Chapter 16: Echoes of Destiny
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The arena lay in ruin. The explosion of dark energy had left cracks splintering across the ground, debris scattered, and the air thick with residual tension. The crowd, once in awe of Alen's overwhelming display of power, now stood in stunned silence, unsure of what to make of the new threat that had emerged. Even the most seasoned warriors had retreated a few steps, their faces pale with apprehension.
Alen remained standing amidst the destruction, though his body felt the weight of the battle. His **vampiric regeneration** had already started working, healing the minor injuries from the recent attack. His breathing was heavy but controlled. He had faced a great deal of challenges in his training, but none quite like this.
The **System's** warning still echoed in his mind: **"New threat detected. Unknown entity approaching. Danger level: high."**
Alen's sharp eyes searched the arena for the figure, now more visible through the dissipating smoke. Its form, once shrouded in darkness, was clearer. Its cloak had been torn by the force of the explosion, revealing glimpses of its true form—twisted, dark, and ancient. Despite the damage, the figure still hovered menacingly, exuding an aura of malevolent power.
The entity's glowing red eyes locked onto Alen's, studying him intently. It floated silently for a moment before it spoke again, its voice rasping like grinding stone.
"So, this is the **Saint of Dragons**," the figure said, the title dripping with disdain. "You are strong, but you are far from ready."
Alen felt the weight of its words, but his expression remained calm. "Who are you?" he asked, his voice steady despite the unease settling in his chest. "Why have you attacked me?"
The figure's chuckle was low, dark, and devoid of warmth. "I am but a fragment of what is to come. A messenger, if you will, sent to test your worth."
Alen's eyes narrowed. **"Test my worth?"**
The figure floated closer, its presence overwhelming, the shadows around it growing thicker. "You've grown powerful quickly, Saint of Dragons. But your rise has not gone unnoticed. Forces far greater than you can comprehend are already watching."
A cold chill swept through Alen's spine, though he refused to let it show. *So, this is more than just a random attack,* he thought. *I've been targeted because of my potential.*
The figure's eyes flared brighter. "There is a **calamity** on the horizon, something that will devour worlds and bring the most powerful beings to their knees. Your destiny is intertwined with it."
The word **calamity** hung in the air like a curse. Alen had heard nothing of it before, but the mere mention of such a force sent a ripple of unease through him. "Calamity?" he muttered under his breath.
The figure smirked beneath its hood, as if savoring Alen's confusion. "Yes, Saint of Dragons. The **calamity** is coming. And you are far from ready to face it."
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Alen felt a brief surge of doubt creep into his thoughts. He had just formed his Mana and Qi cores, unlocked incredible abilities from his draconic, vampiric, and incubus bloodlines, and demonstrated powers that awed even the most seasoned warriors. Yet here stood this figure—this messenger of chaos—telling him that it wasn't enough.
His mind raced. He knew he couldn't afford to falter now. He had been granted a second life by the Dragon God for a reason, and that reason was now starting to become clearer.
**"System,"** Alen called mentally, his tone sharp. **"What is this calamity? Can you give me any information?"**
The **System's** cold, mechanical voice responded, a slight pause before answering:
**[The calamity is an ancient convergence of chaotic energy, darkness, and destruction. It is a force that has destroyed worlds in the past, and it is feared even by the gods. The Dragon God selected you as his successor to prevent its spread. Current threat level: distant but inevitable.]**
Alen felt the weight of the **System's** words. The calamity wasn't some far-off legend—it was a real and imminent danger, one that would one day consume everything if left unchecked. His destiny, his very existence, had been tied to stopping it.
But for now, it was clear that this battle wasn't about defeating the calamity—it was about proving his strength. And the messenger standing before him was a reminder of what awaited him in the future.
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The figure raised its hand, and the shadows around it coalesced into a swirling mass of energy. "Let me show you how weak you still are, Saint of Dragons."
Without warning, the figure unleashed its most powerful attack yet—a concentrated orb of pure **darkness**, swirling with chaotic energy. It was a vortex of destruction, pulling everything around it into its void.
Alen's instincts flared. His draconic senses screamed at him to act fast. His eyes narrowed, and he immediately began summoning his elemental power. The air around him crackled with electricity as **lightning** surged to life, intertwining with the radiant glow of **light** that now radiated from his body.
**"System, analyze the attack,"** Alen commanded, even as he prepared his counterstrike.
**[Analysis complete: The orb is composed of highly concentrated dark mana, capable of destabilizing anything it touches. Recommended course of action: neutralize with a combined elemental assault.]**
Without hesitation, Alen thrust his hands forward, channeling the power of **light** and **lightning** together. The two forces combined into a radiant spear of energy that crackled with immense power. With a fierce roar, he hurled the spear straight toward the dark orb.
The collision was catastrophic. The arena trembled as the forces met, light and dark battling for supremacy. The crowd could do nothing but watch in stunned silence as the entire area was illuminated by the clash of powers.
Alen pushed harder, pouring more of his energy into the attack. The orb was strong—far stronger than anything he had faced before—but he refused to back down. His connection to the **light** element surged, filling him with divine power. At the same time, his **dragon blood** roared to life within him, fueling his body with primal strength.
The **light spear** cut through the shadows, slicing the dark orb apart piece by piece. The figure, seeing its attack fail, released a low growl of frustration.
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Alen knew he had to end this now. His body was nearing its limit, but he couldn't afford to let the figure continue. He reached deep within himself, summoning every ounce of power from his three bloodlines.
His **Draconic Bloodline** surged to the surface. Alen's form shimmered, and in an instant, he transformed into his **partial dragon state**—scales covered his body, his eyes burned with golden fire, and his muscles rippled with newfound strength. His wings unfurled, spreading wide behind him, casting a massive shadow across the arena.
In this form, he was a force of nature.
With a final roar, Alen gathered **light**, **fire**, and **lightning** into his chest, preparing for a full **Dragon Breath**. The energy condensed into a brilliant, burning ball of raw elemental power.
The figure's eyes widened beneath its hood. It could sense the overwhelming strength of the attack, and for the first time, a flicker of fear passed through its gaze.
Alen unleashed the Dragon Breath, a blinding torrent of energy that shot across the arena, tearing through everything in its path. The figure raised its arms in a desperate attempt to shield itself, but it was too late.
The breath struck the figure with devastating force. The shadows around it were obliterated, and the figure itself began to disintegrate, its form unraveling in the face of Alen's unstoppable power.
As the light faded, all that remained of the figure was a wisp of dark mist, slowly dissipating into the air.
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The figure's voice, now weak and distant, echoed through the arena one last time. "This… is only the beginning… You may have passed this test, Saint of Dragons, but others… are watching. The calamity will come… and you are far from ready."
With that, the figure dissolved completely, leaving nothing behind but a lingering sense of dread.
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Alen stood still, his body trembling with exhaustion. His draconic form faded, and he returned to his human appearance, though his legs nearly gave out from the strain. He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what had just happened settle in.
The **System**'s voice broke the silence.
**[Congratulations, Host. You have successfully defeated the unknown entity. Reward: +10 skill points, +5 stat points, +1000 DDP.]**
The **System** added further clarification.
**[Draconic Demon Points (DDP) have been added to your total. You may now access the System Store to purchase skills, enhancements, or items.]**
Alen barely registered the rewards. His mind was too focused on what the figure had said. The **calamity** was real, and it was coming. This fight had been a test, a reminder of the greater dangers lurking in his future.
For now, he would continue to grow stronger, but he couldn't ignore the reality that one day, he would have to face this calamity head-on.
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