Chapter One: Ashes of the Ducal Bloodline
One day, a twelve-year-old boy named Kaileth Noctharis was eating with his family in their small, impoverished village.
Without warning, the sound of galloping horses thundered through the streets.
Kaileth's father, Malkarth Noctharis, rose from his chair and walked toward the door to see what was happening. The moment he opened it, a knight stood before him—smiling coldly, a sword already pressed against his throat.
"Run! Quickly!" Malkarth shouted.
In the next instant, his head was severed, flying before the eyes of his wife and son.
"Hide with your sister!" his mother cried.
Kaileth grabbed his fourteen-year-old sister, Nerith, just as a devastating strike shattered their home. Rubble collapsed around them. When the dust settled, Kaileth and Nerith were still alive—but their mother, Seraphina, was trapped beneath broken marble and stone.
Kaileth stood frozen, trembling, tears streaming down his face. Nerith wept beside him.
With her final strength, Seraphina screamed, "Kaileth! Nerith! Run!"
Her voice was cut short.
They fled through the narrow alleys, clothes torn, feet stumbling over stone. Nerith stayed at Kaileth's side as chaos swallowed the village.
But suddenly—
A knight seized them both by the hair and lifted them from the ground.
Nerith, gritting her teeth, slammed her head into the knight's arm—the one gripping Kaileth. The sudden blow loosened his hold, and Kaileth fell free.
"RUUUUN!" she screamed.
"Catch him!" the knight roared.
Kaileth ran.
He ran faster than he ever had before.
The men chased him—but they could not catch him.
Days Later — The Black Mountains
Inside a dark cavern within the Black Mountains, Kaileth knelt on the cold stone floor. He had not eaten for days. His body was thin, his breathing weak.
And just when he thought the darkness would swallow him—
A shadow appeared.
An old man stepped forward. His back was bent with age. His eyes were deep and black.
But his aura?
A dragon.
"For one hundred and fifty years… I have waited for those eyes."
Kaileth slowly raised his head, his voice cold.
"Move out of my way, old man."
A rough, quiet laugh echoed through the cave.
"I am your grandfather."
Silence fell.
The wind howled outside, as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath.
The old man—Verath Noctharis—was the last Black Dragon to survive the Purge.
"Your father and your grandfather were not weak," Verath said.
"The family's legacy was shattered."
"And you… you are untouched by that fracture."
Kaileth looked away.
"It doesn't matter."
"I will kill them all."
A dark, satisfied smile formed on the old dragon's face.
"Good."
"But before you take revenge… you must survive."
He extended his hand.
"And I will make you a dragon… not half, not incomplete."
Deep within Kaileth, something awakened.
Black flames.
No heat.
No sound.
The prophecy had begun.
Chapter One: Ashes of the Ducal Bloodline
One day, a twelve-year-old boy named Kaileth Noctharis was eating with his family in their small, impoverished village.
Without warning, the sound of galloping horses thundered through the streets.
Kaileth's father, Malkarth Noctharis, rose from his chair and walked toward the door to see what was happening. The moment he opened it, a knight stood before him—smiling coldly, a sword already pressed against his throat.
"Run! Quickly!" Malkarth shouted.
In the next instant, his head was severed, flying before the eyes of his wife and son.
"Hide with your sister!" his mother cried.
Kaileth grabbed his fourteen-year-old sister, Nerith, just as a devastating strike shattered their home. Rubble collapsed around them. When the dust settled, Kaileth and Nerith were still alive—but their mother, Seraphina, was trapped beneath broken marble and stone.
Kaileth stood frozen, trembling, tears streaming down his face. Nerith wept beside him.
With her final strength, Seraphina screamed, "Kaileth! Nerith! Run!"
Her voice was cut short.
They fled through the narrow alleys, clothes torn, feet stumbling over stone. Nerith stayed at Kaileth's side as chaos swallowed the village.
But suddenly—
A knight seized them both by the hair and lifted them from the ground.
Nerith, gritting her teeth, slammed her head into the knight's arm—the one gripping Kaileth. The sudden blow loosened his hold, and Kaileth fell free.
"RUUUUN!" she screamed.
"Catch him!" the knight roared.
Kaileth ran.
He ran faster than he ever had before.
The men chased him—but they could not catch him.
Days Later — The Black Mountains
Inside a dark cavern within the Black Mountains, Kaileth knelt on the cold stone floor. He had not eaten for days. His body was thin, his breathing weak.
And just when he thought the darkness would swallow him—
A shadow appeared.
An old man stepped forward. His back was bent with age. His eyes were deep and black.
But his aura?
A dragon.
"For one hundred and fifty years… I have waited for those eyes."
Kaileth slowly raised his head, his voice cold.
"Move out of my way, old man."
A rough, quiet laugh echoed through the cave.
"I am your grandfather."
Silence fell.
The wind howled outside, as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath.
The old man—Verath Noctharis—was the last Black Dragon to survive the Purge.
"Your father and your grandfather were not weak," Verath said.
"The family's legacy was shattered."
"And you… you are untouched by that fracture."
Kaileth looked away.
"It doesn't matter."
"I will kill them all."
A dark, satisfied smile formed on the old dragon's face.
"Good."
"But before you take revenge… you must survive."
He extended his hand.
"And I will make you a dragon… not half, not incomplete."
Deep within Kaileth, something awakened.
Black flames.
No heat.
No sound.
The prophecy had begun.
Chapter One: Ashes of the Ducal Bloodline
One day, a twelve-year-old boy named Kaileth Noctharis was eating with his family in their small, impoverished village.
Without warning, the sound of galloping horses thundered through the streets.
Kaileth's father, Malkarth Noctharis, rose from his chair and walked toward the door to see what was happening. The moment he opened it, a knight stood before him—smiling coldly, a sword already pressed against his throat.
"Run! Quickly!" Malkarth shouted.
In the next instant, his head was severed, flying before the eyes of his wife and son.
"Hide with your sister!" his mother cried.
Kaileth grabbed his fourteen-year-old sister, Nerith, just as a devastating strike shattered their home. Rubble collapsed around them. When the dust settled, Kaileth and Nerith were still alive—but their mother, Seraphina, was trapped beneath broken marble and stone.
Kaileth stood frozen, trembling, tears streaming down his face. Nerith wept beside him.
With her final strength, Seraphina screamed, "Kaileth! Nerith! Run!"
Her voice was cut short.
They fled through the narrow alleys, clothes torn, feet stumbling over stone. Nerith stayed at Kaileth's side as chaos swallowed the village.
But suddenly—
A knight seized them both by the hair and lifted them from the ground.
Nerith, gritting her teeth, slammed her head into the knight's arm—the one gripping Kaileth. The sudden blow loosened his hold, and Kaileth fell free.
"RUUUUN!" she screamed.
"Catch him!" the knight roared.
Kaileth ran.
He ran faster than he ever had before.
The men chased him—but they could not catch him.
Days Later — The Black Mountains
Inside a dark cavern within the Black Mountains, Kaileth knelt on the cold stone floor. He had not eaten for days. His body was thin, his breathing weak.
And just when he thought the darkness would swallow him—
A shadow appeared.
An old man stepped forward. His back was bent with age. His eyes were deep and black.
But his aura?
A dragon.
"For one hundred and fifty years… I have waited for those eyes."
Kaileth slowly raised his head, his voice cold.
"Move out of my way, old man."
A rough, quiet laugh echoed through the cave.
"I am your grandfather."
Silence fell.
The wind howled outside, as if the mountains themselves were holding their breath.
The old man—Verath Noctharis—was the last Black Dragon to survive the Purge.
"Your father and your grandfather were not weak," Verath said.
"The family's legacy was shattered."
"And you… you are untouched by that fracture."
Kaileth looked away.
"It doesn't matter."
"I will kill them all."
A dark, satisfied smile formed on the old dragon's face.
"Good."
"But before you take revenge… you must survive."
He extended his hand.
"And I will make you a dragon… not half, not incomplete."
Deep within Kaileth, something awakened.
Black flames.
No heat.
No sound.
The prophecy had begun.