"Auremax, what’s going on? What happened?" Ethan asked quickly, concern flashing across his face.
"Master," Auremax replied, his voice low and serious, "while the Gold Dragon patrol was making its rounds, they spotted someone approaching us. And not just anyone—it’s a dragonkin! A Storm Dragon, to be exact. They’re known as the ’Lone Champions,’ an incredibly rare 14th-Tier Mythic Unit. In all these years, this is only the third time I’ve ever seen one..."
His golden eyes flickered with unease as he continued, "I don’t know why they’re here, or whether they’re friend or foe... but they haven’t attacked our patrol lines. They’re just waiting quietly in the outer perimeter."
"Storm Dragons?" Ethan blinked in surprise, then broke into a grin. "Well then, let’s go check it out!"
He had a pretty good idea what this was about. Clearly, this was the ’quest reward’ finally showing up.
"Mm..." Auremax nodded, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Master, be careful. One of them... their power is on par with mine. I’m guessing it’s also a 14th-Tier Mythic Ace Unit."
"Ace Unit?!" Ethan’s eyes widened, and his excitement spiked.
Now that was a hell of a surprise.
He’d been expecting a Storm Dragon95—just a standard high-tier unit.
But this? This was a Storm Dragon94, plus a Storm Dragon1 that was a Mythic Ace Unit. That was a whole different level of value. After all, in many ways, a Mythic Ace Unit was worth dozens—no, hundreds, maybe even thousands—of regular units of the same tier.
"Alright, let’s go see what they want. Auremax, lead the way."
Not long after, Ethan was riding on Auremax’s back as they soared through the skies, descending toward the southern edge of Sylvanwood’s outer boundary.
The landscape below was dominated by a towering, jagged mountain range. The ground was pitch black, with veins of magma faintly glowing beneath layers of dirt and ash. In the distance, massive volcanoes loomed—some dormant and silent, others rumbling with life. The air was thick with the sharp, acrid stench of sulfur.
But what was truly strange...
Was the presence of visible, swirling hurricanes—dozens of them—raging across the terrain, howling with raw elemental fury.
At the mountain’s peak, two forces stood in a tense standoff. On one side, the gleaming Gold Dragons. On the other, a majestic and imposing breed of dragon—massive, snow-white creatures streaked with veins of deep emerald green. Their presence radiated power and nobility.
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As Ethan arrived, the Gold Dragons immediately flew over to him, bowing respectfully.
At the same time, the Storm Dragons—those towering, snow-white beasts laced with green—also turned their attention toward him. Their piercing eyes locked onto Ethan, watching him with a mix of curiosity and caution.
Of course, while they were sizing him up...
Ethan was doing the same.
Their scales gleamed like polished ivory, their heads held high with regal pride. The green markings across their bodies pulsed with energy, and their limbs were thick with muscle, ending in claws that looked sharp enough to tear through steel. The sheer pressure they gave off was overwhelming.
Around their bodies, the air shimmered with magical energy—storms, cyclones, and crackling lightning danced around them, distorting the air and even warping space itself.
They were absolutely terrifying. And absolutely magnificent.
"Those are the Storm Dragons, huh?"
Ethan muttered to himself, eyes narrowing as he took in the sight. "No wonder they’re 14th-Tier Mythic Units... The pressure they give off, the way they look—yeah, they’re impressive. But I wonder what they’re really capable of in a fight?"
To be honest, choosing the Storm Dragons had been a bit of a gamble on his part. He’d trusted Cicero’s judgment, sure—but there was definitely a bit of a lottery-ticket vibe to the decision. Still, one thing was certain:
Any 14th-Tier Mythic Unit wasn’t going to be weak.
The only real difference was what they specialized in—offense, defense, magic, mobility, or something else entirely.
With that thought, Ethan didn’t waste another second. He turned to the Gold Dragon troops nearby and to Auremax beneath him.
"Stay here and wait."
Sensing what Ethan was about to do, Auremax spoke up in a low voice, "Master, perhaps I should go with you?"
Ethan shook his head and stepped forward alone, walking straight toward the Storm Dragon formation. This wasn’t about showing off—it was about what it meant to be a lord. As the ruler of Emerald Castle, he had to carry himself with courage and authority.
First of all, this was Sylvanwood. His territory.
He was the one and only king here.
And that alone meant he had no reason—no right—to show fear or hesitation.
If he backed down now, it would be a stain on his pride he’d never be able to wash off.
Besides, he wasn’t exactly weak himself.
He was already a Level 62 SSS-rank Legendary Hero with an orange-tier class.
What did that mean? It meant that even without his title as a lord, his personal strength alone demanded respect. He had the power, the presence, and the pride of a true champion.
And more importantly, he knew the truth: this whole dramatic entrance, this intimidating display—it was just the system delivering his quest reward.
So really, what was there to be afraid of?
If he flinched now, he’d never be able to look himself in the mirror again.
"I am the Lord of Emerald Castle. The King of Sylvanwood."
"Send someone to speak with me," Ethan said calmly as he approached the Storm Dragons, his tone cool and unshaken, as if he were walking into his own court.
A moment later, one of the Storm Dragons stepped forward. His scales shimmered like frost under moonlight, and his eyes held the weight of centuries.
"Honored Lord," the dragon said in a deep, resonant voice, "I am Vaelric Stormborne, chieftain of the Storm Dragons you see before you. It is a great honor to meet you here."
A deep, thunderous voice echoed through the air.
The ground trembled slightly as a massive figure stepped forward from the Storm Dragon ranks—a dragon so enormous, it dwarfed the others by several times over, maybe even tenfold. Each step it took was deliberate, heavy, and filled with power. The other dragons instinctively parted to make way.
The colossal Storm Dragon slowly approached Ethan, stopping only when it was about thirty feet away.
Ethan’s gaze locked onto him, calm and steady. "Vaelric, can you tell me why you’re here?"
He already had a good idea. This had to be the one Auremax mentioned—the 14th-Tier Mythic Ace Unit. A Storm Dragon whose strength was nearly on par with Auremax himself.
Vaelric lowered his head slightly, his voice deep and resonant, but laced with weariness and restrained fury.
"Honored Lord, we come with no ill intent. If you’re willing to hear our story... then allow me to explain."
"We once lived far out in the ocean, in a hidden sanctuary known only to our kind. But not long ago, that peace was shattered. The Inferno Devils—those damned, cunning monsters—discovered our home."
His voice darkened, and his eyes burned with a quiet rage.
"A brutal war followed. We fought with everything we had... but we lost. Our sanctuary was destroyed, overrun. The Inferno Devils took everything from us."
He paused, the weight of the memory heavy in the air.
"With no other choice, I gathered the survivors and led them away. We’ve been wandering ever since, with no destination, no hope—just trying to survive."
His gaze lifted to meet Ethan’s.
"And that wandering... eventually brought us here."
There was a flicker of exhaustion in his eyes, but also a quiet strength.