Lyria’s cold voice broke the silence. "My Lord... is something wrong?"
Handel added quickly, sensing the shift, "You look... shaken."
Kael turned toward them slowly, but before he could speak, a deafening BOOOOM roared through the chamber.
The floor cracked and the walls were split apart.
Ice shattered like broken glass, and a huge cave opened up in front of the group.
Gasps and shrieks echoed as everyone turned their heads toward the new space. Cold air blasted into them, sharp like knives, making many stumble or scream. Some men froze in place—literally. Their skin turned pale, their limbs stiff. They collapsed, twitching, then stilled.
Inside the huge space, a sight of pure terror stood.
A colossal draconic carcass lay coiled around a frozen mountain of treasure—glimmering coins, weapons, crystals, and more. Its horns twisted toward the roof, its wings folded like broken sails, its jaw half-open in death. A long beard of icicles hung from its chin.
The dead body of the Ice Dragon Viserion.
Kael’s eyes widened with madness.
So much gold..It was damn fucking treasury piled up here.
His lips curled into a grin.
"Oh...oh this is insane," he mumbled, almost laughing. On top of gold what laid was a beautiful fucking corpse worth more than any treasure.
The other member of the serpent fang eyed the gold greedily sucking in cold air.
Seeing them jumping like monkeys, Kael clicked his tongue and asked Handel.
"Why the hell didn’t find out about this?"
Knowing Kael was cursing Grant and people of the Duchy in charge of this, Handel tried to pacify,"Maybe they did and were silenced.
"Huh!That makes sense."Kael nodded and looked ahead.
For some reason, he felt uneasy.
Dragons were greedy and didn’t leave things like that to be swallowed up by others.There ought to be traps around but they weren’t encountered.
This made him suspicious.
Bishop Polly stepped forward with shining eyes. His staff slammed into the ground.
"Stand firm!" he shouted.
"Don’t be greedy for riches.Look at the value of worldly items."
"And this corpse is not a curse! This is a blessing!"
His voice echoed all around. The devotees turned toward him, some still shaking in fear.
Polly’s voice rose with feverish joy, "The beast is dead, and the treasure is ours!"
"The dragon’s soul sleeps! And tonight, we will use that very soul to bring forth our Lord!"
He raised his hands high. "Circle around! Prepare the markings!"
All the cloaked figures began to move at once.
Some pulled red chalks and salts, drawing symbols in circles.While others pulled pieces of flesh and blood.
Others placed totems and strange jars filled with dark smoke.
Torches were lit around the dragon’s body.
Kael stood still, watching it all unfold, licking his lips.
"Oh, they’re really going to do it," he said with a giggle. "They’re actually trying to swallow a dragon’s soul."
"Madness..." Handel muttered under his breath.
"No," Kael whispered with a shiver of excitement. "This is delicious."
Polly’s eyes glowed as he stood at the center of the circle.
He screamed, voice trembling with power, "It is time! Begin the Rite!"
"The Ritual of the Python Swallowing the Dragon!"
The chants began at once.
The air grew heavier.
Dark mist started rising from the totems.
The dragon’s body pulsed faintly, as if reacting.
Kael threw his head back and laughed, arms spread wide.
"Eat it! Devour it! Let the gods bleed!"
His voice was drowned in the rising screams, chants, and howls of the dark ritual beginning in the icy grave of a dragon.
A blinding flash of light erupted.
He stood tall in the center of the ritual circle, his staff firmly planted into the frozen ground. The ice beneath him had been carved into symbols—dark runes and serpent shapes drawn with crimson salt, blackened ash, and beast blood.
Torches lined the wide, round chamber, their blue flames flickering in the freezing air. The dead dragon lay silently at the heart of the circle, its immense size barely fitting within the vast cavern.
Polly raised both arms, his voice louder and more twisted than before.
"O dead guardian of the frost skies... may your soul be devoured!"
"By the will of the Abyss, and the hunger of the Eternal Python—accept this offering!"
The cloaked devotees around him followed, chanting in a maddening rhythm.
"Hail the Lord of the Abyss!"
"Consume the dragon! Swallow the flame of pride!"
As the ritual went on, thick black mist rose from the carved runes and began to spiral toward the carcass of Viserion. The air thinned. Whispers filled the chamber—words that didn’t belong in any tongue spoken by mortals. Something wrong crept through the chamber. The torches flickered erratically. Some blew out.
Handel watched it all with narrowed eyes, calculating the next move.
He leaned closer to Kael and asked under his breath, "My Lord... what are we doing next? Are we joining this madness... or ending it?"
Beside them, Lyria’s cold, expressionless face turned to Kael as well. Her lips parted slightly. "Your orders, Master?"
But Kael wasn’t listening.
He was staring ahead, eyes wide, his breathing shallow. His mouth opened slightly, and in a low, trembling voice, he muttered:
"...It’s not over..."
Handel frowned. "What did you say?"
Kael’s expression turned deadly serious and he sucked in cold air. "It’s not... dead..."
And then it happened.
A shattering roar exploded through the cavern like a thunderstorm cracking the sky open. It wasn’t just loud—it shook the soul.
The eyes of the dead dragon—those hollow, frost-covered eyes—lit up with a bright blue glow. The light flashed outward like a shockwave.
The ritual symbols exploded.
Dark energy reversed violently, blasting outward. Devotees screamed as they were thrown through the air, smashing against walls, crushed under falling ice. Blood splattered on white frost.
Some simply burst into dust, erased by the force.
The circle was broken.
The totems shattered.
Bishop Polly fell to his knees, eyes wide in horror.
"No... No! This isn’t how—!"
Another deafening roar echoed, this one darker, deeper, colder.
The great corpse began to move.
First, its massive claws twitched.
Then its wings lifted like breaking iron gates.
Its tail curled slowly, cracking the frozen ground.
The Ice Dragon Viserion, once dead, now stood on trembling, frost-covered legs, its scales glowing faint blue, steam rising from every joint.
Its breath came out like a blizzard—cold enough to kill.
Kael stared up at the beast, still frozen in place.
A twisted, crazed grin spread across his face as it spat a thick layer of most.
Lyria stepped back. Even she looked unsettled.
Handel’s mouth hung open, the blood drained from his face.
"Oh gods... it’s alive."
"No..." Kael whispered with delight.