Dragon Game: All My Dragons Are Ranked 'SSS'

The man's words lingered in the air, calm and unhurried:

"Let me lead you to your room."

It even sounded like a suggestion, like he was casually offering, and if they didn't want to follow, they could just remain here.

Drahon pushed back his chair, glancing briefly at Ayvira and Devon. None of them spoke. Somehow, it felt wrong to break the quiet now.

This place carried such a mythic flair that Drahon was starting to feel nervous about speaking at all.

And so they all nodded in unison.

"Sure," Devon added, his voice very… very… very calm.

The horned man stepped away from the table, his movements precise, as though each step had been measured before he took it. That made Drahon's thought of him being an NPC start to sound real and no longer just speculation.

The man's black suit remained spotless, not a single crease disturbed, and his posture stayed as straight as a drawn blade.

They followed him past the crescent counter, a place that hadn't been there before… or had it? Drahon couldn't say; he was just noticing it for the first time.

It led deeper into the building. The air seemed to change the moment they left the dining area. Now it was cooler and quieter, as if the magic woven into the shop's front room didn't quite extend here. Like this was a whole different place on its own.

The glow from the silver-veined walls dimmed slightly, taking on a softer hue.

The corridor was long and strangely narrow for such a grand place, lined with doors that looked identical at first glance. Yet as they walked, Drahon noticed faint markings above each frame, small runes, each glowing with a different color. None repeated.

Weird colors Drahon hadn't seen before. At first it was the normal red, blue, green, purple, violet, but soon, he started to see shades that had no names at all.

The horned man broke the silence, his deep voice low but perfectly clear.

"You are not the first guests to arrive today."

Drahon lifted his eyes from the glowing runes to meet the man's gaze, but the shopkeeper didn't look back. His eyes stayed fixed forward, focused entirely on the path ahead.

Drahon was surprised the man was even speaking to them.

"Three hours before you came," the man continued, "a group of three came to the Dragon Shop."

Ayvira's brow furrowed. "Three? Players?"

"Yes," the man said. "Two women, well, young women, actually, and one young man. About the same age as you. I think they were Dragon Summoners. Skilled, but young."

That title— Dragon Summoners, hung in his mind.

Dragon Summoners? He had never heard of that before.

He exchanged glances with the others, half expecting them to stay calm and collected, as if they already knew of Dragon Summoners, but no, Devon and Ayvira both wore the same furrowed brows, deep in thought.

That assured him he wasn't the only one surprised here.

Drahon knew enough about the world now to understand it wasn't just some casual title. If the name meant what it implied, they were players who could call forth dragons to fight for them, much like he could summon his own wyrmling… except, judging by the tone in the man's voice, their power likely far outstripped his.

And that left the question in his mind: who exactly were these Dragon Summoners?

"What did they look like?" Devon asked.

The man's stride didn't falter, but his tone became deliberate, almost as though he was recounting a memory exactly as it had been stored.

"The first girl was tall, with hair the color of midnight and eyes like sharpened steel. She wore light armor— blackened leather, edged with faint gold, and carried a curved blade at her hip. The second girl was smaller in build, her hair pale as frost, her clothing woven with threads of deep green. I saw no weapons on her, but her presence was… heavy. The kind that comes from power."

He paused briefly, as though choosing his next words with care. His voice was tender and brittle, and strangely enough, it sounded pleasant in Drahon's ears.

"The boy was broad-shouldered, though not as tall as the dark-haired woman. His hair was the color of ash, his armor plated but worn. His left hand bore a gauntlet shaped like a dragon's claw. I do not know if it was merely ornament."

The descriptions etched themselves into Drahon's mind, sharp, very much sharp and complete. For some reason, he felt an odd pull at the mention of them— Dragon Summoners who had passed through this exact place only hours earlier.

What for?

"What did they want?" Drahon asked before he could stop himself.

The man didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stopped before a door with a pale blue rune above it, shaped almost like a spiraling flame. He rested one large hand on the frame and turned to face them.

"They came for answers," he said. "And for a time, they listened as I gave them what I could. But their questions… their questions were not of this shop, nor of food, nor of weapons. They were seeking knowledge of something far older and ancient, something I was surprised they were even asking about."

Ayvira's eyes narrowed slightly. "Older than this shop?"

"Yes."

With that, he turned the handle, and the door swung inward without a sound.

The room beyond was simple but far from plain. A soft golden light filled the space, spilling from crystal fixtures in the walls. Two large beds stood against opposite sides, their frames carved with the same silver-vein pattern as the counter outside. A low table sat between them, and in the far corner, a tall window looked out over something that seemed like endless mist. He could see no street or skies, just mist that churned slowly.

The floor was covered in thick, dark carpet, the kind that was beautiful and yet almost grotesque.

There were no personal touches and no clutter. It was a place meant for rest, nothing more.

The man stepped inside first, his heavy shoes making no sound on the carpet. He moved toward the center of the room and turned to face them fully for the first time since leaving the dining area.

"Are we all going to stay in this room?" Ayvira asked the man.

The man shrugged. "There are many rooms…"

He didn't complete his sentence, as if leaving it for Ayvira to decide.

"I mean, I need some privacy. Like actually take a bath…," she paused. "You have a bathroom here?"

The man smiled slightly.

"Yes," he said. "Almost every room has one."

Devon shrugged and said to Drahon:

"Guess it's us both here then."

But still, Drahon lingered in the doorway. He could feel the question burning at the back of his mind. It was reckless to ask, maybe even dangerous, but it was there… and it was persistent.

"What exactly did those Dragon Summoners come here for?" he said at last.

The horned man's eyes stayed on him. For a heartbeat, there was nothing in them but stillness. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest shadow of a smile, not warmth, not kindness either, but something more like recognition.

"They came," the man said, "To inquire about the Dragon Worshippers."