Primordial Awakening: Rise of the Legendary Dragon God

The golden breath beam slammed into Kael's head like a miniature sun erupting point-blank.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM—!!!

Light swallowed the world.

The surroundings shook violently, the ground cracking further, chunks of stone flying around like birds fleeing from a predator.

Selene shielded her eyes.

Lyratheia fell back a step, feet scraping on broken stone.

Even Evethra, unwavering as she was, narrowed her eyes… but her feet never moved.

The Dire Sovereign's beam lasted five full seconds—

Five seconds of pure annihilation, a straight line of molten gold carving through the cavern, erasing everything in its path.

When it finally ended…

Silence.

Smoke choked the air around Kael's head, thick and swirling, completely obscuring the dragon's enormous face.

And still—

Kael's massive claw remained locked around the beast's neck.

Unmoving.

Unshaken.

As if nothing had happened.

The Dire Sovereign, however, burst into laughter—wild, triumphant, hysterical.

"HAAHAHAHAHA!!" It cackled, chest heaving. "THAT was my strongest breath! Even if you were a dragon, you would be torn apart by it!! Even if you survived the heat, your skull should be—SHOULD BE—!"

But its words died as it noticed something.

Kael's grip on its neck… hadn't loosened.

Not even slightly.

The beast froze.

"…Wait."

It was then that, from deep inside the smoke—

A glow.

A pair of golden eyes opened.

And then—

Kael's voice rolled out like a mountain of thunder shifting awake.

"Tell me," he rumbled casually, "what exactly are you laughing at?"

The Dire Sovereign's entire body locked.

The laughter died in its throat, replaced with a strangled gargle.

Kael leaned forward through the smoke, amusement dripping from every syllable.

"No, really. Share the joke." His voice deepened. "So I can laugh too."

The beast's breath hitched.

Because now—

Now it understood what was going on.

Kael wasn't dead.

He wasn't even hurt.

The golden beam had hit him with full force—

And nothing had happened.

The smoke around Kael's head began to clear…

And what appeared made every single living being in the area choke on their breath—beast and human alike.

Selene's eyes widened.

Evethra's jaw fell open.

Lyratheia's legs almost gave out.

"Wha—… what…?" Lyratheia whispered, voice cracking.

Because Kael's enormous dragon head… was covered in the same golden fiery membrane they saw a while ago.

It was the exact same barrier the Dire Sovereign had been using.

The Sovereign's pupils shrank so hard they became pinpoints.

The beast couldn't believe that Kael was using its ability—one that even it couldn't use for long.

Above all, it was an ability the dire sovereign beast had given all of his life's experience to make, so seeing it being used by someone was like a sword to its heart.

In disbelief, it roared, "N-No… no no no… HOW?!"

Kael blinked once.

Then he tilted his head, genuinely confused.

"How?" He echoed. "What do you mean by 'how'?"

The Dire Sovereign trembled, unable to comprehend what it was seeing.

Kael continued, perfectly casual, "I'm stronger than you."

He shrugged, the fiery membrane shimmering across his scales. "And more talented."

Another blink.

"And I liked the ability. It's useful. So I learned it."

He said it as if he were talking about copying a dance step.

As if this wasn't something impossible.

Lyratheia nearly screamed.

"Wh—What do you mean you 'learned it'?!" She grabbed her head in disbelief. "That barrier isn't a spell! It isn't even MAGIC! It's—!"

She looked at Kael, then at the Dire Sovereign, then at Kael again, shaking violently.

"That is an ancestral ability!! Only S-rank beasts—after years of combat—unlock a fragment of their bloodline and forge a unique, exclusive, irreplicable skill! It's literally tied to their life experiences! You—You can't just—copy it!!"

It was then that she realized Kael was staring at her mid-rant.

Blinking.

The Dire Sovereign was also staring.

Eyes huge.

Mouth shaking.

Mind breaking.

Kael tilted his head slowly.

"…Is that really such a big deal?"

Silence.

Then—

SNAP.

Whatever thread of sanity the Dire Sovereign had left… broke.

"RAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

It thrashed violently, its golden claws slashing desperately at Kael's hand—

Sparks flew as its talons scraped across Kael's scales, leaving faint lines.

Kael glanced at the scratches.

Not hurt—

Just annoyed.

"…That's getting irritating," he muttered.

Then—

Without warning—

Without dramatic preparation—

Without giving the beast even a second more—

Kael leaned forward—

—And bit the Dire Sovereign's head clean off.

CRRRUNCH—!!!

One powerful snap of his colossal jaws, and the Sovereign's skull, mane, and half its upper spine vanished between Kael's teeth.

He swallowed.

The body went limp instantly, falling from his claw like a discarded rag.

Silence fell like a collapsing universe.

No one breathed.

No one spoke.

No one moved.

Selene exhaled only after several seconds.

Evethra placed a trembling hand over her glowing cheeks.

Lyratheia sat down on the rubble, staring blankly in awe and terror.

Kael flicked a speck of golden fire off his snout.

"Well," he said, voice echoing calmly through the devastated cavern. "At least the meat is tasty."

...................

Meanwhile, some distance away from there, in the clearing where the humans were gathered now.

The tremors faded slowly, leaving only the echo of distant dripping water and the heavy hush of a world that had just witnessed the impossible.

Humans emerged from behind shattered trees and boulders one by one, their eyes fixed upward—toward the towering dragon whose silhouette rose like a mountain above the treetops.

The sun caught the smear of golden fire still clinging to his scales, making him look less like a creature and more like a living god descending to earth.

No one dared speak at first.

Some staggered backward, tripping over roots.

Some knelt, unable to stand on shaking knees.

Others clung to each other, realizing for the first time just how small they truly were.

A young boy whispered, "Is he… is he going to eat us too?"

"No," his mother breathed, though her voice trembled. "No… he hasn't looked at us once."

That somehow frightened them more.

Kael wasn't ignoring them—

He merely didn't consider them threats.

Or a prey.

Or anything that needed his immediate attention.

So, among the humans, fear was mixed with awe in equal measure.

Except for one man.

The food bringer walked past the trembling humans, past the cowering families, and past the open cages.

His steps were steady.

Eyes bright.

Face wet—not with fear, but with reverence.

He raised his basket of offerings—one he had kept for the moment he met his god—clutching it to his chest like a sacred relic.

"You all stay here," he said softly. "He won't harm me."

A few reached for him.

"Wait—! Don't—!"

But he kept walking.

Toward the dragon who had just rewritten their understanding of power.

Toward the being he had prayed to in silence for years.

Toward his god.

And not once did his feet waver.

Because he believed that everything would be alright.

And yes, everything would be fine.

Wherever Kael was, no problem could exist.

However, he couldn't be everywhere.

So, while he was here, back in the village, an uninvited guest was about to arrive.

...................

Vaelen, who had been running at his full speed away from Lyratheia's village, suddenly noticed something.

Far ahead, half-hidden behind veils of fog, stood a silhouette—

Huge.

Still.

Ancient.

A tree.

But not like the rest.

This one rose so high its crown dissolved into the morning clouds.

Bark the shade of aged gold glimmered faintly beneath the sunlight, and at its base… movement. Structures. Chimneys. Smoke trails. Pathways.

A village.

No—

A town.

Vaelen narrowed his eyes. Curiosity tugged faintly at his expression, the first true emotion he had felt today besides exhaustion.

"…A settlement this deep in Rugarda?"

He adjusted the hood of his cloak and began walking.

The closer he came, the louder the sounds grew—market chatter, haggling calls, metal striking metal, children laughing, carts rolling over wooden paths.

There were walls too, tall and sturdy, interwoven with roots that pulsed faintly with magic.

And when he saw the people, his breath caught.

Because they were demihumans.

Dozens of them were walking in and out of the village.

All shapes, all tribes—fox-kin, feathered beastfolk, scaled warriors, antlered shamans—walking in and out as if this were a sanctuary in a forest otherwise ruled by monsters.

"How…?" He whispered. "Is this… a hidden enclave?"

His heart beat faster—not with fear, but with the faint, disbelieving joy of a man who had hunted shadows for weeks and finally found something real.

He stepped toward the gates.

The guards shifted immediately. One raised a hand, halting him.

"Halt," said the first guard—a lion-kin with golden fur and sharp amber eyes. "You look like you're traveling. Is this your first time in the town?"

Without thinking much about it, Vaelen nodded.

"Yes," he said carefully.

"Then you'll need to register."

The lion-kin pointed to a wooden booth just beside the gate. "Name. Origin. Purpose. Standard procedure."

Vaelen nodded, tugging his cloak tighter before moving to the booth.

Inside sat a lean, long-eared rabbit-kin woman with ink-stained fingers and a quill already poised.

"Name?" She asked, her tone brisk but not unkind.

He didn't think twice.

"Vaelen."

The quill froze mid-stroke.

Her ears twitched sharply.

"…Vaelen?" She repeated slowly, eyes lifting to his hooded face.

"Yes."

A long, thin silence followed—so fragile he could almost hear her heartbeat.

Then she finished writing, stamped a small wooden pass, and handed it to him with a polite, practiced smile.

"Welcome to the town," she said. "You may enter."

Vaelen nodded once, unaware of the tension in the booth, unaware of the guard's ears perking, and unaware of the way the air seemed to thicken around him the moment he left.

He stepped through the gates—

And for the first time in weeks, he felt the faint warmth of safety brush his skin.

Behind him, the rabbit-kin's smile vanished.

She turned her head toward a young bird-kin messenger perched nearby—a sparrow-tribe girl with sleek gray wings and quick, intelligent eyes.

"Report this urgently."

The messenger didn't hesitate.

Wings snapped open—

Feathers sliced the air—

And she launched upward in a burst of wind, vanishing over rooftops as she sped toward the higher district.

Toward the leaders.