The ruin swallowed him whole. Inside, the place was not carved stone but a cavern grown from fossil and scale. Ribs coiled upward to form archways. Vertebrae stacked into pillars. The walls themselves shimmered faintly, as though scales had been melted into rock long ago, their edges catching what little light bled through the runes.

The deeper Artorius pressed, the more the air changed. Dust gave way to smoke. Smoke to whispers. He could not place them at first, faint hisses at the edge of thought, the flutter of half-heard words. Then came the shapes. Shadows stretched too long across the wall. Outlines of dragons clawed and coiled, though no carving lay where the light touched. He tried to ignore it, tried not to listen. But the ruin wasn’t having it. 

The first trap came as he stepped across a shallow dais, the stone patterned with spirals of scales. A single touch sent the spirals grinding inward. The floor shifted. Dozens of stone fangs erupted upward, snapping like a jaw. He hurled himself forward, the fangs missing his leg by inches, but the tip of one sliced his thigh as it closed.

Further in, a mural caught his eye, a dragon carved with wings spread, though its head had been gouged out. For a moment it seemed no more than ruin, until the hollowed eyes flared with ember light. He blinked and the whole mural shifted. Its claws reached from the wall, stone scraping against stone, grasping for him. He tore free from whatever that was. His breath came ragged. The murals sank back into silence, but the whispers continued.

Then the chamber opened. It was vast, ceilings lost in shadow, walls ribbed with fossilized scales and great pillars that held it all. In the center lay the guardian. It looked half dead, a large meaty creature who was sickly pale with countless scars running across its body, and wings ragged and rotting like banners long forgotten.

[Cavern Drake — Level 8]

Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/212443307416862048/

It was the most powerful creature that Artorius had run into so far, and it looked the part when he stepped forward and its eyes lit. Twin furnaces of molten gold that were milky white and filled with cataracts stirred awake. It moved. Dust shaking, stones rumbling. The whole hall trembled as the creature lurched to life, its maw splitting wide, grinding rows of teeth whirring into motion. Sparks cascaded as the bone-blades roared to speed.

The dragon creature came on like a storm. Artorius dove aside as the beast charged, the floor erupting behind him in a spray of stone dust. The razor sharp claws carved a trench where he had stood, sparks spraying like meteors.

He staggered up, clutching the needle-lance not noticing the follow up that came. The dragon spun, tail sweeping wide. The serrated edge caught him across the back, tearing cloth and skin alike. He went down hard, teeth cracking against the stone. His vision burst white.

The beast was already upon him. It didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pause. Artorius rolled but too late. The claws clipped his thigh. Flesh shredded. Blood poured down his leg, hot and blinding. He screamed, but the cry betrayed him further.

The guardian heard. It roared back, an ear splitting shriek that shook the chamber, then lunged again, jaws opening wide. Bone-teeth spun like a grinder. He thrust the lance upward, catching the maw before it closed upon him.

Thankfully the attack made the creature recoil back as it suffered a gash upon its mouth which had to be annoying due to how it roared in pain. However he did end up being left weaponless when it pulled away taking his weapon as it now was stuck in its mouth leaving him in a very precarious situation.

He staggered backward, weaponless, body screaming. The dragon tilted its head honing in on him as its maw opened wide ready to devour him whole. And then Artorius saw it. The pillars. The chamber was lined with them, vast columns holding the ceiling aloft. Already cracked, already leaning.

He bellowed, a hoarse cry that ripped his throat raw. The sound echoed, bouncing from wall to wall. The dragon snapped its head, locking onto him, and charged. At the last instant, he dove aside. The beast slammed into a pillar. The stone cracked and the column shuddered. 

Again he screamed, taunting, drawing it forward. Again it lunged. Another pillar shattered. Dust rained from above. The ceiling groaned. The guardian reared, blind eyes burning, and screamed back. Then it charged one final time.

Artorius hurled himself flat as the dragon plowed into the largest pillar at the chamber’s heart. The column snapped. The ceiling roared. Stone cascaded in an avalanche. Pillars toppled one after another, falling like giant slain. The dragon shrieked as the tomb came down, its shrieks drowned beneath the thunder of collapsing stone. Its body thrashed and its claws scrabbled before it vanished beneath the ruin.

Artorius crawled to his knees, lungs heaving, dust choking his throat. His hands trembled. His body was carved with wounds, each breath a knife. The ruin was quiet now, save for the settling groans of broken stone. Where the guardian had stood, only rubble remained, chains jutting from the debris like severed veins.

He waited for the words: the pale blue flare that always came when the System marked a kill. But none came and he knew the fight was not over. Steeling himself, he went over to the ruble and peaked at the drake underneath.

It looked helpless as it was weakly breathing, close to death as its skull caved in on one side, jaw hanging broken and limbs twisted into grotesque shape. “Well hello there,” he purred. Mercy has long been purged from him, after having spent days here he was more akin to these creatures that made their home here.

Pulling his lance free, he got to the grisly work of finishing it off for good. He only stopped hacking it to death when he got a message from the system.  [You have slain Cavern Drake — Lv. 8]

Also his good work seemed to be rewarded as he finally crossed the edge; Congratulations! You have leveled up.

Class: [Storybook Squire] has reached level 2 – Stat points allocated, +1 Str, +1 Con, +1 Will, +1 Char, +1 Luc!

Artorius slid from the carcass, his body trembling. For a long time, he just lay there on the broken stone, chest heaving. But the need always returned. Hunger gnawed at him. His wounds burned. His hands shook as he gathered splinters of broken pillar. 

A fire bloomed in the ruin. He carved strips of steaming flesh from the drake’s corpse. The meat was stringy, bitter, stinking of iron and ash. He had grown used to it in these endless days, his body which had at first grew sick and rejected it now had no problem. He figured it was most likely his trait that let him endure the taste and the toxins. Still, he gagged on every bite, chewing, swallowing, forcing it down until the nausea dulled into grim endurance.

The flames hissed in the dark. The carcass steamed. His reflection swam in the drake’s cooling blood. He felt neither triumph nor shame, only survival.

When at last he could stand, he followed the chamber inward. Past broken pillars, past rivers of rubble, until the hall widened. The dust cleared, revealing a dais of obsidian scales fused into the ground. Upon it lay a monstrous shape — colossal, still, eternal. The remains of a great Dragon.