When the vision faded, the world did not return to Drakar immediately, but slowly, as though reality itself were carefully layering itself back over his eyes piece by piece, and at first he heard only the dull sound of his own heart beating heavily and deeply in his chest like a hammer striking the anvil in Svarog's forge, then came the scent of damp soil, wet bark, and cold air thick with ancient energy, and only after that did his sight finally focus again upon the immense roots of the World Tree that tore through the earth before him like the bodies of sleeping giants.
He stood motionless.
The runes on his body burned.
Not as they did during battle.
This was a different fire.
Quieter.
But deeper.
Every rune beneath his skin pulsed in rhythm with the roots of Axis Mundi, as though his blood had suddenly become a part of the tree itself, and for a brief moment Drakar felt something strange—not power, not rage, but memory.
Not his own.
The memory of the world.
He drew a slow breath.
The air was heavy.
"You have seen the beginning," the Serpent whispered from the depths of his mind.
Drakar did not answer immediately.
He simply stared at the roots.
"I saw… a mistake," he said quietly.
"A mistake?" There was faint amusement in the ancient dragon's voice.
"The gods believed they were creating order," Drakar continued. "But all they truly created were borders."
The wind moved through the branches of the forest.
Far away a tree cracked.
The world had begun moving again.
But Drakar now looked at it differently.
Now he understood that every branch in the forest, every fracture in the soil, every whisper of wind was part of something far greater.
The World Tree held everything together.
And it was wounded.
"Nyxaroth is waiting," he said.
It was not a question.
"Yes," the Serpent replied.
"He wants the gods to kill each other."
"He wants the world to collapse by itself."
Drakar clenched his fist.
A spark of lightning ran between his fingers.
"Then I will do more than simply kill gods," he said."I will make them watch their own world fall."
The ground beneath his feet trembled slightly.
At first it was barely noticeable.
But then the roots of the World Tree began to pulse.
Not calmly.
But anxiously.
Drakar tilted his head.
He felt it immediately.
Something was moving beneath the earth.
Not a beast.
Not a human.
Something far greater.
The ground cracked.
The root before him split apart, and from beneath it a massive shadow slowly rose.
At first it seemed like nothing more than darkness.
But then the darkness began to take shape—a colossal body made of stone and tangled roots, with eyes burning with dim green light like two rotting emeralds glowing within the hollow of a skull.
Drakar did not move.
He looked directly at the creature.
"A Guardian," the Serpent whispered.
And indeed it was.
Not a monster.
A protector.
Older than empires.
Older than many gods.
When the creature spoke, its voice was deep and heavy, as though the earth itself were speaking through stone.
"Bearer of runes…" it thundered.
Drakar answered calmly.
"I am not the enemy of the Tree."
The creature's eyes flared brighter.
"You… kill gods."
"They kill the world."
The silence between them became heavy.
The Guardian raised its stone arm, and the roots around them began to move like living serpents.
"Every death of a god… tears the fabric of reality," it said.
Drakar stepped forward.
"I know."
The Guardian tilted its head.
"Then why do you continue?"
The answer did not come immediately.
Drakar looked at the roots.
At the immense trunk of the tree rising into the sky.
At the world the gods had torn apart.
"Because they will not stop," he said.
The Guardian remained silent.
"If I do nothing, they will destroy the Tree themselves."
The green light in the creature's eyes faded for a moment.
Then burned brighter.
"You are not the one who should decide the fate of the world."
Drakar lifted his chains.
"But I am the one who can."
The Guardian stepped forward.
The ground shook violently.
Roots burst from the soil around them.
The battle had begun.
The Guardian struck first.
Its stone arm crashed downward with the force of a mountain falling, but Drakar was already moving—he threw a chain into the nearest root, pulled himself forward, and soared over the impact as the earth exploded beneath him.
He landed on the creature's shoulder.
His blade slammed into the stone flesh.
Sparks scattered.
But this was not like fighting a god.
The Guardian had no rune.
No heart.
Only massive strength.
The creature swung its arm.
Drakar was thrown into the air.
His body slammed into the tree.
The breath was knocked from his lungs.
He dropped to one knee.
Blood filled his mouth.
"You are weaker than the gods," the Guardian said.
Drakar wiped the blood from his lips.
"But I'm more stubborn."
He leapt again.
This time the chains did not fly toward the Guardian.
They flew toward the Tree.
The blades sank into the bark of Axis Mundi, and Drakar used them as anchors to accelerate.
His body spun through the air.
Then he struck.
Both blades slammed into the Guardian's neck.
Stone cracked.
But the creature did not fall.
Instead—
it roared.
The earth split open.
Dozens of roots burst from the ground, wrapping around Drakar like a trap.
They tightened.
His ribs groaned under the pressure.
"Use the rune," the Serpent whispered.
Drakar closed his eyes.
And allowed the thunder in his chest to explode.
Lightning erupted from his body.
Not from the sky.
From within.
The light surged through the roots.
The Tree hummed.
The Guardian cried out.
The roots released him.
Drakar fell to the ground.
He breathed heavily.
The Guardian stood motionless.
Then slowly lowered its arm.
"You… did not harm the Tree," it said.
Drakar rose to his feet.
"I told you."
The Guardian watched him for a long time.
Then the ground beneath it began to close.
Its body slowly sank back into the roots.
Before disappearing completely, it spoke once more.
"Go… bearer of dragon blood."
Drakar inclined his head slightly.
"We will meet again."
The Guardian vanished.
The forest became silent once more.
Drakar stood beside the roots of the World Tree, staring into the darkness between the trees.
The runes on his body burned brighter than before.
"You changed something," the Serpent whispered.
"No," Drakar replied.
He lifted his chains.
And walked deeper into the forest.
"I have only begun."
Far away among the branches of the World Tree a quiet whisper passed through the air.
Not wind.
Not leaves.
Something else.
And in the darkness between pantheons—
Nyxaroth opened his eyes.
The game was becoming more interesting.