Drake continued his walk. He didn’t know where he was or what he was supposed to do in this ruin. According to the novels he’d read, entering ruins usually meant seeking out ancient treasures or stumbling upon a powerful inheritance.
But so far, he had found nothing resembling those mythical rewards—only useful herbs, which he harvested and stored within his Devouring Void Stomach. One couldn’t afford to waste such resources.
"Does anyone hear me?" Drakion called out through the telepathic link between him and the members of his clan. But since his arrival, there had been no response.
"Is that you, Master?" a voice finally echoed in his mind. It was Blaze—the feline who had transmuted into a Fire Dragon, likely due to his pure elemental bloodline. His blood was 100% fire, a royal lineage.
"Master, I can hear you too," came another voice—Fang, the Draco Wolf.
Drakion’s heart stirred with delight. "Where are you guys?"
"We’re together, Master. Near a place close to a waterfall," Blaze replied.
Drakion nodded, then extended his telepathic senses to get a general sense of their location. One of the limitations of their telepathic bond was that it didn’t allow precise tracking—only a broad range of direction. More so, only Drakion could locate them through the bond; they could not track his position unless he permitted it.
Soon, Drakion arrived by the riverside where the others were gathered.
As he gazed at the flowing stream, he noticed something strange. The water was clear—too clear—not devoid of aura, but... something was off.
"Devouring Ocular Art: Devourer Eye."
His eyes immediately flared, transforming into swirling vortices of devouring power, exuding a menacing aura. With sharpened sight, Drakion zoomed into the depths of the river.
The river was not what it seemed. Beneath its tranquil surface lay countless skeletons settled at the bottom. But that wasn’t all. Hiding among those remnants were predatory fish, their movements barely noticeable—silent, deadly.
Anyone who stumbled into that water without powerful ocular arts would be reduced to prey within moments.
Suddenly, Drakion noticed something else—Draconic Aura, faint but undeniable, streaming in a specific direction.
His gaze snapped upward, scanning the air. The flow of Dragon Aura was converging—not dispersing. It was being drawn somewhere.
A slow smile tugged at his lips. "Let’s go. I think I’ve found the path forward," he said to Fang and Blaze.
"We are going on a journey to the West!" Blaze cheered.
Hearing that, Drakion paused, a nostalgic smile creeping onto his face. "That surely brings back a lot of memories."
He turned to both of them. "Let’s go."
Drakion, Fang, and Blaze began their journey westward. Even though they moved swiftly, night caught up to them. Along the way, they reunited with three more clan members: Noctheria, Finn, and Quill—the cunning Draco Mouse.
Drakion felt a wave of relief wash over him when he saw Noctheria, but the memory of Stryx and Zephyr, the two mischievous ones, reignited his unease.
As night fully fell, Drakion noticed something unsettling.
The moon... it was not silver.
It was red—a deep, bloodstained red—reeking of slaughter and death.
A sudden chill swept through the air. The darkness thickened, swallowing light like a hungry beast. Then came the sound—a dragon’s roar, twisted and evil, echoing across the land like a cursed omen.
Drakion stiffened, his instincts flaring.
Something bad was coming.
He settled them down inside the cave, then spoke in a low but firm voice. "You guys should stay here. I want to check things out. None of you must come out until the next day—even if you don’t see me," Drakion warned.
"Master, where are you going? Let us follow you," Finn said, worry etched across his face.
"Yes, Master. If you want to fight, we’re here for you," Blaze added with unwavering resolve.
Drakion shook his head slowly. "I’m not going to fight. I just want to check things outside... I feel something bad is going to happen."
After warning them several times, Drakion finally set out. Yet he hadn’t gone far when he was struck by the overwhelming aura of death—it was suffocating, thick enough to crush weaker cultivators under its sheer weight.
But for Drakion, it was like a fish slipping into water.
He took only a few more steps before realizing something strange—the death aura in the air had condensed into mist. Thick. Unnatural.
Only to find his sense of direction gone.
"Damn... I shouldn’t have come out at all."
He turned in every direction, trying to reorient himself, but it was futile—he could no longer distinguish North from South, East from West.
"Devouring Ocular Art: Devouring Eyes."
His eyes ignited with swirling power, forming devouring vortexes once more. With them, he could see clearly—but only within a hundred-meter radius. He let out a quiet sigh.
The death mist had limited the range of his Ocular Art.
"Well, you shouldn’t have left the cave. Your comprehension of the Devouring Eyes is still shallow," Drax’s voice echoed through Drakion’s ears as the spectral figure appeared, sitting cross-legged on his shoulder.
"Curiosity got the better of me," Drakion replied with a faint sigh.
He continued onward, eyes sweeping across the mist-covered terrain. Every step was taken with caution, his senses fully alert.
Then suddenly—movement.
Something surged toward him.
Out of the mist emerged a dark dragon soul, cloaked in death aura. Its eyes were void, its essence corrupted—it had lost all sense of reason.
Drakion’s breath caught. The sight was both shocking... and tragic.
But the dragon wasn’t attacking him.
Instead, it was lunging toward someone else.
With his Devouring Eyes, Drakion quickly caught sight of the target—a young woman.
The dragon soul attacked relentlessly, its only intent to kill. It had become nothing more than a vessel of destruction, its soul hollow and driven by a singular force: death.
Then came the woman’s cry—a sharp grunt as the dragon’s blow sent her crashing to the ground. Its jaws lunged forward in a deathblow. She wouldn’t be able to dodge it in time.
Drakion sprang into action.
He moved with lightning speed, snatching her away from the clutches of death. The dragon’s jaws snapped behind them, narrowly missing its prey, a thunderous growl of fury ripping from its throat.
"Are you okay?" Drakion asked, his eyes dropping to the woman in his arms.
But the moment he saw her face—everything inside him stilled.
Anger surged like fire through his veins.
A/N: Guess who the person is?