Chapter 313: Bloodline
Leon had no idea how long he had been drifting in this darkness...
Maybe it was just a moment, maybe it was a hundred years...
"Thump, thump, thump..."
At last, the familiar sound of his heartbeat echoed in Leon's ears again. Instinctively, he opened his eyes, only to see endless flames—a world engulfed in fire. Within the blaze, countless scenes surged and churned. Just one glance left Leon utterly shaken by the terrifying visions.
It was the war between Pureblood Elves and Five-Colored Dragons...
Thousands upon thousands of Five-Colored Dragons soared across the sky, blotting out the sun like a vast, multicolored cloud. Their breath swept over the land, turning everything to scorched earth. In the sky and on the ground, Pureblood Elves appeared everywhere—Silvermoon Elves, Nightshade Elves, Sunfire Elves, Songblade Elves. The four great Pureblood lines wielded elements, bows, spears, and holy light, fighting desperately...
The sky was tearing apart, the earth collapsing. Once again, Leon witnessed the horrifying aftermath of thirty thousand years—a world of crumbling mountains, boiling seas, and an apocalyptic landscape.
The Five-Colored Dragons fell in droves, and entire legions of Pureblood Elves were reduced to ashes...
Everywhere he looked, there were raging flames, flowing blood, and broken corpses. Leon knew deep down that this was just an illusion, but he couldn't help being shaken by the brutality of it all—the air itself seemed thick with the stench of blood...
"Who is the real enemy?" Leon desperately tried to rush into the flames, to see the true foe behind this brutal war.
But...
There was no enemy...
From start to finish, not a single enemy appeared in the vision. The losses of Pureblood Elves and Five-Colored Dragons came from void storms, burning meteors, collapsing earth, rending skies, and boiling seas. It was as if these world-ending disasters were the true enemy.
At last, everything fell silent...
The world gradually returned to calm. The surviving Five-Colored Dragons and Pureblood Elves gathered together, silently mourning their fallen companions. There was no sound, no movement, but pain and sorrow spread quietly through them. Finally, a Golden Three-Headed Dragon let out a thunderous roar, filled with fury and unwillingness. At the same time, a handsome and dignified Sunfire Elf, like a god descended to earth, stepped out from the crowd, staff in hand, and began to chant a long incantation...
Then, a Plane Path opened.
The remaining Five-Colored Dragons and Pureblood Elves silently walked toward the Plane Path. No one knew where it would lead...
"This is..." Leon was suddenly startled. The scene felt strangely familiar.
But just as Leon tried to see where the Plane Path led, the vision abruptly froze...
"Damn it!" Leon cursed aloud. The swirling visions in the flames were far too important to him—he even felt that, if he could just keep watching, all the questions that had haunted him might finally be answered.
Unfortunately, the vision froze at just that moment...
Leon could hardly accept such an outcome...
But just then, a thunderous dragon roar echoed in Leon's ears again. Startled, he looked up and saw a vast black shadow streak across the sky—a colossal Destruction Black Dragon, hundreds, maybe thousands of meters long. Its body flickered in the sunlight, ghostly and surrounded by swirling flames. Its massive wings stretched wide, making it seem as if the entire sky was ablaze...
Leon gasped sharply...
It was the king among Destruction Black Dragons, an entity on par with the Golden Three-Headed Dragon—a being powerful enough to challenge ancient gods and demons: the Shadow Dragon!
As the Shadow Dragon swept across the sky, it seemed to glance back at Leon. Another earth-shaking roar rang out, and by the time Leon regained his senses, the dragon had vanished into the distance...
Leon was left utterly stunned.
He had heard it clearly—the thunderous roar just now contained several incredibly complex phrases in Ancient Draconic...
Now, in the entire Northend World, there were few who could claim to understand Ancient Draconic. It was a language used only by the ancient dragon race during the Golden Age, and even in the later Nesser Dynasty—the empire built by dragons and elves—few dragons communicated in it.
Only those ancient dragons who had lived through both the Golden and Silver Ages—creatures whose lifespans defied imagination—would ever use Ancient Draconic, and only in the rarest of circumstances.
The reason Leon understood a bit of Ancient Draconic was because, at the peak of magical civilization, many mages believed that both Ancient Draconic and Ancient Elven contained mysterious powers. They obsessed over studying these lost languages, excavating countless temples and ruins. By their own account, they practically turned the entire Nesser era upside down, spending centuries to compile what they considered a version of Ancient Draconic.
Unfortunately, this so-called Ancient Draconic was little more than an imitation—it held no real power and was openly mocked by all dragons. They said it was nothing like the true Ancient Draconic passed down in their bloodline. Eventually, mages shelved their flawed version, using it only as reference material when studying other ancient languages.
Back then, Leon encountered this version of Ancient Draconic under such circumstances—mostly for its grammatical structure, and partly just for idle reading.
He never expected that this idle curiosity would prove useful today. In that thunderous dragon roar, Leon actually understood a few phrases of Ancient Draconic...
"Accident... witness... descendant... ancient war... fragment... Baraklara..."
Though the message was broken and incomplete, Leon memorized the key words—especially 'Baraklara.' He suspected it was a powerful true name, but to know who it belonged to, he'd have to consult some records later.
As the Shadow Dragon swept across the sky, the surrounding flames faded, and endless darkness returned once again...
When Leon regained consciousness, the scenery had changed once more. He was back in the empty Sanctuary of the Ancients, staring at the still-beating heart of the Destruction Black Dragon. The drop of his own blood was slowly seeping into the heart. In the distance, William Merlin still stood in his original spot, his expression unchanged.
Leon realized that the long ordeal he'd just experienced had probably lasted only a brief moment in reality...