Power of Runes

Kristos, the Elder Dragon which was guarding the Throne Room, stirred. His eyes went wide open as he looked at the throne in front of him.

The Golden Throne, which had remained silent and unresponsive for thousands of years, was glowing faintly.

"How can that be…?" Kristos muttered to himself in a daze.

Without wasting even a second, he polymorphed into his human form—taking the shape of a middle-aged man with flowing silver hair and sharp silver eyes that carried the wisdom of centuries.

He immediately rushed toward the throne, even though he was being held back by the powerful space-restriction enchantments that surrounded the room.

But still, forcing his way through with effort, he reached the throne, turned it around, and quickly began descending the stairs hidden behind it.

He opened the massive, ancient gate and stepped into the tomb below. A slight wave of relief passed through his heart as his eyes fell upon the skeletal remains of the Dragons that were still resting in their proper places.

Could there be a problem with the ancient spell? he thought, suspicion flickering through his mind.

But no… that shouldn't be possible. These spells have been untouched for ages.

Unless… someone managed to sneak in without alerting anything?

But that… that's even more impossible.

As these doubts filled his mind, he continued forward until he arrived before the massive skeleton of the ancient dragon, resting at the center of the tomb.

It's still here, he thought, observing the golden bones carefully.

Seeing them untouched, Kristos let out a long, silent sigh of relief.

The throne's glow wasn't random. According to the ancestral memories passed down through their bloodline, that glow was the mark—it appeared only when the throne recognized someone worthy enough to be the King.

The True Dragon King, destined to unite the fragments of their scattered race.

There had never been a fixed time for that event to occur. It was only known that one day, when the stars aligned and fate decided, the King would appear.

And so, as a tradition that had been followed for countless generations, every time a new dragon was born and reached adulthood —around the age of five hundred in dragon terms—they would be brought to this place, to touch the throne and see if they were worthy.

(Basically one dragon will have two chances to be the king)

That was the ancient rite, passed down generation after generation.

Kristos, known across the Dragon Continent as the "Ender of Calamity," had been given the honorable duty to protect this throne and carry out the ritual whenever it was time.

But even after all these long years… not once had the throne ever responded to anyone.

Not until now.

With careful, tense steps, Kristos moved deeper into the tomb. But then, something truly shocking caught his eyes.

The Dragon Blood Pool.

It was supposed to be filled with the most concentrated and sacred Draconic Essence—gathered from the final moments of dying True Dragons.

It was more than rare—it was irreplaceable, meant to be the ultimate blessing for the one chosen by the throne.

And now… it was gone.

Completely dried up.

Kristos stood frozen. It felt like the world beneath him had vanished into thin air, like someone had pulled the ground out from under his feet. His thoughts scattered, and his mind went completely blank.

"H-How…?"

He stared at the dried-up pool in disbelief, his gaze slowly turning heavier as he looked deeper, trying to make sense of what had happened.

The Ancient Blood Crystal is missing.

As the one entrusted with protecting the throne and overseeing the sacred ritual, Kristos knew the meaning behind every single piece of this ancient place.

According to the ancient rules passed down through their bloodline, the crystallized blood, and the golden skeleton—each of them held the power to recognize and resonate with the destined King.

Touching any of the two was the same as placing one's hand on the throne.

Whoever did this… are they a thief? But... can I even call a dragon acknowledged by the throne a thief?

Confusion rippled through his thoughts, spreading like cracks across glass. He couldn't find a clear answer.

His instincts painted a scenario in his mind—an image of a young dragon, one born with overwhelming talent, and so sensitive to the call of true Draconic Essence that they pierced through even the impossible space-restricting enchantments, silently entered the tomb, consumed the essence, and vanished without leaving a trace—leaving behind nothing but an empty pool and a glowing throne.

And yet, it made sense.

Because he believed that the future king must be strong enough to bypass the space restrictions.

And, According to all that Kristos had learned, only those with a dragon's bloodline could be acknowledged by the throne. The throne would never glow for anyone else.

There simply shouldn't exist any human—or anything non-dragon—that carried a dragon bloodline to trigger its ancient magic.

And if, by some miracle, such a being did appear, the dragons would never allow them to live long enough to stand before the throne.

Still… no matter what or who it was, this can only mean one thing.

He is here.

Kristos placed a hand over his chest as something warm stirred inside—a feeling he hadn't allowed himself to believe in for centuries.

The one destined to be our King has finally appeared. The throne that remained empty for so long… will soon welcome its rightful ruler.

With a heart that was both anxious and full of hope, Kristos turned away from the empty pool.

His steps were slow, but each one carried a firm sense of purpose as he walked toward the exit, fully aware that everything was about to change.

First… I need to find out who that young dragon is.

***

While the gears of fate turned quietly in one corner of the continent, Ash—blissfully unaware of the storm his actions had triggered—was silently looking forward, his eyes scanning every corner of his surroundings.

Why are they just sitting there? And why the is the door even closed when there are guards posted right in front of it...?

The other two regions had the door open.

A sliver of annoyance ran through his thoughts as he observed the two figures in front of him.

One was a girl with shimmering blue hair, and the other was a boy with hair as red as fire.

Both of them were seated casually, right in front of the gate, laughing and enjoying a card game without a single trace of concern or urgency.

Ash immediately recognized that they weren't lesser dragons.

They're True Dragons... Only True Dragons can take full human form. Lesser dragons, no matter how strong, can't polymorph like this—they always retain at least some draconic traits in their humanoid forms.

He narrowed his eyes and continued to observe the duo.

Are they really playing cards here...?

He was both amused and confused, but didn't let himself get distracted.

Ash had managed to infiltrate the castle easily thanks to his Absolute Concealment, and once he was inside, it had become a matter of using his fast reflexes and teleportation at just the right moments.

He had made it this far with barely a ripple in the air behind him.

There were guards in multiple areas throughout the castle, but out of all the locations he'd passed, only three zones had Young True Dragons watching over them.

He had already explored the other two.

One of them had led him to an enormous chamber where countless dragons were sleeping in hibernation. That area, while grand, was nothing more than a resting ground. The second one...

That one just held old ceremonial relics, things the dragons probably revered or used in rituals. Nothing useful or worth taking.

And now, he was here—standing before the third and final sealed area.

If this place doesn't turn out to be the treasury, then either the real one is hidden behind some space-folding magic, or it's locked away in a pocket dimension. Still, I have to check. I can't afford to leave this place without knowing for sure.

He was confident that this was the right location.

The presence of two True Dragons standing guard, especially when none of the other rooms were locked like this, made it almost certain.

This has to be it. No one would waste two full-blooded True Dragons just to guard an empty room.

Ash's thoughts remained calm and focused. He didn't move just yet. First, he had to observe and think about the best way to proceed.

He had already come this far undetected, and now, only one final door stood between him and whatever treasure the dragons had hidden for generations.

Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed faintly through the corridor, and a lesser dragon came sprinting toward the two True Dragons who were still immersed in their card game. His breaths were heavy, wings tucked tight against his back, as if even a moment's delay would earn him punishment.

"Young Master. Young Miss," he called out respectfully, his voice steady despite the rush.

Stopping right before them, the lesser dragon bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle, his forehead nearly touching the cold stone floor.

"The Elder has issued a summon to all the young masters and mistresses," he announced, his tone urgent but reverent. "He says it is of great importance."

***