Chapter 60: Lord of All Dragons

The sanctuary of the Azure Scale was not just a village; it was a fortress of living art.

As Leon was ushered through the gates by the trembling, reverent Dragonkin guards, the sheer density of the High-Tier Realm’s ambient mana washed over him. The cobblestone paths were lined with glowing, bioluminescent flora that reacted to his presence, blooming into radiant shades of silver and gold as he walked past.

Every Dragonkin they passed, blacksmiths, weavers, warriors, and children, dropped to their knees, bowing their horned heads in absolute submission to the Vanguard of Humanity.

Leon kept his expression perfectly neutral, projecting the calm, infallible aura of a divine savior. Internally, he was still wrestling with the sheer absurdity of it all. Only a few weeks ago, he was bedridden on Earth, staring at a sterile ceiling. Now, eight-foot-tall reptilian warriors in silver armor were parting like the Red Sea for him, and he had to fight down the faint, disbelieving urge to laugh at just how far that ceiling now felt.

Elder Vaelen, the ancient Dragonkin who had greeted him at the gate, led the way. His deep blue and gold robes trailed over the smooth stones, his carved wooden staff clicking rhythmically with every step.

"O Chosen Hero," Elder Vaelen said, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that echoed in the quiet village. "We have waited for generations. The ancient prophecies etched into the World Pillar spoke of a being who would breach the sealed Boundary Gate, untouched by the crushing weight of the Expanse. We are honored beyond words to host you."

"The honor is mine, Elder," Leon replied smoothly, keeping his voice even and measured. "Your sanctuary is beautiful. But I sense a shadow hanging over it. You speak of prophecies and waiting. Waiting for what, exactly?"

Vaelen’s reptilian eyes clouded with a profound, ancient sorrow. "We shall discuss the encroaching dark, Chosen Hero. But first, you have crossed the spatial threshold. Your mortal vessel must be weary. You must be entertained, and you must feast. The Azure Scale does not offer empty hands to the Goddess’s chosen."

Leon didn’t argue. Perfect Body kept his physical fatigue at bay, but the mental exhaustion of slaughtering his way through the borderlands was very real, a dull, persistent weight he had almost forgotten he was still carrying.

He was led to the central pavilion of the village, a massive, open-air structure built from polished mahogany and sweeping sapphire-crystal roofs. The hospitality of the Dragonkin was overwhelming. They didn’t just offer him food; they offered him a culinary experience that was truly peerless.

Leon was seated at the head of a massive, intricately carved table. Before him, the villagers placed platters of exotic, mana-infused delicacies. There were cuts of Spiced Leviathan meat that melted on the tongue, radiating a warm, comforting heat that instantly restored anything that may need restoring. There were glowing, translucent fruits that tasted like spun sugar and ozone, and heavy silver goblets filled with Aether-wine, a rich, deep purple vintage that hummed with pure energy against his palm even before he took the first sip.

As Leon ate, he felt the heavy, High-Tier mana of the food interacting with his system.

Ding!

[Notice: Consuming High-Density Mana Cuisine.]

[Your base Constitution and Intelligence receive a temporary 10% buff for the next 24 hours.]

He drank the Aether-wine, letting the rich, burning liquid slide down his throat. The Dragonkin dancers performed around the pavilion, their movements a fluid, mesmerizing display of martial arts and elemental magic, weaving ribbons of fire and water through the air to the rhythmic beating of heavy leather drums. It was a beautiful, vibrant display of a culture that the system had generated with terrifying realism, one that left Leon, despite everything, genuinely reluctant to look away.

When the feast finally wound down and the dancers retreated, Elder Vaelen took a seat beside Leon. The ancient Dragonkin’s expression turned grim.

"You asked what we were waiting for, Chosen Hero," Vaelen began, his voice dropping to a solemn whisper. "We were waiting for salvation from the Void Mist."

Leon set his silver goblet down, his eyes flaring slightly. "I’ve encountered void energy before. In the lower sectors. Abyssal constructs, spatial anomalies."

"What you faced were merely ripples," Vaelen said, shaking his head slowly. "The Void Mist is the tide. It is a creeping, sentient fog of pure, absolute nothingness that gathers in the upper atmospheric layers of the Prismatic Expanse. It does not just corrupt; it erases. When the mist descends, it forms Void Mist Beasts, monstrosities born of pure entropy that devour the very mana of our world."

Vaelen gestured toward the distant, towering peaks visible beyond the village walls.

"The origin of the mist lies deep within the Shattered Crags. But the terrain is fractured. The mist suspends itself high above the ground, hovering over bottomless chasms of chaotic gravity. It is unreachable on foot. Any warrior who attempts to cross the crags is swallowed by the fog and turned into a beast of the Void."

Leon leaned back in his chair, his mind rapidly processing the layout. "If it’s unreachable on foot, and the gravity is chaotic, then aerial traversal is the only option. I have wind manipulation. I can fly."

"With respect, Chosen Hero, wind magic alone will not pierce the Void Mist," Vaelen countered gently. "The mist devours ambient magic. Your spells will unravel the deeper you fly. To reach the heart of the anomaly, one needs a vessel born of the Expanse itself. A creature whose very soul is anchored to the raw mana of Sector 12. One needs a dragon."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "A dragon. You want me to tame a High-Dragon like the Aether-Coatl I fought near the river?"

"Tame? No," Vaelen smiled faintly, though it lacked humor. "One does not tame the lords of the sky. One bonds with them. And we have kept a sacred vigil over a slumbering sovereign for this exact purpose."

The Elder stood up, leaning heavily on his wooden staff.

"Come with me, Hero. It is time we give you your wings."