Power of Runes

What a stubborn child…

Kristos's thoughts stayed in the air like a quiet whisper as he walked ahead with the others. His eyes paused for a moment on the room they had left behind. That place still felt heavy.

The silence wasn't normal—it felt cold and full of something they didn't understand.

He had lived for hundreds of years, seen empires rise and fall, watched heroes become legends and dragons fade into myths. But in all that long life, he had never seen someone like that boy.

A human child… yet he didn't cry. He didn't scream. He didn't even speak his name.

And those eyes… they weren't just empty. They were full of something deeper. A quiet fire, burning low but steady.

They held pain, anger, and a kind of sadness that made even an ancient dragon like Kristos feel uneasy.

What kind of life did he live to have eyes like that…?

Kristos didn't know if what they had done was truly right. He told himself it was needed—that they had to do it to learn the truth.

But something in his chest didn't agree. It felt wrong, like a weight pressing down on his heart. A feeling that wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

Behind him, Red Dragon Taylor walked in silence, but his thoughts were boiling with anger.

That damn human brat didn't even make a sound.

He had used force, pain, and fear. He had done everything that would make anyone beg or cry. But the boy… didn't even flinch.

He just stared with that cold, empty look, like Taylor's power didn't matter at all.

But what made Taylor truly furious… was what the boy said.

"I am a Dragon Slayer."

That name wasn't just a title. For Taylor, it was a nightmare come back to life. His mate, the one he had loved more than anything, had been killed by a Dragon Slayer.

Her last scream, her broken wings, the way her warmth faded—all of it lived in his memory like a curse.

Now another human dared to speak that name. A child, no less. And he had the nerve to look Taylor in the eye and not break.

It felt worse than pain. Worse than shame. It was like fate had spat in his face.

Next time, I will not hold back. I do not care how young he is. I will forget he is a child. I will forget mercy, forget limits. I will become the monster the world fears. I will make him beg, and I will not stop until every trace of that pride is crushed beneath my claws. Even if it means losing myself.

A little farther back, Areil walked with calm steps, but his mind was full of questions.

There's something strange about that boy.

He didn't know what it was, but he could feel it—something lingering around Ash like invisible threads. Threads that tugged at the world itself, pulling reality closer to him.

Something hard to see, but easy to feel. It was like fate itself was wrapped around him.

He is deeply connected to fate. I can feel it weaving around him, binding things that should not be bound.

Dragons didn't have the power to see fate like the Solareth and the Whisperer, but when someone lived as long as they did, their instincts became sharp. They could feel when something wasn't normal.

And there was more. Ariel remembered how he felt when he stood close to Ash.

Even when I was near him, I could feel myself getting more and more agitated. It was not natural. My emotions were twisted, amplified. It was as if something around him was manipulating my emotions, stirring the worst in me.

Ariel frowned, the memory still vivid in his chest. His hands had trembled with fury that wasn't his own.

It was like something around Ash was pulling at him, changing his emotions, making him feel things he normally wouldn't.

That scared him more than he wanted to admit.

Is it fate? Or something darker?

Ariel did not have the answer yet. But he knew he would bring it up when the Elders gathered again. This could no longer be ignored.

His gaze turned toward Kristos for a moment, and a thought came to him.

He must have come here to check if the boy had even a little sign of being the Chosen one. If Kristos had found anything, maybe he would've stopped the others. Maybe he still will.

But that won't be enough.

Because even if the boy truly is chosen, even if he has dragon blood in his body, the other dragons won't care.

They won't let him live.

It was a harsh truth, but Ariel understood it clearly. Dragons had too much pride. It was part of who they were.

It was in their blood, their bones, their fire. They had never bowed to any race, not even to the gods. The idea of kneeling to a human, even one chosen by fate, was something most dragons would never accept.

Would I be willing to kneel before a human king, even if fate chose him? Even if he is the true heir to the throne?

The thought sat heavy in his chest.

He could already see what was coming. If Ash really was chosen by the throne, it would not bring peace.

It would tear them apart. Some would support him. Others would rise against him. The sky would bleed, and many would fall.

And from that chaos, a new war would begin.

Not a war between humans and dragons.

But a war between dragons themselves.

***

About five minutes later, the chamber of torment finally fell silent. The dragons had all left, their footsteps fading like distant echoes in the stone walls.

Ash slowly opened his eyes, a dull ache still pulsing in every corner of his body.

It's time to begin… five minutes should have passed by now.

He stopped resisting the pain. His body, no longer locked in tension, began to respond. Slowly but surely, his wounds started healing on their own, as if something inside had been waiting for this very moment.

His heartbeat, once faint and scattered, now pounded steadily like a war drum. A soft, White mysterious symbol on his heart suddenly began to glow, casting a blinding light inward, hidden beneath skin and blood.

Warmth spread through his body like a gentle tide. The pain didn't vanish completely, but it lessened.

The heaviness in his limbs lightened, and the fog in his mind thinned just enough for him to breathe more freely.

I am still feeling sleepy… but not as bad as before.

He was still tied down, but the threat of losing consciousness had passed for now. What he didn't realize was that the mark glowing on his chest had responded to his suffering.

It had acted on its own, giving him a bit of relief—just enough to keep him awake, just enough to let him fight back.

Ash took a slow, quiet breath, his eyes still half-lidded with exhaustion.

Let's break everything.....

He closed his eyes once more and focused, gathering what little will he had. His attention turned inward, toward the space between his eyebrows—his glabella—where the pathway to his soul was present.

Just a day ago, he had received a system message. One that now echoed clearly in his mind.

**

[ Your Weapon Eclipse has evolved after resonating with the Runes in your Soul. ]

[ Warning: Unsheathing the weapon for the first time may cause disturbance in the surroundings. ]

**

He took a deep breath and slowly reached with his will, commanding the sword to come.

From the center of his forehead, a small ripple began to pulse across his skin like a drop falling into still water. And from that ripple, something emerged. Small at first, like a piece of jewelry, a sword no larger than an earring began to slide out.

But this was not the same Eclipse he had known.

The sheath, once pure white, was now pitch black, but near the top, soft rainbow colors shimmered like oil on water.

The hilt was wrapped in mysterious, colorful symbols that pulsed faintly, as if alive, each one shifting and glowing with soft energy. A fine, rainbow-hued string dangled from the pommel, glinting like a celestial thread tied to fate itself.

Once the miniature blade was fully drawn, it floated in front of Ash, and slowly began to expand, taking the full form of a Jian—a sword both elegant and ancient.

It floated silently in front of him, hovering like a loyal guardian awaiting command.

Ash could feel it resonate with his soul. He didn't need to move or lift a finger. He could simply will it to act. This weapon was more than steel. It was a companion. A part of him.

Even without checking its attributes, the aura it radiated told him everything he needed to know.

It pulsed with a mythical, terrifying power—so much so that it reminded him of the same overwhelming presence that leaked from his Primordial Core.

My mental strength is nearly gone, but… at least, I have enough to break these damn cuffs.

He hesitated for a moment, his thoughts flickering back to the system's warning.

I still don't know what kind of disturbance it might cause… I just hope it's not too much.

Ash took a shallow breath and whispered, voice hoarse but steady, "Unsheathe....and cut my bindings, Eclipse."

The moment the words left his lips, the blade reacted.

The air around it trembled as a deep, low hum began to rise. It wasn't just a sound. It was a vibration in the very air, like a living war cry.

"Hummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…"

The sound grew, resonating deeper and deeper, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.

Ash's eyes stayed locked on the sword. The bindings around his arms and legs began to tremble.

The silence was gone.

And Eclipse… had awakened.

***