The sky slowly stitched itself back together.
Cracked clouds drifted apart, the violent mana currents fading until only cold wind remained. Broken stone fell away beneath his feet, disappearing into the endless white below.
No alarms.
No warnings.
No system announcements.
That absence was louder than the battle itself.
He hovered in the air, wings half-spread, eyes scanning the void where the enforcers had vanished. Not a trace remained—not even residual mana. They hadn't retreated.
They had been erased.
"So that's it," he murmured. "No counterattack."
The dragon core pulsed once, heavy and slow, like a heartbeat echoing through a vast cavern. Power no longer surged wildly. It settled. Integrated.
He descended and landed on a frozen plateau, the ice cracking slightly under his weight. Kneeling, he pressed his palm to the ground and let his senses sink deep.
Nothing followed.
No tracking signal. No hidden observers.
The system had gone quiet.
That was dangerous.
He rose and exhaled, frost forming in the air before him. "If you're watching," he said softly, gaze lifting to the sky, "do better next time."
For a moment, he thought he felt something—amusement, perhaps—but it faded before he could be sure.
He turned and began walking.
Hours passed. Then days.
He crossed frozen forests where monsters avoided him instinctively, beasts flattening themselves against the snow as he passed. In the mountains, ancient creatures stirred in their lairs, sensing something unfamiliar—something beyond hierarchy.
Some fled.
Others watched.
One didn't.
A roar shattered the silence.
The mountain ahead split as a colossal shape emerged—scaled, horned, its body wreathed in blue lightning. A dragon. Older than most. Proud. Territorial.
It spread its wings and roared again, the sound rolling across the peaks.
He stopped.
Slowly, he looked up.
"So you chose violence," he said calmly.
The lightning dragon descended, claws tearing into ice, eyes blazing with challenge.
This wasn't a system fight.
No rules.
No rewards.
Just dominance.
He smiled faintly.
Scales spread across his skin as wings burst free, larger than before, denser, edged with golden light. The air bent around him, pressure radiating outward.
The mountain dragon hesitated.
Just for a moment.
"That pause," he said, lifting into the air, "means you already lost."
The sky exploded with motion as both dragons surged forward, their clash ripping through the clouds, lightning and flame tearing the heavens apart.
Far away, deep beyond the world's edge, the Great White Dragon opened one eye.
The dream was approaching.
And the world was no longer ready for what he was becoming.