Chapter 830
"Great Viridrigon," Erik said, his voice dropping into a tone of genuine reverence as he bowed deep. Beside him, Eldrin followed suit, his posture stiff, his eyes fixed on the mossy earth as he felt the crushing weight of the dragon’s presence, even in this humanoid form, the air around him felt heavy and immovable.
"And here I thought I had been forgotten," Viridrigon remarked, his voice held a light, teasing edge. He didn’t seem insulted, only amused, as he wiped the dirt from his hands onto his rustic trousers.
Erik did not rise to the bait. Instead, he straightened, his expression hardening into a mask of solemn honesty. "I had, in truth, forgotten. It was my son who remembered you, and it was he who brought me to this realization."
Viridrigon’s gaze shifted, his eyes, deep pools of emerald light raking over Erik. He took a long, sharp sniff of the air, his nose wrinkling slightly. "You carry a foul stench, old friend. Lust, desperate desire, and the clinging rot of tainted cursed energy. It is little wonder you are as frayed as you appear."
The dragon’s focus then drifted to Eldrin, and a low, rumbling chuckle escaped him. "So, this is the one. The little prince who thought it wise to ask a dragon to play guard dog for his pet project, that seed of yours."
The bluntness of the statement struck Eldrin like a physical blow. His composure fractured, his shoulders tensing as a surge of protective instinct and embarrassment flared in his chest. Before he could retort or retreat into his usual prickly defense, a firm, grounding hand came to rest on his back. Erik’s touch was steady, a silent command for his son to hold his ground and keep his peace.
"He is young, and in his youth, he believes he knows the weight of the world. I hope you take no offense, Great One," Erik said, his voice steady. He was not surprised by the dragon’s knowing, he had suspected as much from the moment he first spoke the name Viridrigon in his own halls. He knew now that every step of his journey, every brush with the dark gods’ influence, had been laid out under the emerald gaze of this being.
Viridrigon shook his head, a faint, indulgent smile ghosting his lips. "He is brave, and I have always had a fondness for such spirit. Besides, he spoke the truth. Your creation indeed piques my curiosity, a bloodline purification tree. It is a rare endeavor. I would be honored to watch its growth and see what it matures into."
With a fluid, casual gesture of his hand, Viridrigon reached out. The seed, which had felt like an anchor of lead and longing in Erik’s grip, lifted effortlessly, floating through the air to hover inches before the dragon’s chest.
Both father and son watched in stunned silence. As the seed settled into the dragon’s aura, the suffocating, intoxicating sweetness that had filled their lungs for weeks, that cloying scent of desperation and cursed energy vanished instantly. In the presence of the true master of this realm, the seed seemed to fall silent, its malevolent hum silenced as if it were nothing more than an unsprouted nut in the hand of a gardener.
Viridrigon’s finger brushed the surface of the seed, and the playful glint in his eyes vanished. He frowned, the emerald light in his eyes dimming as he seemed to taste the history of the object. "Because you came with pure intentions," he murmured, "I am inclined to repay such behavior by letting you know the true extent of the forces you are experimenting with."
He paced slowly around the floating seed, his shadow lengthening unnaturally against the garden floor. "The dark gods are not done as you wish to believe. They were merely suppressed by the Origin Gods. But because of their fundamental nature, death is a foreign concept to them. They do not end, they come back after sometimes has passed"
The dragon gestured to the seed, which hung in the air before them "The dark fluid you used to birth this seed remained dormant only because its masters were dormant. But that has changed. The act of creating this life, this purification tree has acted as a beacon. The Dark Gods are still "dead", but the birth of this seed acts as a conduit, violently shortening the timeline of their revival."
Viridrigon stopped his pacing, fixing his piercing, ancient gaze directly onto Erik. "Every day the tree grows, it pulls them closer to awakening their sleeping consciousness. Knowing this, knowing that you are effectively ringing the dinner bell for beings that aim to overlap this world, do you still wish to proceed with the planting?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Erik’s face had drained of all color, his skin turning a sickly, ghostly pale. He stood motionless, his knuckles white from clenching. The weight of the revelation settling into his body. He had long suspected a heavy price, a shadow trailing the creation of the seed, but he had willfully blinded himself to the magnitude of the cost, driven by a desperation that had gnawed at him for years.
On one side of the scale lay the salvation of his people, the reclamation of his kingdom and the rebirth of the Elvish race, a dream that had been the singular obsession of his existence. On the other side lay a deliberate accelerated path toward the return of the Dark Gods. He knew with certainty that if the world learned of his choice, that he had traded the worlds safety for the resurrection of his kin, he would be branded a greater monster than any of the corrupted creatures he and Eldrin had spent the last month purging.
Slowly, Erik closed his eyes. When he spoke again, his voice had the concviction of a man who had stepped over a threshold from which there was no return.
"I still wish to proceed," Erik whispered, his voice steady despite the paleness of his skin. "I no longer have the luxury to think about the future. I can only focus on the present, on fixing what is broken right now. The Dark Gods fell once, and they will fall again."
He opened his eyes, the emerald light of the dragon reflecting in his own. "If the Origin Gods ever go silent or absent, then it will not be by their hands, but by mine and the hands of my kin that the Dark Gods will be cast back down. We will make it our solemn duty to ensure their reach never touches this world again. If I must be the villain to secure a future for my people, then so be it."
Erik’s declaration rung in the air, vibrating with a resonance backed by a metaphysical binding. A subtle, low-frequency hum emanated from the surrounding void, a response from the world, acknowledging a vow made in blood and conviction. Only Erik and the Great Dragon seemed to perceive the gravity of the resonance, Viridrigon’s gaze deepened, his expression unreadable.
"You have forged a great pact," the dragon said "I advise you to abide by it, King. Should you not, the price you will pay will make the release of death seem like a mercy you are no longer permitted to claim."
Viridrigon offered no further warnings, nor did he wait for a rebuttal. With a flick of his wrist, the seed followed him as he began to walk away "Let us go and plant it," he commanded as he headed deeper into the verdant heart of the garden.
Erik and Eldrin exchanged a glance, their breaths catching in their throats. The terror of the Dark Gods was still heavy in their minds, but the sheer, blinding light of possibility outshone it. Excitement blazed in their eyes. The wait was over; the seed was finally going to take root, and the long-extinguished hope for their kingdom was flickering back into existence.
They hastened to follow, falling into step behind the dragon. Yet, as they moved, a jarring, unnatural sensation gripped them. With every stride they took across the vibrant, floral earth, the world seemed to fold in on itself. It felt as though they were sprinting across leagues of terrain, yet their perspective remained static, as if they were running in place while the world shifted around them.
A sudden, biting chill cut through the humid warmth of the garden, followed instantly by a thick, swirling mist that swallowed everything in a pale shroud. Eldrin reached out, but his fingers met only damp air ,Viridrigon’s silhouette blurred and then vanished entirely.
Erik and Eldrin locked eyes, a silent, frantic question passing between them, but they pushed forward, their legs moving with resolve despite the fading path.
Then, the world lurched. The soft, mossy earth beneath them hardened into jagged, frost-bitten stone. The suffocatingly lush greenery evaporated, replaced by the thin, freezing air of high altitudes. They were no longer in the hidden sanctuary, they were standing on the exposed crown of the mountain, surrounded by roiling clouds and a bitter, stinging breeze.