Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

"Follow me, and I'll help you rise to the top. The position of Dragon God will be yours sooner or later."

Rhodes patted the dragon's head and casually tossed it a pie. The dragon—an embodiment of icy desolation—nodded hesitantly, sincerity and apprehension mingling in its gaze.

Dragon God?

Was such a title even within its grasp?

Rhodes smiled inwardly as he observed the dragon's softened demeanor. The once-hostile beast now showed visible signs of yielding after his relentless psychological conditioning. Not bad, he thought. At this rate, the dragon's transformation—body and soul—into his perfect servant was only a matter of time.

---

"Your size is a bit much," Rhodes remarked, scrutinizing the dragon's massive frame. "Could you make yourself smaller?"

The enormous beast, bound in chains of divine origin, looked down in embarrassment. "I can, but first, you'll need to remove these chains."

"Simple."

Without hesitation, Rhodes placed a hand on the glowing chains. His magic surged, obliterating the restraints in an instant. They shattered like brittle glass, unable to withstand the sheer magnitude of his power.

Freed at last, the dragon let out a triumphant roar that echoed through the dark chamber. Though much of its time in this prison had been spent in slumber, its intermittent awakenings had left it seething with resentment. Now, for the first time in eons, it was liberated.

"Now, shrink," Rhodes commanded, his tone firm.

The exhilarated dragon froze. Its eyes flickered with hesitation before it nodded reluctantly. Moments later, its colossal body began to compress, shimmering with an icy blue aura as it transformed.

Rhodes raised an eyebrow as the transformation unfolded. He had expected a scaled-down version of the beast—perhaps more compact and manageable. Instead, what emerged left him utterly speechless.

Standing before him was not a dragon but a statuesque woman. Her icy blue armor hugged her curves, her flowing hair cascaded like frozen waterfalls, and her face—cold yet stunning—radiated an unapproachable majesty. Her long, shapely legs were nothing short of mesmerizing. She seemed like an ethereal goddess carved from frost.

Rhodes stared, utterly dumbfounded. "You're a... female dragon?"

The woman nodded silently, her expression indifferent.

He had assumed, based on her growls and roars, that she was male. Apparently, he had been wrong.

---

"Do you have a name?" Rhodes asked, once he had regained his composure.

"Atlante," she replied, her voice as cool and distant as a glacier.

Atlante. The name suited her icy demeanor.

Rhodes pondered briefly. High-intelligence creatures like dragons often had their own names. For some, particularly those of sacred or demigod-level lineage, their true names held extraordinary power—both a source of strength and a potential weakness.

Knowing a creature's true name could grant absolute authority over it, much like with demons. However, few dragons possessed the strength or lineage to naturally birth a true name. Even fewer would have one bestowed by a god, as the cost for such an act—both in magic and divine authority—was immense.

"I see," Rhodes muttered. It didn't surprise him that Atlante lacked a true name. Even if she wanted one, the path to earning it was steep. Granting a true name to a being as powerful as a demigod dragon was a burden only a god could bear—and even then, at great cost.

---

As he examined Atlante, his thoughts shifted. Baptized by his blood, her once-ordinary ice dragon lineage had been elevated. Her potential was now limitless. With enough time and strength, she might even reach the pinnacle of draconic evolution—an ancient elemental dragon, rivaling gods themselves.

But for now, Rhodes had no intention of giving her a true name. His infinite reservoir of magic could easily sustain the act, but trust had to be earned. There was no way he'd bestow such power on a newly-subdued servant.

"Stand back," Rhodes ordered, his tone curt.

Atlante obediently stepped aside. Rhodes approached the massive stone wall ahead, adorned with intricate carvings. The murals, etched in meticulous detail, depicted a grand tale.

---

Long ago, at the dawn of the Age of Gods, a demon from beyond this world descended.

This being, a Demon God of immeasurable power, wreaked havoc upon the land. Not even the gods could destroy him. His victims rose as immortal abominations, forming an endless army under his command. Known as the Night King, he unleashed an eternal war that plunged the world into despair.

The gods, desperate to halt his rampage, joined forces to seal him away. The murals told this story in vivid, haunting images.

"A demon the gods couldn't destroy..." Rhodes murmured, his lips curling into a smirk.

His eyes gleamed with intrigue. What kind of power could rival the gods themselves? He reached for the key in his hand, anticipation bubbling within him. This wasn't just about freeing a dragon or conquering a dungeon.

This was about uncovering a force that had once shaken the heavens.

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