Paragon of Destruction

Arran naturally intended to destroy the Blood magic. As long as it remained in his body, he would be in danger. And now, he had an idea on how to eliminate it once and for all — by using the devouring force he had gained from the dragon’s blood against it.

Still, he did not act immediately.

The parasitic magic had already been stopped from growing stronger, and now, time was on Arran’s side. With every passing moment, he absorbed more strength from the blood that surrounded him, and the stronger he grew, the more confident he was in crushing the Blood magic.

With that in mind, he waited patiently, observing the competing forces within his body as his strength gradually increased.

Once more, he was surprised at the similarity between the two. Both were vicious devouring forces that hungrily consumed power, and both seemed to be far more efficient than the Body Refinement techniques Arran knew.

Yet while the Blood magic was a hostile parasite, the devouring power in the dragon blood had fully merged with Arran’s body. Any power it consumed benefited him, and he could control it effortlessly with a simple thought.

More questions arose in Arran’s mind, however.

The Blood magic had previously only absorbed life force from dying enemies, but after he ingested the dead dragon’s blood, it had begun to devour Natural Essence as well.

This gave him some pause, and he wondered whether it always had that capability or whether the dragon blood had merely awakened it. And in either case, he was still unclear on what life force actually was — though now he wondered if perhaps it was some special kind of Natural Essence.

He considered the question for several hours, then gave up. Perhaps he would be able to learn more about it once he returned to the Sixth Valley, but for now, he had no way to find the answer.

Instead, he focused his attention on the forces within his body, preparing himself for the struggle ahead.

He remained within the pool of blood for several days, taking in the vast amount of power it contained. It was an opportunity the likes of which he wouldn’t see again soon, so he wouldn’t dare waste it.

After some days, the power in the blood began to grow thinner, and he knew the moment had come — it was time to attack the Blood magic, and eradicate it once and for all.

This was something that could not wait any longer. He could starve the Blood magic of power for a time, but only if he kept his attention focused. And while the constant supply of power in the blood around him had kept him awake so far, he would eventually need to sleep — and the moment he did, he knew the Blood magic would once more try to devour him.

He took a moment to steel his resolve and prepare his mind for the battle ahead. While he was confident in his chances, he knew that succeeding would require all his willpower, and perhaps some luck as well.

Then, he focused all the devouring power he had gained from the dragon blood, and willed it to attack the Blood magic — to devour it the way it had tried to devour him.

Yet the battle that Arran expected did not happen.

While the Blood magic furiously resisted his attack, its resistance lasted only moments. The devouring power the dragon blood had imparted on Arran overwhelmed it with ease, then viciously began to consume it just a moment later.

His effortless victory left Arran baffled. The Blood magic had nearly killed him, but it completely lacked the strength to resist the devouring power from the dragon’s blood. It was like a flimsy wooden sword being struck by a heavy steel blade, collapsing almost instantly.

Between the two devouring forces, it almost seemed like one was an inferior copy of the other, forced to recognize its master when the two confronted each other.

Arran didn’t have the time to give the matter more thought. As his body devoured the Blood magic, its power was forcibly seized, and all the might the Blood magic had acquired for itself now became Arran’s in an instant.

The sudden influx of strength briefly overwhelmed him, and even after what he’d already taken from the dragon’s blood, he could feel his body take another step forward.

Then, the swell of energy suddenly ended, disappearing as quickly as it had come.

Arran did not dare feel relieved just yet. Hurriedly, he checked whether any of the Blood magic remained, examining every shred of power he could feel within his body.

What he found left him confused. The parasitic force itself had completely disappeared, but it seemed as if the devouring force from the dragon blood had subtly changed in absorbing it.

This didn’t exactly worry Arran — he could feel that it was fully under his control, which had never been true for the Blood magic — but it did leave him with even more unanswered questions.

He forced himself to put the matter aside, at least for the moment. The immediate threat was gone, and there was little point in worrying about things he could not change.

Instead, he focused on draining the last of the power from the blood pool. This took him several more hours, and when he had finally absorbed as much as he could, he began to move toward the surface.

His head rose from the crimson liquid a moment later, and as he opened his eyes, he saw Snowcloud and Crassus sitting on the ground a dozen paces away.

Both of them were facing the blood pool, and it was clear that they had been expecting Arran’s emergence. Yet as he surfaced, although their expressions were relieved, their eyes still held a trace of worry.

"I made it," Arran said, a smile appearing on his blood-covered face.

At this, relief appeared in their eyes. They had obviously feared that what emerged from the pool might not be Arran anymore, but now, that fear faded away.

"You had me worried," Snowcloud said, a soft smile on her face as she looked at Arran. "What about the Blood magic? Is it still inside of you?"

"I destroyed it," Arran replied. He turned to Crassus, then added, "And I have you to thank for that. I don’t how I’ll ever be able to repay the debt I owe you."

"A change of clothes would go a long way, if you have any in those magic bags of yours." There was a cheerful grin on the man’s ruddy face as he spoke, and he seemed every bit as relieved as Snowcloud at seeing Arran alive and unharmed.

Arran now noticed that Crassus was wearing a robe several sizes too small for his large frame, and he remembered that the man’s clothes had been torn apart in his transformation. The tiny robe he wore must have belonged to Snowcloud.

"Of course," Arran said, quickly producing several sets of clothes along with some rags and several jugs of water. After spending the better part of a week in a pool of blood, he also needed a change of clothes — as well as some serious scrubbing.

While Arran quickly cleaned himself up, he asked, "Did the Realm Opening Pill work?"

Crassus grinned. Instead of answering, he opened his mouth, then exhaled a thick stream of fire. When the fire dissipated a few seconds later, there was a content look on his face. "I’ve always wanted to be able to do that."

Arran was relieved to see the man had opened his Fire Realm successfully, but then, a thought occurred to him. "You don’t have any void bags yet, do you?"

When Crassus shook his head, Arran took one of his own, then handed it to Crassus and explained how to use it. He owed the man a vast debt of gratitude for saving his life, and while a void bag was hardly valuable, he knew Crassus would enjoy having one.

He would find a way to repay the man’s kindness in the future, but for now, this was the best he could do.

Crassus reacted much like he expected, immediately enthusiastic at receiving a magic item he could control with his newly gained powers. As Crassus began experimenting with the void bag, Arran turned his attention to Snowcloud.

"Did you use the dragon blood?" he asked immediately.

She nodded in response. "I did. Although I only took three drops, it should be enough to let me cure Grandfather."

Arran coughed, slightly embarrassed as he recalled his decision to drain an entire mug of it. But then, his expression grew serious. "So we will travel back to the Sixth Valley now?"

"We will, but I fear the journey will be dangerous." Snowcloud paused for a moment, a pained look appearing in her eyes. "From what Crassus told me, my mother obtained the cure in the mountains, then left Relgard soon after that. And with her power, the journey back should have held little danger."

"Someone must have captured her after she left." Arran did not mention the other possibility, although he thought it more likely. Either way, the conclusion was the same: Snowcloud’s mother had encountered enemies on the journey back — enemies who wanted to stop her from returning with the cure.

Snowcloud nodded slowly, the pain she felt still clear in her eyes. "But that’s not all. In Goldhaven, I told you that only people within the Shadowflame Society would know what she was after." She paused for a moment, then continued, "And if they caught her after she left Relgard, they knew where she went."

Arran immediately understood the meaning of her words, and he cursed under his breath.

"So they’ll know where we’ll be, too," he said. It wasn’t a question.

"And that we succeeded," Snowcloud confirmed. She smiled wryly. "I didn’t realize it before, but that must be why they didn’t come after us earlier. A novice and a recruit should have had no chance of defeating an adult dragon — they expected us to die here. And if we had, there would be no need for them to get involved."

"But we didn’t," Arran replied. "And once we leave the mountains, we’ll be hunted down like rats." His expression turned gloomy as he understood the implications.

Snowcloud’s mother had been strong enough to obtain an adult dragon’s blood with just her own power, yet she had still been captured by her enemies. If Arran and Snowcloud had to face those same enemies, their chances of escaping would be non-existent.

Yet after a moment’s thought, Arran’s gaze turned to Crassus, who was still happily playing with the void bag.

Perhaps they had a way to escape after all.