Nael ignored her tone, though his eyes narrowed, the air around him chilling with a sudden bite.
— "Do you know what it means to hatch an egg like this?" — he asked, his voice a thin shard of ice.
— "Of course I know." — She shrugged, brimming with too much confidence. — "It's just using my blood to awaken it."
He laughed silently within, though his face betrayed nothing. So simple, he thought, a flicker of pity brushing his mind.
— "It's not like that." — He said, his tone clipped and dry. — "Hatching this beast will rip the heavens and the earth apart. A spectacle no one can ignore. Every soul will feel its weight."
Elowen's brow furrowed, her smile dissolving into something slower, uncertain.
— "So what?" — she asked, though a faint thread of doubt now wove through her voice.
Nael stepped closer, his gaze piercing hers like twin needles, sharp and unrelenting.
— "So what? It will summon forces not even I can control." — He spoke softly, each word dropping like a heavy stone. — "From the mortal realm, perhaps the divine. And we'll both be dead before we grasp what strikes us."
She turned her eyes away, teeth sinking into her lip once more. Silence crept back, but it was different now—thick, oppressive, a burden she couldn't shrug off.
— "Then I'll wait." — she said at last, her voice quieter, edged with something close to defeat.
Nael offered no reply. He simply turned and walked on, the mist swallowing his form like a shroud. Elowen lingered where she stood, the icy wind lashing her skin, the primordial beast egg a warm, pulsing secret pressed against her chest. One day, she vowed silently, her eyes hardening with resolve. One day, she would hatch that beast—and the world would quake in its wake.
Elowen tilted her face aside, the damp forest wind flinging her hair across her eyes. The air carried the scent of sodden earth and decaying leaves, but she paid it no mind. Her chest tightened, caught in a tug-of-war between rage and exhaustion.
— "So, what do you suggest?" — she demanded, arms crossed tight, her narrowed gaze locked on Nael. She craved an answer—anything to break his usual frigid silence.
He met her stare. His eyes were cold, unyielding as stone, yet a rare spark flickered within them, a hint of something buried deep.
— "There's a place." — His voice emerged low, sharp, heavy with an unshakable certainty that sent a shiver through her. — "In my existential sea. There, only I enter."
She blinked, caught off guard. Existential sea? The phrase sank into her mind, odd and brimming with unspoken mysteries.
— "You never mentioned that." — she said, masking how much it piqued her curiosity.
— "Because you didn't need to know." — He sliced through her words, curt and impatient. — "And I don't speak of what doesn't matter."
Elowen huffed, the corner of her mouth twisting into a bitter half-smile.
— "Of course, always so direct." — she muttered, letting it drop. Pushing him further, she knew, was a fool's errand.
Nael extended his hand toward her. It was a simple motion, yet in him, it felt strained, almost painful, as if the act itself rebelled against his nature.
— "Take my hand."
She froze, her eyes darting from his open palm to his face, ever impassive.
— "Seriously? You asking this?" — A playful gleam danced in her gaze. — "I thought you hated touching anyone."
— "I do hate it." — His reply was icy, dripping with disdain. — "But this way is faster."
She let out a soft laugh, tinged with defiance, and clasped his hand firmly.
— "Practical to the end, huh?"
— "Just shut up." — he snapped, his tone a blade's edge.
In an instant, the world unraveled. The forest, the wind, the damp musk—all vanished. They stood in a boundless void, where light and shadow twisted together in a living, chaotic dance. Elowen's eyes widened, her pulse racing, a cocktail of fear and wonder clawing up her throat.
— "Welcome to my world." — Nael released her hand and stepped forward, his voice devoid of warmth yet solid as stone. — "Here, my rules."
She swallowed hard. The air pulsed against her skin, as if the very space were sizing her up.
The void shuddered, then reshaped itself. Suddenly, they were elsewhere—a house, no, a sanctuary—adrift in Nael's warped universe. Elowen blinked rapidly, struggling to anchor herself in the sight. Then her gaze fell on the landscape, and her breath fled her lungs.
It was breathtaking. Not merely beautiful—it was a perfection that ached. The air wasn't just crisp; it flowed into her like liquid vitality, thrumming in her bones. She took a tentative step, her feet light, as if the ground might crumble beneath her.
— "This… this is…" — she began, but her voice faltered, strangled by the sheer enormity.
— "My domain." — Nael answered, calm, almost detached, though his words carried a resonance that lingered. — "My home."
She turned to him, speechless, her eyes roving the scene. The sky wasn't a sky—it was a swirling ocean of vivid hues, like ink bleeding into water, lights with no source casting everything in an otherworldly glow.
— "How did you do this?" — she asked, her voice a near-whisper, still captive to the impossible.
— "Don't ask what you don't understand." — He cut her off, sharp and dry, a flash of impatience glinting in his eyes.
The gardens defied imagination. Flowers she'd never conceived of shimmered with their own radiance, petals pulsing with light. Butterflies, their wings gossamer-thin, drifted lazily, as if tracing some hidden rhythm.
— "This isn't real." — Elowen murmured, half to herself, her chest constricting.
— "It's more real than you." — Nael replied, already striding toward the mansion at the heart of it all.
The house loomed vast yet welcoming, its every contour carved with precision—a harmony of power and elegance. But Nael's attention wasn't on it. His gaze fixed on the creatures that called this place home.
A colossal dragon sprawled there, its scales gleaming like molten metal, the air quivering in its presence. Its eyes were wells of raw chaos, yet it remained still, watching with a cold, calculating patience. Nearby, a lion with a golden mane held court, its stillness more menacing than any roar. A black tiger prowled, silver eyes slicing through the air like knives.
An elephant stood with tusks of shimmering crystal, radiating an energy that prickled her skin. A phoenix perched atop a tree that blazed like living flame, its feathers glowing with the heat of embers.
Elowen stood rooted, breath snagged in her throat, her heart hammering against her ribs.
— "This is an Eden…" — she whispered, her voice trembling with a quiet fear.
— "It's not paradise." — Nael corrected, his tone glacial. — "It's control."
She turned to him, caught between marvel and the crushing weight of the place.
— "And them?" — She gestured to the creatures, her voice quaking slightly. — "Are they real?"
— "More real than you imagine." — He said, moving toward the garden's center. — "And they're waiting."
She trailed after him, steps faltering, the domain clinging to her like a living shadow.
— "Why did you bring me here?" — she asked at last, her voice raw, vulnerable in a way she despised.
Nael halted. His cold eyes met hers, cutting deep.
— "Because here, no one commands me."
He turned away, leaving her with the reverberation of his words as the place breathed around them—alive, mesmerizing, terrifying.
The air thrummed around us, thick and sticky, as if the ethereal magic of this space clung to our skin. We were poised to leave, but a thought struck me like lightning. The Ancient Tomb. It was the perfect place to hatch the Primordial Ice Phoenix egg—I felt it deep in my core, a certainty heavier than the silence stretching between us.
I glanced at Nael, my heart pounding. He stood rigid, his icy gaze fixed somewhere beyond me. Before I could speak, I saw impatience seep from him like venom—lips pressed tight, jaw locked. He was done waiting.
— "Nael, I…" — My voice wavered, but he cut me off.
— "No." — Sharp, final, like a blade's strike. — "Enough delays. I've waited too long already."
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening. I knew he yearned for the Holy Land, his final destination, and every moment here was a chain he longed to shatter. But I couldn't back down. Not yet.
— "Just one more thing." — I pressed, steady despite the tremor in my voice. — "The Ancient Tomb. That's where the egg needs to be."
He inhaled deeply, the sound rough, almost a stifled growl. His eyes narrowed, slicing into me. Then something flickered in them—recognition. My cultivation domain, five times stronger than his. A gap his raw talent couldn't bridge.
— "You know I can't beat you." — His voice was low, frigid, laced with a grudging respect. — "One domain above? Maybe I'd stand a chance. Two? Nearly impossible. Three or more? Even the gods wouldn't dare."
I gave a faint, humorless smile. Pure truth, nothing more.
— "I know." — I held his gaze. — "But this isn't about winning. It's about doing what's right."
Silence fell, thick and heavy. Then, with a sigh that seemed to carry centuries, he relented.
— "There's a better place." — he murmured, almost to himself. — "My personal domain. There, no one touches us."
I blinked, startled. Personal domain? He'd never breathed a word of it. But there was no time to question. He was already moving, and I followed, my heart drumming in my chest.
The world twisted, and we were there. The air hit like an invisible fist, slamming me toward the ground. Every breath was a battle, every step a scream from my straining muscles. The gravity here was merciless—a living force, cruel and unyielding, bent on breaking me.
— "I don't know if I can handle this." — I whispered, my voice frail, nearly swallowed by the weight.
Nael said nothing. He walked ahead, shoulders squared, but I caught the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, the faint tremble in his hands. He felt the pain—he just buried it, as always.
— "Why do you do this?" — I asked, louder, my voice cutting through the dense air.
He stopped. Turned his head slowly, his eyes like shards of ice.
— "Because it's necessary." — Simple. Cold. Done.
There was nothing left to say. Nael was a blade without a hilt, forged only to carve the path ahead. Relentless. I tried to walk, but the ground dragged at me. I tried to fly, and it was worse—like invisible chains bound my unseen wings. Here, I was small, fragile, mortal.
Then I saw the garden, and everything shifted.
Flowers glowed like fallen stars. Butterflies with glass-like wings danced in the heavy air. A massive dragon slumbered in the distance, its chest rising and falling like a living mountain, scales reflecting liquid light. A black tiger prowled, silver eyes slicing the space. A golden-maned lion watched, majestic and untouchable. Above, the Primordial Phoenix spread its majestic wings, shimmering with the chill of chaos.
It was beautiful. It was terrifying.
I staggered toward the lake at the center, my feet leaden yet drawn forward. The water was a flawless mirror, so clear it seemed another realm. I brushed its surface, and a cold relief surged through my fingers, washing away the fatigue, the pain, the fear. I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath.
— "This is… incredible." — I whispered, almost to myself.
But the weight crashed back, a brutal reminder. The relief was fleeting. Maybe it's too dangerous, I thought, my heart clenching. I looked at Nael. He stared back, expressionless, as if danger were a mere footnote.
I was lost in my thoughts when his voice tore through the stillness.
— "Want to explore these lands with me?"
I blinked, caught off guard. It was almost light, almost human. My chest flared with sudden excitement.
— "Yes!" — I answered, too quickly, a smile slipping free.
He didn't smile back. Just gave a slight nod, as if he'd known my answer all along. But there was something there—a spark, faint but real. And beneath that crushing weight, I felt we stood on the edge of something vast. Something that could shatter us—or make us whole.
He raised a hand, a simple gesture, and the world held its breath. Something immense tore across the horizon—not fast, but with a deliberate slowness that sank into my bones. The dragon emerged, an eastern titan, wingless, graceless. Pure power incarnate, its skin a black so deep it devoured light, flecked with scales that sparked like dying embers. Its head alone was a hundred-meter monstrosity, a guardian that dwarfed the sky.
Its maw parted, and no roar came—just a low rumble, like a storm brewing far off. White teeth, sharp as daggers, gleamed in the dimness. It drew near, and the air turned to frost, clinging to my skin. Each breath it exhaled was a cold warning, a mist of menace. Without a second thought, I clambered onto its head, my trembling fingers grazing a rough, almost living surface. I was nothing here—a speck scaling a god.
Beside me, Nael stood still. His eyes, hard as flint, locked onto the dragon without a flicker.
— "He knows we're here." — he said, his voice soft, nearly lost to the wind. No awe, just a chilling calm, as if he and this beast were carved from the same quiet stone.
The dragon needed no wings. With a flick of its tail—light yet devastating—it wrenched us from the ground. The wind slammed into me like a fist, and my weary body fought to stay upright. The pressure was a phantom hand, squeezing the air from my lungs. I can't take this, I thought, teeth gritted, but there was no choice but to endure.