Karn's anger surged within him, threatening to consume him as he faced the smirking trickster. However, he maintained his composure, a small part of his mind taking control, commanding him to think clearly and resist being further deceived by the trickster.
His eyes frantically watched the trickster. With the wickedly curved dagger clutched in her hand, he realised there was only one course of action he could take.
Swiftly, he lunged forward, aiming to snatch the woman's wrist to disarm her. But in an instant, she leaped back, evading his grasp, and emitted a snarl. She sounded like a wild animal. It was then Karn's eyes focused on the boy's face lying on the floor. He was shocked to see that it was a younger version of himself.
"What?" Karn uttered, his determination waning as confusion and astonishment took hold.
The trickster's laughter echoed through the air as she charged toward him, brandishing the dagger and slashing wildly in his direction. Karn's eyes remained fixed on the dagger's tip, narrowly evading each desperate swing.
As he watched her desperate attacks, a surge of confidence coursed through him. He knew he had a chance. She was far more exhausted than he was.
"So, that's why you wanted my back," Karn remarked, his voice laced with understanding. “Can’t scale the mountain on your own?”
The trickster attempted another slash, but her motion halted midway, interrupted by an unexpected vocal jab.
"Of course, you stupid fool," she retorted, taken aback by the sudden interruption. "I've been trying to climb this mountain for decades!"
Karn opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, the trickster swiftly lunged with yet another stab. Once again, Karn managed to evade the attack.
Although he maintained the upper hand, albeit remotely, Karn gritted his teeth and took a step back, creating a slight distance between them. He needed her to exhaust herself a little more before making his move.
"And the boy?" Karn questioned, a note of accusation colouring his voice. "Why did you kill him?"
"For the same reason you're here, you idiot!" the trickster snapped, her words dripping with defiance and disdain.
Karn's father had made a promise that if he scaled the mountain, he would regain control of his body in the real world. Time was slipping away, and with the lifeless body of the boy now sprawled on the ground, Karn wondered if that critical moment had passed.
He shook such thoughts off, as he knew it no longer mattered. He had to stop this woman.
The trickster emitted a frustrated screech and sprinted toward him. Karn, recognizing the precariousness of their footing on the spire's peak, moved quickly, using the same footwork he had honed while scaling the treacherous mountain. The rock beneath him rolled as his feet shifted. The debris skidded away just as the trickster lunged forward.
Her footing faltered, causing her to stumble face-first into the jagged stones. A piercing screech of pain escaped her lips as she looked up at Karn with pure hatred in her eyes. More clay-like substances dropped from her face as she wailed. No longer did he face the cheeky woman from before; instead, before him stood an emaciated skeletal crone, her skin leathery and features sunken. The way she breathed and moved sent shivers down his spine, as if she were a walking corpse empowered by dark magic.
Letting out another long wail, the creature lunged at Karn once more, dagger in hand. This time, however, Karn seized the opportunity. He shifted forward, using the creature's fatigue against her, and grabbed her wrist just before the dagger could strike.
Karn's determination propelled him forward, and he used his entire weight to bring them both crashing to the ground, relying on his superior mass to overpower her. Upon impact, pain shot through them.
Karn grunted with the effort.
Amid their struggle, the dagger became a deadly focal point. They wrestled, desperately struggling for control. Karn's eyes widened at the amount of strength the skeleton creature could muster. Yet, he tensed his muscles and, with two firm hands, seized her wrist and twist it.
The dagger veered close to the creature's chest, poised to strike, but to Karn's dismay, it too transformed into lumps of clay, rendering it useless.
"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration.
The creature let out another piercing screech and leaned in to sink her teeth into Karn's neck. Agonizing pain coursed through him as her wiry, rotten teeth dug deep into his skin. Enraged, he flailed about, but she clung tenaciously, refusing to release her grip.
His vision blurred, and a familiar shadow flashed in his mind. Dark shapes materialised over his hands, resembling claws.
As his anger surged, the claws that had initially appeared as dark shapes over his hands grew more prominent, their ethereal existence solidifying into tangible reality. They transformed into razor-sharp appendages, gleaming with a menacing aura. His skin hardened, and his body elongated. The creature whimpered as her teeth snapped against his toughened skin. With each passing moment, the claws grew sharper and more pronounced, their jagged edges glinting in the dim light.
The skeletal creature, wide-eyed with terror, witnessed the transformation in awe and horror. The realisation of Karn's newfound strength overwhelmed her, shattering any remnants of her initial confidence.
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Karn attempted to shout at her, but instead, a thunderous roar erupted from his transformed form.
Paralysed with fear, the creature scrambled away, crawling on the rocky floor, her face upturned in a display of utter terror.
Karn looked down at his form in awe. His hands and legs had undergone a magnificent metamorphosis, turning into mighty weapons adorned with glistening white scales and formidable claws. Extending from his sides were magnificent wings, their expanse reaching out into the vast sky above. In this state, he felt an unprecedented connection with the mountain, sensing its every contour and intricacy down to the minutest details of the spire.
His narrowed eyes locked onto the cowering creature before him, his draconic instincts taking hold. Summoning his entire being to the forefront, he opened his maw wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth, and clamped his massive jaws around her. With a swift flick of his head, he tore her from the rocky floor and propelled her far off the side of the mountain. Her piercing wails echoed through the air as she flew, her fate sealed by Karn's raw power.
Breathing heavily, Karn stood tall in his transformed state, still grappling with the magnitude of his form.
It was in that moment that he heard a voice, young and filled with genuine admiration.
"You did it," spoke the young voice.
Turning around, Karn's gaze fell upon the unharmed young boy who stood before him, a warm smile gracing his face. Confusion mingled with amazement as Karn struggled to find words.
"What... who are you?" Karn muttered, his voice reverting to its human form, the dragon guise dissipating. "And what just happened?"
The boy's smile persisted as he spoke, a glimmer of pride evident in his voice. "You have fused with the spirit of the White Drakon," he said, his words carrying a weight of significance.
Karn furrowed his brow in confusion. "The white what?" he asked, struggling to comprehend.
Once again, the boy smiled, and Karn couldn't help but notice a peculiar sense of patience and wisdom in his youthful demeanour, as if he possessed the wisdom of the ages. "Surely you've seen the tapestries," the boy continued.
Karn nodded, recalling the intricate tapestries that adorned the walls of Polliwog tower.
"The original spirit that bestowed our people with the strength to build an empire has been passed down through the bloodline," the boy explained.
As the realisation sank in. However, a flicker of confusion crossed his face as he raised a question. "Bloodline?"
In response, the boy pointed towards Karn's heart and then to his own. A swirl of luminous white light engulfed the boy, causing Karn to avert his gaze momentarily. When the radiance subsided, the boy had transformed into an ancient man, his long white beard flowing and a silver crown adorning his regal visage. A smile etched with pride graced the old man's face.
"You, my boy, are of my bloodline. I believe your father is, in fact, my grandson," the old man revealed, his voice carrying the weight of a forgotten era.
Karn's jaw dropped. "And you are? I hope I'm not being rude or anything," he stammered.
The old man chuckled, his smile widening to his eyes as he affectionately regarded the cheeky youngster. "You remind me of my eldest," he remarked, a hint of sorrow momentarily passing over his countenance before he resumed his smiled once more.
"I am the one with the title of White Dragon, the first King of Brancourt, Lord BalDrakkus and the current lord of this realm within the book," the old man declared, his words echoing with authority and ancient power.
Karn shifted uneasily, grappling with the weight of this revelation, and patiently awaited his great grandfather's explanation.
"You have successfully completed the trials of the five virtues of our house, and as such, you are eligible to receive the inheritance of your forebears," the old man revealed.
"Inheritance? Like... a kingdom?” Karn frowned. “I don't want to rule.”
"No, my boy," the king replied. "The time when our family claimed authority over the land has long passed."
Karn nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as the burden of ruling a country dissipated. "So, our family's role is to protect the people, not to control them," he mused, finding solace in this newfound understanding.
"What about the current king?" Karn asked.
The White Dragon scoffed in disdain. "He is nothing more than a puppet entangled in the web of corruption. He possesses no true Drakon spirit," he declared, his tone dripping with disappointment.
Karn's mind whirled with thoughts, and he posed another question. "Does he desire the book to become a dragon, to become an invincible ruler?"
BalDrakkus let out a weary sigh. "No, Lorthac does not truly desire the book. He does not understand its power. Another being seeks it—the creator of the book, who now roams as a trickster among mortals. However, I believe he knows he cannot wield its true power himself, either. That is why he manipulates the king," the White Dragon explained, his gaze focused and intense.
“But I can,” Karn said cautiously.
BalDrakkus nodded.
"And the king?" Karn prodded further.
"He has become consumed by the power he wields. Years of corruption have tarnished the land and shattered the souls of the people. He must be stopped," the White Dragon affirmed.
Karn swallowed hard, realizing the weight of the task before him.
"Karn, you must steel yourself," BalDrakkus urged, gesturing to the vast expanse of the mountain. "This place is not where your true body lies. It awaits you in Ren Daral. You must leave this realm, reclaim your true form."
Karn glanced at his hands, now devoid of the magnificent dragon attributes. A flicker of doubt crossed his face as he questioned, "Will I be able to transform there?"
The White Dragon's expression turned sombre as he regarded his great grandson. "The White Drakon has bestowed its spirit upon you. However, in a world devoid of magic, your physical form cannot hold the same power," he explained.
Panic surged within Karn's mind as he grappled with the realisation that he would be thrust into a world where he lacked the means to defend himself.
The White Dragon observed Karn closely, patiently waiting for the young man to arrive at his own understanding and resolution.
“The book?”
The White Dragon nodded approvingly.
"How do I leave this place?" Karn asked, his gaze fixed on his great grandfather.
A warm smile graced the White Dragon's aged face as he approached Karn with purpose. With a hand weathered by time yet radiating a comforting warmth, he gently touched Karn's forehead. In that fleeting moment, Karn felt the softness of his great grandfather's skin against his own.
And then, everything changed.
The world around Karn dissolved, as if melting away into fragments of reality. Colours blurred, shapes distorted, and a sensation of weightlessness enveloped him. He felt himself being pulled away from the mountaintop, from the spire, and from the realm of the book.
As the disorienting transition unfolded, Karn's surroundings transformed into an ethereal void, devoid of any physical reference points. The only constant was the presence of his great grandfather, now an incorporeal spirit beside him.
With a final reassurance, the White Dragon's voice echoed through the void. "Remember, Karn, the spirit of the White Drakon resides within you. Tap into its strength, its wisdom, and trust in your own resilience. You will find your way."
As his great grandfather's words faded, Karn took a deep breath, readying himself for what lay ahead. The Veil of Worlds beckoned, an enigmatic threshold leading to the realm where his true form awaited.