The journey to the northern sector of the Azure Mist Forest was no scenic nature walk.
The further north they pushed, the lush, vibrant greenery that defined the forest began to decay. The trees became gnarled skeletons, their twisted trunks pale grey like the skin of the dead. The soil beneath their feet shifted from wet mud to parched, cracked earth littered with sharp shards of calcium.
But the physical desolation was the least of Elian's torment.
It was the pressure.
Every step Elian took felt as though he were hauling fifty kilograms of iron on his back. The air here was viscous, charged with static electricity, and smelled of ancient rust. His heart pounded against his ribs—not from physical exhaustion, but from a primal human instinct screaming in terror as it approached an apex predator.
"Your breathing is a mess," Lunaria chided.
She walked two steps ahead of him, her posture erect and graceful. The atmospheric pressure that was suffocating Elian seemed to have no effect on her whatsoever.
"The air... is so heavy, Master," Elian wheezed, wiping cold sweat from his temples. His beautiful face was pale as a sheet, yet his eyes remained focused on Lunaria's back.
"We are entering Dragonbone Valley," Lunaria explained without turning. "Centuries ago, before the war with the Void Walkers, this was a battleground between Dragons and Ancient Giants. Many Dragons fell here."
Lunaria stopped at the edge of a sloping cliff. She pointed downward.
"Look."
Elian dragged his feet to the edge and peered over. His eyes widened.
The valley was vast, shrouded in thin mist. But it wasn't rocks that dominated the landscape—it was colossal bones. Curved dragon ribs jutted from the earth like the towers of a ruined castle, forming terrifying natural tunnels. Dragon skulls the size of carriage houses lay scattered about, their empty eye sockets staring at the sky with eternal hatred.
"Dragons are an arrogant race," Lunaria continued, her voice carrying a note of warning. "Even in death, their pride and their Aura do not fade. Their 'Will' remains in these bones, crushing any lesser creature that dares approach. That is what you are feeling now, Elian. Dragon Fear."
Elian swallowed hard. "And we are going down there?"
"Not 'we'," Lunaria corrected with a faint smile. "You. I need the Dragonblood Nightshade that grows inside the eye socket of the Red Dragon skull in the center of the valley. It is black with glowing red veins. Fetch it for me."
"Alone?" Elian stared at his teacher in disbelief. The pressure up here was already suffocating; the center of the valley would be crushing.
"If you faint from the pressure of mere residual aura, then you deserve to die here. Remember, Elian, in the future you may face living Dragons. Consider this practice in greeting their ancestors."
Lunaria sat on the edge of the cliff, pulled a fresh apple from her spatial bag, and bit into it casually. "You have until sunset. If you fail, you sleep outside tonight."
Elian clenched his fists. He hated his teacher's nonchalance, but he hated his own weakness even more.
Without wasting breath on protests, Elian began his descent down the steep slope toward the valley floor.
The moment his boots touched the bottom, the pressure doubled.
Thump... Thump...
Elian's heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand. His knees buckled, forcing him down onto one leg. It felt as if an invisible force was pushing on his head, demanding he prostrate himself.
Kneel, Insect!
A voice that was not words, but a pure concept, exploded in his mind. It was the residual will of the Dragons. They demanded submission.
"No..." Elian hissed.
He bit his lip until it bled. The sharp pain gave him clarity. He gripped the hilt of his steel dagger tight. He was Elian Vane. He had lost everything. He had nothing left to bow to.
Slowly, with trembling limbs, Elian forced his legs to straighten. He stood.
The wind in the valley howled, carrying bone dust. Elian began to walk. Step by agonizing step. Every meter was a battle against spiritual gravity. Sweat poured off him, soaking his tattered tunic.
Halfway there, Elian spotted the plant. The flower grew lushly inside the eye socket of a half-buried dragon skull. The skull radiated a faint, scorching heat—a remnant of the fire element the dragon wielded in life.
However, the valley was not truly dead.
As Elian approached the skull, a pile of smaller bones nearby began to rattle.
Click... Clack...
A creature crawled out from behind the dragon's ribs. It resembled a giant centipede, but its shell was formed from fused bones. It was three meters long, with dozens of sharp legs and mandibles dripping green acid.
A Bone Skitterer. A scavenger mutated by centuries of consuming rotten dragon marrow.
The creature hissed when it saw fresh meat—Elian.
"Of course there's a guardian," Elian muttered sarcastically. He drew his dagger.
Fighting under the crushing weight of Dragon Fear was a nightmare. Elian's movements were sluggish. His body felt rusted.
The bone centipede lunged.
Elian tried to dodge sideways, but his legs were leaden. The creature's claw grazed his thigh, tearing through pants and skin.
"Argh!" Elian stumbled back.
Blood dripped onto the dry earth.
The creature gave him no respite. It whipped its tail around. Elian raised his dagger to block, but his strength was insufficient against the monster's mass.
CLANG!
The steel dagger snapped in two. The centipede's tail slammed into Elian's chest, throwing him backward into the giant fang of the dragon skull behind him.
"Cough!" Elian spat fresh blood. His ribs felt cracked.
His vision blurred. Fear began to creep in. The creature approached again, its mandibles opening wide.
Am I going to die here? Eaten by a bug in a dragon's graveyard?
Up on the cliff, Lunaria watched with sharp eyes. Her finger twitched toward her bow, but she held back. "Get up, Elian. Use what you have. Don't fight the current; become part of the valley."
Down below, Elian felt the ground vibrate as the centipede drew near. He had no weapon. His body was broken. The dragon pressure was crushing him.
Wait. The dragon pressure.
Elian closed his eyes for a split second. He was a Child of the World. He could feel the flow of energy around him.
The pressure in this valley wasn't random. It flowed from the massive bones toward the center.
He couldn't fight that current. But he could ride it.
As the centipede leaped for the final bite, Elian didn't try to resist or dodge with muscle power. He surrendered his body to the gravity, letting the valley's spiritual weight pull him down to the ground faster than a normal fall.
The centipede's attack sailed over his head, crashing into the dragon tooth Elian had been leaning against.
CRACK!
The shell of the centipede's head fractured from the high-speed impact against the diamond-hard dragon bone.
That moment.
Elian grabbed the broken shard of his dagger from the ground. He leaped onto the back of the dazed centipede. He didn't aim for the hard shell.
His Nature Sense highlighted the weak point. The soft connection between the head segment and the body.
With a desperate scream mixed with a roar of rage, Elian drove the broken blade into the gap.
SQUELCH!
Green acid sprayed out, burning Elian's hands. But he didn't let go. He twisted the jagged metal, churning the creature's insides.
The centipede thrashed violently, slamming its body against the ground, trying to throw Elian off. Elian held on, hugging the monster's neck like a mad jockey, letting the acid burn the skin of his arms.
Finally, the creature stopped moving. Dead.
Elian rolled off onto the ground, gasping for air like a drowning man. His entire body screamed in pain. The skin on his arms was blistering from the acid.
But he was alive.
He crawled, dragging his broken body toward the dragon's eye socket. With trembling hands, he plucked the Dragonblood Nightshade.
"I... got it..." he whispered to the empty air.
***
That night, they camped in a small cave on the outskirts of the valley, far from the reach of nocturnal monsters but still within the thinning aura pressure.
Elian lay on a fur mat. Lunaria was applying a cold blue ointment to his acid-burned arms.
"You were careless," Lunaria said, though her tone wasn't as icy as usual. "You let your weapon break. A weapon is an extension of your life."
"It was cheap human steel," Elian replied weakly, staring at the cave ceiling. "Ordinary iron can't withstand impact against dragon bone."
"Excuses," Lunaria pressed on the wound a little harder, making Elian hiss. "But you managed to use the valley's pressure to accelerate your drop. That was... clever."
Lunaria finished bandaging the wounds. She then picked up the Dragonblood Nightshade Elian had retrieved.
"Eat this," she commanded.
Elian's eyes went wide. "What? You said it was poisonous. You said it was for a medicinal bath."
"The plan has changed," Lunaria said flatly. "Your body responded to the dragon pressure earlier by drawing in mana more greedily than usual. Your cells are starving and wide open. If you eat this now—even though it will feel like swallowing live coals—your body will absorb a fraction of the dragon essence within it."
Lunaria plucked a single petal and held it to Elian's mouth.
"This will hurt. Perhaps more than the Wyvern blood. But it will harden your bones so they won't break so easily next time."
Elian looked at the black petal with its glowing red veins. He remembered how easily his dagger had snapped. He remembered how helpless he felt under the aura.
He opened his mouth and swallowed the petal.
The first second, there was no taste.
The second second, his stomach felt warm.
The third second, hellfire exploded in his gut.
"AAAAARGHHH!"
Elian screamed, his body arching like a bow. Veins bulged in his neck and face, glowing a faint red. He felt like his blood was boiling.
Lunaria immediately grabbed Elian, holding him down so he wouldn't bash himself against the cave walls. She hugged the boy from behind, restraining his thrashing arms.
"Endure it, Elian. Breathe!" Lunaria whispered in his ear.
Lunaria's naturally cold body provided a desperate contrast for Elian, who was burning from the inside out. Unconsciously, Elian leaned his head back against Lunaria's chest, seeking that coolness. Tears streamed down his face from the unbearable agony.
"It hurts... Master... it hurts..." Elian sobbed, his voice hoarse.
"I know," Lunaria whispered, her voice sounding far softer, almost maternal. She stroked Elian's sweat-drenched hair. "Pain is proof that you are changing. Iron must be burned before it is forged. You are becoming steel, Elian."
The process lasted for a full hour. An hour where Elian felt his life force being stretched to its breaking point.
When the heat finally subsided, Elian fainted in Lunaria's arms.
Lunaria looked down at her student's sleeping face. A face so beautiful, now peaceful despite the scars and sweat. Her finger traced Elian's jawline.
"Stupid child," she murmured softly. "The world out there is far crueler than this valley. The Human Continent is ruled by five political monsters, the Dragon Continent by absolute arrogance... You must be stronger than this if you want to survive when I am gone."
Lunaria knew her time with Elian wouldn't last forever. There were matters from her past that were starting to catch up with her. Sooner or later, she would have to leave Elian to settle her own debts, or those debts would kill them both.
And when that happened, Elian had to be ready to stand alone against a world that hated him.
Lunaria gently laid Elian's head on the pillow. She walked to the mouth of the cave, staring at the bright moon hanging over the Azure Mist Forest.
"The Solara Empire... The Yamato Shogunate... The Azura Federation..." Lunaria listed the names of the great powers as if taking attendance of her enemies. "Just wait. My student is coming to flip your chessboard."
In his sleep, Elian's bones glowed with a faint, crimson light. His skeletal structure compacted, becoming harder than iron. The dragon essence began to take root within him—a small step toward becoming an entity that would one day make even true Dragons bow their heads.