Mount Aethelgar's peak speared into the eternal mist. Deep within the stone labyrinth guarding its summit, the air vibrated with concentrated power. Duncei sat cross-legged, his brow furrowed in focus. For seven relentless days, he had wrestled with the *Vitalis Manifestation Art*. Sweat beaded on his skin despite the chill, testament to his effort. Suddenly, pure white light coalesced in his palm. It shimmered, solidified, and resolved into a spectral dagger, no larger than his hand. Another flick of thought, and it transformed into a needle-sharp spike.
He hefted the ghostly blade. Its edge seemed to sing with destructive potential. A memory surfaced – the crude metal shiv he'd used years ago as a desperate street rat in Nino Township. The ghost of a wry smile touched his lips. *A phantom knife… back to old tricks, Duncei? But this one can cut through anything.*
A rare flicker of approval warmed the stern gaze of Swordmaster Skywrath, observing from the shadows. Duncei was slow of speech, true, but his *mind* wasn't slow. Grasping the essence of Vitalis Manifestation in such a short time spoke of a hidden, potent intellect. Skywrath had offered minimal guidance, urging Duncei only towards utter mastery of form and control. The raw power of the *Vitalis Way* demanded years of cultivation, not days. Luckily, Duncei's fingers and wrists possessed an almost unconscious dexterity honed from childhood. The phantom blade danced in his palm, an extension of his will.
Nearby, a low rumble vibrated through the stone. Holy Evil stirred. The juvenile dragon's brilliant, golden eyes – eyes radiating an innate sense of the sacred – pierced the gloom. He yawned cavernously, shaking off the lethargy of deep slumber. Seven days. Seven days absorbing the potent energies of five perfect elemental crystals. The transformation was startling. His once-one-meter-long body stretched to nearly five feet. Wings thickened and broadened dramatically. Most striking was the emergence of fine, slate-grey scales covering his hide. Though patchy, they shone with a hard, metallic sheen and resisted pressure impressively. Seven distinct knobs jutted from his spine, their tips pulsing with faint golden light.
Holy Evil stumbled towards the cave exit. Duncei's awareness shifted; he opened his eyes just as the dragon reached him. "Whoa, Holy Evil! You're awake!" Duncei vaulted down, embracing the dragon's thick neck, scratching the ridge between his horns. Holy Evil rumbled affectionately, rubbing against Duncei, a rough tongue attempting to bathe the young man's face in reptilian enthusiasm.
Skywrath emerged, eyes crackling with latent energy. "He grows at a staggering pace. Seven days, yet the change is profound." Holy Evil reared onto his hind legs, fixing Skywrath with a clear, intelligent golden gaze. He patted his own belly with a clawed forepaw and grumbled insistently.
Duncei chuckled. "Guess that answers the question. Hungry? Let's get your feast." He'd prepared well. Mountain cold served as nature's perfect preservative.
Skywrath watched, eyebrows rising towards his hairline, as Holy Evil devoured food meant for ten men. The dragon patted his rounded belly contentedly and began clumsily cavorting around the cavern. "Duncei, take him outside. Play. Then resume your Manifestation practice." Skywrath commanded. "Yes, Master Skywrath," Duncei bowed before guiding his dragon companion out.
The mountain top air bit sharply. Duncei channeled his *Vitalis Way*, a shield of white light defying the mist. He took a deep breath, focusing his internal energy. From his right palm, solid white *Vitalis* coalesced into a small egg-like sphere. With intense concentration, it stretched and reshaped, becoming a dagger – an uncanny replica of his Nino thieving tool. Pure white energy hummed around it. Duncei's fingers danced; the solidified force-dagger became a deadly blur, humming centimeters from his skin.
Holy Evil watched, fascinated, his own claw mimicking Duncei's intricate movements. Duncei retreated cautiously. "Stay put, Holy Evil." He moved back ten yards. His focus intensified. "Go!" The dagger leapt from his palm. Guided by Duncei's will and *Vitalis* force, it became a streak of white light. Duncei twisted, turned, lunged; the dagger wove an intricate, lethal web around him.
Left bored, Holy Evil picked up a fist-sized rock, idly tossing it. Then, a sly glint sparked in his golden eyes. With an almost comical flick of his paw, he hurled the stone at the darting Duncei.
Deep in his training trance, Duncei's senses were hyper-alert. He saw the rock hurtling into his defensive sphere. Without breaking stride, the phantom dagger flickered. Five meters out, the stone exploded into dust, vanishing on the breeze.
Holy Evil's jaw dropped. He blinked rapidly, disbelieving. Duncei, momentarily distracted by the dragon's stunned look, fumbled his control. Momentum carried the dagger harmlessly away. Panic flared – it contained a significant chunk of his power! He lunged after it. In that instant of panic, a thin, white filament of solidified energy shot from his palm. It snaked out with lightning speed, wrapping the dagger's hilt and yanking it back securely.
Landing, Duncei stared at the filament. A new discovery! This ultra-thin strand of solidified *Vitalis*, extending nearly thirty feet, cost him only a fraction of the energy the dagger did. It fused seamlessly with the dagger's base. Experimentally, Duncei sent the dagger flying again. Now tethered, it soared in deadly arcs up to thirty feet away. More control needed? Yes. But his killing range had just doubled.
Skywrath stepped silently from the cavern entrance, a rare smile touching his lips. *The boy's progress defies logic. Now, let's test his resolve…* He saw Holy Evil readying another rock. With a subtle flick of his wrist, Skywrath willed dozens of small stones to rise from the ground. They shot towards Duncei like miniature meteors.
Engrossed in his new tether technique, Duncei sensed the overwhelming pressure too late! He whirled, phantom dagger flashing behind him. *Thud!* One stone vanished to dust. But twenty more followed. Desperation fueled him. Duncei poured every ounce of his *Vitalis* energy into defense, retreating frantically. The dagger became a frantic shield of light, reducing stone after stone to powder (*Thud! Thud! Thud!*). Yet, through the deadly net, three, four rocks struck true. Pain exploded across his ribs and shoulders. He cried out.
"Your guard is stretched too thin! Power diluted!" Skywrath boomed, already gathering another wave of stones.
Duncei gritted his teeth against the throbbing ache. He pulled the tether close, shrinking his defensive zone to a tight three-yard sphere around him, the dagger a frantic shield spinning before him, bracing for the next assault.
Suddenly, Holy Evil roared. He surged to his feet, eyes blazing molten gold. His jaws gaped. A stream of viscous, ash-grey energy shot forth. The aura around it felt inherently *wrong*, subtly corrosive. The incoming stones hit the grey miasma and… dissolved. Completely. Silently. No impact. Over half the barrage vanished. The remaining few shattered harmlessly against Duncei's dagger shield. Both Duncei and Skywrath froze, eyes locked on the young dragon.
Holy Evil slumped back down, panting heavily, drained by the effort. Duncei rushed to him. "Master Skywrath! What *was* that?" Skywrath's expression was complex. "First contact with a dragon for both of us, Duncei. Ask him."
Duncei knelt beside Holy Evil, stroking his head. "Holy Evil? What was that… breath?" The dragon blinked intelligently but emitted only bewildered chirps and growls. Frustrated, Holy Evil turned towards a drifting plume of mountain mist. He gathered himself weakly, opened his jaws, and spat another, much smaller wisp of the same grey energy. Where it touched the mist, the vapor evaporated instantly. Where it brushed a rock, the stone hissed and melted, leaving deep, smoking gouges. Exhaustion overtook him. His head drooped, eyes fluttering shut.
This time, Skywrath *felt* it. He hissed. "That energy possesses a potent corrosive essence. The stones… they were instantly dissolved. At his maturity, such draconic vitriol… unimaginable. Guard yourself, Duncei. Avoid its touch at all costs – flesh would melt like stone. Your *Vitalis* shield *should* protect you… for now, unless his power surpasses yours. The might of dragons… terrifying indeed. Seven days old, and such potency." He gestured at the sleeping dragon. "Take him in. Remember: defense must be impenetrable. Attack? Relentless momentum, overwhelming force – it must shatter *everything*."
---
**Six Months Later**
Time flowed like molten steel under Swordmaster Skywrath's merciless tutelage. Six months forged Duncei into something far greater than the simpleton who arrived.
His understanding of the *Vitalis Manifestation Art* deepened into the second stage – the Spectral Yellow. Energy flowed from his palm not as a mere dagger, but as a three-foot spectral greatsword humming with contained devastation. He was captivated by its infinite potential, its lethality an intricate dance he practiced obsessively. Control was near reflexive.
The rigorous regimen included brutal physical conditioning. Dawn signaled a mad dash down Mount Aethelgar's treacherous rear slopes and an equally grueling climb back – six thousand vertical feet – all within a single, merciless hour. Skywrath's reasoning was brutally pragmatic: Duncei's mind was slow, his power still growing. Survival demanded the legs of a hare. He had been pathetic initially. Now? He was a ghostly blur descending, a determined engine climbing. His speed had become astounding. Skywrath approved.
Skywrath had poured more of his own immense power into Duncei, pushing him past a threshold. Duncei's core *Vitalis Way* surged to the Seventh Layer, a wellspring of raw, potent energy. Skywrath briefly attempted intricate martial forms, complex footwork and elaborate strikes – Duncei's mind proved impervious. Forgotten faster than learned. Skywrath abandoned it entirely. *Brute force and utter dominance – that will be your path,* he concluded, consigning Duncei to fourteen grueling hours of daily meditation to deepen his reserves. Combined with the lingering potential of the Phoenix Fruit and Skywrath's infused power, Duncei's growth was meteoric. Breaking into the Eighth Layer seemed not a matter of *if*, but *when*.
Holy Evil underwent an even more startling transformation. Regular meals (though lacking significant magical sustenance) couldn't stifle his draconic nature. Three meters of powerful, scaled muscle coiled within the cavern. Leathery wings, now matching his body length, beat the air with increasing confidence, lifting his bulk into brief, exhilarating glides. Those seven knobs on his spine had erupted into stubs of gleaming, golden horns, promising terrifying grandeur. Armor-like slate-grey scales now covered him completely, shimmering with unnatural resilience. Even Skywrath acknowledged their formidable defense. Holy Evil's primary weapons remained his vitriolic Breath and raw physical power. His horns, claws, and sheer mass could crush lesser threats. Ordinary combat aura barely scratched him.
The bond between Duncei and Holy Evil was inseparable. The dragon became Duncei's vigilant shadow, sleeping during his meditations, playfully "assisting" his Manifestation practice by stirring storms of rock and dust with wingbeats to test the young swordsman's defenses. Once flight became possible, Holy Evil joined the brutal dawn runs. His powerful glide made the descent terrifyingly swift. The arduous climb? That was Duncei's domain. Holy Evil often lagged, wings straining against mass and gravity, forced into rest stops before conquering the final ascent. The sheer solitude of Mount Aethelgar's forbidden slopes shielded them from horrified human gazes.
The intense cultivation and expanding power subtly reshaped Duncei. Gone was the purely lumpen look. An aura of rugged stability radiated from him. He possessed a core of solidity, the burgeoning promise of a formidable champion.
---
**Dawn of the Serpent Armor**
A shadow detached itself from the cavern's gloom, flowing like smoke down the treacherous slopes of Mount Aethelgar. No crunch of stone betrayed its passage; the uneven, jagged terrain flowed beneath it like liquid. Close behind, a massive shape uncoiled. Leathery wings snapped taut, catching the air. It soared over its companion, descending in powerful dives, wing beats correcting momentum only when necessary. The descent was terrifyingly swift.
**Duncei**. He embraced the wind, a familiar exhilaration coursing through him. *Vitalis* energy encased him in a white corona, parting the air like a prow. Ahead, Holy Evil's larger silhouette blurred against the mountain face. Duncei grinned fiercely. *Not this time!* He pushed. White light flared as he poured his viscous Seventh Layer energy into his limbs. He became a comet blurring downhill, using rock faces for lightning-fast pivots to control his insane momentum. The race was half the joy.
A thousand feet above the tree line, Holy Evil suddenly stalled. He landed heavily beside a gnarled tree at the edge of a scree slope, wings folding tightly. He tilted his massive head, sniffing the thin air, golden eyes narrowed. His body coiled with alert tension, a low, anxious rumble vibrating from his scaled chest.
Duncei landed beside him, breathing slightly harder than the dragon. "Holy Evil? Something?" Duncei glanced around. Usually, this pause meant prey – mountain goats or massive elk that Holy Evil viewed as walking banquets. But this felt different. Not predatory excitement. Caution. Unease. That was rare. The dragon, even young, radiated an aura that made mountain lions flee. Duncei's hand unconsciously clenched.
Holy Evil didn't acknowledge him. His gaze remained fixed downward, golden eyes scanning the thick foliage below. His shoulders tensed, one foreleg lifted slightly. A predator assessing, not hunting.
A harsh, prolonged *hiss*, like tearing canvas, slithered up from the dense undergrowth. It was impossibly loud, vibrating the very rock beneath their feet.
Holy Evil lurched backwards, wings flaring instinctively. His massive head lowered, a guttural, challenging *grrrroooowl* erupting from deep in his chest. His stance screamed readiness to attack.
Duncei reacted, *Vitalis* energy surging. Golden spectral light coalesced in his palm, flowing outwards, solidifying into a three-foot greatsword of pure, solidified force. Its edge hummed, rippling the air around it. Battle instinct had taken over.
**The Source Revealed.**
A monstrous head breached the treeline. Easily half a meter in diameter. Thick scales glistened, a dark sapphire shot through with venomous undertones. Forked, crimson tongue flicked rapidly. Eyes like burning coals locked onto Holy Evil. Behind the head, a titanic, coiled body came into view – thick as a mature oak. Even partially revealed, over twenty-five feet of scaled muscle was visible. It moved with deceptive, sinuous grace, its sibilant hiss carrying pure malice. It saw Holy Evil, the pinnacle predator, and primal fear warred with ancient fury in its cold gaze. The small human holding a glowing stick barely registered.
**Conflict Ignites.**
Holy Evil struck first. A furious roar shook the mountainside. He snapped his head forward, jaws gaping. A thick stream of corrosive, ash-grey vitriol rocketed towards the serpent's head.
The serpent recoiled, eyes wide with instinctive terror. It hissed savagely, retaliating. A cloud of sickly-sweet, cerise pink vapor exploded from its gaping maw. The colors collided mid-air. *HISSSSSSSSSSSSS!* The corrosive draconic breath met the venomous cloud. They sizzled violently, consuming each other in a torrent of chaotic, evaporating energy. The space between them dissolved. Puffs of residual vapors drifted towards Duncei. He caught a whiff – sharp, cloying. Dizziness slammed into him. He gasped, *Vitalis* energy flaring white-hot as he forcefully purged the debilitating poison from his system.
The serpent, emboldened by the neutralization of the dragon's breath, gathered its massive coils. Terror turned to rage. Its enormous head shot forward, jaws gaping wide enough to engulf a horse, targeting the still-reeling Holy Evil. It saw an opening.
Duncei acted. He blurred forward, becoming a golden-stained streak. He landed silently on the massive serpent's back, near where spine met skull. The creature moved like flowing water beneath him. No hesitation. Survival was paramount. This abomination couldn't be allowed to reach civilization. He drove the spectral yellow greatsword downward with all his Seventh Layer strength. *THWUNK-SCREEECH!* Impact. The near-diamond-hard scales resisted for a millisecond before buckling under the concentrated, magically solidified edge. The blade plunged deep into yielding muscle.
The reaction was seismic. The colossal serpent convulsed. A scream ripped from its throat that was beyond sound, a physical wave of agony and primal fury. Its entire body whipped skyward, an unstoppable avalanche of flesh attempting to crush the annoyance on its back. The sinuous tail, thicker than Duncei's entire body, whipped past his head like a scorpion's strike with the kinetic force of a landslide.
Duncei ripped his sword free and *flowed*. He leapt skyward just as the spot where he stood was pulverized. The serpent writhed like a cosmic rope unfurling. Its remaining revealed length confirmed the horror – easily ninety feet long, maybe more. A thousand-year-old monster given form. The battle aura radiating from its pain-maddened bulk could flatten trees. Blue-black, oily blood poured from the grievous sword wound, steaming where it hit the ground.
Holy Evil crouched, golden eyes blazing with fierce elation, wings ready. A worthy challenge! He unleashed a defiant, earth-shaking bellow.
The wounded Titan coiled itself, a gargantuan spring gathering power. The bleeding rent on its back seemed almost secondary to its vast reserves. The air itself grew heavy with its malice. Duncei vaulted into the lower branches of a towering ancient pine, its highest needles barely brushing Duncei's new perch. His Obsidian Bow, summoned from its dimensional pocket, appeared in his hands. Adrenaline warred with exhaustion. Only three fully empowered shots were possible. Against *this* leviathan? Precision wasn't optional; it was the only hope. Find the brain, or the equivalent of a heart.
He channeled *Vitalis*. A spectral yellow arrow took solid form on the obsidian string. He drew. The mighty bow bent to its absolute limit. Tendons stood out on Duncei's neck. A corona of raw white *Vitalis* blazed around him, his energy pouring into the projectile. His focus lasered onto the serpent's skull, the massive, triangular wedge between the burning coals of its eyes.
**The Stalker's Retort.**
The serpent *felt* the imminent oblivion radiating from the tree. The pressure was unlike anything it had ever known – pure, focused annihilation. Instinct screamed louder than pain. Just as Duncei loosed, the serpent *flung* its titanic tail up, interposing it like a scaly shield between its vulnerable head and the descending golden light.
**Sacrifice. Obliteration.**
The Spectral Arrow met the tail. *CRACK-KABOOM!!!* The sound wasn't loud; it was a *convulsion*. Pure concussive force coupled with devastating energy tore through ancient muscle and bone. The rear third of the serpent… vanished. Instantly replaced by a mist of blood, vaporized scale, and shreds of meat. Where the arrow struck, a crater of raw violence had been excavated. The entire mountainside trembled.
The serpent… reacted. Its world ended in agony beyond any scale. The uncoiled might of its millennia-long life snapped in an instant of apocalyptic fire. Its convulsions became berserk, world-ending spasms. Dust plumed skyward. Ancient trees shattered like kindling under the flailing agony of a demigod being unmade. The air filled with the raw stench of blood and eviscerated innards, sharpened by the lingering acrid bite of Holy Evil's earlier, deflected breath.
Duncei staggered on his branch, energy spent, sweat stinging his eyes. Horror mixed with grim triumph as the cataclysm unfolded below. Only the serpent's insane movements prevented Holy Evil from immediately capitalizing. The dragon paced the outer edge of the destruction zone, golden eyes blazing with anticipation, waiting for the mad dance of death to end. The hunt was almost finished, but the corpse of the mountain itself served as a testament to its terrifying cost.