It all began one winter night.
Snow covered the earth in thick white sheets while dense fog crept along forgotten trails.
At that time, every soul that called this land home was peacefully asleep, far from the cold and the dark outside.
Life in the region had ground to a halt, leaving only peace and quiet.
Until…
something shattered it.
Tick…
Tock…
Tick…
Tock…
A strange sound broke the stillness.
It wasn’t the whisper of the wind or the cry of a bird.
It was a precise, steady clicking, something utterly alien to the natural world.
Tick…
Tock…
Tick…
Tock…
In this remote corner of the world, no one had ever heard a noise like that.
The unnatural echo crawled across hills and through trees, invading the peaceful countryside like an uninvited guest.
Yet very few could hear it, and fewer still dared to investigate.
Still, curiosity got the better of one farmer, pushing him out of bed to discover what was happening on this strange night.
He threw on his coat and stepped out into the cold world outside, ready to confront that strange noise.
He looked up at night sky and, for an instant that would be seared into his memory forever, saw the impossible.
A colossal metal ship was crossing the night sky,.
It was a true leviathan of the air, vast enough to blot out the stars and made of steel and spinning gears.
Above its deck, a massive clock tower loomed over the sleeping world below, emitting a steady, rhythmic round that echoed across the night.
Tick…
Tock…
Tick…
Tock…
The farmer blinked, unable to fully process what he had just seen.
He rubbed his head, went back inside, and convinced himself it was all a figment of his imagination…
or of a drink too many.
But it wasn’t.
What he’d seen that night was real.
And what was about to happen would change history forever.
A colossal shadow streaked across the sky with relentless determination, chasing the vessel through the night.
As it closed in, the ship’s alarms blared, immediately activating its defense systems.
When the threat finally came into view, the hooded crew of that immense machine could do nothing but stare in a mixture of awe and horror.
It was a dragon.
A creature of legend, long thought to be extinct for millennia…
and yet here, on this winter night, a dragon had appeared once more in the world.
It had black scales that gleamed under the pale moonlight and a long white mane.
Its eyes, white and almost empty, locked onto the vessel with primordial fury.
And then, an earth-shattering roar split the air.
In mere seconds the dragon’s chest swelled and a searing torrent of flame erupted from its throat, unleashing a storm of fire and fury upon the ship.
A clash of titans had begun.
The vessel wasted no time responding.
Energy cannons flared to life, firing a barrage of luminous blasts at the creature.
But not a single one found its mark.
The dragon wove with impossible agility through the clouds, dodging the attacks with ease.
And suddenly, with a sharp turn, it dove toward the ship with blade-like claws.
As it approached, alarms shrieked and magic shields flickered to life.
But it was too late.
This was strength beyond anything they could have imagined.
The dragon slammed into the metal hull, sinking its claws into the structure and tearing away steel plates as if they were paper.
The cannons swiveled and aimed directly at its body.
It had gotten too close.
Now it was an easy target.
A hail of shots lit up the night, engulfing the dragon in explosions of smoke and energy.
But when the smoke cleared…
There was no trace of the beast.
At the top of the clock tower, the lord of the vessel watched the battle through a multitude of magic screens.
Darkness shrouded his features, revealing nothing save his slender frame and two eyes that glowed with a cold blue light.
His gaze swept every corner of the battlefield, searching for any sign of the beast.
There was nothing.
Their foe had vanished completely.
Then a new alarm blared through the control room.
An intruder had just boarded the ship.
The vessel’s security forces sprang into action.
A platoon of soldiers advanced with mechanical precision through the metal corridors, their movements synchronized with unbreakable discipline.
They weren’t flesh and blood, but steel-and-gear automatons with a humanoid form.
A single luminous eye crowned each of their faces, linking them directly to their master’s screens.
The entire squad pushed into the breach zone, now choked with a dense cloud of smoke and dust that cut visibility to nearly nothing.
The platoon advanced slowly but steadily, ready to face the intruder.
Suddenly, a powerful thud echoed through the structure, shattering the silence.
Then another.
The soldiers raised their spears.
Their enemy was about to arrive.
And then…
a figure emerged from the haze.
It was no longer a dragon they faced.
In its place, an old man with pitch-black skin and a white mane walked toward them with unshakable calm.
His appearance resembled none of the known Twelve Races of the world.
His eyes, blank and white as fog, settled on the soldiers without a trace of fear.
He carried no weapon.
For he didn’t need one.
Detecting his presence, the automatons charged in formation, following their programming with absolute precision.
But the old man saw them coming.
He glided between their attacks with impossible grace and, in less than a heartbeat, his fists came down upon them with devastating force.
Steel crunched.
Gears flew.
In the blink of an eye, half of them already lay in pieces.
The survivors tried to regroup, but it was useless.
The old man extended a hand and a pulsing sphere of fire took shape in his palm.
With a swift motion he hurled it at the floor, unleashing a devastating explosion of flame that flooded the entire corridor.
Once the smoke cleared, the automatons were little more than scorched scrap.
Finally, the corridor fell silent.
Taking advantage of this brief moment of peace, the old man closed eyes to feel the magical energy around him.
Though his surroundings reeked of malice and corruption, he could sense a faint thread of light guiding him deeper into the vessel.
There, lay his target.
He opened his eyes and, with unshakable determination, ran into the darkness.
The ship’s master had seen everything from the peak of his tall tower.
He’d watched the intruder tear through the ship with alarming ease, reducing his soldiers to scrap without breaking a sweat.
He’d underestimated him.
But at the same time, this problem could become a new opportunity.
If that power were in his hands, his long-sought mission might finally be within grasp.
While the risk was immense, the reward was even greaters.
With that thought, he rose and left his control room.
This was a problem he had to solve himself.
The old man finally reached his destination.
Before him, a towering steel door blocked access to the ship’s most important chamber.
Without a second’s hesitation he channeled his power into his fist and drove it into the metal surface, sending the massive gate crashing to the floor with a tremendous boom.
The path was clear.
As he crossed the threshold, his eyes swept the chamber with a hunter’s precision, searching for any sign of danger.
But the room was empty.
All around him, a tangle of machinery and mechanical contraptions hummed with a constant drone.
Shadows and steam danced among the gears and pipes, filling the place with a grim, oppressive weight.
But something stood out amid the darkness.
In the center of the room, tethered by cables to an immense machine, lay a deep blue egg.
The magical energy pulsing within it was unmistakable.
It was pure, shining…
and that machine was draining it.
The old man approached without hesitation and ran his hands over its surface, feeling the life resting inside.
Then he gripped it firmly and, with a single motion, snapped the bonds holding it captive and cradled it in his arms.
Now it was free from the dark forces that held it.
Suddenly, an unsettling sound echoed through the chamber.
Tick…
Tock…
Tick…
Tock…
The stranger whipped around.
He was no longer alone.
A figure watched him from the dark threshold.
Though its features were hidden by shadow, the old man could feel the immense magical energy radiating from its body.
There was no doubt.
The master of the ship had arrived.
As he stepped further into the chamber, his features became more visible.
The dragon could see that his entire body was wrapped in blackened bandages and metal plates, fully concealing his skin and identity.
And yet nothing was as unsettling as the steel mask covering his face.
It was plain and featureless — just two circular slits where eyes should be, glowing with a cold, inhuman blue light.
“Welcome, great dragon, to my humble home,” his sharp, metallic voice echoed through the chamber.
“You can’t imagine how pleased I am you actually came.”
The dark-skinned man held the egg firmly as he studied his adversary.
Each of the stranger’s movements was precise and calculated, as if he were a machine, slowly unleashing his dark power.
His power, his mask, the coldness in his tone…
There was no doubt.
He faced a Xelor, member of a race of mysterious sorcerers who could manipulate time itself.
“For your own sake, step aside, Xelor.” His voice rang with absolute conviction.
“Grougaloragran has no time to waste on the likes of you.”
His words had no effect.
Instead of fear, the Xelor seemed filled with anticipation and euphoria.
The old man felt magical energy flow through his enemy with renewed intensity.
One thing was clear.
He’d come here to fight.
“Do you truly believe I’d let you escape, old man?
Or should I say…
Grougaloragran.” He let out a sinister laugh.
“Your Wakfu levels are the highest I’ve ever seen…
Even more valuable than that egg’s.”
He paused.
Then he spoke three words with chilling certainty.
“I need it.”
With that, the Xelor unsheathed his weapon, a long, sharp blade resembling the hand of a clock.
With a calculated motion he raised it and charged the blade with vibrant blue energy.
But Grougaloragran didn’t flinch.
There wasn’t even trace of fear on his face.
His muscles tensed and an ancient fury blazed in his eyes.
He clutched the egg tight and extended one hand with unwavering resolve.
A small flame danced in his palm, crackling with the fire of his very soul.
“You’re a fool if you think you can defeat me,” the old man growled.
“If you want my Wakfu so badly…”
The flame grew and twisted with a golden blaze.
“Come and get it.”
The Xelor didn’t hesitate.
He merely looked his adversary straight in the eye.
“With pleasure.”
A beam of blue energy erupted from the tip of his blade, tearing through the air at superhuman speed.
The duel had begun anew.
Grougaloragran responded without hesitation, hurling the flame from his palm toward the incoming beam.
Fire and magic collided in the middle of the chamber, unleashing an explosion that filled the space with smoke and sparks.
After the blast, the Xelor scanned the room, trying to detect his adversary’s energy for another strike.
But the dragon had already moved.
In the blink of an eye, Grougaloragran appeared behind him and struck with everything he had.
The Xelor tried to conjure a protective barrier, but it was too late.
The enemy was too fast even for him.
The dragon’s attack launched him through the air and slammed his body against one of the chamber’s cold metal walls, fully shattering his defenses.
The sorcerer crashed through several of his own machines, smashing them to pieces in his wake.
For a moment, everything fell silent.
Then the Xelor rose from the wreckage.
His body was charred and broken, and even his mask had a visible dent, but he showed no sign of retreat.
“I expected nothing less…” he whispered, his voice brimming with anticipation.
“This is going to be a fight for the ages!”
The sorcerer vanished before the old dragon’s eyes with a snap of his fingers.
Now it was his turn.
Without warning, the Xelor appeared behind Grougaloragran and delivered a lethal slash with his blade.
The edge whistled through the air and, in an instant, bit into his enemy’s body.
Grougaloragran stifled a grunt as pain seared across his torso.
But this wouldn’t make him back down.
The old man whirled with fury, ready to crush his attacker, but his strike only hit empty air.
His enemy was already gone.
Then he felt another spike of pain.
Another cut.
Then another.
The sorcerer reappeared again and again, striking with absolute precision and vanishing before the dragon could respond.
Grougaloragran tried to match his rhythm, but his foe’s supernatural speed was beyond his reach.
If this kept up, his body would eventually give in to his wounds.
Unfortunately for him, his weakness wouldn’t go unnoticed.
“What’s the matter, Grougaloragran?” His mocking voice echoed through the chamber.
“Am I too fast for you?
Or has the great dragon gone old and slow?”
The dragon didn’t respond.
Instead, he gritted his teeth and shielded the egg with all his strength.
No matter what happened, he couldn’t let it be harmed.
He took a deep breath.
Even though pain screamed across his body, he tried his best to suppress it.
Then he closed his eyes and began to focus.
Now he could feel the magic flowing around him.
Though he couldn’t see his enemy, the Xelor’s dark energy was unmistakable.
He just needed to wait for the right moment.
The Xelor lunged at his flank and tried to strike again.
Seeing his enemy’s closed eyes, he smiled behind his mask, confident that victory was already his.
That confidence would soon cost him dearly.
Before the blade could fully descend, Grougaloragran spun, fast as lightning, and caught the magic blade mid-swing with his bare hand.
The sorcerer faltered for an second.
An second too long.
The old man looked straight at his foe and, with a roar that shook the walls, opened his mouth.
From the deepest reaches of his chest erupted a golden river of flame consumed everything in its path, setting the whole room ablaze.
This was the power of a true dragon.
The Xelor had barely a second to react.
His fingers traced arcane seals at supernatural speed.
The price of such a spell would be devastating.
But the payoff was worth it.
“Desyne Tempus.”
A burst of temporal energy exploded from his body, expanding in every direction like an invisible shockwave.
And then…
everything stopped.
Grougaloragran watched helplessly as his flame hung suspended in the air, frozen mere inches from his adversary’s face.
He tried to move, but his body wouldn’t respond.
Not a single muscle obeyed.
Every cell of his body was trapped in a field of absolute stasis.
He couldn’t even blink.
The dragon was trapped in an endless second.
The Xelor advanced toward his frozen adversary, stopping before him and placing a hand upon his enemy’s forehead.
As he made contact with that magical energy, adrenaline surged through him.
This essence was the purest he had ever drained.
“You forced me to burn more Wakfu than I expected, you wretched old man,” he spat.
“But it doesn’t matter now.
It all ends here.
Thanks to your life force, I’ll recover everything I’ve lost.”
Then the process began.
The dragon’s ancestral energy flowed from Grougaloragran into the Xelor, flooding through his body and filling him newfould power.
But in his arrogance, he’d forgotten to pay attention to his surroundings.
He didn’t notice the shift in the air.
The atmosphere, once still, began to tremble with energy.
He didn’t see the subtle glow pulsing within the egg the dragon protected.
A living, latent light, throbbing like a star about to burst.
By the time the Xelor realized what was happening, it was far too late.
A primordial roar ripped through the chamber.
The stasis spell shattered completely, breaking apart like glass.
Now, time flowed once more.
Grougaloragran was free once more.
The ancient dragon charged with terrifying speed.
Before his foe could react, he closed his fist and drove it into the Xelor’s chest with the fury of a raging storm.
This time, there was no mercy.
The dragon’s eyes blazed with an ancient, ruthless light.
He inhaled deeply, filling his chest with condensed fire, and before his enemy could utter a word, a gesture, a plea…
he exhaled.
A searing inferno erupted across the entire chamber, engulfing the Xelor completely.
The sorcerer, once so confident, let out a harrowing scream and crumpled to the floor.
Grougaloragran watched him fall.
Though his body was covered in wounds, he stood tall with indomitable dignity.
He looked down at his enemy.
“You’ve made the worst mistake of your existence by challenging Grougaloragran the Eternal.
I hope I never see your face again.”
After that devastating attack, the reactor chamber had become a living inferno.
The magical machinery collapsed around him, spewing sparks and smoke.
Pipes burst.
Lights flashed red.
What had once been a mechanical marvel was now a devastated ruin.
And yet, from among the embers, the Xelor rose once more.
The mighty sorcerer had been reduced to a pitiful state.
His entire body was charred and broken, barely able to stand.
Even his mask was cracked, revealing wrinkled, scarred skin beneath.
Residual traces of temporal magic still crackled across his bandages, the last vestiges of a half-formed shield that had saved him from total annihilation.
But even in this wretched state, he let out a sinister laugh, showing his enemy it wasn’t over yet.
“This isn’t over, dragon,” he rasped.
“I may have underestimated you today…
but when we meet again things will be very different.
Time is on my side.
And sooner or later…
your Wakfu will be mine.”
And, with a snap of his fingers, he vanished.
Grougaloragran was alone once more.
Though he’d emerged victorious, the wounds from the battle were catching up with him.
A groan of pain escaped his lips as he dropped to one knee, still clutching the egg he’d protected at all costs.
He couldn’t stay here.
He needed to get out of this metal hell.
His eyes fell on the steel floor.
He poured every last drop of energy into one final strike, slamming his fist down with fury, and crashing through layer after layer of steel.
Finally, a breach opened to the outside world.
A gust of night wind blew through the chamber.
Though his strength was failing, Grougaloragran smiled.
At last…
he was free.
He’d saved what he loved most, and now he could leave this cursed place behind.
Without hesitation, he leaped into the void, plummeting through the night sky.
Then, a new sensation coursed through his body.
A current of energy pulsed through his arms.
The egg he’d protected so fiercely was starting to glow with a blinding light.
Its surface, once smooth and serene, now vibrated with force and began to fill with brilliant cracks.
The eternal dragon simply watched in silence, feeling his heart beat in sync with the egg.
This was the moment he spent centuries waiting for.
A new life was about to be born.
If you are reading this, I wanted to thank you for reading this chapter.
It’s been a lot of work to write this and English isn’t even the main language I write in (as this story was initially published in Spanish), so any feedback is welcome.
This is just the beginning of an epic adventure which will go far beyond this night, so I hope you stick around for this journey to the very end.
This is my first major story in English, so I still have a lot to learn and improve, so any advice is welcome.
¡I hope to see you next chapter!