The Unrivaled Holder - Season 1

Chapter 11: The Continent of Adventurers: Asnor

If you are saying that it will take some of my life force just to heal you completely, It won't be a problem so long as I can help. Don't die on me again! << Draconic Sacrifice >>

Draconic Sacrifice : This Ancient Spell allows the user to unleash a powerful surge of healing energy that can restore an entire group of allies or heal devastating wounds. However, it draws deeply from the user's life force and vitality.

Toll:

Physical Exhaustion: The user experiences extreme fatigue, reducing their physical capabilities for a significant time afterward.

Life Force Drain: The user sacrifices a portion of their maximum health, which takes time to recover. This can lead to potential long-term effects, such as weakened constitution or vulnerability to illnesses.

Rejuvenation Aftermath: The healing energy is so potent that it leaves the user in a weakened state, forcing them to rest and recover for days or even weeks.

As the magic surged through me, I felt the weight of ages press upon my shoulders. I have closed my eyes, focusing my intent on channeling the draconic essence towards Fafnir's dying body. But with each passing moment, while using the Draconic Sacrifice, I felt my life force being taken away, as if my soul was being drawn into the spell. Beads of sweat formed on my brow, my breath quickening in rhythm with Fafnir's steadying heartbeat. I gritted my teetth against the mounting pain, a reminder of the balance I am disrupting.

"Tsk! I never imagine this being so hard!" I muttered nervously while feeling the drawbacks already

While weakened, Fafnir glared at me and said, "Crai-gg, stop this, please. You know what are the drawbacks, right?!"

While fighting with Ingi, the demon can't do anything but to witness craig using an Ancient Spell as the demon is currently occupied fighting Ingi "That imbecile, human!"

"Human.. please don't die" Ingi muttered

After a few minutes struggling controlling the magicore, I have finally settled it down and I withdraw my hands from Fafnir's now-healed body while he layed on the ground. While looking at Fafnir, he stirred, his eyelids fluttering open to gaze upon me with gratitude and wonder. " You saved me, Craig. What a pain in the ass. heh." he murmured, his voice barddely a whisper yet filled with profound emotion."You are welcome, partner. After that, I felt unconscious as well, leaving Ingi on the battelfield battling the demon.

After several hours :

As consciousness slowly returned, I felt a haze lifting from my mind. My eyes fluttered open to unfamiliar surroundings—a soft glow filtering through the curtains of a modest bedroom. I blinked, trying to recall how I had ended up here, but the memories were fuzzy, obscure by the remnants of exhaustion and the lingering echo of the ancient spell.

A movement at my side drew my attention—a figures seated nearby, watching mewith a mixture of relief and concern. It was Fafnir and Ingi, my friends whose life I had fought so hard to preserve.

"You are awake," Fafnir said softly, his voice carrying hint of emotion. "We were worried there for a moment. You have pushed yourself to an extent, Kid. Ingi added

I managed a weak smile, my throat dry from the exertion. "How long was I out? and where are we? Where's the demon? " I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Fafnir reached for a glass of water on the bedside table, offering it to me. "Long enough for us to recover" He reassured me. "We are in Asnor, land of adventures and my father managed to deal a great damage to that demon and that made us escape from him and travelled here using my father's teleportation magic."

I nodded gratefully, taking small sips of the cool water to soothe my parched throat. Memories of the healing ritual began to flood back—the surge of ancient power, the toll it had taken on me. Yet, seeing them face filled with gratitude made it all worthwhile.

"I see.. I-I'm glad you're okay" I managed to say, my voice is much steadier now.

We sat in companionable silence for a moment, the weight of our shared ordeal hanging in the air. Outside, the sounds of the guild bustling about their daily routines drifted through the open window, a reminder of the world beyond this quiet sanctuary.

I then glanced up at the ceiling, feeling a sense of peace settle over me. Despite the risks and uncertainties, I knew I had done the right thing. The bond between me and them, forged through trials and magic, had only grown stronger.

As I closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift back into much-needed rest, I then felt a deep-seated satisfaction. For in that quiet bedroom, surrounded by the echoes of healing and the warmth of friendship, I knew that some sacrifices were worth making—for the sake of those we hold dear.

"I think he is okay now, he just needed rest." Ingi reassured Fafnir.

"I think so too, Father." Fafnir agrees

"I just do not know why he was capable of doing it, regardless of him receiving your dragon soul, it should not be that easy and knowing that it was his first time doing that, it's basically telling us that there's something more in him that we or I do not know."

"I just told him that spell but I did not anticipate him using it, Father."

"I know. And I really found it weird"

"What weird, Father?"

"Him not receiving a life-threatening condition such as curse or what. He could have received a really bad drawback there. Instead, he only exhaust himself. What a strange human."

"Instead, I received a curse from that demon. heh. fucking demon"

"That's a stigmata. That means that so long as you have this, you are bound to get killed by them. We must get rid of that ASAP."

"This is my first time hearing about this one, Father. Besides, where should we remove this?"

"We just have to meet him."

"Him?"

"Zarathorak, the Bloodweaver."

"The blood dragon?!"

"Yes. This curse leaves us no choice but to rely on your younger brother"

"Damn it. That bastard"

Zarathorak the Bloodweaver : Zarathorak the Bloodweaver is a fearsome Blood Dragon known for its mastery of dark and ancient blood magic. Its scales are a deep, rich crimson, almost appearing to be soaked in blood, with veins of dark energy pulsating visibly beneath the surface. Glowing runes, inscribed in a language lost to time, adorn its scales, enhancing its formidable presence.

This dragon possesses the ability to manipulate blood itself, using it both as a weapon and a source of power. Its breath unleashes torrents of dark crimson energy that can drain life from its enemies or empower its own attacks. Zarathorak is a cunning and strategic fighter, often using its blood magic to ensnare and weaken opponents before delivering devastating strikes.

Despite its sinister reputation, Zarathorak is not purely malevolent; it has been known to forge alliances with those who can offer it knowledge or artifacts of ancient power. However, crossing paths with Zarathorak is always a perilous endeavor, as its mastery of blood magic makes it one of the most formidable adversaries in the skies.