Chris’s consciousness faded into a haze. He collapsed, unconscious, unsure of how long he’d been out. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, revealing the anxious face of Stripes hovering nearby.
Chris smiled weakly. “Stripes, thank you.”
If not for Stripes, Chris would surely have perished. Seeing Chris awake and unharmed, Stripes let out an excited roar, his relief palpable. Chris chuckled softly and struggled to his feet. Though he had narrowly escaped death, his body was frail, drained of strength. Yet, with his extraordinary ability to recover, Chris estimated he’d be back to full health within a few days.
Turning to survey his surroundings, Chris noticed the ruins of a sprawling complex below. Fort Dragon stretched out before him, most of its buildings in various states of decay. Yet even in ruins, the remnants exuded a sense of majesty and grandeur. His gaze lifted to an enormous palace towering ahead.
According to The Aethelgard Chronicle, an ancient city named Fort Dragon once stood in this region. At its heart was Dragon Hall, a colossal palace and the tallest structure within the fort. Though age had claimed many of its buildings, the sheer scale and magnificence of Dragon Hall still hinted at its former glory. It dwarfed even the grand palace of Amerosia.
Within Dragon Hall were numerous smaller palaces, most now ravaged by time. Still, glimpses of their splendor remained, offering faint echoes of an era when Fort Dragon served as a sacred ground for Aetherbinding practitioners. Legend held that the rulers of Aethelgard once resided within the hallowed halls of Dragon Hall.
Chris muttered to himself, “After all these centuries, I wonder if anything of value has survived. Even the greatest treasures may have succumbed to time’s relentless erosion.”
Wandering through the ruins, disappointment weighed on Chris as he encountered little more than rubble. Then, at the very heart of Dragon Hall, he stumbled upon a golden palace. It gleamed brilliantly, its entire structure forged from gold. This was unmistakably the central hall.
He murmured in awe, “I can’t believe it. After all these years, this palace remains intact.”
Having come so far, there was no way Chris would leave without exploring further. As he approached, the grand doors of the golden palace creaked open on their own. Startled, Chris froze for a moment before stepping cautiously inside. The moment he entered, he felt an eerie sensation, as if unseen eyes were watching his every move.
Surveying the vast hall, Chris noticed two towering figures stationed on either side. These were not living beings but massive constructs-golems. In Aethelgard, there existed a unique profession: puppet masters, craftsmen who specialized in creating these mechanical giants. Some golems were said to possess immense power, rivaling even those at the Elysium level of mastery.
Chris approached one of the golems for a closer look. Its craftsmanship was exquisite, every detail meticulously designed-a clear sign of its formidable potential. Yet, it was lifeless, having lost its energy over the ages. Examining it further, Chris spotted a groove in its torso, a slot meant to hold an Essence Stone. These magical stones were the key to powering such constructs, and the stronger the golem, the higher the quality of stone required.
Chris retrieved a low-grade Essence Stone and inserted it into the slot. The golem remained motionless. He removed the stone, startled to find it completely drained of energy, reduced to nothing more than a dull, ordinary rock.
“It’s not enough,” Chris thought. “If one stone isn’t sufficient, I’ll just have to try more.”
Determined, Chris began placing stone after stone into the golem. One. Two. Ten. Twenty. The number climbed until he had used a hundred Essence Stones. Finally, the golem stirred.
Chris shouted, “Stand up!”
With a thunderous roar, the golem rose to its feet. Excited by the result, Chris turned to Stripes. “Stripes, test its strength!”
Stripes launched himself at the golem, his razor-sharp claws slashing across its surface. Yet the golem remained unscathed, its exterior showing no damage.
“Stripes, keep attacking!” Chris urged.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Blow after blow landed, but the golem stood unyielding. Eventually, Stripes collapsed in exhaustion, sprawled on the ground like a defeated beast.
Chris stared in amazement. “This golem’s strength is at least mid-Solstice level! With this, I can dominate anything in my path!”
Stripes, whose power was at the Solstice’s early stage, had been utterly powerless against it. If Chris could use this golem in battle, it would be an unstoppable force.
Having tested its defense, Chris now wanted to gauge its offensive capabilities. “Attack!” he commanded.
The golem obeyed, swinging a massive fist into one of the stone pillars in the hall. With a deafening crash, the pillar shattered, collapsing into rubble.
“Ha-ha-ha!” Chris laughed, his voice echoing through the hall. “This golem is incredible! I’ve struck gold!”
But his excitement was short-lived. The golem’s movements slowed, and the light radiating from its body dimmed before it stopped entirely. Its energy had been depleted.
Chris frowned, frustrated. The golem was immensely powerful, but its consumption of Essence Stones was staggering. To fully activate it, he estimated he’d need thousands of stones. Without a steady supply, the golem was nothing more than a lifeless husk. Still, its potential filled him with satisfaction.
As Chris stood contemplating the cost of his newfound treasure, a voice boomed through the hall.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Startled, Chris’s heart leaped. He shouted, “Who’s there? Show yourself! Stop playing games!”
The voice repeated, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Chris looked up toward the source of the sound. At the far end of the hall, atop a grand dragon throne, sat a massive spectral figure clad in a dragon-emblazoned robe.
Chris’s eyes narrowed as he fixed his gaze on the apparition. There was no doubt-the voice belonged to this mysterious figure.
“Who are you?” Chris demanded, his tone sharp and wary.