Chapter 348

The dragon had lived longer than the world. It had seen the rise and fall of countless empires, the birth and death of gods, and the slow decay of humanity. It was no longer a creature of myth, no longer a nightmare whispered about in fearful tongues. It was real. It was old. And it was angry.

The beast had spent centuries hiding beneath the crags of the mountains, in the deep caves that were forgotten by man. Time didn't matter to it. The world could burn, empires could crumble, and the dragon would still be there, waiting. It was a thing of legend, yes, but legends were rarely true, and this one had grown stronger than anyone could imagine.

The world had changed. Its power was now beyond comprehension. The dragon could destroy the earth with a single breath, a single motion of its body. But it didn't want to. Not yet. Revenge, after all, was a dish best served slowly.

It had a plan. It had time.

And so it waited.

In the town of Tarington, the day was cold. The sun was a pale disc in the sky, casting long, twisted shadows on the ground. The people went about their business, unaware of the approaching storm.

Among them was a man named Adric. He was a hunter, a man of simple means who had never known luxury but had known loss all too well. His family was gone. His friends were long dead, and he was alone in a world that seemed to offer nothing but despair.

Adric didn't care much for the world around him. It was a place of pain, a place that had taken everything from him. But still, he survived. He had learned to hunt, to fight, to endure. He had to.

On this particular day, he stood outside the local tavern, staring out at the horizon. The wind bit at his skin, and the trees shuddered under the cold. There was a tension in the air, something that didn't belong. The birds had stopped singing, and the silence was heavy, thick. He felt it, though he couldn't name it.

Something was wrong.

And then he saw it.

A shape moved in the distance, rising from the earth like a nightmare taking form. It was a blur of dark scales, glistening in the dim light. The dragon. Adric's heart pounded in his chest as the beast approached. He had heard the stories—of course, everyone had—but no one had believed them. Dragons were myths. They were creatures of old tales, not things that lived among men. Yet here it was.

The dragon's eyes locked onto him, and Adric froze. He didn't move. He couldn't. The beast's gaze was cold, ancient, and it seemed to see right through him, past his flesh, to the soul beneath.

The dragon's mouth opened, and Adric braced for death. But the beast didn't strike. Instead, it spoke. The voice was low, a rumble in the air, like thunder before a storm.

"Adric," the dragon said, its voice carrying the weight of centuries.

Adric stumbled back, his legs weak beneath him. "How do you know my name?"

The dragon chuckled, a sound like rocks grinding together. "I have known you since you were a child. Your family. Your lineage. You've been marked for this moment."

Adric's breath hitched. "What do you want from me?"

The dragon's eyes gleamed with something cold and ancient, a hatred that seemed to come from the very bones of the earth. "Nothing. Nothing but your suffering."

And with that, it turned and vanished into the horizon.

Adric stood there, paralyzed. He didn't know what to think, what to do. The world felt different, as if the very air had shifted. The ground beneath his feet seemed unstable, like it might give way at any moment. He knew something had changed. He had seen the dragon. And that meant everything had changed.

For the next several weeks, the world seemed to fall into chaos. It was subtle at first—small things, things that could easily be explained away. Crops died. Animals vanished. People began to disappear, their homes abandoned. But as the days went on, the signs became harder to ignore.

Adric had heard stories from travelers. Of towns where the earth had split open, where fires burned with unnatural fury, where the sky itself had turned black. And always, in the distance, the dragon's shape could be seen. No one could understand why or how. But they all knew it was the dragon's doing.

And all the while, Adric felt its presence. He saw the shadows stretching longer each day, as if the sun itself was afraid to shine. He felt the dragon's gaze upon him, even when it wasn't there.

And then, one night, he saw it again. The dragon, looming over the town like a dark cloud, watching from the edge of the mountains. It didn't attack. It didn't do anything. It simply watched.

Adric knew it was waiting. And that thought filled him with dread. Because what could one man do against a creature so powerful, so ancient, that it could destroy the world in an instant?

He had heard the stories, of course. The tales of knights and kings who had fought dragons and lived to tell the tale. But those were just stories. This was real. And Adric wasn't a hero. He was just a man.

But even so, he knew he had to try.

He gathered his things—his bow, his sword, his hunting knives—and set off toward the mountains. There was no logic to it. No plan. He just knew he had to face it. He had to do something.

The journey was long, and the land grew colder with each passing mile. The mountains loomed ahead, their jagged peaks reaching into the sky like the claws of some great beast. And as he walked, he felt the weight of the world pressing down on him, as if the earth itself were holding its breath.

When he finally reached the cave where the dragon lay, he stood at the entrance, staring into the blackness. He could hear it inside, breathing, a sound like the wind through the trees, deep and slow.

Adric stepped inside.

The dragon's eyes opened in the darkness, glowing like coals. It regarded him for a moment, and then, without moving, it spoke.

"Did you really think you could stop me?" the dragon asked, its voice like the crackling of fire.

Adric said nothing. He couldn't. His throat was dry, his mouth too parched to speak. All he could do was stand there, staring into the beast's eyes, waiting for death.

And the dragon looked at him, its gaze cold and unfeeling. "You were always going to fail. There was no hope. There was never any hope."

And then, in a flash, the dragon exhaled. A single, slow breath.

The world exploded.

Adric's body was ripped apart, torn by the force of the dragon's rage. The ground shook, the air burned, and everything—everything—disappeared in an instant.

The dragon, though, remained. It stood tall, its body unscathed, its eyes cold with ancient rage. It had waited. It had bided its time. And now, it was done.

The world would burn. And it would be slow.