“Your Majesty?”

A strange hollowness seized Caelum Veyne’s heart, as if some vital essence had slipped through his fingers.

Rousing from the fog of his trance, he found the statue silent and, trembling with trepidation, ventured a tentative plea.

Regret clawed at his soul—this sinister path to the hidden vocation bore an ominous weight, heavy with foreboding.

“Devotee, do you crave power?”

Draven Zorathar, having plumbed the depths of the mortal’s memories and unraveled the lore of the Twelve Pillars of Ruin, saw his purpose laid bare.

Pausing for a mere heartbeat, he sent his question through the shadowed ether.

As magic surged,

His ancient, resonant voice wove a seductive thread, laced with the dark allure of a pact with the abyss.

Mindweave magic: Whisper of Allegiance.

This mortal was no mere soul—a wayfarer from the future, a treasure of untold worth.

Draven, the proud and indomitable Lord of Finality, was no fool.

Though players bent easily to his will, he sought an unyielding bond, a safeguard woven deep.

Whisper of Allegiance was no crude domination but a subtle, enduring enchantment, threading devotion, loyalty, and reverence into the soul’s core. It thrived only when the caster’s spirit towered over the target’s—a sacred art wielded by the mighty to bind their faithful.

Draven stood poised to stride into the world, and a devoted servant would pave the way for his dominion.

Power!

…

Yearn for it!

Yearn for power!

I yearn for power!

Answer! Answer now!

A beguiling voice echoed in the depths of Caelum’s soul, urging him toward his fate.

Yet, a faint premonition of dread stirred, a shadow whispering caution in his heart.

“Yes, Your Majesty, grant me power unrivaled in this world!”

This was his quest, the fire that had driven him to this shadowed altar. Retreat, after such a journey, was unthinkable.

Quelling the unease that gnawed within, he gave his resolute answer.

In the instant of his vow,

A torrent of fervor and exultation surged through his being.

Once, he had merely admired the statue’s might, his deference a hollow mask. As a player, he held no true reverence for this boss, this NPC. In his heart, players reigned supreme, and for power or profit great enough, he would cast aside this fearsome Lord of Finality without a backward glance.

But now, inexplicably, the statue’s presence swelled within him, ascending to a divine eminence.

Reverence, admiration, trust…

A maelstrom of emotions churned, and faintly, he felt the mantle of a true devotee settle upon his soul.

“Your Majesty, I offer you my all!”

Unbidden, a fervent oath tore from his heart, raw and unshackled.

Clasping his hands, he bowed in fervent devotion, his soul laid bare before the altar.

…

Power was no trifling gift, no boon lightly bestowed.

Caelum’s every gesture unfolded before Draven’s piercing gaze.

The dragon inclined his head, a glint of satisfaction shimmering in his ancient eyes.

Raising a claw,

His massive, razor-sharp talon carved through the ether with effortless grace.

Magic surged, space trembled,

And a rift tore open in the void, a wound in the fabric of reality.

From some hidden trove, he drew an ancient scale and cast it into the breach.

In that same instant,

In Caelum’s shadowed realm,

A rift sundered the air, and a massive ebon scale, etched with intricate arcane sigils, emerged from the void.

The scale pulsed with an aura of omen, dark and foreboding.

Its labyrinthine patterns shimmered with a spectral violet glow, casting an eerie light through the gloom.

Mysterious, perilous.

Name: Scale of Calamity

Rank: ???

Description: Fear, ruin, corruption, despair! An ancient scale of the Worldbreaker, imbued with the dread power to corrode all.

The item’s attributes blazed before Caelum’s eyes.

Power!

This was the power he had sought!

His gaze burned with fervent zeal as he reached out to claim it.

But the moment his fingers brushed the scale, it shrank to the size of a mere grain, then streaked into his wrist as a blinding flash, too swift for mortal eyes to follow.

This…

Caelum’s eyes widened, his breath snared in his throat.

Before he could comprehend,

A searing energy erupted from his wrist, coursing through his veins like wildfire.

Ordinary, ordinary!

His heart thundered, a frenzied drumbeat.

Heat!

Heat!

Heat!

His body burned as if cast into a crucible, his blood molten lava searing through his veins.

Then, his form began to shift.

His stature surged skyward, muscles swelling with primal might.

A pair of dragon horns sprouted from his brow, proud and unyielding, while layer upon layer of sleek, ebon scales cloaked his skin.

Deep, enigmatic, radiant with power.

His eyes flickered, transforming into sharp, needle-like vertical pupils, glinting with otherworldly menace.

His presence—

His very aura transfigured in that instant!

Heavy, terrifying, a storm of dread incarnate!

Once an unremarkable mortal, he now stood reborn as a formidable draconid, a herald of ruin.