The Villain's Story

Chapter 837: He who is the light.

A tail like that of a great leviathan emerged first, broad and supple, and built not for shredding earth like a dragon’s spiked tail, but for gliding effortlessly through any realm it entered. Its fins unfurling like living sails.

Above it rose a mass of flesh both soft and slick, resilient as tempered steel. Thick layers of hardened scales overlapped across its surface, forming a natural armor that almost none could pierce through. It bore no jagged ridges like the icy spines that adorned Alan’s back, nor the bone-tipped spears that lined Kazikato’s. Nor did it resemble Elijah’s smooth, serpentine scales.

It was a dragonic form unlike any other Alan had seen.

Instead, a single dorsal fin crowned its back, delicate in appearance, yet thrumming with an immense power. Beneath it, a pair of gills pulsed steadily, feeding the immense body above: a towering physique of raw muscle, forged from strength beyond comprehension, yet radiating a quiet, almost serene gentleness.

All of it coiled around a pillar of stone... no, it was not stone, but a monolithic tower of dark celestial metal. Its surface was cool, ancient, and engraved with unknown sigils. At its peak burned a soft, unwavering light, a beacon that pierced even the deepest shadow.

It was a depiction so vivid and real that Alan was almost fooled into thinking the Dragon of Darkness was in front of him. But this was a statue much like the rest, however, it was the best of them.

It was carved so intricately that it put every other one he had seen to shame, and it was so great that Alan finally noticed the true form of the Dragon of Darkness. The statues outside were different from this one.

They were nothing but crude compared to this, a true depiction of the only dragon he couldn’t dare to see in his memories, for every instance of his descent was embroiled in a deadly battle with the strongest one he knew. The strongest that existed.

He was the one dragon that Alan hadn’t gotten a good look at from his dreams.

The First Son of Death, The Head of House Shivalkulan, one of the four pillars that held the empire of dragons upon its mighty throne. A being that existed before mortals learned to speak or conceive thought, the very embodiment of the unknown that all life feared, the darkness beyond the border of their vision.

The Supreme Dragon of Darkness, Valus. The one dragon Jame’s avoided at all costs, the one dragon that possessed a [Dragon Eyes] so mighty no truth could hide from him, and the one dragon that James was leading Alan to.

The very one that had the ability to answer whatever Alan Peccator was, what kind of existence he was.

It was a depiction of that very dragon, carved from stone but imitating flesh. Alan almost fell to his knees, but his prior experience in meeting Supremes gave him the ability to hold his ground. For he knew this was not the dragon in actuality.

He had met Lanesha, he had met Kulak, and even knew of Suleras. Those that actually possessed the presence of a Supreme. Encounters like those had shaped his will, even if he didn’t know it. It had given him tolerance, and realization. Had he been anyone else, he would have thought the depiction was real.

But it was not, it certainly possessed a presence, but this presence was not Supreme.

Calming his nerves down, Alan searched high and low for a tablet, or any sort of message that this Church held, but found nothing resembling letters. The sigils carved into the stone of the Lighthouse were something that not even he, with the gift of a dragon to understand all languages, could comprehend.

But there had to be something. Some sort of hint other than the depiction, but alas, no matter how much Alan searched, only the statue was present, holding unknown sigils. Alan sighed as he gazed upon the depiction once more.

The Dragon of Darkness coiled around a monolith of black steel, a monolith that held a light at the very top, merely inches below the head of the Dragon himself. The light gave substance to the dragon, and the dragon gave meaning to the light.

"Is it the lighthouse?"

Alan muttered to himself, was the light that was always mentioned in the previous messages the lighthouse? It could be that it was that structure he had to search in the Black Sea, during his trial.

Alan shrugged his shoulders, scratching his head, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Well, guess I’ll find out later."

He didn’t find anything in the central church, but everything else should hold some clue. He had more places to look for as well, the city still held a lot more clues. Before embarking on the trial to sail the Black Sea, there was still a lot more he needed to know.

Valus was the light for a vast majority of the universe, and many sought him, and although Alan wasn’t as religious as everyone else who did so, he did have a reason as good as them to search for the elusive dragon.

Soon, he’ll find out what exactly he is, he wasn’t expecting much but... He hoped it would give him purpose in life.

Up till now, he didn’t really have a concrete reason to continue doing what he was doing. He was already stronger than all awakened cadets, and even back on Earth, he was one of the strongest there was.

If he went all out, even Arken and Oliver would find it hard to keep Alan down at this point. He was strong, but why? He didn’t have a reason to continue doing what he was.

Furthermore, he didn’t have a strong desire to explore the universe, he didn’t have a strong desire to protect Earth from the Abyss. He just lived day to day, continuing to suffer from those dreams of his.

He was living listlessly, unaware of what he was, what he was supposed to do, and what he should be doing at the moment. The trials had steered him in some direction... But in the end.

He was still hollow from the inside, no determination, no will... Just following the series of events that occurred and doing his best, a vessel that had nothing to steer it.

But maybe, maybe if he figured out the exact reasons for his birth, the details behind it all, the machinations that followed.

He’ll gain purpose, perhaps.

That was the rope he had been clinging on to, and Alan had grown tired a long time ago.