Draconic Awakening

The sound of metal hitting claws, the sound of bodies hitting the ground, groans and cries of both humans and beasts echoed through the thick walls of the cavern for what felt like hours.

And after a while, the noise gradually reduced, and the party had managed to finally prevail over the horde of mutated Wretchborns, finishing off the final few.

With their numbers greatly reduced, the remains of the horde seemed to have lost all moxie to fight the humans; most of them backed down and turned to flee the area. But the party wouldn't let that slide—they all attacked the beasts in anger, killing them off, and soon all that stood were the formidable party of Princess Arya and the hundreds of massacred bodies that belonged to the mutated Wendigos.

Cleaver had fallen onto his back, breathing heavily, while Klein managed to stand exhausted, not as wounded as the others.

Arya, on the other hand, had dismissed her spear, and with her large blade in hand, she hunched her back, letting out hoarse breaths as she scanned through the work of her party. The smell of blood and ash coated the air thickly, and her face was enveloped with sweat almost as thick as blood.

However, she peered around the cavern in search of something, and when she found it, she finally moved.

The young princess dismissed her armour, the sublime piece of craftsmanship bearing ranges of tears, bends, and torn-up parts. Doing this also increased the speed of her movement drastically, allowing her to run past the numerous bodies.

Then finally, she reached her target—the lowly man lying in the midst of burnt-up bodies, barely breathing and clinging to life. His wounds were severe, his blood loss far worse. It was a miracle he was still alive.

"Ranar, don't die on me just yet," she said, placing both hands on his chest. Not knowing if he heard her or not, she dimmed her eyes and began to concentrate.

From her hands, a bright light began to show, coursing out of her palms and onto the unconscious Lord on the floor. A few moments went by and the wounds on Ragnar's body began to close up, the pool of blood that belonged to him reversing up his body and through his cuts back into his body.

It almost seemed as though she could reverse the effects on his body; however, that wasn't her Arcana, and the other two party members could tell.

Cleaver watched from afar, seeing as some of the Wendigo bodies nearest to Ragnar and the princess began to crumble to dust strangely.

"You deserve to live, bastard," Cleaver spoke, reclining his head to the wall behind him in frustration at his sore bones.

Klein, in turn, only watched, and then his gaze met with his hands, the skin of his palms peeled from wielding his battle axe. The fact that this was just the first battle to leaving the Forsakened Crust made his heart drop.

Meanwhile, Ragnar began to gain consciousness once more, and as his sight returned to him, he found himself staring into the beautiful eyes of the dashing princess. Not that he was bothered, but he had his mind on more pressing things.

'Fuck you, death! I survived!'

His mouth jarred open and what came next stunned Arya. "Hahahahahahahah... Accck!" He burst into laughter, then choked on his own with a few coughs.

Arya stayed dazed for a few moments, and then she smiled for a second before patting her insane companion on the head. "Good to see you well, don't overexert yourself for now. Just because you are healed doesn't mean you are fully."

Hearing her say this, Ragnar only smiled in reply.

She seemed awfully nice... nicer than she usually was, and to him, the outsider of this party, how stupidly trusting of her.

Arya rose to her feet and hurried to the others to heal them.

While she did this, Ragnar raised his hands and summoned his system to check on his stats.

{Draconic imp: 3/20}

{Arcane: 83/500}

{Ember marks: 6}

'Thank God it wasn't all a waste.' Staring at the significant increase in his stats, he couldn't help but let the joy escape with another insane laughter, which did not go unnoticed by the party members.

Cleaver only gulped and shook his head. "Mad man."

Ragnar had gambled his life when he had used his flames to decimate the army, just to get an extra point to his Draconic imp status.

'So that means the larger or more creative I can use the fire ability, the more I gain points to the status. But constantly placing myself in a position where I would be nearly dead from my abilities isn't something to be proud of. I should only practice it when necessary.' Establishing that fact, he turned to his next status, which was his Arcane core. He was almost at a hundred, and that meant he was much stronger.

If his growth continued at this pace, maybe he might even be able to face a Dreadling and kill one on his own... that was a strong maybe though.

And lastly, his Ember marks.

{Bloodsucker}

{Cloak of the fox}

{Fiend}

{Black tree}

{Scale shield}

{Venom fang}

Ragnar furrowed his eyes and stared at the name of his last ember mark. 'Another quite lowly name to describe my weapon.'

He swiped at the last ember mark to show information on it and read as it displayed:

{Venom Fang: a dagger, not just any dagger, but one made particularly for cowards, assassins, and those who know nothing but dirty horseplay. As with a scratch of this blade, a venom will be released; the time span for that person to die depends on the user's depth of calmness at the moment}

{Grade: D}

Ragnar was mesmerized by the weapon. Made for cowards—that was no surprise; the system always saw him this way. However, this was a perfect weapon for him.

'Poison ability and a grade D, not bad,' he thought, and then his mind flew to the point where he needed to be calm for the dagger's poison time span to be either elongated or shortened. It was no problem for him, but the weapon was tricky.

'Like, how long would it take for someone to die if injured? What would happen if I am angry and stab someone—would it take years or hours for the effects to be certain?'

The young Lord was boiling with questions; however, none of his questions could be answered at the time, as the princess and her party were already healed and heading his way.

He let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "I guess it's time to go, isn't it."

Arya nodded, lingering for a moment before speaking. "Let's go. The main demon of this cavern awaits us."

Ragnar frowned. The main demon—he could not imagine what sort of terrors the gatekeeper of this place would be like, but he knew it would be nothing far off from despicable.