Akuniryas and Marat walked and talked. Floating Isle was a realm where land and sky were one - buildings hovered in the air everywhere. Guardians riding bone steed and mages atop spirit wyrms flew in orderly patterns through the skies.

"These are spirit wyrms. Last time you were injured, so you couldn't ride one," said Marat, casually leading two of the blue-purple serpentine creatures from a tethered group.

Akuniryas took the reins of one, curiously inspecting the creature. The spirit wyrm was about eight feet long, its transparent, scaleless body like a brilliant drink in a glass cup. A saddle was affixed for riding.

"Stop gawking, these are just magic constructs, not the synthetic monsters from Natterian's research," Marat had already mounted his wyrm, playfully whistling at Akuniryas.

"So they have no life?"

"Can't say that either." With a tug of the reins, Marat's spirit wyrm lifted off, gliding towards the towering spires. "Legend says the spirit wyrms were created by the Magic Council based on an ancient spellbook, powered not by mana requiring a catalyst, but by a strange green force. Mage experiments reported a pungent sulfuric odor when this force was concentrated - the spirit wyrms' power core."

"At least they're more tractable now, though other risks are unknown." Marat leaned down to tease his mount, which reacted by closing its eyes in mock annoyance.

Akuniryas hesitated, then softly revealed his true purpose for coming. "What? You didn't come for the dragon?" Marat frowned. "I planned to show you the Council's in-depth analysis on the dragon, but your matter seems more pressing."

"Yes, I need your help understanding the origins of this power. If I can master it, perhaps I can slay that dragon," Akuniryas said solemnly.

Marat pondered this. "We mages have researched divine matters extensively, but I'll need Council approval to share substantive findings."

Akuniryas nodded heavily. Their destination had changed - now heading straight for the towering spire.

"Wait in my quarters. There are some investigative reports on the dragon you can review."

After an easy entry, Marat deposited Akuniryas in a small room on the third floor while he flew his spirit wyrm towards the immense tower spire.

The tense silence prompted Akuniryas to explore his surroundings rather than the dragon reports. "Is this a layout of Floating Isle?"

This was a spartan private chamber, modest even for a senior mage's quarters in the sacred spires. Aside from a plain iron bed, ancient tomes were piled everywhere - everyday items haphazardly stacked atop waist-high book columns. Maps of various locales adorned the walls, marked with scribbles that appeared to be Marat's mission planning notes.

One map depicted a cross-section of Floating Isle itself. Akuniryas noticed the towering spires were constructed atop the isle's highest ground, with a large unaccounted space beneath.

"Mages must use space efficiently. They likely have a use for that lower area." He idly speculated, then picked up the dragon reports.

"Let's see...the dragon was born around 380-400 years ago, not even at its full maturity of 700 years. Still a relatively young adult."

Akuniryas felt a chill. If the dragon could lay waste at this age, what devastation would it wreak at its peak?

He quickly flipped ahead several pages. According to the Grandmaster's observations at Mirror Lake, the dragon showed no abnormalities as a hatchling aside from rambunctiousness - a naive, dimwitted but stubbornly willful personality. If thwarted, it would lash out in raging tantrums.

"So this was just a simple-minded, foolish whelp? Yet its combat prowess is terrifying." Akuniryas recalled how the dragon, utterly unaware, could still evade his black arrows by detecting the faintest shifts in wind direction - reflexes matching the swiftest monsters.

The next few pages covered analyses of the dragon's paltry magical abilities. The rapidly flowing Mirror Lake obscured much of the dragon's later life.

The door abruptly opened then. "Let's go," Marat hovered outside. "The Council has convened an emergency session. You'll need to explain the situation."

Akuniryas was granted rare entry into the mage institution's innermost area. Beneath the Grandmaster's secluded utopia atop the spires, the seven-member Council convened in a great transparent chamber offering panoramic views of Floating Isle's varied architecture hovering in the sky above, with mirrors revealing real-time vistas of the outside world.

Seven mages in rainbow-colored robes sat elevated on high daises, a small chair and table centered before them. Akuniryas took the seat as Marat silently stood behind him.

"He has arrived. You may question him," Marat addressed the backlit silhouettes. In a whispered aside, he warned, "Watch the red and orange robes - newly elevated tower-tier mage formerly of the Empire. They obstructed our guardians last time."

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The eldest purple-robed deaconry spoke first with scholarly grace. "Greetings, hero of Morey Kingdom. Your sacrifices and bloodshed for your people deserve recognition. You have my personal respect."

Akuniryas was humbled by the approachable manner of Floating Isle's aloof high council.

"Let us proceed. Recount your full experiences in comprehensive detail, omitting nothing," the deaconry gently prompted.

So Akuniryas recounted everything from accepting the dragon slaying quest, his time in the royal vault, the sleepwalking trans-dimensional journey, and his body's bizarre changes.

"That's the crux - I don't care about this power's origins or risks. I only want to know how to fully unleash it to kill that dragon!"

The deaconrys fell silent for a long while, conferring in hushed tones, as even Marat muttered in surprise, "Hitaya never mentioned all those events..."

"Very well, since we all speak frankly, let us accept this at face value," the purple deaconry finally nodded.

"The key factor is the Mountain Heart Jewelry!" the orange deaconry suddenly exclaimed. "In ages past, the Empire sent Duke Redo north to establish a foothold against the orcs. He then tasked Shena Vattier to heavily mine the Pillar Mountains - only to unearth that legendary secret!"

"I know, the dwarven ancestral treasure the dragon covets dearly," Akuniryas had heard from Philip II's advisors.

"But this is no mere tale - it is fact," the orange mage leaned forward intensely. "The Magic Council has long studied the origins of civilization and this continent's mysteries. Through alchemical advances, we've found no trace of any society beyond 15,000 years ago. All excavated artifacts date after that singularity when dragons, dwarves, humans, orcs - especially that Mountain Heart Jewelry - first emerged, as if spontaneously manifesting from primordial chaos!"

"Correct." The red robe concurred. "Dwarven records are scant, but atop the Loga peaks, terrible blizzards would periodically arise - the glacial rock as hard as mythril, barely scored by sixth-tier spells. How did the dwarves survive such conditions? With powers granting that degree of endurance, their civilization should have rivaled today's Empire. Yet how did orcs defeat them?"

He pointed at Akuniryas. "So that dwarven relic you wield is the key - not just to unlocking these mysteries, but granting our people unimaginable power. Surrender it for our research, and you'll deal the dragon its greatest wound!"

"Impossible!" Marat shot up in objection. "Phoenix! Lohamet! Do not let your lust for power blind you behind false banners of human supremacy! Personal liberty and property cannot be trampled!"

"Marat, this is the Council's domain, not yours to voice opinions," the red-robed Phoenix chided coldly.

"Yet neither is this Council a dictatorship, only a body to reconcile views," the jovial green deaconry mildly countered. "At present, barring you two, the other five would never arbitrarily seize another's belongings."

The red and orange robes glowered in silence.

"This dream ability echoes ancient orc worship of some deity," the yellow deaconry mused. "Their texts tell of warriors' souls entering the god's realm while sleeping to forge greater might - though none describe it as vividly as your account, which we presumed hallucinatory effects from archaic drugs."

Akuniryas' experiences were too outlandish for even the masters of magic to decipher fully.

"There are no records of that goddess either," the yellow deaconry summoned tomes from a spatial ring, but found no relevant references after poring through them.

"Dwarven histories show no divine worship - only bestial monster gods, nothing humanoid. That a beast goddess manifested within their most sacred relic is puzzling."

"Your experience within that illusory realm is also perplexing. You claim the Mountain Heart Jewelry was responsible, yet no mineral induces such potent hallucinations. Perhaps venturing into the Loga Mountain depths, beholding that primal quintessence, could provide answers."

"As for that enigmatic dream city, our tomes hold no clues whatsoever."

...

The Council session ended, and Akuniryas emerged looking grim and despondent.

He had hoped for some enlightenment, but instead only learned that this mystery had unfathomable depths.

"Don't lose hope," Marat came out and reassuringly patted his back. "People often become fixated on seeking guidance from experts, hoping for false reassurance from mere snippets, when truly understanding such enigmas requires firsthand experience and personal exploration."

"When I first joined the expeditionary forces, the veterans would lecture endlessly with supposed wisdom - much of which proved useless until I ventured out myself. Only through trying can you truly grasp it."

Akuniryas mustered a wry smile. "I suppose...but what of captain Hitaya?"

Marat shook his head. "She departed swiftly after recovering. The yellow deaconry wished to detain her to discuss matters concerning the Ceilonian tribe."

"Ceilonians?"

"An ancient seafaring clan, according to legend - hence their distinctive blue hair and eyes. Driven away by mainstream civilizations in antiquity, they've since vanished, though some may linger in the Strife Plains."

"I see. And master Surah's condition?"

Marat's expression darkened. "The chairman was right - he perished the instant the Void tainted him. What remains is merely an unknown creature occupying his corporeal shell."

Akuniryas was stunned, recalling Marat's previous outrage over Surah's state.

"Consider Surah gone. I've made my peace with it," Marat curtly changed the subject. "What are your plans now?"

"I intend to journey to the orc shrin," Akuniryas stated.

"The orcs?"

"Yes, for the deaconrys made me realize my abnormalities cannot be disentangled from one core factor - the divine. With human deities now extinct, the only remaining active worship is among the orcs. I must investigate further there."

Marat took a deep breath. "A fair point. Better than languishing in Morey's dismal state. But the path will be immensely perilous. Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. Unraveling these secrets, mastering this power, and finally completing our original quest - that is my sole driving purpose in life now." Akuniryas' determination was unwavering.

Marat clenched his fist. "Very well, I shall try to aid your journey - supply high-level spell scrolls, and steal a spirit wyrm mount."

The two continued their discussion as they departed the towering spire.

.......

From on high, Haggard coldly observed Akuniryas' departure with eagle-vision spells, flanked by the yellow and purple deaconrys.

"Chairman, per your instructions, we have successfully lured that Morey soldier towards the orc shrines and Loga Mountains," they reported.

"Excellent." Haggard nodded in satisfaction. "We can probe whether they have truly returned. With so many long-sealed secrets beginning to stir, I suspect that clan has successfully reacquired the coordinates."