The Legendary Mage (Alavin) novel Chapter 17

After downing six cups of fiery spirits, Alavin could no longer bear the brunt of the alcohol. His head throbbed and ached, and in a blurry haze, he slumped onto a pile of hay and soon fell asleep.

In his slumber, he seemed to travel back to his childhood, to the distant lands of Stormcast. He saw his mother, his father, his sister, and many familiar kinfolk. The lord's keep was filled with laughter and joy, a picture of bliss and happiness.

Alavin ran excitedly towards the familiar figures, but although they were right before him, they seemed not to see him. He shouted and waved frantically in front of each person, but his relatives were indifferent.

As if in a daze, everyone grew silent, looking up at the sky expressionlessly, their eyes hollow. Then rain began to fall, a cold drizzle that soaked everyone, chilling to the bone.

Suddenly...

The scene shattered like a broken mirror, scattering with a crash, and all the people dissolved in the cold rain.

The rain grew heavier, and darkness enveloped the land.

Gone was the ancient city, gone were his loved ones, and Alavin found himself standing alone on a vast, blood-soaked battlefield. Endless beings clashed in frenzied combat, their battle cries thunderous. Mysterious beasts roared amidst blood and fire.

A cataclysm of heaven-sent flames and gales engulfed the world.

The earth crumbled, and the sky collapsed as if the apocalypse had come. Amidst this chaos, a bright crimson streak slashed through the darkness, cleaving the inferno, shining like the sun. The crimson light pierced the battlefield, spreading a fearsome aura of death, causing all creatures to wail in fear.

Alavin staggered across the battlefield as if chasing that peerless, tyrannical streak of light. Suddenly, the light halted and locked onto Alavin from afar. An endless aura of slaughter boiled up and enveloped him.

Alavin jolted awake with a start.

It was a dream! A nightmare!

Sweat-soaked and sobered, he gasped for air, struggling to swallow. Why did he have such a dream?

It had been years since he'd last dreamt.

Wiping away the sweat and feeling parched, Alavin rose with a pounding head and went to the courtyard to fetch some water.

In the chilly courtyard, the old man sat under an ancient tree, flipping a dark, sinister-looking dagger in his hand. It was forged from an unknown material; it looked like black iron or dark stone and emanated a chilling aura.

"What?" Alavin, intrigued by the black dagger, shook his head vigorously, half-believing he was still dreaming.