Dragonic legacy

"It's okay to be angry, but do not let it consume you," Leon advised with a tone of wisdom that carried the weight of experience.

"I know. This won't happen again," Teress responded, her lips pursed, the embers of anger still flickering in her eyes.

Acknowledging her statement with a nod, Leon effortlessly summoned the scroll back into his palm from where it lay on the ground.

As they refocused on the scroll, the unfolding events captivated their attention. After dispelling the Wyvern's magic, the mysterious man swiftly penetrated the creature's defenses and with one precise strike, he pierced its head with his sword.

The red-cloaked man swiftly withdrew his sword from the Wyvern's head. However, before they could fully grasp the appearance of this individual with the antimagic ability, the unexpected occurred. Moments after he withdrew his sword, the supposedly defeated creature moved once more.

The Wyvern stirred and delivered a swift and lethal blow that sent the man hurtling high into the sky.

"The Wyvern didn't die," Teress remarked, her tone laced with incredulity.

"The Undead," Leon's words dripped with chilling certainty. His dagger-sharp gaze remained locked on the scroll, emanating an unspoken bloodlust. Even Teress, usually undaunted, avoided direct eye contact, continuing to scrutinize the unfolding events not daring to make any comment.

A few moments later, the recording was abruptly interrupted, only resuming after skipping through a half-hour of blank view. When the vision renewed, The Wyvern reappeared on the scroll, vigorously flapping its wings in an attempt to break free from the icy storm. However, instead of escaping, its limbs continued to freeze.

Attempting to use the Dragonic Tongue again, the Wyvern roared, but to no avail. Rather than transforming into a fiery behemoth like before, the ground beneath the creature shimmered with otherworldly intensity. A torrent of mana surged toward it, swirling like a vortex before vanishing within.

Confusion marked the Wyvern's expression, mirrored on the faces of Leon and Teress as nothing happened for a moment. But before any one of them could react, a sudden hailstorm of freezing energy erupted from the circle. The freezing energy was so intense it reached the heights above, scattering the dark veil of clouds like a silent ripple of explosion.

The spectacle of an epic proportions unfolded—an unforgiving and frigid force that sent shivers through the very sky. The colossal storm dwarfed even the giant figure of the Wyvern, as if the wrath of winter itself had unleashed upon it.

And then, as abruptly as it had come, The towering storm dissipated, its icy fury vanishing into the atmosphere like wisps of smoke. In its wake, the once-menacing form of the Wyvern remained, now a regal and unyielding sculpture of ice.

Soon, the man in the crimson cloak reappeared, walking purposefully toward the frozen form of the Wyvern. Droplets of blood seeped from the lower edge of his mask, hinting at hidden injuries. Yet his posture and demeanor suggested a different truth.

Witnessing the unleashed ice pillar, Leon and Teress simultaneously reached the same conclusion—the magic of runes.

"He wields magic runes as well," Leon declared, his tone decisive. "Even if he isn't connected to this invasion, he is far too perilous to be left unchecked. We must apprehend him," Leon stated, turning to Teress.

"I expected nothing less from one of them," Teress mumbled to herself, a chilling intensity emanating from her as she spoke.

"Finally, I will have my revenge," she declared, her voice carrying a frigid determination that even caused Leon to cast a sidelong glance her way.

While the two Thrones of the empire had already marked Orion as their enemy, far away, removed from the imperial walls, a voice resonated with curses and malevolence, echoing across the desolate landscape.

"I will kill him... I will fucking... kill... him. Does he even comprehend the rarity of a Wyvern's corpse? Bastard, that bloody bastard," seethed one of the two white-masked men Orion had observed in the tavern—the ones who were being followed by the city guards. This man, now venting his rage, had been the necromancer orchestrating the undead Wyvern.

His anger intensified, "And that final gaze, who does he think he is... believing he's victorious merely because he vanquished a mere Wyvern... I'm going to kill him, slowly and painfully. Yes, that sounds fitting... that sounds right... HAHA... HAHAHAHA..." The man's laughter echoed with a sinister resonance, foretelling the dark vendetta that awaited Orion in the shadows.

While one of those two ranted like a true maniac, the other one stood stoically at a distance, engaged in conversation through a mystical communication scroll.

The scroll flickered to life, projecting an image that revealed only malevolent red eyes, shrouded within the darkness. A commanding voice emanated, "I distinctly warned against entering into battle. Yet, you choose to defy me."

"The guards were closing in, forcing us to an untimely relocation. We had to obliterate the tavern where we were being watched. I granted the lunatic carte a free way for a while to cause a distraction. I even tampered with the dimensional gates to stall reinforcements while I completed my part of runes," explained the second figure.

"Did you eliminate all the witnesses?" inquired the voice from the scroll.

"Yes, but Perci lost his Wyvern in the skirmish," replied the white-masked individual.

"Lost? Didn't you tamper with the dimensional gate?" questioned the voice.

"It wasn't the backup that dismantled the Wyvern's essence. Another force was at play," clarified the masked man, delving into the intricate details about Orion's intervention.

"Eliminate him if he poses a threat to our plans," casually ordered the voice, its disdain apparent.

The masked man hesitated, "No," he asserted, resisting the command. The crimson eyes narrowed threateningly, prompting correction. "I mean, we shouldn't. He seemed to hold more value than a mere execution. We should capture him first to ascertain..." The masked man continued, explaining how Orion had dispelled the Wyvern's magic.

"Are you absolutely certain about his actions?" queried the voice, veiled in darkness.

"Beyond a shadow of a doubt," affirmed the masked man. "He nullified the Wyvern's magic when all seemed lost. I witnessed it firsthand."

"Only the dragon could overpower a Wyvern in dragonic magic. If he indeed turns out to be what we suspect, then Lord Agmus will be exceedingly pleased with this gift—a bearer of the dragon's legacy." The ominous conversation unfolded, revealing dark secrets surrounding Orion's mysterious abilities.

"You dare utter his name. He is one of the Four," the voice said sharply, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of his lord.

"Know your place, maggot," it threatened sharply, a chilling command echoing through unseen realms. The masked man shuddered, feeling a sudden sense of fear just from the words.

"And yes... bring him to me. Breathing or breathless," the voice declared before his image vanished from the ancient scroll. But not before revealing a wicked smirk that defied even the shrouds of darkness.

The air hung heavy with the weight of a sinister plan set into motion, an ominous trail of a new hostile force for Orion to beware of.