. The edges were sharp enough to cut down concepts.
He pushed it back through.
The blade followed without resistance. Floating in the void. Waiting.
The portal closed with a soft sound. Like a door shutting in another room.
Incredible.
He tested it again. Summoned. Dismissed. Summoned. Each ti cost sothing. A pull on his reserves.
It didn’t siphon much. Just enough to make the each use worth it. He let it rest stored. Hands too damaged to wield it properly anyways.
But knowing he could call it instantly... that was sothing no one in the novel had. Atleast it was never shown.
He finally mounted his horse. The animal still nervous but accepting. Spurred it west. Toward the capital. His mories allowed him navigate.
The sun fully set as the stars erged under the watchful light of the moon.
He rode for hours. The road stretched endlessly. Empty. Just him, the horse and the countdown.
[TI REMAINING: 46:12:09]
Less than two days. He pushed harder.
But the horse protested after soti. He eased up. Killing the animal with too much work wasn’t helping anyone.
What am I becoming? The question had no answer but still tugged at his mind.
Nothing was certain except the fact He’d changed.
Permanently.
Scars proved it. The way his horse reacted proved it. The way Cinderfang burned his hands proved it.
He’d fully awakened his dragon blood now and not just Auryn’s inherited contract.
Sothing deeper.
Ignaris’s legacy. The Dragon God himself.
The thought should’ve terrified him but his mindset had already shifted. Instead... he was determined.
I’ll use it. Whatever I’m becoming. I’ll use it to survive and succeed.
Midnight ca and went. The countdown ticked. Reminding him omniously.
[TI REMAINING: 42:08:34]
He didn’t stop. Night slowly faded. He pushed the warhorse to its limits.
The eastern horizon lightened. Dawn was here. Auryn’s body scread for rest. He ignored it.
The road continued west after scaling and descending into a shallow valley. Then rising again toward distant mountains.
And on the road below—
A figure. Walked alone.
Even at this distance—maybe half a mile—Auryn felt sothing was wrong.
No. Not wrong.
Different.
Author’s Eyes activated automatically. The world shifted. Colors blood. And the figure below blazed.
A pure golden aura blinding him.
Brighter than anything Auryn had ever seen till now. Brighter than Borin’s silver. Brighter than Lyra’s yellow.
Gold.
The sun crested fully behind Auryn. Light spilled across the valley. And Illuminated the figure ahead.
Golden text materialized on his side.
══════════════════════════
[THE THREAD OF FATE CONVERGES]
[GOLD ETS CRIMSON ON THE ROAD OF KINGS]
[PROTAGONIST DETECTED: NIKA CROWLEY]
══════════════════════════
The Hero.
Walking the sa road. Sa direction.
Of course. The council. He’d be summoned too. Or going to investigate sothing.
The figure hadn’t turned. Hadn’t noticed him yet. Just approaching with a steady pace.
Everything the stories said. Everything the novel described.
The protagonist.
And Auryn—sitting on his exhausted horse, wounded, scarred, carrying stolen power—
The villain.
The golden aura pulsed. Like a heartbeat. Like destiny itself made visible.
Auryn stared.
Dawn light. Golden aura. The road ahead.
All converging.
So it begins... His thoughts scread.
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