The Watch Tower/ Training of the True Dragons

In the grand Watchtower of the City of Eternal Night, four figures stood watching what was supposed to be an earth-shattering battle—yet, it looked more like a child throwing a tantrum before a god.

The cool night breeze whistled through the open balcony of the tower as Arion, the enigmatic overlord, leaned against the railing, his eyes fixed on the spectacle below. Beside him, Veldora, in his human form, stood with his arms crossed, a wide grin stretching across his face, radiating smug satisfaction. Diablo, ever the composed and cunning demon, observed with a sly smile, while Testarossa, her elegant demeanor unshaken, let out a small, exasperated sigh as Guy continued his futile assault.

Guy's Napalm Burst roared across the battlefield like the wrath of a sun god—yet, the moment it touched Veldanava, it simply… ceased to exist. Not even a spark remained.

Veldora burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. "Hah! That fool actually thought that would work! Oh, this is priceless!"

Arion, still watching, smirked. "To be fair, it's impressive that he has the guts to try. I'd have just walked away."

Diablo chuckled, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Indeed, Lord Arion. However, our dear Guy is not known for his sense of self-preservation."

Testarossa, shaking her head, rested her cheek against her hand, looking completely unimpressed. "He's burning through all his energy for nothing. I almost feel bad for him… almost."

The battle continued, and Guy launched into a relentless barrage of attacks. His fists blurred, his power cracked the very air around them, and yet—Veldanava hadn't moved an inch.

Veldora smirked and turned to Arion. "Hey, what do you think's going through Guy's head right now?"

Arion, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, mimicked Guy's voice, "Maybe if I just hit him a little harder, reality itself will bend and I'll win!"

Diablo burst out laughing, and even Testarossa let out a soft chuckle.

Then, the moment they were all waiting for arrived.

Veldanava, after five long minutes of allowing Guy to attack, simply exhaled.

Then—it happened.

A single unseen attack struck Guy, and in an instant, he was on the ground, motionless, broken, utterly defeated.

Silence filled the watchtower.

Veldora blinked. "…Wait. That's it?"

Diablo smiled darkly. "That's all it took."

Testarossa sighed dramatically, "And here I was expecting something more… thrilling. What a disappointment."

Arion, however, shook his head in awe. "No… this was incredible. I always knew Veldanava was powerful, but seeing it firsthand? It's on another level. Compared to him, strength really is meaningless."

Veldora, still chuckling, patted Arion on the shoulder. "Welcome to reality, buddy. Now you understand why I don't bother challenging my brother."

Diablo, stroking his chin, mused aloud, "I do wonder… what will Guy do now? He just had his entire sense of pride shattered. A demon like him, with a superiority complex that big? This could be either his greatest awakening… or his most humiliating downfall."

Then, as if fate was listening, Veldanava's voice echoed across the battlefield:

"Would you like to work for me?"

The watchtower fell into stunned silence.

Veldora blinked. "Did… did he just get a job offer?"

Arion smirked. "Looks like Guy just got recruited."

Testarossa, ever composed, grinned. "What an unexpected twist. He went from 'I am the strongest' to 'Do you need any assistance, sir?' in under ten minutes."

Diablo chuckled deeply, "Oh, I cannot wait to see how Guy reacts to this."

Veldora threw his arms up. "I know! This is the greatest thing I've ever seen! Someone pass me a drink—I want to enjoy this moment!"

And so, from the Watchtower of Eternal Night, the four powerful beings continued watching history unfold, thoroughly entertained by the downfall—and possible rise—of the once arrogant Demon Lord, Guy.

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The vast glacial expanse stretched endlessly beneath the twin figures locked in combat. The air was so bitingly cold that even the strongest of creatures would freeze in an instant, yet for Velzard, the White Ice Dragon, and Velgrynd, the Flaming Empress, it was merely a suitable battlefield for their training.

Velzard stood unshaken, her elegant, ice-kissed form shimmering under the pale light. With a mere wave of her hand, massive spires of ice erupted from the ground, each one radiating an unholy chill. Velgrynd, her body wreathed in scarlet flames, shattered them with swift, heated strikes, the force of her blows melting the icy terrain beneath her.

For hours, the two sisters clashed, flames consuming ice, ice swallowing flames, neither yielding an inch. Velzard's calm, calculated movements met Velgrynd's aggressive, blazing counterattacks. It was an eternal dance—cold precision versus fiery passion.

Then, suddenly—Velgrynd stopped.

Standing amidst the smoldering battlefield, she gazed at Velzard, her crimson eyes narrowed with curiosity.

"Sister," Velgrynd said, crossing her arms, "tell me something."

Velzard, brushing a stray lock of silver hair away from her icy blue eyes, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You finally need my wisdom, little sister?"

Velgrynd scoffed. "Spare me the arrogance." Her tone grew serious. "I've been thinking about Veldora."****"

At the mere mention of their younger brother, Velzard's expression shifted slightly—one of mild amusement mixed with subtle irritation. "What about him?"

Velgrynd frowned. "How did he become stronger than you?"

A brief silence.

Velzard's gaze sharpened. "Excuse me?"

Velgrynd crossed her arms, tilting her head slightly. "You heard me. Veldora was always the weakest among us. He was reckless, undisciplined, and while he had vast amounts of magicules, he never trained seriously." She narrowed her eyes. "But now… he's different. Stronger than you. Stronger than me, even. So I have to ask—did Elder Brother train him?"

Velzard's lips curled into a half-smile, half-scowl. "Hah! Veldora? Training under Veldanava? Now that would be a sight to behold. But no… I highly doubt our Elder Brother wasted time disciplining that unruly fool."

Velgrynd took a step closer. "Then that begs the question—how? Who made him this strong? Unless…" She trailed off, her expression darkening. "Unless he met someone capable of taming and training him?"

Velzard's smirk faltered. "…Go on."

Velgrynd's voice dropped to a whisper. "If that is the case, then it means someone is out there—someone strong enough to force our wild, untamed brother into discipline. And if that's true…"

A chilling realization dawned between them.

Velzard's eyes narrowed. "Then that means there's someone out there… stronger than all of us."

The wind howled around them, ice and fire mingling in the air, but neither sister spoke for a moment. The weight of that possibility hung between them, settling into their bones like a creeping frost.

Velgrynd clenched her fists. "Who could possibly be strong enough to make Veldora submit?"

Velzard, for once, had no immediate answer. "I don't know."

But in the back of her mind, a single, unsettling thought whispered through the cold.

Whoever it was… they were not to be taken lightly.