Destroyer of Ice and Fire

A forest of bright flames drifted unceasingly from the mountains. Pillars of smoke soared into the sky. Tremendous rumbles shook through the lands.

The thick smoke covered nearly half the sky. The formerly glorious cities inside the mountains were now a sight of desolation. The only thing left intact was a castle floating atop a mountain peak. A spotlessly white circular plaza and a tower sat on the highest reaches of the castle, radiating gorgeous splendor. Thousands of gigantic trees grew on both sides of a wide spiraling path that endlessly twined upward around the castle. Branches thick as water buckets undulated on the trees; countless heavy white fruit dropped from the sky, tightly packed together as they pounded towards the crowd of men engaged in fierce battle.

There were dozens of dragons floating in a sky pervaded by the thick smoke. Sometimes they flew to and fro, spewing their mighty dragon breaths. At other times, they would swoop down and crush the cities on the ground into smithereens with their enormous bodies.

Countless black dots leaped and zipped about inside the burning cities, countless human warriors, beastmen, giants, barbarians, and elves doing battle. Their figures soared up from the broken cities one after another like endless waves, throwing themselves onto the dragons sailing through the air like giant ships.

These figures were minuscule compared to the gargantuan dragons, but the seemingly even tinier flames that radiated from their figures actually managed to break through the dragon breaths and even split open gigantic wounds on their bodies, tearing from them tremendous cries of lament. Dragon blood of every color and luster splashed down like waterfalls, painting the ground.

A strange gray cloud rose from the mountains in the distance, along with a sudden shake of the earth. A dragon the color of iron ashes emerged from the clouds, a malicious halo of deep purple light radiating from its body, seeming to illuminate all the ruined cities. The powerful masters who'd already inflicted heavy wounds on the dragons or even slain them rushed toward this ashen dragon, brimming with resolution. However, the burning lights of their bodies merely shook circular ripples on its body, unable to disturb the dragon's movements in the least.

"I have already waited ten thousand years for this moment. We are the true rulers of Doraster!"

A young man fell on his rear on the white plaza on top of the floating castle. Long silver hair, pointed ears, an ornate metallic war armor etched with silver openwork that shone on his pure elven body. He was one of the fearless braves who'd charged into the sky, but now his heart was filled with despair when he witnessed the evil king of the dragons in the sky, heralding the end of days.

"Ned finally came out…" On top of the tower behind the elf, the figure of a young man flickered amidst the lights of fluttering flames. He spoke his words in a soft voice, his head lowered to the lower layers of the tower, before leaping forward to the skies above.

A storm formed around his body. Dazzling bolts of lightning and particles the color of blood spawned inside the tempest, shaped into of a resplendent long sword.

A silver cloud appeared in the sky just below him at this time, foreboding the emergence of yet another dragon.

A silver dragon lifted up the man, the lightning sword in his hand. It then streamed into a long silver beam, soared into the sky, charged through the dense malevolent purple halo, and fiercely clashed together with the evil ashen dragon.

The resplendent lightning longsword pricked the evil dragon's back, as if it were an embroidery needle. It actually vanished from sight on the spot, breaking through all the evil dragon's defenses, penetrating deep inside its body, stabbing into its heart.

Fresh blood sprayed out from both dragons as they clashed together in the sky, collapsed backward like two mountain peaks, and fell.

"Who are you!"

"The power of our bloodline flows inside your veins, but you actually betrayed us, caused a sword to pierce my heart at such a moment!"

The ashen dragon roared a furious yet mournful roar, releasing many black particles that twisted around the hero who'd stabbed his heart. They fell together down into a fiery abyss brimming with the aura of primordial chaos. Part of the black particles turned into streams the luster of crystal, rushing into the bodies of some of its subordinates.

Under the white tower, the young elf stared at the fallen evil dragon, his mind completely blank.

"The evil dragon Ned is dead!"

Countless cheers arose at this moment.

Such was the ending scene to the War of the Dragons recorded into the annals of Doraster.

Doraster had been a peaceful land. Before King Ned of the Evil Dragons started the War of the Dragons in order to the rule entire continent, dragons, humans, elves, giants, barbarians, beastmen, each had their own territories and kingdoms. They'd even founded the trading city in the sky together- the Holy Everlasting City.

The curtains finally dropped on the War of the Dragons with Ned's death, with the greater part of the dragon clan dying out. All the ancient kingdoms on the continent had been destroyed, and only Holy Everlasting City at the very core had been preserved. Some of Ned's subordinates remained formidable as they lay in ambush, waiting for the time to strike back.

However, the countless heroes that sprung up during the war were like stars in the sky, illuminating the hearts of countless youngsters on the continent, making them pursue in the footsteps of those legends and become warriors brave enough to put their lives on the line in order to protect their loved ones, their homelands.

As to the surviving humans, elves, barbarians, giants, and beastmen…After paying with the lives of innumerable heroes, they ultimately established four nations where all kinds of bloodlines fused together: the kingdom of Eiche, the kingdom of Doa, the Winter Kingdom, and the Storm Kingdom. Peace was ultimately restored once more on the entire continent of Doraster.

With the establishment of the four nations, pure-blooded powerhouses from every bloodline gradually became scarcer and scarcer, but the merging of bloodlines also brought forth the emergence of many powerhouses, different from their predecessors.

The languages on the continent gradually merged together within the long rivers of time, eventually becoming a combination of the various draconic languages mixed together with the languages of all the other races.

The reason for such a natural evolution was because every dragonic sentence was fundamentally a magic chant that could summon the power of the elements. Young dragons used dragon language to converse since childhood as if they were continuously repeating magic chants, and this was why dragons would naturally possess a formidable power once they reached a certain age.

Nowadays, such ability was no longer the sole monopoly of the dragon clan. Every child on the continent would master the draconic language while learning to speak, just like dragons. Once they grew to a certain age, the perception of elemental power would naturally come to them. In this new era on Doraster, this stage was precisely the Awakening!

The age for Awakening usually fell between ten to sixteen. This was also the age when children longed for the future, when the most beautiful of dreams set sail!

To protect their homelands, or for the glory of their clans and kingdoms, waves upon waves of awakened youngsters joined academies and learned all kinds of skills as they set foot on the road to their dreams!