I Received System to Become Dragonborn

Deep inside the forest, in the place far from any trail that usually walked by man. The trees in this place grew tighter, older, and darker. The canopy above knotted together so thickly it obstruct the light and make this are dim and eerie.

The shadows in this place were not merely the absence of light but clung to bark and soil like oil. The mist that coiled through the roots and undergrowth was thicker than the rest in the whole forest. And they not just cold but tasting faintly of rot and iron.

Even the plants looks unnatural here, curling in shapes that defied symmetry.

And hidden among these cursed trees, in the highest boughs of an ancient wide-limbed oak, stood a structure of a treehouse with one of purpose. Its shape was functional, symmetrical, almost urban in design so make it standing in sharp contrast to the wild around it.

Inside the treehouse, three figures sat cross-legged in a perfect triangle, cloaked in smooth black robes. Their heads were bald and clean-shaven, their face angular and sharp, each wearing a faint smile.

Their robes bore no sigils but showing that it made in the city. Finely tailored, not grown or stitched from forest hide. They did not belong to the wild. They were not tribesmen. They were men from the city that have certain knowledge and they had come to this place for a purpose.

For a moment, all three were silent with eyes closed.

Then, without a word spoken, all three opened their eyes at once and smiled wider.

They felt it as surely as the pulse in their own veins. The rifts had begun to open one by one in the whole forest.

And that could only mean one thing, the resurrection of the old god is getting closer.

"The Heralds have come out," one of them murmured with reverence. "The first rift has been opened."

"Three more now walk from the rift," said another. "and soon more will follow when the gate widens."

"The barrier is thinning," whispered the third. "He awakens."

All three tilted their heads back slightly, almost as if listening to something that they other can't hear. They can feel that in the trees that groaned and shifted, something was moving. Its not manifest into a being yet but the forest breathed with it.

Their god. The Forgotten forest god is here.

The god have a name that passed through their cult's generation. He is called "Thar'Zul-Vekar", the Mouth Beneath All Roots.

He is a god that not come from the skies but from the deep unknown and slumbers in the cracks of the world. He also slumbers beneath forest, time, and memory. Thar'Zul-Vekar had once ruled this world when it was new and wet and full of fear and when there's still no light.

And now he would return.

The cult's purpose had never wavered for thousand of years. They had waited and now finally they acted.

"Let the adventurers fight so that they can bleed and fall," one said softly, touching a carved bone talisman at his neck. "Their deaths will feed the path."

"The forest is ready," said another. "And the eyes of the god are now able to watch us."

"Yes. From now on the Heralds will multiply and when the time is right..." He paused, grinning. "...he will walk the forest again."

They all bowed their heads in silent prayer. The forest outside them shifted again. A deep and distant growl could be heard echoing through the mist.

---

The group of Eccar and company moved cautiously beneath the towering canopy, their boots crunching softly against the damp earth. The mist had thickened as they walked deeper. Its swirling cold and heavy around their legs.

The forest no longer felt like a place but it felt like something watching them.

Eccar walked at the front, calm and unhurried. His broad shoulders were relaxed. The heavy mist coiled around him like it not dare to cling too tightly. His presence spoke volumes in the group.

In this place where the air felt like it could strangle them and every shadow become darker it was Eccar's confidence that anchored the group. He still smiled.

Behind him, the eight adventurers followed in a tight group. Their eyes sharp looking around the forest around them.

Their weapons were close at hand and never get back inside their sheath. The weight of Eccar's earlier warning — that the entire forest would awaken — make them more anxious.

It wasn't just an ominous phrase, they could feel it now. The trees felt more alive than they should. The roots felt like they shifted under their foot. The wind whispered something sometime.

Annette's voice broke the silence, soft but trembling.

"I have a bad feeling…" she said, her fingers clutching the amulet that hung from her neck.

As a priest, she had been trained to sense when something unseen was approaching, and now that sense screamed at her. Her lips moved in silent prayer, her gaze flickering upward through the fog-draped trees.

She wasn't alone. Each of them who were hardened adventureres feel the same weight in their chest.

That tightness in the air that didn't come from fear of monsters but from the instinctual knowledge that something unnatural was starting to happen. This is not the same forest they used to venture before.

Even for them who have reputation as the strongest adventurers party in their kingdom, all of this felt like a different threat.

And yet, they pressed on. Because they had no other choice but to continue after coming this far. And because Eccar — the strongest among them — still walked forward with calm eyes and a steady step.

The mist parted for him. The forest watched him. And the deeper they went, the more they knew that they were entering the heart of this problem.

Eccar's instinct flared so he raised his fist, gesturing for them to stop. He then activated his Dragon Eyes and saw through the dense mist.

"A rift is open few meters ahead," Eccar said.

The eight adventurers froze.

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