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Sacred Aura, Theresia Continent.
Noon sunlight poured over a rolling Mountain Range. Somewhere within it stood a peak taller than all the rest.
At the foot of that peak stood a massive dragon with scales dark red as blood.
He reared up on his hind legs, wings folded behind him and feet planted in the earth. With solemn dignity, he pressed his hips against the mountain before him, bracing himself against its highest peak.
The peak met him squarely between the legs.
Time passed. The red dragon remained pressed against the mountain, head tilted back, breathing heavily, eyes burning as he stared at the sky. Any onlooker would have wondered what on earth he was doing.
Suddenly—
Riiip!
Two enormous claws tore through the space above the Mountain Range. A black Space Rift yawned open, and Necroxus, the Undead Black Dragon, and Garos emerged from it almost simultaneously.
"Is this Sacred Aura's true form?"
The black dragon had set foot in the Empire's heartland. Curiosity flickered in his eye sockets as he surveyed the surroundings, then
his gaze inevitably fell on the tallest peak—and the red dragon pressed against it in that strange pose.
That's the red dragon who fought my Undead first—
Necroxus recognized him.
It was Ignas, the Immortal red dragon famed as the Empire's Dragon of Destruction.
But the black dragon was not puzzled by his presence.
What truly baffled him was what the red dragon was doing.
Why was he standing against a mountain like that? Why was he gazing skyward with an expression both solemn and excited? Was he exploring some ancient, profound secret art, or performing a ritual Necroxus could not comprehend?
Full of questions, Necroxus instinctively looked at Garos.
What's going on?
What's that red dragon doing?
He asked