The battlefield was silent.
Then, like the tearing of a veil, the silence broke. Black shadows rippled outward from a single figure at the center of the devastation. Vespera, the Shadow Monarch, stood amid the lifeless corpses of draconic beasts. Her form was untouched, and her eyes shone in the darkness like twin voids.
Anyone who would see this woman in her current state wouldn’t hesitate to label her a monster.
Hundreds of draconic creatures surrounded her still. Their wings beat the air, stirring ash and dust, but her expression did not change for a single moment.
She lifted one pale hand.
From the floor of the dungeon, innumerable shadows erupted like spears, skewering the creatures. Some fell instantly, others roared and struggled, making their fire-breath cut swathes of darkness, but it did not matter. Their efforts were futile.
Her shadows regenerated, devoured their flames, and bound their throats shut until silence reigned once more.
Then, with a single commanding sweep of her arm, the battlefield was drowned in a black tide. When it receded, only mountains of corpses remained.
Vespera lowered her hand slowly. She felt nothing. There was no time for sentiment.
Still... something was off.
Her cold gaze lingered on the bloodied remains. These draconics were different. They carried an uncanny resilience, sharper reflexes, and patterns of coordination that the "feral" kind that humanity encountered many times before in other dungeons never displayed. Their scales had crystalline ridges to them, their fire burned with streaks of violet, appearing to be some form of mutation she had not seen in prior dungeons nor in reports.
"A new subspecies, or... Evolving?" Her voice was flat, though the thought stirred a ripple beneath her mask of control.
But in the next second, the Shadow Monarch dismissed the corpses to her shadow-dimension with a wave. Then, her form blurred into shadows and vanished.
She reemerged within another cavern chamber with her shadows unfurling around her like wings. Ahead, three figures stood victorious over a fresh massacre of beasts.
Selena, her eldest daughter. She was regal, her long black hair bound high, her eyes sharp as her mother’s. Cassian and Calix, the twin sons, stood back-to-back among the fallen.
Vespera said nothing, no remarks of maternal pride or congratulations on a fight well done. Instead, her gaze drifted beyond them. Across the vast expanse of the chamber, the New Dawn guild was mopping up the last remnants of draconic resistance. At their head, Magnus Ashborn stood like a mountain of iron will, directing their awakened forces as their commander. But he was not the typical backline commander; his greatsword was red-hot from carving through the beasts.
It did not take long for the battle to end. The call went out, and soon, the leaders gathered.
A council of titans.
From New Dawn, Vespera and Magnus Ashborn.
From Crimson Dominion, Lazarus.
From the Radiant Order, Evangeline and Raziel.
And lastly—though not tied to any guild, yet standing on equal ground—the mercenary, Scarlet. The Flame Monarch. A crimson-haired beauty whose wildfire power had carved her a seat among legends.
The heat was still rolling off Scarlet’s body like ripples from a forge. Her crimson hair was bright orange, still showing sparks, while her burning eyes glowed like embers refusing to die. Just like Vespera Ashborn, this woman, too, was danger incarnate, wrapped in human beauty.
Her gaze swept the battlefield, then the bloodied corpses all around them.
"Is it just me, or is something wrong? These aren’t just stronger draconians. They’re never-before-seen upgraded versions in all senses of the word. Craftier. Strategic... Thinking on a deep level."
Lazarus gave a grunt that could’ve belonged to a beast. He swung his colossal axe in a lazy arc, sending a fresh spray of black-red monster blood across the stone floor. The coppery stench filled the air.
"My secretary told me the same. Dungeons everywhere have been acting strange lately."


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