Immortal Ascension Tower


o escape in the end!

Even as he burned money, the Black Dragon King didn dare slow down, even just to take a single glance back. He travelled many Planes of Existence, crossed the many worlds under the Heavenly Realm, and only stopped by the time most of his vaults had emptied, and his own Long-Huo gem had dimmed dangerously. By then, many, many, many years had passed.

The dragonkin met the Brightfolk and settled in their land, a lower world far removed from the happenings of the higher planes. They prospered for many years, and it looked as if that peace would last forever.

One day, the dragon distanced himself from the land of the Brightfolk and his flying fortress, for barely a few days. He was looking for a way to utterly seal off the place from any prying eyes.

His timing couldn have been more terrible, leaving for just one day, or perhaps just a few hours too long.

The pursuers had erroneously trusted in the Greed and Arrogance of Dragons. They had believed until the last minute that at the end of their arduous journey, they would find a treasury still filled to the brim with treasures. Never for a moment had they considered that the King would only have stopped when all his haul had been burnt up as fuel.

Misunderstanding the meaning of a Dragons Pride, they followed in his tracks, and were dumbfounded to find the truth. They could only leave empty-handed, incensed when they came face to face with the unthinkable reality. By then however, the damage had been done…

The King would come back at dawn.

Hed find lands upturned, still ablaze. Mountains had crumbled, lakes had dried. Prairies were seas of fire, valleys and canyons had been filled.

Beyond the horizon, where a black smoke cloaked the rising of the suns, his flying castle had crashed down. What little remained of it was in ruin, a wreckage of broken structures and piled corpses.

A warning discouraging him from ever showing his face to the world again had also been painted on the ruined garrisons with the blood of his kin.

Scales had been scattered to the winds, shattered horns ground to dust and trampled upon. The pride of a Dragon, the Long-Huo gems, gone. Stolen, lost, and likely to be desecrated. And even viler…

The Brightfolk, even in death, shined brightly in that sea of corpses. They smiled, even as they had come to finally know pain. Their last look to their loved ones remained a warm smile. Their small arms, they tightly held those that, in those few years, had become dearest to them, in a tight embrace, even when they couldn reach all the way around.


This sight was what broke Him.

A dragons possessions were the most precious, only below the love for their kin. Normally, robbing just a single coin would have been enough provocation to last many generations. All He had owned, the haul He had gathered and showcased with Pride, had been burnt as fuel in his escape.

And yet, He had given up any thought of vengeance.

Of his many dear ones, many had fallen in his desperate escape. A dragons kin were untouchable deities in the eyes of all dragonkin. A drop of blood spilt could, and had, started wars on the spot.

Still, the hearts of those who had survived had been mended by those strange beings that had such tiny bodies and yet had the largest, most loving smiles.

He had been willing to live here. To dream, to forgive. At peace, for as long as He and his kin drew breath.

The people of this land and their frail bodies had housed a warmth more resilient than any Dragonflame, wearing down even a dragons Pride.

But now, not even an ember remained. Even the cradle had been upturned.

The rage that seethed in his chest at the sight of those precious beings piling up into mountains of cold corpses broke him: it took away everything good in his Dragon Heart and buried it where it should never see the light of day again. Pride characteristic of a species, for the good and the bad, was lost that day.

Only a frenzied, mad King of an empty Kingdom in the clouds was left.

The wandering cataclysm that rose into the sky that day had a Long-Huo Gem long dimmed and consumed. All It had were a weary body covered in broken scales, as well as its chipped, scarred, dulled talons.

Uncaring for the danger that would befall It in its journey, the Broken followed the trails of blood into the boundary between Planes, across worlds.

The feral beast set off on its journey of self-destruction.

And before that road reached its end, all who were unfortunate enough to come across It would have to face its Vengeful Talons.

End of the SECOND ACT

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