The Villain's Story

Valus stood up and looked at Alan. Once again, Alan was reminded that he was shorter than average compared to the Dragons and sighed, straining his neck to look at the Supreme being.

He could look down on any human, elf, and most certainly a dwarf, and even some orcs… But perhaps he was the shortest dragon.

‘I wonder how tall the average God beast is…’

Valus exchanged glances with Alan and sighed. Alan had guessed he had read his mind once more. The Supreme Being turned around and stretched his hand. He made a circle in the air with his hand, and Alan felt the surrounding mana move.

The next instant, a flawless portal was present, made of darkness that had a strange shine around it, as if it were metal. Alan felt that it was leagues above his own… even though he had the affinity for it.

Portals are notorious for being pathetically weak, but one from a Supreme being well-versed in Spatial magic was almost indestructible. Forget slight mana fluctuations; even a meteor would fail to put a scratch on that.

‘Where does it lead to?’

“To Mother.”

Valus answered, having read his mind once more. Alan was used to it by now and continued in his mind.

‘Why? Did I pass the trial?’

“Yes, you’ve gained the recognition of both Shakaral and me, and for the third one, I don’t really have anything in mind for the moment. So I’d take you eviscerating the home of my race as a pass for that.”

There were three steps to every trial; the first two were to gain the recognition of the Supreme being and the Divine Dragon under them. The last was to either defeat something related to the Supreme and the trials…

For the trial of Ice, it was the dreadful Kizmal, The Giant which was but a fraction of his former strength, a ghost from the past that had nearly made Alan give up. For the trial of darkness to confront his shadows, the ones belonging to him, James, and Aranus.

Somehow, he didn’t fear the shadow of a young Aranus as much as he did Kizmal; perhaps Alan was developing a fear of Lightning. There were a lot of people in his life who used Lightning… and a lot of them had fought him, and some had beaten him.

Master Arken, Lucas, Alex, and a few others. If not for his natural weakness against Fire due to his traits as an ice dragon, as well as the weaknesses of his affinities… Alan would dread every fight against anyone who had Lightning as an affinity.

He had most certainly developed a form of post-traumatic stress disorder from his fight with Kizmal. Definitely.

For the Trial of Darkness, apparently, Valus found it appropriate that the defeat of the Black Sea was enough; in hindsight, it was the most impressive feat. The previous two trials featured only phantoms of the past, whilst the third was an actual living construct that was the home of the strongest species of dragons of the House of Death.

As Valus said that, Alan could feel a piercing gaze land on his back. He quickly turned around, but found nothing but undulating waves.

“…”

He turned around, but it was always there. The Black Sea had developed a hatred for him.

‘I didn’t mean to do it… You kind of forced me…’

The next second, a glare from Valus made the Black Sea shrink back, and no longer was the gaze apparent on his back.

Valus gestured for him to stand up, and said.

“The next thing to do is to officially become Heir, meet Mother, and pass her trial.”

Alan gulped, aware that this trial would be the most difficult one, but contrary to his expectations, Valus, aware of the worry in his mind, assured.

“Don’t worry, her trial is only a single question.”

“What question?”

He asked, knowing he won’t get the answer, but did it hurt to try?

“Hah.”

Valus chuckled and obviously didn’t answer. Instead, he flicked his hand, and a wave of darkness carried Alan and threw him into the portal.

He didn’t fall face-first into the ground as he expected; instead, he was standing perfectly fine. The place at the other end of the portal was dark, almost black, but Alan could still see. He didn’t know how to explain it. Not a single mote of light existed, but he could see everything clearly.

Of course, there wasn’t much to see in this Black Realm. Alan strangely felt as if he had been here before. Soon enough, Alan heard the sound of metal against metal. It was the rattling of chains, tightly bound to an individual making her way towards him.

Alan turned his head, focusing on where the sounds came from, and saw her. Ariel, walking towards him. But this time, it wasn’t a dragon the size of multiple continents, but a woman five heads taller than him.

A giant woman, wearing a simple black layered dress, with black hair reaching to her knees, and a face covered by a veil. However, Alan could see that half, or at least some of the face, was made purely of bone. But it wasn’t like an ordinary skull, hidden behind skin and flesh.

It was as if skin, flesh, and muscle had turned into bone. It added a certain allure to it. Interestingly enough, Alan couldn’t see where the chains bound Ariel.

He could see the ends of them, slithering on the ground and suspended in the air, but he couldn’t see where they bound Ariel; it was as if they ended inches away from her body, as if she was never chained at all.

They existed, but at the same time, they did not. It was as if nothing could chain death, nothing could imprison or curse Death. Merely looking at the chains caused a headache to sprout in Alan’s mind; therefore, he looked away, or rather, down, as if bowing his head.

Ariel stopped and muttered.

“Congratulations.”