A Noble-ranked dragon approached him, scales marked with the insignia of a senior trainer. "Commander," she said, bowing her head slightly. "We've confirmed another twenty-one successful awakenings this week."
Artorius glanced at her. "Any deviations?"
"Minimal," she replied. "Ten cases of partial unlocking. Both lacked consistency during stress phases. We've reassigned them to remedial units."
"Good," he said. "Don't force it. If they're not ready, they're not ready."
"Yes, Commander."
He continued walking, observing other sections of the grounds. Here, squires trained in paired combat, one attacking, one defending, switching roles constantly. There, they practiced battlefield logistics: moving supplies under pressure, evacuating wounded units, maintaining cohesion during simulated retreats.
Further out, Artorius saw a group practicing coordination drills with non-Squire units. This was another crucial component. Squires weren't meant to replace the army, they were meant to support it.
They acted as force multipliers. Messengers who didn't panic under fire. Junior commanders who understood intent, not just orders. Support fighters who could stabilize collapsing lines.
"Gather them around," he ordered to one of the head trainers. Getting right to it, Artorius stepped onto the central platform.
He did not wear ceremonial armor. No crown. No banner. Just reinforced scale-plate, scarred and functional, and the mantle of command that clung to him more tightly than any relic. His wings unfurled slowly, not in threat, but in presence.
Once nearly all the squires were brought before him. He begin to speak, "Today," he said, voice calm, carrying without effort, "you're going to fight me." A ripple passed through the ranks filled with panic, excitement, surprise and expectation.
"I'm not here to spar," Artorius continued. "I'm not here to test your bravery, or your loyalty, or your talent. Those are already proven or you wouldn't be standing here." His gaze swept the formations. As it did, something shifted. The Mentor trait activated. It wasn't visible. It wasn't magical light or system text. It was clarity.
"Go ahead and attack," he called out to them. For a long moment none of them moved so he darted forward. Not fast enough to overwhelm. Not slow enough to allow comfort. Quickly the first squad of squires reacted, surging toward him as one, shields raised, wings folded tight, formation clean. Four hundred dragons watched from the surrounding terraces as the first dozen engaged.
"Good," Artorius called out, "you all know the basics. Never let your foe get the jump on you!" He clashed with them.
They exchanged a few blows and he let his mentor trait help out in pointing out their deficiency and areas that they needed for improvement. A kinetic lance struck from the left. Artorius twisted, catching it on the flat of his forearm, letting the force slide past instead of resisting it.
"You," he said calmly, even as he pivoted. "You're leaning into your power instead of letting it flow. You're exhausting yourself." The motion drake squire staggered as Artorius's sword hooked his ankle and dumped him onto the bone floor.
A fire-breathing wyvern followed up immediately, flame compressed and focused. Artorius stepped into the heat, flesh flaring briefly as he redirected the blast upward with a precise sweep of his wing. "Good control," he said to the fire dragon. "Bad timing. You fired before your ally recovered. You're thinking alone."
He struck with controlled forced knocking the fire dragon down without injury. The formation adjusted. Shields rotated. A sound-based squire unleashed a disorienting pulse meant to stagger him.
Artorius's eyes flicked toward them. "Too narrow," he said, even as he ducked beneath it. "Your cone assumes I'll stay centered. I won't."
He slammed his shoulder into the shield wall, not breaking it but testing it. The line held for a second too long. "That hesitation?" he said, voice cutting through the clash. "That's fear of making the wrong move. You'd already lost momentum."
He disengaged with a wingbeat that sent the squad sliding back several meters. "Reset. Next group."
The second wave came harder. These squires were bolder. Less polished. More aggressive. A shade dragon slipped through shadows, striking for his blind spot. Artorius allowed the hit to land then caught the dragon's wrist mid-swipe.
"You rely on concealment too much," he said, twisting gently but firmly. "When it fails, you freeze." He released the dragon and immediately took a glancing blow to the ribs from a crystal-clad squire.
Artorius nodded once. "Better. You waited. You watched. But your follow-through was weak. Commit or don't strike at all." He countered with a blow that knocked the crystal dragon onto their back, breath knocked loose.
A healer started forward instinctively. Artorius raised one claw. "No."
He looked at the fallen squire. "Get up. You're not incapacitated. You're uncomfortable. Learn the difference." The squire scrambled to their feet, cheeks burning but eyes sharper.
The next hours were a blur of motion as he gave tutelage the old fashion way - at the end of a fist. Artorius moved through them like a storm, ruthless and harsh as he hammered home each mistake. He did not pace through the field. He owned it. But he wasn't doing this to show off. As the hours dragged on, exhaustion crept in for him and the squires but something else rose with it. Growth.
A lightning salamander squire tried to chain strikes rapidly. "You're chasing tempo," Artorius said, sidestepping the third blow. "Control the rhythm. Don't let it control you."
A water serpent squire attempted to bind his feet. "Creative," Artorius said approvingly. "But you anchored yourself to me. If I fall, you fall with me." He demonstrated by dragging his feet back with enough force that the young serpent flew towards him and right into his waiting fist that knocked him out.
He fought through all the squires without going down even once which was a bruise to their ego but they had made progress today. With his Mentor trait and Training Regiment skill they did wonders, these squires were at this point a very deadly force in only a few months.
The Mentor trait worked relentlessly beneath the surface. Each correction didn't just sting but it clicked into place for the squires everything. And the Training Regiment skill amplified it all. Every repetition mattered.
Every bruise translated into incremental stat gains; strength hardening through repeated impacts, stamina stretching under sustained combat, perception sharpening as squires learned to track Artorius's movement even through fatigue. Mana pools stabilized as spellcasters learned restraint instead of waste.
Watching them regroup after each failure, Artorius felt a strange warmth settle in his chest. Pride. Against his better judgment, against the cold calculus of war, he felt it anyway. Like a satisfied master. Like a watchful, overprotective papa bear pretending he didn't care. Finally, Artorius raised one hand.
The field stilled instantly. "That will be all for today," he said.
Despite trembling limbs, scorched scales, and battered pride, every squire snapped to attention. Wings folded. Spines straightened. They bowed as one, talons striking their chests in a unified salute. "Thank you, Master!" they shouted together, voices echoing off bone and sky.
Artorius nodded once. And for just a moment, only a moment he allowed himself to smile.
-
Artorius reached up and unclasped his helm. Cool air brushed sweat-damp hair, carrying with it the distant cries of wyverns circling the upper spires. He was alone in the training hall now that the trainee left.
It was moments like these between the countless activities that filled his days that he could relax. Take a deep breath and take everything in. Letting that moment pass, he brought up what stuck in his mind these last few months.
QUEST: Conquer the Nest
Classification: Dragon Trial
Difficulty: ???
Failure Condition: Death / Loss of Claim
Objective:
• Subdue or Dominate other claimants
• Establish unquestioned Authority across the Nest
Reward:
• New Title: [REDACTED]
• Skill ???
• Item of Power ???
Artorius stared at it for a long time. At what it implied. He lowered his hand, but the quest remained burned into his thoughts. Conquer the Nest. That wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't encouragement. It was a declaration that the System itself now viewed him as a player on the board not a piece.
A thin curl of smoke drifted onto Artorius's shoulder, coiling lazily in the air before resolving into a familiar, serpentine shape no longer than his forearm. Scales the color of burnished white, gold, and pale jade shimmered as tiny horns popped into existence with a soft fwoomp.
Ouroboros yawned widely, showing teeth far too sharp for his size. "I heard you were here."
"Ouroboros," Artorius greeted the small dragon, his oldest companion in the Nest.
"What are you staring off at?" the noodle-like serpent asked with a yawn. He had also been busy like him, everyone was, they were on constant watch, in constant fights, constantly planning. Days have blurred together between all their activities.
"I'm looking at the quest I got," Artorius answered honestly.
"Ahh that. I will be honest, that is very rare and a big one. The System doesn't hand out Quests like candy. Most people go their whole lives without getting one. That means you have some worth in the system's eyes."
"So this system only took notice after I had been through hell here, killed a bunch of dragons, and took over this corpse."
"Yeah, how else did you expect to get its attention?" Ouroboros asked, not seeing anything wrong with what he raised. Ouroboros pressed on, his tone sharpening slightly. "You did what no Imperial dared. You unified through force, not lineage. You erased old hierarchies instead of inheriting them. The Nest has not seen such an upheaval since a very long time."
"And Titles?" Artorius asked with a shake of his head. It was obvious the most bloody and ruthless people drew the system. What did it say that he was one of them?
The small dragon's expression sobered. "Titles aren't rewards," Ouroboros said. "They're declarations. When the System gives you one, it's not just saying what you can do. It's saying what you are."
"Its also offering me something that has to do with my skills and an item of power."
"For the skill it can be a number of things, skill options, slots, upgrade, combo, and so on. You will learn about them more as you go up in ranks & tiers!"
Artorius won't lie he had no idea what the stuff Ouroboros mentioned was, but as he advised he would leave it for later and just find out then. "Then you have an Item of Power," Ouroboros said.
"That is just as rare as the title. We won't know what rank it will be for you until you complete the Quest." Artorius nodded, whatever awaited him at the end of this quest wouldn't just make him stronger. It would define what he was.
Taking in those words before he could respond, a voice spoke in his mind. "The little snake is right. The System does not notice lightly," the dead Dragon Emperor spoke. "It took notice of me only after I had burned my way through three worlds in my youth. And the last was when wanted me to steal that egg."
Artorius paused when he heard and couldn't help explain, "Wait are you telling what led to your death was the System?"
"You could say that in a way." the dead dragon answered in his mind. "I might be greedy and arrogant but if the System did not offer me those juicy potential rewards I would not have undertaken my daring plot."
Artorius couldn't help seeing way too many coincidences so far, it felt as if there were a much grander works in the shadows. He couldn't help raise, "And you did not find that suspicion?"
"Well you could say there are many unanswered questions…" the dead dragon in his mind answered hesitantly.
Ouroboros who did not know about their internal conversation and changed the topic, "Let's review," he said. "I want a clear picture."
Artorius straightened immediately, snapping into an exaggerated salute. "You got it, boss man. Right now I'm at Level forty across the board. Charisma is my highest stat so far with Willpower second. I have gotten used to my new Word of Power, Kinetic. And I have all my abilities unlocked now."
At the mention of his new abilities he brought up the three new ones he gained over these past months.
Underdog (Rare): When facing foes stronger, more numerous, or more renowned than you, your power scales upward. The greater the odds, the more the story rallies behind you.
Mentor – Guides others to grow, teach, and unlock their potential.
Draconic Companionship(Rare): You are acknowledged by Dragons. Forge sacred, unbreakable bonds with them. These unions transcend control or simple taming becoming pacts of loyalty, respect, and dominion.
"Good, you are almost at the threshold now. At 100 that is a fantastic achievement and that will tailor the evolution options that open up to you. It's great you are mastering your new word of power, soon as you mentioned you will be at your limit. And I know you wanted to hit the other trials for the Monarch and Sovereigns trials but you can run them after we handle these invaders."
Artorius nodded, Ouroboros was right he was almost at his limit when it came to how many words of powers he could wield. That is why when it came to the Kinetic Kirin and the Sword Dragon, he went with the force word of power.
It felt as if he was bloated and could barely take on any more new word of powers. "On that note, any hints on techniques?" They did find the technique that the Sword Dragon was mentioned but there were issues with it.
He still had it and brought it up to look at it;
—Body Cultivation Technique: Severing Path of the Living Blade—
Type: Epic Draconic Martial Cultivation
Effect: Progressive enhancement of muscular density, neural response speed, skeletal reinforcement.
Passive Bonuses:
+3% Dexterity with completed cycle +2% Strength with completed cycle Weapon handling precision increases proportionally Bladed weapons treated as natural extensions of the body
Just looking at it made his mouth water, this was Percentage-based growth so the higher his stats became the more stats he could get. However there was an issue with this technique thanks to Zytherion pointing it out.
With his dragon eye he could see the trap set into the technique clearly now since Zytherion showed it to him. There were controls in them basically making him a slave of the sword dragon clan.
Every time he practiced this technique it would reinforce the idea that the blade is truth, that obedience to the Path sharpens you, that deviation dulls you. Over time, the practitioner's sense of self aligns with the will of the one who authored it. It was a classic great power behavior. Give followers strength, secretly install controls. If they rebel, the technique turns against them. If they don't, they never notice.
"No," Ouroboros shook his head. "Techniques are very rare, they do not grow on trees and even if you threaten the lives of the other established noble, royal, and imperial dragon, trust me I tried, they will not give it to you since they are under oaths and other protections."
"Last but not least is the new patron I got," he knew bringing it up would irritate Zytherion. However this opened up options for him. He could still recall it when it happened.
…
After the battlefield had gone quiet. Not the silence of victory, nor the hush of fear but the kind of stillness that came when reality itself paused to observe. Artorius stood within the ruins of the last heart where all the dead royal dragons laid.
Artorius looked at the destruction, the last echoes of battle fading into the corpse's artificial sky. His army was regrouping below, wounded being dragged back, and the dead marked. He noticed then the false sky moved. It was not clouds nor light but the stars themselves shifted.
Even the Star Dragon who was present next to him froze and then knelt. Beyond it lay true space. Infinite. Cold. Alive. A colossal presence loomed just beyond the veil. He knew who it was right away. The Star Dragon Empress.
Her form was vast but precise, scales forged from nebulae and crystallized starlight, wings spanning constellations. Entire star systems rotated slowly along her spine, orbiting her like ornaments. Her eyes were galaxies in motion.
'She won't dare,' he heard the dragon trapped in his mind say then.
[Star Drake Dragon Empress ??? has supported you]
[New Evolutionary Path Available: Star Drake Dragon Empress]
…
Remembering that, he now had another path he could go down.
"Yeah, she is a very good patron to have. She is one of the Old Sovereigns so I'm surprised to see her move."
'It's bait,' Zytherion said. 'She is clearly up to something.'
Artorius ignored him as he listened to Ouroboros, he felt a lot better knowing that Zytherion had someone to counterbalance him even though they might have their own goals. "She takes part in a big part of the Dragons outer space business."
He drifted in a slow circle as he spoke. "She mostly deals in space travel like space airlines, star lanes, deep voyages, and so on. She also controls gateways," Ouroboros said. "Stellar gates, astral bridges, orbital anchors. Any structure that allows mass movement between systems without ripping reality. Most large-scale dragon empires would collapse without those networks."
Artorius nodded clearly seeing she was a powerhouse in the Dragon Peaks. "Finally the most important thing is starcharts. She maps the stars helping find new worlds to conquer or settle. Without them, long-range expansion is blind luck."
Artorius absorbed that quietly. "So if I take her path," he said, "I don't just get stronger."
"No," Ouroboros agreed. "You get relevance. Access. Protection from certain cosmic laws. And eventually, responsibility."
Zytherion's voice curled like smoke in his mind. 'And chains. Don't forget the chains.'
Artorius smirked faintly. "Everything worth having comes with strings."
Changing the topic back to the main issue. "Anyways first thing on the table though, I just have to survive a bunch of the apex dragons in the Nest all by myself."
"And now," Ouroboros added, "the System's watching too."
Artorius looked up, gaze hardening. "Then I won't slow down," he said. "I continue to advance. Not looking back."
A grin split Ouroboros's face. "That's the spirit. Conquer the Nest, get a mystery title, reign supreme. Simple."
Artorius huffed a quiet laugh. But as he looked out through the skull's glowing eye socket, watching his army move like a living machine across the corpse, he knew one thing with absolute certainty. This quest wasn't asking if he could conquer the Nest. It was asking how he would survive the attempt.