The grand central hall of the unfinished castle stretched wide and majestic, its high vaulted ceiling still open to the sky in places where construction continued. White and gold stone gleamed under the afternoon light streaming through tall arched windows. The air carried the faint scent of fresh mortar and polished marble. It was a space built for giants — or for something far greater.
Indura stood at the center with his hands clasped casually behind his back, head held high in a noble posture. His crimson hair caught the light, and his golden eyes scanned the three figures before him with calm assessment. He said nothing at first, simply observing.
The one who had spoken stepped forward. Tall, regal, with flowing white hair and four glowing wings folded neatly behind his divine armor, Juriel radiated an aura of heavenly authority tempered by careful politeness.
"It is a pleasure to finally meet the Red Dragon at last," Juriel said, his voice smooth and melodic, like distant bells carried on wind. "I am Juriel, a warrior of the Sky Palace. These are my companions — Noriel and Duriel."
Noriel gave a small, silent nod, his expression stoic. Duriel remained almost completely still, offering only the faintest bow of acknowledgment.
Indura tilted his head slightly, one hand rising to rest on his chin as he studied them. He didn't reply immediately.
Juriel continued, undeterred, his tone reasonable and measured. "We have observed you for some time now, Red Dragon. Your actions in this lower realm have not gone unnoticed. You dismantled an evil operation in the Great Forest. You faced a divine enforcer and emerged victorious. Such deeds are… rare among mortals."
Indura yawned softly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, but his eyes remained sharp. They talk too much already. But… interesting.
He kept his hands behind his back again and waited.
Juriel smiled faintly, as if he had expected the lack of response. "Tell me, if I may ask — what do you think of life here on Varta? This lower realm must feel rather small to one such as yourself."
Indura considered the question for a moment, his posture relaxed yet noble. "It's loud," he said simply, voice calm but serious. "Noisy. Full of small creatures fighting over small things. But it has its… moments."
Juriel nodded thoughtfully, as though the answer pleased him. "A fair assessment. Many who descend from higher planes feel the same. Yet you have chosen to remain here. You even allow these mortals to build you a castle." He gestured gracefully at the grand hall around them. "Why is that, if I may ask?"
Indura's hand returned to his chin, fingers tapping lightly. He's probing. Carefully. "Because it amuses me," he replied casually. "And because my mountain was destroyed. A replacement seemed fair."
Juriel's smile widened just a fraction. "Practical. And honest. I appreciate that." He took one slow step closer, wings shifting slightly. "You know, we already know quite a bit about your origin. You were the dragon egg that developed its own will and… slipped away. A rather remarkable event, even by our standards."
Indura's golden eyes narrowed slightly. The words stirred something distant in his memory — Gundr's voice from long ago, mocking him about being "the egg that slipped away." He didn't show it outwardly, but inside, curiosity flickered.
Slipped away…? He kept his expression neutral, head still held high. "And what exactly does that mean to you?"
Juriel spread his hands in a reasonable gesture. "It means you are unique, even among your kind. Most dragon eggs are guided. Yours was not. You chose your own path. That kind of independence is… valuable."
Noriel finally spoke, his voice low and brief. "Rare."
Duriel remained silent, watching with quiet intensity.
Indura yawned again, this time more openly, but his eyes never left Juriel. They're trying to flatter me. It's working a little.
Juriel continued smoothly, as if the yawn hadn't happened. "Which brings me to the reason we are here. Have you ever wondered about Chaos? The true heart of the Middle Realm?"
Indura's hand returned to his chin. He found himself genuinely intrigued now. "I've heard the name. From someone I killed." He paused. "What's so special about it?"
Juriel's eyes lit with quiet satisfaction. He had hooked the dragon's curiosity.
"Chaos is not like Varta," he explained, voice rich and measured. "It is far wider, far vaster. A single continent there could swallow this entire lower realm. The mana is denser, wilder, more alive. It does not flow like rivers here — it surges like oceans in storm. Time itself bends there. What takes decades here can pass in mere days."
He took another slow step, wings glowing faintly. "The skies of Chaos are red, not blue. Crimson storms rage across endless horizons. Species you have never seen thrive there — ancient beings of pure mana, towering crystal forests that sing, cities built on floating islands that move with the wind. It is a place where power is not borrowed. It is born."
Indura listened quietly, head slightly tilted. Red skies… The image stirred something deep inside him. For the first time in a long while, he felt a genuine pull of curiosity. I haven't really thought about it since Gundr mentioned it. What would it actually look like?
Juriel seemed to sense the shift and pressed gently. "There are a few dragons like you in Chaos. Not many. Three great colored dragons currently rule over certain regions. They are powerful, but none possess a scale like you. None carry the potential you do."
Indura's golden eyes sharpened. "Three dragons ruling regions…"
"Yes," Juriel said reasonably. "They maintain order in their territories. But imagine what someone with your strength could accomplish. You could claim far more than a single region."
He let the words hang for a moment before continuing, tone still calm and persuasive.
"Varta is small, but it is rich with potential. With your power, you could rule it entirely. Picture it, Red Dragon — no more pointless wars tearing the land apart. The mana wellspring beneath the old battlefield would answer only to you. Every race — humans, elves, dwarves — would bend to your will, not out of fear, but out of awe. You could reshape their kingdoms into something greater. Grand halls built in your honor, feasts laid out every night, entire cities designed to please a dragon's taste. The noise you hate would become music played only when you wished it. The small creatures who once annoyed you would serve you willingly, grateful for the order you bring."
Juriel's voice grew warmer, painting the picture with vivid strokes. "You would sit upon a throne carved from the very bones of this world. No longer drifting alone, no longer bored. You would have purpose — true purpose. Armies at your command, knowledge from the Sky Palace at your fingertips, protection that even the heavens would envy. And if any dared challenge you… well, we both know how that ends."
He's painting it so clearly, Indura thought, hand still on his chin. Ruling Varta… making them all bend… no more noise unless I allow it. He yawned again, but this time it was half-hearted. The idea was starting to settle in his mind, strangely appealing. It does sound… interesting.
Juriel watched him closely, a faint internal smile forming behind his composed exterior.
This is going far easier than expected, he thought. The dragon is listening. Actually listening. A few more well-placed images and he may even lean toward us.
He continued smoothly, never pushing too hard. "Join us, and the Sky Palace would offer more than mere protection. We would share ancient knowledge — techniques to awaken your cores faster, maps of realms you have never seen, even the secrets of the wellspring itself. You would no longer be a lone dragon wandering a tiny world. You would be a sovereign, backed by the heavens themselves. Think of it… a red dragon ruling Varta with divine blessing. The other colored dragons in Chaos would look upon you with respect. Perhaps even envy."
Noriel spoke once, quietly. "A wise alliance."
Duriel simply nodded.
Indura stood with his hands behind his back, head held high, listening. He could feel the subtle pressure behind Juriel's words — the careful flattery, the logical appeal, the promise of purpose.
They're good at this, he thought. Almost convincing.
Juriel smiled warmly. "We are not here to threaten you. We are here to offer opportunity. Think about it. A dragon of your caliber deserves more than hiding in unfinished castles and eating stolen sweets from market stalls."
Indura let out a short, casual laugh, but his expression remained serious. "You've been watching closely."
"We observe what matters," Juriel replied smoothly. "By the way… why did you wipe out the dwarves? They were rather persistent, weren't they?"
Indura shrugged, hands still behind his back. "They threatened me. Tried to harvest me like some resource. I didn't appreciate it."
Juriel clapped his hands together once, the sound echoing beautifully in the grand hall. "Well done! A perfect response. You acted as any true sovereign should — swift, decisive, without hesitation. I congratulate you. Most beings would have hesitated. You did not."
The praise landed cleanly, feeding Indura's ego just enough to be noticeable but not obvious.
Indura's lips twitched into a faint smirk. He found the entire conversation both tedious and strangely compelling.
Juriel continued talking, painting even more vivid pictures of what ruling Varta could look like under Indura's command — grand processions in his name, entire forests reshaped for his comfort, the mana wellspring tamed and channeled into eternal feasts and wonders. His voice remained reasonable the entire time, never pushing too hard, always leaving space for Indura to consider.
Indura listened, occasionally yawning or shifting his posture, but his mind was turning faster now.
Chaos… red skies… three dragons ruling regions… ruling Varta…
For the first time in centuries, the idea of having an actual purpose didn't sound completely ridiculous.
Juriel finally fell quiet, watching Indura with patient, divine calm.
Indura looked again at the three faces, studying each one carefully, trying to piece together something unspoken. He raised a single finger.
"Everything you've said… is very good," he said, voice calm but serious. "Very wonderful. Very tempting." He paused, hand still raised. "It's just that something has been bothering me for a while."
Juriel tilted his head with polite curiosity. "And what could possibly bother a being such as yourself?"
Indura looked up toward the open section of the ceiling, golden eyes distant. "My mountain was destroyed. Its scale was far too vast for mere humans to achieve. Until someone mentioned light falling from the sky…"
Juriel's expression remained composed, but a flicker of caution passed through his eyes. "What do you mean?"
Indura lowered his gaze, locking onto Juriel. "Was it the Sky Palace that destroyed my mountain?"
For a brief moment, Juriel replied casually, almost dismissively. "You don't have to worry anymore about your mountain. With our help, you could obtain any mountain you desire — even greater ones."
The words hung in the air.
Juriel froze internally. That was careless. I don't even know which mountain he means. He quickly tried to recover, opening his mouth to smooth it over.
Indura raised a hand, stopping him. Then he laughed — low, genuine, and carrying an edge that hadn't been there before.
"I understand now," Indura said, still chuckling. "You must have known I had been living on that mountain for a very long time."
Juriel felt a slow wave of panic rise. No...It's a misunderstanding. This is going wrong. He tried to shift the atmosphere. "Red Dragon, please allow me to clarify—"
Indura's expression had changed. The casual nobility was still there, but something sharper lurked beneath it now.
The hall grew deathly quiet.
Indura sighed softly, hands still clasped behind his back. "When I fought Gundr, one of your kind… before he died, I told him I would ascend to the Sky Palace one day and pay you all a visit."
Juriel tensed visibly. Noriel and Duriel both stiffened, their wings flaring slightly.
Indura smirked, golden eyes gleaming. "I will think about your offer. But before that… you should at least bear my strikes for what your Sky Palace took away from me."
Juriel gritted his teeth, confusion and alarm flashing across his usually composed face. "There must be a misunderstanding. The Sky Palace did not—"
He stopped mid-sentence, realizing too late that his denial had indirectly confirmed interference.
Indura's smirk widened, dangerous and calm at the same time.
"We should take this outside."
The hall grew deathly quiet.
Juriel raised both hands in a placating gesture, his voice smooth and urgent. "There is a big misunderstanding here. Please, give me a chance to explain."
Indura sighed softly, one hand resting on his chin. "What exactly is the misunderstanding?"
"Thank you," Juriel said, visibly relieved. "The Sky Palace is vast beyond imagination. Its power can reshape environments, alter landscapes, even shift the flow of mana across realms. But for one of our attacks to land directly on Varta — straight onto your mountain — that simply couldn't be right. If we had known a red dragon of your caliber resided there, we would have descended personally. Openly."
This has to be convincing, Juriel thought desperately. I cannot fail now. Not when things were going so smoothly.
Indura touched his chin again, listening.
Juriel continued, tone still reasonable. "We have no reason to destroy what could be an ally. Our goal has always been balance and order."
Indura finally spoke, voice calm. "Is it true that divine beings don't like my kind? That because of our power, we are used as dogs of the Divine Order?"
Juriel tensed visibly. How…? How did he learn of this?
Indura continued without waiting for an answer. "Someone told me that sky warriors would appear in my castle one day. That they would try to recruit me… and later use my power for their own benefits."
All three warriors tensed at once. Juriel's mind raced. Impossible. He wasn't wrong… but how did he know? We were so careful. We planned to bind him slowly to the Sky Palace's will. Who told him?
On a hilltop far from the castle, Ostrid and Astrath lay relaxed under the sun.
Ostrid suddenly laughed. "It's finally about to begin. Convincing him now would be pointless."
Astrath flicked an ear. "We picked the best seats to watch the whole thing."
They both chuckled together, eyes gleaming with ancient amusement.
Back inside the castle, the tension thickened like storm clouds.
Indura asked quietly, "Am I right about the Sky Palace coming for me?"
Juriel gritted his teeth, then sighed. There's nothing we can do right now. We don't need to kill him — just seize him. But with his power… it won't be easy. I don't even know how much he's grown.
He forced a smile and laughed lightly, trying to regain control. "It's all pointless now. I wished you would have taken the offer while you still had the chance."
Indura laughed as well — low and unbothered. "It's true. I've been bored for a while. Why settle for peace and miss out on fun like this?" He tilted his head. "But we should take this outside the castle."
Juriel stopped laughing. His aura exploded outward in a wild burst — so powerful that the entire castle shuddered violently. Stone cracked. The grand hall began to collapse as shockwaves ripped through marble and gold. Nearby workers were thrown off their feet like ants, screaming as the wind turned aggressive and violent.
All three warriors transformed instantly. Their noble clothing burned away, replaced by shining silver-and-gold armor that radiated brilliant light. Weapons materialized in their hands — divine blades humming with heavenly power.
Juriel looked ahead, eyes wide. Indura was no longer there.
He snapped his gaze upward.
Indura had already appeared high above the crumbling castle, hovering calmly with his back to the afternoon sun. The wind blew through his crimson hair as he murmured to himself, "The old man was right… sky warriors really would destroy my castle."
He glanced down at the collapsing structure. I don't feel that bad about it… but it is frustrating. I waited for its construction. Watched the humans build it with careful hands...what am I really doing with my life.
Indura dove while still facing the sky, red energy blazing around him like liquid fire. Scales spread. Wings erupted. Horns lengthened. Legs, tail, and massive body took shape in seconds until a titanic crimson shadow fell across the land.
The people of Vartas saw it from afar — a massive dragon descending upon the remote lands. Tools dropped from numb hands. Faces turned upward in shock and awe.
Indura tilted his body and landed heavily. The impact created a crater that shook the ground for miles, sending tremors through hills and valleys. He rose to his full height, his colossal form blocking out the sunlight over entire stretches of land. Golden eyes locked onto the three warriors now hovering at his eye level.
Juriel smirked through his frustration. "So huge… We may not have to hold back at all."
The four beings faced each other in a tense standoff — three shining divine warriors against one ancient red dragon whose mere presence made the air itself feel heavy.
Indura only smiled in his titanic form, fangs glinting.
The afternoon sky seemed to hold its breath.
"Now then...let us begin."