After a full day and night of traveling across the continent, Soren finally arrived at Droc, the border city between Vulcanis and Exodus.
Ignus descended as they neared the border, his massive wings tilting to catch the ash-laden air.
They broke through the clouds, and the continent unveiled itself below—a breathtaking and brutal sight.
The lush green landscape Soren had known in Genesity was gone.
In its place stretched a sprawling world of gray stone, crisscrossed by rivers of molten lava that glowed like bleeding wounds across the earth.
Most of the land was uninhabitable, dotted with mountains and volcanoes that spewed plumes of smoke and fire into the sky.
Soren’s breath caught in his throat—a mixture of awe and dread.
This was his new home for the foreseeable future and he would have to get used to the depressingly beautiful sight.
As they flew deeper into the volcanic region, the towering walls of Droc emerged on the horizon—the only settlement near the northern border of Vulcanis.
The fortress-city stretched as far as the eye could see, its reinforced iron walls rising like a scar against the ashen sky.
A moat of molten lava encircled it, bubbling and hissing like a living thing.
Etched into the walls, massive orange runes pulsed with a heartbeat-like glow that served as a warning to any who dared approach.
Black plumes of smoke billowed from within the city, blotting the sky in a permanent sea of darkness.
Guardtowers pierced the darkness, their watchful eyes scanning thousands of miles in every direction for any sign of attack.
As they drew closer, Soren realized the walls he saw were only the first line of defense.
Beyond them stretched a barren wasteland of stone and lava—hundreds, maybe thousands of miles—until another wall appeared.
The pattern repeated, layer after layer, until they finally reached the heart of Droc.
The central city was a densely packed maze of towering stone buildings and steel bunkers that clawed at the sky.
The streets teemed with life—merchants hawking their wares, soldiers marching in formation, and civilians pointing upward, their faces a mix of wonder and fear as they glimpsed the dragon overhead.
“Woah,” Soren breathed, his eyes tracing the impossible scale of Droc.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.”
The world outside Ignus’s barrier sharpened as they slowed, the blur of speed giving way to clarity.
“You get to see this sight every day when you’re a dragon,” Ignus replied, his voice dripping with pride.
“Maybe one day, you’ll earn the right if you find yourself a dragon wife.”
Ignus roared at his own joke, the vibration rattling through Soren’s bones.
The central city walls were reinforced with materials that looked like steel but felt different.
Likely the bones and hides of powerful beasts.
Runes of every color blazed across their surface, enchanting the city in a magnificent, multicolored glow.
This was the front line—the iron shield of Vulcanis against the treacherous Empire of the North, Exodus.
Ignus let out an earth-shattering roar that reverberated through the air and nearly burst Soren’s eardrums.
Soren clamped his hands over his ears and channeled syntropy to dull the ringing as the dragon’s cry faded.
Ignus banked sharply, angling toward a landing platform in the central fortress that loomed over the city.
Soren tightened his grip, anchoring himself with syntropy as the dragon descended with a violent impact that nearly sent him tumbling.
He steadied himself on the dragon’s broad back, adjusting the Dream Sword at his waist and securing his cloak as the translucent barrier around him thinned and vanished.
Closing his eyes one last time, Soren checked his internal state.
Syntropy hummed calmly in his core—more responsive than before—while Domain Energy pooled deep within his soul, replenished and ready.
He opened his eyes and exhaled.
His moment of peace was over. You are reading on g.com, the official source.
Dozens of Droc soldiers stationed around the platform snapped to attention as Ignus landed, their eyes wide with a mixture of fear and respect.
Their dark-iron plate armor bore the emblem of the Northern Vanguard—a black wolf head superimposed over castle walls.
From the arched entryway, a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped onto the platform.
He wore no helmet, revealing a jawline crossed with old scars and short, steel-gray hair.
His heavy pauldrons creaked with each step, and the air around him seemed to thicken with the crushing weight of a Transcendent’s presence.
Soren jumped off Ignus’s back, landing with a solid thud, and met the man’s gaze.
“I was told you were coming,” the man rumbled, his sharp eyes scanning Soren with an evaluating intensity.
“I am Commander Kay, leader of the Northern Vanguard—the first line of defense against Exodus.”
Kay’s aura pressed down like a physical weight, testing Soren’s resolve.
Soren’s jaw tightened, and he retaliated with a flare of his own presence—small, but defiant.
He was tired of the little charade Ascenders played, flashing their auras at newcomers like dogs marking territory.
But he supposed that was just what prideful Ascenders did.
Behind him, Ignus snorted a plume of hot smoke that washed across the platform before turning his massive head to give Soren a subtle wink.
“Don’t go dying on me, little ant,” Ignus rumbled, unfurling his wings.
“I’ll be waiting for you when the war inevitably starts.”
The dragon beat his powerful crimson wings and launched into the ashy sky.
The force of his ascent sent soldiers stumbling backward, clutching their equipment to keep from being thrown.
Soren watched Ignus disappear into the dark clouds before turning his attention back to Kay.
“I see you’ve made a friend of the dragon,” Kay said, his tone unreadable.
Soren glanced up at the dissipating smoke where Ignus had vanished.
“Yeah.
We got to know each other on the journey here.”
Kay studied him for a long moment, then turned and strode through the archway.
Soren fell into step behind him.
“Here, I will not be your friend,” Kay said, his voice echoing off the stone walls as they ventured deeper into the fortress.
“And you will not be assigned to me.
You’re being placed with the Seventh Reconnaissance Unit.”
Soren kept pace half a step behind the commander, taking in the fortress interior.
Dark stone and obsidian forged the walls, casting the halls in an ominous gloom.
The only light came from flickering torches and runes embedded in the stone, their red glow pulsing like veins of fire.
“What exactly is the Seventh Reconnaissance Unit?” Soren asked, watching soldiers snap to attention as they passed, their wary glances lingering on him.
Kay glanced back, his brow furrowing briefly before he faced forward.
“I see the Empress hasn’t told you anything,” Kay said, descending a spiraling staircase.
“They’re an elite Vanguard unit.
They breach enemy territory, scout Exodus movements, and eliminate high-priority threats.
They answer directly to the Empress, outside the Council’s influence.”
Soren absorbed the information, his mind churning. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
He had his reservations, but he kept silent, waiting to see how things would unfold.
“But first, you’ll be dropped off at the academy to train with your unit,” Kay continued, marching through the heavily fortified ground-floor halls.
“There, you’ll learn to master your abilities and sharpen your skills.”
“So I’m not being thrown straight into Exodus to start fighting?”
Kay froze mid-step.
He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing.
A question flickered across his scarred face before he sighed and pivoted back around.
“No,” he said after a pause, resuming his march with a hint of disappointment in his tone.
“You will not be dropped into a foreign Empire to fight with amateurish abilities.
The war isn’t likely to start for a while yet.”
Soren facepalmed, heat rising to his cheeks.
Of course he wouldn’t be shipped off to war right after awakening but after the chaos of the past few days, nothing would have surprised him.
“Got it, Commander,” he said, forcing the embarrassment from his voice.
He followed Kay in silence through the fortress’s grand halls.
His initial awkwardness faded as they entered a massive cathedral that dwarfed everything around him.
An eerie holiness settled over the space, as if the walls themselves were watching.
This was no ordinary cathedral but was dedicated to the Heavenly Angel, far larger than the one he’d seen in the Abyss.
Soldiers filled the pews, their heads bowed in fervent prayer, offerings scattered in baskets along the floor.
Runes pulsed along the towering walls, almost as if the Heavenly Angel heard their pleas—but Soren knew better.
The Angel hadn’t been present since the Chaotic Era, the last age of the Deities.
They emerged into a sprawling courtyard between the fortress and the central city, enclosed by towering walls that guarded the fortress.
“Commander Kay,” Soren asked, scanning the area.
“Where is my unit stationed?
Inside the fortress or outside?”
Kay ignored him, leading him through the heavily defended gate and past an enchanted drawbridge of light—runes powering its form over a moat of bubbling lava.
The commander finally stopped once they crossed the bridge.
He turned to Soren, a faint, wry smile tugging at the corner of his scarred mouth.
“You have a good head on your shoulders, cadet,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the central city.
“It’s right there.”
Soren followed his gaze only to see Kay pointing in the general direction of the north.
“What do you mean, Commander?
Wait—”
Kay started walking back toward the fortress, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder with a look that bordered on pity.
“Yes, the academy is just beyond the central city, somewhere up north.
Your first task is to brave the journey there.
I told the Empress to tell you to familiarize yourself with your abilities so the rest is on you.”
The drawbridge of radiant light vanished behind the devil—commander—and the gate slammed shut with a resounding finality.
‘Why can’t my life just be easy?’