Death's Successor Completed.

Chapter Twenty-Three Powers Awakened Racheal's POV

Racheal meditated on the back of . She tried to clear her mind before the ominous hunt. His gleaning wings made a beat each time they moved. Racheal inhaled and exhaled, her mind clamming.
cleared his throat. Gaining Racheal's attention, she stroked his scales with her gloved hand; they had been flying till drawn, Ignatius yawned finding a safe patch concealing themselves in a vegetated part of the Swamplands.
"Is something on your mind?" Racheal asked. She scratched his snout in concern. "Yes, but your blood shows one of your ancestors were dragon skins imbued with elemental power, the Iron swamplands holes the mysteries of the dragon skins. Please be careful on the hunt, Racheal. I'll survey things from the sky," Ignatius said.

He hovered above Racheal, the exotic plants ruffled against the ice dragon wings. He disappeared into the grey sky.
Racheal stared into the thick, growing trees, towing above her lush and vibrant green vines winding down from the trees. Racheal removed her blade. Slashing a pathway through the rare plants. Images flickered in her mind. She saw the ghosts of her killed guild mates stomping through the swamp.

Their memories guided her through the deepest parts of the swamp. She reached the entanglements of massive roots. Underneath a deep pond, the black indigo water bubbled with activity.

Racheal's heart pounded as her boots connected with the moss and tree roots. She gulped, a primal fear of hers became tearing through the surface of her conscious. She never returned to the Iron Swamplands since the tragedy during her younger years.
The humid air gave birth to various bugs and the annoying bite of thousands of mosquitoes. Racheal slammed her neck against her sweating neck. She drank from her waterskin, trying to cool her body down.

She slid the waterskin on her belt; the roots shook with movement from the lake beneath. Racheal stumbled backwards, failing on her ass. She stared down, seeing spines above the surface, the chirps of crickets and wildlife moved around the swamplands. Racheal covered her ears crouching on her knees.
Her breathing became erratic. She tried blocking out the intrusive memories. A growl drowned out the local wildlife, the wind ruffled the trees, spooking the birds. Racheal glanced around, searching for the sound.

Racheal jumped down towards the next cluster of roots travelling along their study structure. The moss released foul smelling spores. Racheal covered her mouth. The swamplands were vast, and without knowing the terrain, unsuspecting people would get lost. Racheal approached the lake.
The spines on the dragon's back shifted, producing a soft rustling sound. Racheal crouched down low, her muscles tensed and ready for action. As the colossal body of the swamp dragon rose from the trembling ground, the earth shook violently, sending shockwaves through the air. Racheal could hear the dragon's deep breaths as its massive body loomed over her. The lake beside them exposed the dragon's enormous form, and the water lapped gently against its clawed feet, sending ripples across the surface. The smell of damp earth mixed with the musky scent of the dragon, causing Racheal's nostrils to flare. She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she prepared for the fight of her life.

Fear caused her body to freeze. The swamp dragon's swishing tail crushed the root cluster above the creature's head, smashing the sturdy bridge to pieces. The fearsome dragon hissed, tasting the air with the serpent's forked tongue. He rose, his head catching a scent, its nostrils flared, blowing smoke rings above the hardwoods.

Racheal inhaled. Crawling on her exposed waist, she crunched moist leaves under her weighted dragon scale amour. Wet leaves stuck against her exposed skin; orange fiery eyes burned into the experienced mercenary's back. Racheal's waver locks blew in the warm breeze. She froze, her next breath stuck in her throat.
Racheal blitzed into the dense pants, trying to conceal her scent. The raw mud hid her scent. The dragons' emerald wings blocked out the harsh sunlight, casting shadows over the plants until boiling scorching water tore down. Hardwoods standing alone, clearing a part of the swamp.