Ilútar

The biting wind whistled through the rubble, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and dust. Tyrin panted, his knees buckling under the weight of exhaustion. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, each breath a struggle, his muscles screaming in protest.

The dagger trembled in his sweaty fingers, slippery with a mix of sweat and blood. His heart pounded in his chest—not just from the pain, but from the growing fear tightening around his throat. A single enemy was already a death sentence, and he had to survive.

Gertrudes fought bravely against one adversary, while Shiva faced another. The two pets were giving their all, but they couldn't hold back two enemies. The battle was teetering on the edge of a blade. It was up to Tyrin to hold off the fourth—or rather, to endure, just for a few more moments.

But the Aracnafon wouldn't grant him that luxury.

The creature advanced, its legs digging into the ground with a menacing cadence, its eyes gleaming with cruel hunger. Time seemed to stretch, each passing second an eternity Tyrin wasn't sure he could withstand.

— Tyrin, watch out! — The voice rang out, a desperate warning.

Tyrin barely had time to react. Aracnafon's movements were too fast for his eyes to follow. All he saw were flashes, indistinct blurs of impending destruction. When he finally registered the attack coming his way, it was too late.

With great effort, he raised his arms to defend himself. The enemy's sharp blade struck the dagger guarding his abdomen with brutal force.

The impact sent him hurtling against the stone wall with crushing violence. The world around him trembled before the wall shattered into pieces, debris flying in all directions. Thick clouds of dust rose, obscuring his vision as he groaned in pain, feeling every bone in his body protest against the force of the blow.

The silence lasted only a moment before a cold laugh filled the space.

On the other side, Aracnafon watched him with a cruel smile. His body, a grotesque fusion of human and insect, moved with an almost mocking grace. His legs intertwined as he circled Tyrin, multifaceted eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

— Is this all you've got, human? — Aracnafon taunted, leaning forward as if inspecting a pathetic creature. — You can barely stand. My brothers are having a real fight while I'm stuck with this trash.

Tyrin didn't respond. He knew words wouldn't save him.

With a desperate cry, he lunged, trying to strike the monster with all the strength he had left. But it was useless.

Aracnafon dodged effortlessly, spinning around him and swiping at him lightly with one of his sharp claws. The blow wasn't strong enough to cause serious injury, but the humiliation was evident as Tyrin was sent sprawling to the ground, choking on dust.

— So slow… so weak. — Aracnafon chuckled, circling the fallen boy. — Come on, entertain me a little longer! Don't die so quickly.

Tyrin gritted his teeth, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth. He tried to get up, but his leg gave out, and he collapsed again. Frustration burned in his chest. He couldn't win. There was no way. The monster was merely toying with him.

Aracnafon clicked his claws, bored. — Bah… I'm already getting tired of this. Maybe it's best to end it right now.

That was when something changed.

A shiver ran down Tyrin's spine. A strange sensation began to rise within him, as if an invisible thread was being pulled from the depths of his soul. His eyes flickered for an instant, and the air around him seemed to vibrate.

Aracnafon stopped. His mocking expression faded for a brief moment, replaced by cold curiosity.

— What is this?

Tyrin didn't know. All he knew was that, for the first time, the fear in his eyes was replaced by something else.

Suddenly, a voice struck Tyrin like a distant whisper—yet at the same time, it was powerful and undeniable. It wasn't an external call but something coming from within, from a deep place in his soul he had never known before.

The sensation was overwhelming, as if something long dormant was awakening, responding to his desperation.

He felt the presence. It had always been there, yet it had never been accessible. A silent promise, an invisible bond waiting for the right moment to manifest.

And now, with his body battered, his pride shattered, and his mind teetering on the brink of collapse, that call echoed louder, demanding an answer.

His heart pounded. It was an irrepressible desire, a need that transcended logic. Without concern for the consequences, his trembling fingers reached for a small amulet hidden beneath his tattered clothes—a gift received long ago but never used. The object, cold against his wounded skin, seemed to vibrate, pulsing as if it knew its time had come.

Tyrin closed his eyes and whispered a name.

— Karma, come to me.

The air around him shifted. A primal energy began to flow, swirling into vortexes of fire and shadow. Everyone fighting froze, and even the Gatekeeper's boredom gave way to curiosity. The dust that had risen dispersed, and the sound of a faint yet potent roar filled the space. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

The Aracnafon, who had been toying with the boy's weakness, suddenly stopped. His narrowed eyes reflected the change in the atmosphere.

— What is this…? — he murmured, for the first time without a smile on his face.

From the shadows, a small creature emerged. Its scales shimmered with dark reflections, its tiny wings trembled, still unaccustomed to the world around it. The hatchling's golden eyes locked onto Tyrin, as if it had waited its entire existence for this moment.

It was a dragon. His dragon.

The bond, once dormant, was now unbreakable.

Tyrin, still gasping for breath, met the gaze of his newborn companion. He didn't know if this would change the course of the battle, but something inside him had ignited.

For the first time, he wasn't alone.

Then, as he looked into the dragon's eyes, something deep awakened within him. An ancient wisdom—something never taught—was injected into his mind like an overwhelming tide. A power he had never known filled him completely. And he had no intention of wasting this opportunity.

He lifted his gaze to Aracnafon and, for the first time, smiled. A strange smile, laden with a newfound certainty. Without hesitation, he inhaled deeply, feeling the heat gathering in his chest. Something primal, something ancient, was awakening in his body. The air around him shimmered with fiery sparks, and then, without thinking, he called upon what had long lain dormant within him.

A guttural roar tore from his throat, echoing through the space with overwhelming force. Flames began to condense around him, swirling into incandescent currents that gathered at his mouth. The pain was intense, scorching his throat as if ripping through his flesh from within, but his mind no longer registered suffering. All he felt was the rising power, building up until he could contain it no longer.

A single word came to him, an ancestral whisper.

— Incendium.

The world erupted in flames.

A surge of purple fire burst from his mouth, expanding like a living wall, consuming everything in its path. The flames moved with almost intelligent precision, avoiding allies and hunting down enemies with predatory intent. The Aracnafon tried to react, but there was no escape. The fire enveloped them, scorching their grotesque carapaces, consuming them in a heat that would never fade.

Desperate, the Gatekeeper raised his arms, trying to hold back the flames. But when he realized he couldn't extinguish them, he made a brutal decision. With a scream of agony, he drove his own sharp blades into his burning limbs, severing them to escape the relentless fire. With one last look of hatred, he threw himself into the abyss, vanishing into the darkness below.

Silence reigned over the ruined battlefield.

Tyrin collapsed to his knees, breathless and completely bare, as his clothes had turned to ash. The small dragon landed beside him, watching with golden eyes filled with curiosity and joy. Tyrin's own eyes, once shining like molten gold, returned to their normal color before he lost consciousness.

The battle had changed.

And with it, so had Tyrin.

🌀 STATUS 🌀

Level: 27 → 34 (+7)

Classification: SSS / 00 — Primordial Apex

Strength: 72

Endurance: 77

Speed: 55

Skill: 69

Psyche: 0 → 200 (+200)

Available Points: 63

🔹 Hidden Abilities:

Precursor (+100 to all stats) (requirements not met)

Precursor of the Middle (+500 to all stats) (requirements not met)

Precursor of the End (+1000 to all stats) (requirements not met)

Precursor of Redemption (+1,000,000 to all stats) (requirements not met)

Unshakable (+10 to all stats) (hidden)

Incendium (+200 to Psyche) (pet ability)

Scales of Ilútar (+200 to Endurance) (pet ability)

🐉 Pet:

Ilútar, the Dragon