Immortality

Meanwhile, Arion remained lifeless,  being victim of Thorian's  assault. Yet, a glimmer of hope persisted—Arion's soul clung to the living realm. His loyal dragon bore the burden of salvation, returning him to the very mountain he controlled.

"I tortured him to death... but I'm not convinced he's entirely lifeless," Thorian confided in his son Merrick.

The revelation of Arion's true identity left Merrick stunned, doubting his ability to confront such power, especially with the might of the mountain gods behind it.

"No wonder he could break Caelum's strong barrier that day at demon realm," he whispered to himself.

Thorian's tone grew urgent. "His soul lingers in the realm of the living, saved from the clutches of death by his dragon. Retrieve him for me. A soul cannot linger in a dead body of a man that knows almost my secret."

Merrick responded with fiery determination. "I promise you, father. Whether he's alive or dead, it makes no difference."

Thorian then bestowed upon his son a remarkable gift—a silvery sword adorned with blazing runes. Merrick's gratitude was palpable. "I won't fail you, not with this fiery sword."

Later on, Merrick led an elite force—two dozen swordsmen and archers—towards the mountains, the lone range in Golangane.

The mountains' lofty perch in the north made the magical plane the highest among all realms—the demon, mortal, and the floral realms.

In the dim recesses of the northern mountain cave, Arion's eyes fluttered open. He awoke to the realization that he was alive, albeit within the very cave he controlled.

He was on a rocky bed covered with fumes. The fume was meant to generate energy to Arion.

"Wake, dear master," the dragon's voice echoed in Arion's mind, its corporeal form fading steadily.

Arion's heart quickened at the sight. He tried to rise, but pain surged from his chest, the place where his magical stone had been torn away, the bleeding unabated. His ascent was a grueling effort, his breaths labored.

The dragon's fading continued with the dawn. Each part of its body transformed into tiny lights, dissolving into the ether.

Arion, bewildered, implored, "Why are you vanishing?"

Tears lined up his eyes. His palms were fixated to the rocky bed as he looked sorrowfully at the dragon's fading form.

"In moments, I'll be gone, exiting this world," the dragon's voice resonated. "My purpose was to guide you as the mountain god."

A tear welled in Arion's eye as he gazed at the dwindling form. "Are you abandoning me? Don't tell me you are dying because of my impotence!"

"Survival sometimes demands solitude, for the day when a confidant is no more. I apologize, young warlock, for failing to save you when you summoned me," the dragon conveyed.

Arion was awash with tears, grappling with the prospect of losing his power and a formidable weapon to fend off his adversaries.

The dragon's final thought echoed in his mind, "Do not bear guilt for my departure; I failed you when you needed me most, passing my gift of immortality to you is my meager recompense."

Arion forced a wry smile. "Do not blame yourself; it's the heavens' whim. A mountain god losing power is a celestial enigma, you know?"

The return of his immortality failed to amuse him; what use was eternity if it meant endless pain and suffering?

"The only weapon to vanquish a sword is something mightier, just as the only weapon to slay a dragon is something stronger still—a dragon-forged sword. The sole weapon that can end your life now  is such a blade as you have carried my will. Reclaim it at any cost."

Arion queried if this was their final farewell, to which the dragon replied, "It may be, or perhaps not. None can foretell their end."

The poignant moments persisted as the dragon's form faded completely. Its departure resounded with a deafening crescendo, causing the entire mountain to shudder, and a powerful gust swept through Merrick and the Gnostic soldiers who had converged on the mountain.

Merrick knew the gust emanated from the distant cave he was seeing and swiftly ordered his troops to investigate.

"To the cave!"

The soldiers acknowledged, "Yes, young master!"

As Arion emerged from the cave, tears welled in his eyes, pain etched across his face from his still-bleeding chest wound.

Just then, he spotted the approaching soldiers.

Perched high above, he pondered his escape, the precipice below his only option.

The soldiers closed in, archers readying their bows, swordsmen poised for action. Their dark attire revealed that this was no ordinary encounter; someone sought to silence him permanently, maybe the one that tried to kill him yesterday.

Arion wondered who was really  behind this, realizing he might be forced to leap down the perilous path he had wished to avoid. Regardless, he knew he wouldn't meet his end, for he still possessed the dragon's gift of immortality, a trump card hidden beneath his agony.

In another corner of the realm, at the Gnostic sect, Thorian, ever scheming, entertained a visitor. A guard informed him of a man from Heka seeking an audience, who was Elion.

"Hey, friend, have you reconsidered my request?" Thorian inquired, his gaze fixed on Elion.

Elion hesitated before agreeing. "I accept your offer, provided you honor your pledge to make me the next Heka leader."

Thorian sighed knowingly. "Your condition hinges on your performance in the mission I'll assign. In essence, you will determine your rise to sect leader."

Elion pressed further. "I have one more request. I desire the leader's daughter as my wife—as a reward for my unwavering service over the decades. Chen Liora is my heart's desire."

Thorian grinned ominously. "I will eliminate any obstacle to your claim, ensuring you attain your desired reward."

His smile concealed darker intentions. In real cases, he would have his own designs for Elion.

Suddenly, Jay Merrick materialized before Arion, but in a mask.

"God damn it!" Arion gasped, moments before Merrick commanded his archers to unleash a volley of arrows upon him. Arion's pain intensified as the arrows found their mark.

His heart momentarily faltered, and he glimpsed the unknown masked man drawing a sword that bore a striking resemblance to the dragon-forged weapon he had lost to a malevolent force, the Silver King.

"This is your last moment in this world, mountain god," Merrick said as he rose the silvery sword high in the air.

In that critical instant, the dragon's words echoed softly in Arion's mind, urging him to plummet from the cliff, to elude the deadly blade.

Uncertain if this was the dragon-forged sword or not, Arion yielded to instinct, plunging horizontally from the cliff's edge.

He jumped off the cliff intentionally, to avoid being stabbed with that sword. He doubted if it wasn't the dragon-forged sword.

Unbeknownst to him, it was just another sword that bore great resemblance.

Arrows pierced his chest once more, but he harbored no fear of death.

"Even without my power, I possess the dragon's immortality," he reminded himself as his body crashed to the ground, concealed by towering trees, ensuring his assailants would struggle to locate him.

"Arion!" cried Master Chen, sighting Arion's bloody body from ahead.