The Abyssal Vale's shadows receded behind him like curling smoke, vanishing into the air, leaving Vael'tharion alone with the mortal realm. The first thing he noticed was the pulse of life beneath his claws—tiny rivers of magical energy flowing beneath the ground, forests humming with latent power, and mortals scurrying across mountains and valleys like ants. Each heartbeat, each whisper of wind, seemed to react to his presence, bending in subtle ways to acknowledge him.
He flexed his claws instinctively, shadow tendrils writhing across black scales, coiling along draconic wings and tail. Abyssal Flames hissed along his wings, consuming moisture and raw energy alike. The storm above Arvath roared in recognition, clouds churning violently, streaks of lightning stabbing through darkened skies, and wind lashing like wild beasts. Mortals watched from afar, unaware that they were witnessing the approach of a Primordial Shadow-Dragon.
A tremor shattered the mountains. The earth groaned, splitting as molten rock burst forth, carving rivers of magma into the jagged cliffs. From this molten rift emerged the Elder Worm, larger than any mountain peak Vael'tharion had seen, scales flowing and molten like living lava, eyes glowing with molten intelligence. Wings spread, blotting out storm clouds, air warping from raw heat.
A resonant pulse of thought reached Vael'tharion's mind:
"So… the shadow-blooded dares enter my domain. Mortals whisper of your power, but titles are for the dead to remember."
Vael'tharion narrowed his eyes. This was no mindless creature. This was cunning, prideful, and intelligent.
"I am no mortal. I am shadow incarnate. Stand aside… or fall."
The Worm laughed—a molten eruption that shook the earth beneath them. "I have walked these lands for eons. Many have tried… all have failed. Will you join the list of fools?"
Vael'tharion leapt into the storm, wings slicing torrents of rain. Shadows erupted, forming tendrils, armor, and jagged constructs, all moving fluidly, obedient to thought. Abyssal Flames ignited, a black fire hotter than the storm itself, consuming both moisture and raw magical energy.
The Elder Worm struck first, spewing molten fire in a torrent that instantly turned the valley into a river of liquid rock. Trees ignited, rivers hissed and boiled, and the storm's lightning danced over the surface. Vael'tharion reacted instantly, splitting into three Temporal Shadow Step projections:
Draconic projection lunged at the Worm's flank, claws ablaze with Abyssal Flames, tearing molten flesh.
Humanoid form summoned jagged Shadow Law Constructs—spears, whips, and armored fists—slicing at molten scales with precision.
Shadow tendrils coiled around the Wyrm's legs, anchoring the colossal body to the fractured earth.
The Worm roared, tail sweeping across mountains, sending boulders tumbling into valleys. Each strike was strategic, analyzing Vael'tharion's attack patterns. It wasn't just power—it was thinking, calculating, adapting.
Mortals in distant valleys froze. Sect warriors lifted trembling wards, mountains tribes fell to their knees, priests muttered prayers to gods long forgotten. Even arcane mages shivered, realizing they were witnessing an event beyond mortal comprehension.
Vael'tharion shifted fluidly between draconic and humanoid forms. Claws tore molten stone; Abyssal Flames devoured the battlefield. Shadow constructs sliced through magma, restraining limbs, deflecting molten breath, and striking with surgical precision. Temporal Shadow Steps multiplied, appearing simultaneously above, below, behind, and beside the Worm.
"You hide behind shadows and flames… true mastery is blood and thought!" the Worm taunted, molten eyes flashing with cunning pride.
Vael'tharion combined Void Resonance with Predatory Instincts, predicting the Elder Worm's next moves. Shadows wrapped around molten fire, absorbing and redirecting its energy. Abyssal Flames burned hotter than the storm itself, consuming energy, matter, and latent magical flows.
Rivers boiled, forests shattered, cliffs crumbled. Every attack sent shockwaves across miles. Mortals screamed, shielded themselves, or fled as the sheer destructive power warped reality itself.
The Elder Worm recoiled from the initial assault but did not falter. Molten scales shifted and hardened, forming jagged ridges along its massive spine. Its eyes glowed with molten cunning as it slithered with terrifying agility across fractured cliffs, tail lashing, sending mountainside debris tumbling like falling stars.
"So… the shadow-blooded thinks he can outmaneuver eons of experience," it hissed through thought, vibrations rippling through Vael'tharion's mind. "I have danced through storms that could crush stars, fought gods who would have eaten mortals alive. Will you join them?"
Vael'tharion's eyes narrowed. Every syllable the Worm sent into his mind was a challenge, a lure to test the limits of his strategy.
"Then let us dance," Vael'tharion whispered, and shadows erupted around him like living serpents, writhing and coiling, forming armor, weapons, and tethering chains in fluid response to the storm's rage.
The Elder Worm lunged skyward, attempting to crush Vael'tharion with a dive capable of leveling the valley. Temporal Shadow Steps activated instinctively: three projections struck simultaneously, assaulting from impossible angles:
The first draconic form ripped into the Worm's flank with Abyssal Flames, the black fire burning hotter than molten rock, searing scales and energy alike.
The humanoid form extended Shadow Law Constructs, a dozen jagged spears piercing the Worm's molten hide, while armored fists struck with cataclysmic precision.
Shadow tendrils wrapped around the creature's limbs and tail, anchoring it to the shattered mountains below.
The Elder Worm roared, molten fire erupting in every direction, incinerating trees, splintering stone, and sending rivers of magma cascading down the valleys. With every strike, it adapted, swinging its tail in calculated arcs, twisting its massive body to counter the shadows, using its molten breath to create counterflows in the air and heat currents to destabilize Vael'tharion's projections.
Mortals scattered across the valley froze in awe. Sect warriors dropped weapons, temples trembled, and forested peaks erupted as trees ignited from stray Abyssal Flames and molten spray. Arcane barriers distorted under the clash, wards sparking and collapsing. The world itself shivered at the scale of the confrontation.
Vael'tharion's claws tore through molten rock, shaping jagged shards into projectiles with a thought. Shadow tendrils coiled around mountain spires, pulling them into the fight. Abyssal Flames surged, consuming energy from the storm, feeding his attacks.
The Elder Worm responded with cunning, not just force. It leveraged the environment, pulling rivers of molten rock into whirling torrents, creating walls of fire, and using collapsing cliffs as swinging weapons. Lightning struck through the storm, reacting to the interaction of molten heat and Vael'tharion's black flames, sending arcs of electricity that danced across the battlefield.
"Clever… but predictable," the Worm hissed. "You may bend shadows, but fire and magma obey me!"
Vael'tharion smirked. He wasn't just bending shadows—he was weaving the storm, the fire, the molten earth, and the ambient energy into a single symphony of destruction. Abyssal Flames coiled into a spiraling gauntlet around his draconic claws, shadow constructs forming whips, chains, and blades that cut with surgical precision.
Shadow Form Shift: Seamless transitions allowed Vael'tharion to attack with draconic power, then manipulate constructs in humanoid form midair.
Abyssal Flames: Black fire devoured molten rock, redirecting the Elder Worm's energy and superheating the storm's rain into scalding steam.
Shadow Law Constructs: Spear tips, whips, and blades struck from impossible angles, wrapping around the Worm's limbs, constraining its movement without entirely immobilizing it.
Temporal Shadow Step: He attacked from multiple positions simultaneously, leaving projections that disoriented the Elder Worm and forced it to split attention across multiple threats.
Void Resonance: He anticipated attacks before they fully formed, detecting energy buildup in the Worm's molten core.
Soul Absorption: Each minor strike drew small energy shards from the Worm's molten mass, subtly enhancing Vael'tharion's strength mid-battle.
Every move was a calculated execution of power, but the Elder Worm was not a mere obstacle—it responded, adapted, and countered, striking the very terrain Vael'tharion relied upon, forcing him to continuously improvise.
The Elder Worm spiraled into the sky, molten wings beating like volcanic storms, intending to crush Vael'tharion beneath a cataclysmic dive. Rivers boiled, forests were flattened, cliffs shattered. Time seemed to slow as Vael'tharion activated Temporal Shadow Step: three, five, seven projections assaulted from all sides simultaneously, strikes landing on the Worm's molten form, disorienting it mid-flight.
He coiled shadows into massive constructs, wrapping around the Worm's wings and tail, pulling the massive beast into a precarious descent. Abyssal Flames spiraled in tandem, burning hotter than magma, consuming and redirecting energy from the storm.
"Do you truly understand what it means to face me, mortal shadow?" the Elder Worm hissed through thought. Its voice was a molten growl vibrating through the mountains, full of eons of pride, cunning, and fury.
"Enough words." Vael'tharion's claws flexed, shadow tendrils lashing outward, piercing molten flesh with precision. Soul Absorption surged, drawing the molten energy into his own form, amplifying his speed, reflexes, and firepower.
Vael'tharion condensed all shadow and Abyssal Flames into a colossal gauntlet of living darkness, tendrils lashing in unison, claws striking with the force of storms. The Elder Worm screamed, molten energy erupting outward, rivers of fire cascading through the valleys.
For a fleeting instant, the molten giant locked eyes with Vael'tharion. In thought, slow, deliberate, heavy with centuries of knowledge and pride, it whispered:
"I may fall… but I will not be the last."
The Elder Worm collapsed, cratering the valley, molten fire and shadow entwining in a chaotic symphony of destruction.
Vael'tharion hovered above the devastation, wings spread, shadows swirling protectively. Rivers reformed, forests slowly began to stir, and the mortal world trembled in awe. Mortals fled, witnessed, or fell to knees, their minds barely able to comprehend the magnitude of the battle. Sect armies paused mid-march, mountain tribes watched in fearful reverence, and mages whispered forbidden names.
Far beyond the horizon, pulses of magical energy hinted at converging armies and sects, drawn by the cataclysm. Vael'tharion's eyes narrowed, predatory, calculating. This battle had been a test, a declaration—the war for Kaelithar had begun, and the world would soon tremble under the weight of the Primordial Shadow-Dragon.