The dark clouds hung low over Axe Island, heavy and suffocating, suppressing even the faintest moonlight. The night was deep, yet the silence carried the weight of anticipation, as if the air itself trembled in expectation.
A massive black dragon moved like shadowed stone across the hilltops, its wings folded close against its scaled body. Damian Thorne crouched atop the highest ridge, his figure half-hidden within the dragon's enormous silhouette. Lava-like lines of red and gold flickered faintly across his exposed skin, the residue of his transformation slowly fading back into human form.
He donned his simple black trousers and shirt with deliberate care, surveying the distant lights of pirate outposts and the dense silhouettes of anchored ships in the harbor. His eyes narrowed slightly, a playful, calculating smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Hm? So many ships… and they're all mine," Damian murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying barely above the whispering wind.
Before he could continue, a peculiar mist began to rise from the slopes around him. At first, it was subtle, curling around stones and roots, but it quickly thickened into a dense white haze that moved with unnerving intent. It was not cold—it carried a faint, sulphurous heat, like the breath of the underworld itself. The tendrils of fog slithered down the hillside, consuming trees, rocks, and all obstacles, advancing relentlessly toward the pirate stronghold and the surrounding harbor.
Within moments, the entire island of Axe Island was swallowed by an opaque, suffocating fog. Visibility dropped to nearly nothing, and an unnatural dampness clung to every surface.
"It's foggy! Thick as soup!" shouted a pirate on watch.
"This… this is terrible weather!" another cursed, panic rising in his chest.
The gongs of the outposts clanged frantically, their sound reverberating through the eerie haze. The fog had arrived too quickly, too thickly, moving with an almost sentient intent. Panic spread like wildfire. Pirates spilled out of their shacks and taverns, their curses rapidly turning to terror.
The veterans of the Basilisk Islands had heard the legends: the sudden death of Golthos, shadows stalking the jungles of Imenta, ships vanishing without trace. But until now, those stories had always been abstract warnings. Now, fear gripped their throats with cold hands, tightening like a noose.
The thick fog persisted through the night, refusing to dissipate even under the silver light of the hidden moon. It was not until dawn's first weak rays filtered through the veil that the mist began to retreat. Pirates dared to lift their eyes, breathing shakily, checking one another's dew-soaked faces. Relief mixed with a lingering unease—the memory of the fog's presence would not soon fade.
At sea, aboard the Megalodon, the blind old man squinted with his pale, sightless eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching in unease. He stared at the motionless fog that circled Axe Island, forming an impenetrable barrier around the harbor, a silent, invisible cage that held the entire island hostage.
Word of the strange phenomenon spread quickly.
"What the hell did Axe Island provoke now?" Qi Chuan Luo growled, kicking a wine barrel over in frustration. The red liquid spread across the floor, reflecting the eerie morning light. His massive axe, taller than a man, gleamed coldly at his side.
When the fog wall appeared, he had immediately gathered his bravest men and attempted to sail through it. The small boat vanished into the white nothingness, swallowed by the unnatural mist. Hours later, when Drake's crew summoned him to a council of pirate leaders, they found the wreckage of the vessel and the mutilated bodies of his men, pushed silently back to shore by the relentless waves.
Inside Drake's cabin, Ni Luo and Old Blind Eye clenched their fists, their faces twisted with rage. The destruction of High Gothos and the strange legends of cannibalism from Sothoryos felt like two invisible hands squeezing their throats, leaving no room for comfort or reason.
"I think I know what's happening," Derek said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. He clapped his hands, signaling the arrival of two men who struggled to carry a small iron cage. Within it curled a thin, frail figure.
"Last month, we looted an Asshai ship and captured a wizard," Drake said grimly. "I suspect these… things… have made a pact with forces we do not understand. They're the ones behind the chaos."
Ni Luo turned pale. "You kept a wizard in captivity? Are you insane?"
"You fool!" the blind old man shouted, his voice like dry leaves rustling. "You've endangered all of us by keeping him alive this long!"
Qi Chuan Luo said nothing, his brow furrowed as he gripped the handle of his massive axe. He strode toward the cage and slammed the axe against the iron bars. "Open this!"
Drake signaled, and the guards trembled as they unlocked the cage. Qi Chuan Luo pulled the thin, ragged figure to the floor like a discarded sack.
The man had greasy, matted black hair. His left eye socket was a dark, gaping hole, a black void that seemed to swallow the light. His single remaining eye swept the room, empty and cold, devoid of emotion.
"Bastard, stop your tricks!" Qi Chuan Luo bellowed, his voice shaking the wooden roof beams.
The blind old man stepped closer, trembling slightly. "Wizard… stop whatever trickery you're trying. We'll spare your life if you comply!"
Ni Luo turned away, disgust etched deep into his features, unwilling to watch the miserable figure any longer.
The wizard ignored them. He raised a filthy, trembling hand, the long, crooked nails pointing toward Drake. A hoarse, broken sound rumbled from his throat.
"You… are being hunted…"
His voice cracked like splintering wood, a dry echo of something powerful restrained. He seemed to want to laugh but could only manage a grotesque, wheezing sound.
"Source of magic… the most powerful magic…" the wizard whispered hoarsely, eyes darting to the window.
Qi Chuan Luo's patience snapped. He punched the wizard's stomach, cutting off the horrid sound abruptly.
"He's stubborn," Drake said, a dark gleam in his eyes. "We tortured him for weeks, hoping to extract the secrets of Yashai, but he refused to speak."
"Hold him still!" the blind old man roared, drawing a gleaming skinning knife. "I will flay him alive if he resists!"
---
Far above the island, Damian Thorne stretched and emerged from the cave he had used to sleep through the night. The morning wind carried everything to his senses—the whispers of fear, the anger, and the faint, uniquely magical currents emanating from the island below.
"Hm? A wizard?" Damian murmured, one brow raised, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Asshai wizards, and they dared to touch them? How bold."
He laughed softly to himself, the sound low and rolling like distant thunder. "If you're that daring, why not raid Qarth next? Capture a few more for sport."
Damian folded his coat carefully into his satchel, then took a deep breath. A roar erupted from his chest, splitting the morning air, vibrating across the hills and shaking the rocks.
In an instant, the massive black dragon erupted into the sky, scales glinting with metallic sheen in the sunlight. Wings unfurled, catching the wind as it propelled Damian toward Axe Island, the enormous shadow blotting out the sun.
---
Inside the pirate stronghold, the wizard remained tied to a crude wooden cross. Ni Luo leaned closer, his voice low but urgent.
"If you behave, I can save you. Just cooperate…"
The wizard's one good eye slowly turned toward him, empty as the abyss, then flicked toward the hilltop Damian had occupied.
"I will not die here," he rasped. "My destiny… is not here."
"Bang!"
A hand struck him across the face. Derek spat angrily. "Stop your theatrics! Cooperate or die—you're choosing death!"
The blind old man raised his knife, scratching the wizard's arm lightly, leaving a thin streak of blood. "I've heard… you wield the most dangerous magic in the world…"
His words were cut short.
Outside, a commotion erupted. Pirates screamed and scrambled in every direction.
Qi Chuan Luo spun toward the window. His jaw dropped as he saw a shadow the size of a mountain descending upon them.
"Oh gods! That's a dragon!"
"It's coming!"
"Run!"
The pirates, weapons in hand, didn't resist—they ran, desperate, toward the shore and their vessels.
Several pirate leaders also fled, glancing up at the colossal black dragon, massive beyond imagination, wings folded yet immense, shadowing the entire island.
The dragon's landing shook the stronghold violently, sending dust and rubble spiraling into the air. A thunderous roar echoed across Axe Island, followed by a torrent of platinum flames erupting from the dragon's maw. Pirates who had fled the farthest were incinerated instantly, consumed by the precise, lethal fire.
The wizard watched in awe and terror, eyes wide, for the first time revealing a frenzied expression. He slammed his head against the wooden frame, screaming with excitement and disbelief.
"What… what magic is this?!" he yelled, the voice of a man finally meeting true power. "What magic… is this!"
Damian Thorne had arrived. The Dragon King's shadow fell over the Basilisk Islands, and the pirates would never forget the name that had destroyed their world.
---