Start of Arc 4!
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Character Sheet
Name: Artorius Pendrath
Titles: None
Archetype: Leader[Awakened] – lvl 40
Race: True-Blood Dragonmen(Homo Draconis)[G-hatchling] – lvl 40
Class: Storybook Squire(House Pendragon)[Tier 0] – lvl 40
Health: 500/520 | Stamina: 450/480 | Mana: 510/540
Stats
Strength - 42+5+5→52
Dexterity - 39+5+1+2→47
Constitution - 42+5+5→52
Intellect - 43+11→54
Willpower - 45+11+5→61
Perception - 27+5+1+2→35
Charisma - 72+11+5+5→93
Luck - 36+5+5+5→51
Trait: Commander, Stoic, Ambitious, Strategic, Mentor
Skills: Heroic Blow, Last Stand, Training Regimen, Copy-Cat, Underdog
Mutation: Draconic Adaptation, Draconic Communion, Draconic Empowerment, Draconic Eye, Draconic Companionship
Laws: Chance(Seed)
Technique: None
Words of Power: Flame(Song), Crystal(Song), Light(Song), Force(Song)
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Looking at how far Artorius had come he had to say he had come far. The difference was really night and day. Most of his recent stat gains were from level ups but he also did gain one Dex and one Per from training. He also gained a further two from devouring the Sword and Kinetic dragon hearts. Besides that he had no abilities, a new word of power, and his Law.
He remembered when he first arrived here in the Dragon Nest his stats barely above or in the single digits. Survival back then had been about caution, fear, and a whole lot of luck. He was in truth a weakling back then. Now, standing atop the skull of a dead Dragon Emperor, he commanded an army large enough to redraw the balance of power inside the Nest.
It had been months since the dragonfall. It has been months since reached the heart of the dragon emperor and in which he came out on top. The Dragon Emperor's corpse had torn a crater through multiple biomes when it landed, collapsing territory lines that had existed for centuries.
When Artorius emerged as the one left standing at the heart of that chaos, the power vacuum had been immediate and violent. Lesser dragons scrambled to claim territory. Survivors of fallen royal domains fought among themselves. Others fled.
Artorius did none of that. He claimed the corpse.
The skull alone was massive enough to function as a fortress-city. Its cracked cranium had been hollowed out and reinforced, forming a layered citadel of bone, marrow, and reinforced scale. The upper ridges served as watchtowers and landing platforms, while the interior chambers had been carved into command halls, storage vaults, and barracks. The eye sockets each were large enough to house a keep, were now observation decks and artillery nests laid.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/646196246568600132/
The rest of the Emperor's remains sprawled outward for miles. Rib bones jutted from the ground like siege walls. Vertebrae formed natural choke points. Hardened sinew created bridges and trenches that no lesser force could cross without permission. What had once been a corpse had become a fortress biome.
And it was his. Artorius stood at the crown of the skull, wings folded, gaze fixed on the plains below. Thousands of dragons moved in disciplined formations across territory that had once been fractured and lawless. Scales of every color reflected the dim light of the Nest's artificial sky. Wingbeats rolled like distant thunder.
This was no loose gathering of followers. It was an army.
Months of consolidation had followed his victory. Any dragon that had once served the fallen royal dragons or had survived independently in the biome had been given two choices: swear loyalty or be destroyed. Artorius hadn't negotiated beyond that. He didn't need to.
The names still lingered in everyone's mind, not as threats, but as trues of who he had taken down. Sword. Atomic. Cyber. Gem. Fragrance. Sound. Storm. Kinetic. Mirror. Death. Phantasmal. Sand. Shadow. Infernal. Thermal. Moon. Mineral.
Once kings and queens of their own territories. Great rulers who had fallen in this biome. Now all their forces including the royal dragons that he spared their lives had their forces subordinated under him, either willingly or forcibly and folded into a single command structure.
Artorius hadn't simply absorbed their forces, he had dismantled their old hierarchies entirely. No lingering loyalty to dead kings and queens. No fractured command chains. Every dragon, from Uncommon to Elder, answered through a clearly defined system.
His first decision after stabilizing command had not been defensive. It had been aggressive. The surrounding biomes had been left wide open after the royal dragons fell. Their defenses were gone, their rulers dead, and their treasure vaults untouched. Artorius had no intention of letting that opportunity slip by.
He ordered immediate raids. None of those probing strikes or scouting missions but full-scale looting operations. Royal dragon hoards were not just collections of wealth, they were strategic stockpiles. Artifacts, countless scales, enchanted weapons, rare materials, dormant constructs, and vaults of stored mana. Leaving those intact would have been suicidal. Any imperial dragon passing through could have claimed them and used them against him later.
So Artorius stripped them bare. Sky, Ocean, Psychic, Twilight, and Dawn dragons, who now served him had assisted in the raids, leading the forces into their former territories and the biomes of fallen rivals. Noble dragon biomes that stood in the way were crushed as collateral damage.
There was no mercy. Anything of value was seized. Anything immobile was destroyed. Anything that could be used against him was rendered unusable. Any dragon foolish enough to be still guarding their dead masters home was captured.
By the time his forces withdrew, those biomes were rendered as close to dead zones as they could be. They scorched the earth, emptied vaults, broken infrastructure, even dungeon entrances were collapsed where possible, denying access.
He had wished he had time to do those dungeons in other biomes and their trials to get more levels, stats, and treasures from them but he was on the clock. The only trial he went through was the Emperor trial located here which gave him 5 luck stats.
Anyways Artorius knew he needed those looted resources immediately. If he was going to stand against the other imperial dragons he needed every advantage he could get.
Once the raids were complete, Artorius ordered a full withdrawal back to the Dragon Emperor's corpse. Holding that much territory with a single force as many as it was impossible. Spreading out would have invited encirclement and attrition. Instead, he turned the corpse into a fortress-state.
Loot was cataloged and redistributed. Dragons were paid promptly and generously. Loyalty was rewarded with resources, territory access, and promotion. Disloyalty was met with execution public and immediate.
Warehouses filled quickly. Armories overflowed. Smithing forges burned day and night, reforging captured materials into standardized weapons and armor. Alchemical labs churned out enhancement draughts, toxins, and combat stimulants. Psychic relay nodes were installed throughout the skull, allowing near-instant communication across the entire force.
The other imperial dragons took their time to begin striking at him. That alone told Artorius everything he needed to know. They did not rush him nor were they reckless. They were the oldest, wisest, most powerful creatures in the nest and they were used to having their way.
Even though he had a great and powerful army now, the imperial dragons outnumbered him. The only saving grace that prevented his immediate destruction was that they were not working together at all. Some have yet to even show themselves as well.
It was the same flaw that had always plagued the royal dragons before, they did not cooperate. Each imperial dragon viewed the others as rivals first and threats second. None of them trusted one another enough to commit to a joint campaign.
They were able to hold the line thanks to getting attacked by different imperial dragons probing his outer territories, sending raiding forces, or testing the strength of his patrols. Artorius met it head-on. He did not hold back. He couldn't afford to. This was not a campaign where restraint earned respect. This was survival pure and simple.
The orders the imperial dragons received from their parents was obvious, to put him down for good. Thus putting a stop to the machinations of the old scheming dragon.
Every engagement was fought with lethal intent, every counterattack meant to be costly enough that the attacker would think twice before returning. And he was their greatest weapon. Already his charisma was close to 100. This was his key stat at this amount, it was no longer just influence…it was dominance.
Weak-willed dragons didn't merely listen to him; they fell in line perfectly to him. Orders delivered through his voice carried weight that bypassed hesitation and fear. Hundreds of lesser dragons could be compelled into action without hesitation, their resistance collapsing under the sheer pressure of his presence.
Beyond that, he had other advantages. Abilities that allowed him to exceed his limits temporarily. Buffs that pushed his strength, endurance, and reaction time well past what his base stats should allow. He used them aggressively, entering battles personally when an imperial strike threatened to break a line or decapitate command.
The message was deliberate to all. He was not a distant ruler hiding behind his soldiers. He was ever present and he was dangerous.
Between constant skirmishes and siege attempts from the imperial dragons, Artorius focused on what he could control, organization and training.
Every day, units were rotated through drills. Formation changes. Response simulations. Anti-engagement tactics. Dragons were trained to fight opponents stronger than themselves, using coordination, terrain, and overwhelming force rather than brute strength.
He stood often at the command platforms overlooking the training grounds, watching thousands of dragons move as one. He watched as dragons shifted into formation, their wings beating rhythmically, shaking the ground with each powerful stroke.
The sky above shimmered as aerial forces assumed patrol patterns, while sea and river dragons moved into coastal positions. On land, dragons of twilight and dawn hues patrolled borders and strategic passes, maintaining the integrity of the kingdom and in the shadow stood the Psychic dragon relaying information, spying on the enemies and counteracting them.
His army was the single largest that the Dragon Nest had seen in decades. Twenty-five thousand dragons, organized with precision. And unlike the loose, personality-driven forces of most dragon domains, this army was standardized. He went above and beyond as his regular soldiers were only made up of elite dragons and above.
Uncommon dragons formed the bulk of the troops, maintaining discipline and readiness like it was instinct. Champion blooded dragons led squads of ten, their orders echoing across the battlefield. They were not only responsible for combat effectiveness of their squads but morale and cohesion.
Elder blooded dragons commanded company units of a hundred, coordinating tactical maneuvers and leading personal raids. Noble dragons led battalion-sized units of a thousand, acting as regional commanders within the broader formation.
Finally royal dragons he had hoped to lead ten thousand soldiers but for now they led brigades. Ocean and Sky dragons held command of the combined aerial and naval forces, a regiment he had to divide into two each of 5,000 strong. They were capable of striking across sea and air.
Then there were his other brigades of 10,000 which were led by the Psychic, Twilight, and Dawn dragons. This was their landbound army. Finally there was the Honor Guards, the best of the best which were also landbound that answered to him only. This army wasn't a horde. It was a machine.
Then there were the common dragons who were in the auxiliary positions. They where a further additional 10,000 that did the critical administrative work. Ten auxiliary positions were assigned to oversee support functions. Squires handled tactical assistance during battles. Crafters and smiths repaired and forged weapons and siege equipment, engineers handled making defenses and fixing infrastructure, while cooks and animal herders maintained logistics for the army.
Healers maintained the wounded, clerks handled the mountain load of documents that needed to be filled out, and scouts and gatherers mapped the land and reported enemy movements. Alchemists worked tirelessly on enhancements and poisons. Each auxiliary was essential; no function was left unaccounted for.
Besides his own forces, there had been the only imperial to side with him. Until now Artorius did not know his goal but the aid was appreciated. The Star Dragon had brought nearly all his soldiers which did not number a lot only 5,000!
Or maybe it was just how many soldiers he had been able to snatch up in this biome in one fell swoop which put his perspective out of whack. Star dragons didn't fight wars the way others did. They mostly kept watch.
From distant perches carved into floating fragments of bone and crystal, the Star Dragon's forces monitored movement across the entire biome. Their perception extended beyond line of sight; tracking energy signatures, mass displacement, and star misalignments. Several imperial probing attacks had been intercepted not because scouts spotted them, but because the Star Dragon's units predicted where they would emerge.
That alone had saved thousands of lives. And what made them very dangerous was how they went on the offence. Instead of fighting up close in person they preferred orbital bombardments raining down meteors, starburst, and other stellar materials.
"Report," Artorius commanded, his voice cutting through the low hum of dragon wings outside.
A familiar paper dragoness stood besides him, talons scraping against the bone floor. "All territories secured. Minor resistance in the north four days ago has been neutralized. Supplies are in place, and the training grounds are operational. Morale is high."
Artorius finally looked up and she held his gaze without flinching. After the royal dragons more or less killed each other with his help of course, there were a lot of noble dragons who had suddenly found themselves leaderless. The paper dragoness had been one of them.
She bowed her head when she saw where the winds were blowing and now she was indispensable and served as his secretary. Artorius nodded. "Good. Maintain patrols. I want no surprises. Rotate units every six hours. No gaps, no exceptions. Any dragon who deviates from orders gets corrected immediately."
"Yes, Commander," the dragoness replied, bowing. She didn't call him king. Or lord. Or emperor.
Many had tried giving him more grandeur names. He'd shut that down fast and decided to keep it simple. He did not want to put on some airs, his position was clear, he was their Warmaster. His authority didn't come from ceremony. It came from results. He would either lead them to victory or die with them. Anything more elaborate was pointless.
Artorius looked out toward the horizon. His thoughts were already moving to what to do next. He wasn't merely content with consolidating power here and getting attacked endlessly; he intended to improve efficiency, train his forces, and prepare for an inevitable counterattack. They were in a stalemate so far and it only took one thing for everything to tip for the worse for them.
Artorius moved to the edge of the skull, eyes scanning the gathered dragons below. He must say he was proud of what he built here. He built his army into something unstoppable, something that no rival could challenge without devastating loss. And when the inevitable challenges came, he would meet them not just with power, but with precision and planning. He really had come far and now was almost at the finish line.
'Don't be too comfortable until victory is assured!' A voice spoke in his head. One he knew intimacy by now, Zytherion, the dead Dragon Emperor they now made their home.
"I'm aware," Artorius replied silently.
Zytherion chuckled. 'Good. Complacency kills faster than claws.' The old dragon had been… cooperative. Unsettlingly so.
Zytherion didn't object to what Artorius was doing with his corpse. Fortifications carved into bone. Organs harvested for rare materials. Veins turned into supply tunnels. He even helped; pointing out structural weak points, hidden chambers, and caches of crystallized blood and ancient artifacts embedded deep within the remains.
He didn't trust Zytherion. He never would. But ignoring useful information would be stupidity, and Artorius couldn't afford that. Still Artorius had no idea what he was up to or more like he did but did not want to voice it.
He walked through the citadel, the hollow eye sockets of the skull glowing faintly from the fire pits below. Dragons of all sizes observed him respectfully. Some whispered among themselves, marveling at the young commander who had claimed the greatest corpse in their history. Others were silent, wary, noting the tactical awareness and ruthlessness he displayed.
Patrols had to be continued, new defences needed to be raised, supplies needed to be secured. Artorius didn't sleep most nights; he spent the hours studying maps, strategizing, and reviewing the roster of dragons under his command. Every decision, every placement of a dragon or allocation of treasure, mattered.
Coming to the area he liked to come to ease his mind, this training ground was alive with motion. Hundreds of dragons moved in coordinated formations, their actions sharp, deliberate, and disciplined. This place was his greatest accomplishment.
Artorius stood at the edge of the elevated observation platform observing. "Rotate squads," he ordered calmly. The command carried across the field without him raising his voice. The young recruits hurried to follow his command with eager zeal.
These were his squires. Looking at the center of the grounds there stood a group of nearly four hundred dragons that had unlocked his class.
The Squire class did not look like the most glamorous class at first. You were basically a student, a trainee, an aid, a follower.
Artorius had spent months breaking the class down piece by piece. He'd documented triggers, requirements, failure conditions. He'd worked with Psychic dragons to monitor mental states during training. He'd used alchemists to test out stimulants and tried different magic items on them to see if it would help.
He did not get the results to unlock them down to a science but he had made progress and came to certain understandings.
A dragon seeking to unlock the Squire class had to meet specific conditions. They had to submit to structured training. Follow orders consistently. Show improvement through effort. Protect allies during drills instead of prioritizing personal success. Be someone of good standing that others think well of you. Swear oaths to a cause, code, or person.
Most failed. Some quit. A few pushed through. Those were the ones who unlocked it. "Hold formation," barked a Champion instructor.
The Squire unit moved as one, shields interlocking, wings folding inward to minimize exposed angles. A group of Elder-ranked dragons unleashed controlled elemental attacks against them; fire, kinetic bursts, compressed sound waves.
The Squires absorbed the impact. Not perfectly. But together. Artorius nodded once. That was the point. He stepped down from the platform and moved closer to the field. As he approached, several dragons noticed him and straightened instinctively. He waved them off.
"Continue," he said. The drills didn't stop.
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Author Note: MC is making a bunch of young dragons who follow his path(class)