The Draconian of Dicathen

Reunited

Arthur continued on the linear path, but Tess was never found, he continued to zip through until he eventually returned back to the outskirts of Bedrock Gorge. Shit, she was probably recaptured. His callused feet pressed down on the dirt beneath him with each step as he began to approach the entrance. However, no one was standing on guard, in fact, it was a blood bath. Two of the guards lied dead along the walls of the entrance, what looked to be arrows punctured inside of their torsos. He crouched for a closer look, extracting the arrow from the dead soldier, the tip was lavished in a thick dark red but the base of the arrow was decorated with nature. Based on tropes he read about through books as a child, it looked as if it came from the elves of Ellenoir. 

He dropped the arrow in favor of a broadsword, augmenting himself with mana mixed with his draconic physiology to have the sword weigh as light as a feather, allowing him to swing and maneuver with the blade with little to no effort. In case the sword was too fragile for his strength, he enhanced the blade with mana as well. He dashed inside, more bodies passed by him, a few of them looked to be elven militia. Looks like the elves already passed through here, guess their hideout wasn't as secretive as I thought. Tess, please be okay.

Arthur passed through several corridors following the trail of bodies, though a slight ringing terminated his train of thought as the ringing grew more diverse into that of actual comprehensive words, it was Sylvie. 

"Sylvie? Can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Papa! I'm in a room that must be close by since we can hear each other again!"

The boy didn't even hesitate as he trailed off from the hallway of bodies, he could begin to feel the connection grow more pronounced the closer he got, in this game of hot and cold all he had to do was trust the bond between the both of them. 

Elder Virion POV

"How much does that make now?"

Elder virion clad in his battle armor raced down the hallway with his assigned squadron, each of them handled the slavers with ease, enough to barely break the flow of speed at which they were racing down through Bedrock Gorge. One of his men answered his question.

"Until they're all lying in their own blood it won't ever be enough sir, damn humans."

Elder Virion nodded.

"We've already planned out the layout so we should be close to where they hold the slaves, and if we're lucky, that's where my granddaughter is."

They all continued to race their way towards the living quarters of the slaves. They arrived and sure enough, Virion's aura grew more intense upon observing the living conditions they were placed in, the thought of his granddaughter living the same way drove him over his own logical thinking, entirely replaced with emotion. His aura simmered down a bit as he began to infuse his mana into the prison bars, shattering them as he trailed down the long line of slave cells. 

Once he finished across, observing each cell and who's in it, Tess was never found in there. After letting the slaves free his squadron and himself continued down whichever corridor, eliminating each foe that gets in between them and Virion's granddaughter. 

"Check up on the other squadrons, we should be close to eliminating them entirely."

They each nodded in agreement and that's when Virion activated phase 2 of his beast will with the Shadow Panther, vanishing his presence and split from the rest of his squad. The rest of them split off down individual hallways to meet up with other squadrons to update them on Tessia's disappearance among the other slaves. 

Virion continued until he eventually reached an entrance with a crisp ashen door fallen to the side. Curiosity took over and he began to investigate. The wooden door was freshly set ablaze, there was an attack within recently. He peeked inside, there stood Alacandraz in his dominating physique, he held in his hands a massive broadsword decorated with metal skulls engraved into the middle of the blade, the handle had wrapping hanging loosely passed his fists clenched tightly. What stood before him, black scales dressed graciously across the skin of mighty muscle. Wings that splayed themselves out gloriously as the pitch-black feathers swayed through the air with a dense sharpness to them. Horns that sprouted from the head of the beast radiated with phenomenal intensity. And eyes that pierced through the very souls of those who meet its gaze, it was a real dragon.