The Divine Dragon. The only true god left in this world. There were others, once. But that was ages ago, time long lost to history. Now, to the many races of this world, he is Alpha and Omega. The one and only. All life coming into being does so with his blessing. All life meets him when their time comes. And in the time leading up to that fateful meeting, as broken souls devoid of meaning, they do not dissipate into the ether, they sink down. Down into the depths on the earth, and towards his domain.

Stores tell of daring adventurers embarking on epic quests to find the deity. To petition him for a boon, whether in a mad bid for power or a desperate attempt to bring a loved one back to the realm of the living. For this they would journey deep into the earth, to the heart of the world.

These tales tell of people enduring the suffocating darkness of the underground, the meandering and claustrophobic caves, and unforgiving monsters and guardians down into Purgatory. Though always left out were how they found a direct entrance on the surface, or how they knew the path down. Brave and foolhardy alike seemed to just have a calling drawing them into the caverns below. Inviting them to the depths. Regardless, it is a story told around the world. Though the players and obstacles different every time, but always following the same pattern. Over time, each little corner of the world had something similar. An individual or group of supplicants finding a path downward and going forth in a bid to have their wish granted.

Some return with the god’s blessing and establish a church in his name. Others find themselves ill suited for the journey and quit part way. However, the majority of these petitioners will find their way to Purgatory though not in the way they intended. They fail on their quest, their transient, mortal bodies finding rest kilometers beneath the earth. The rest of the way continued as a soul. Ever downward. Always downward.

It is through those abyssal depths that one may venture into Purgatory, where the dragon is, overlooking the deceased as they are purified and enter the cycle of reincarnation. Though that was not to say the deity’s domain was dark. For the deity’s scales shined with a resplendent light, serving as a beacon ensuring that no soul is ever truly lost. To them, it is a warm and inviting light, guiding them to their next life.

Upon arrival, however, these recently deceased are subjected to a less than pleasant experience. Though describing one’s very existence being washed away as an unpleasant experience would be an understatement no matter how one frames it. From the madding decay into mindlessness to the feeling of pieces of oneself slowly slipping away. Even the most suicidal of souls would be desperate for another chance at life. However, by that point it was far too late for the dead to be having second thoughts.

For the deity’s body was vast and winding, like a serpent, wrapping the entirety of Purgatory. His wings folded around over his body, enveloping it, serving as a second barrier, ensuring that no wayward soul ever has a chance to escape once they enter.

Yet despite this dragon’s immense power and control, he is currently the most agitated being in the world. Not even studying the souls in his domain, his singular obsession, could distract him from his worries right now.

Status

Name: Parasmus Luce d’Chthondaria

Titles: Expand?

Age: 120,173

Total Level: 2005

Mana: 985,988

Attributes:

Expand?

Race: Divine Dragon

Skills: Expand?

Domain: Light, Souls

Main Class: Shining Guardian of Purgatory

Skills: Expand?

Subclass 1: Custodian of Lost Souls

Skills: Expand?

Subclass 2: Archmage of Light

Skills: Expand?

General Skills:

Expand?

Condition: Contract, Blessing, Champion, Marked

Divine Dragon Parasmus felt something was out of place just now. A glance at his status quickly confirmed his suspicions. Just a moment ago, he felt something take hold on his soul. So quickly it was applied and so quickly was it masked that he’d almost thought he’d imagined it. Almost.

Despite the mark concealing itself, he was still able to decipher parts of it. Not very much, but enough to get a general understanding. The mark’s structure had a “tether”, and the “body” of the mark, while still inactive, or perhaps waiting for a signal, were aspects regarding “channeling” and “transition”.

The first part was rather simple, though also strange. Why would someone cast a spell that allowed the target to figure out where the caster was once they figured it out? Of course he wasn’t able to tell exactly where, but the tether was like a taut string, just waiting for the person on the other side to pull.

Maybe it’s the “signal” for the spell to actually trigger?

The destination was obfuscated, but he was able to tell it was leading to somewhere on the surface. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t comforted by the idea that the opponent wasn’t some higher dimensional being that just happened to take interest in him. He had a fighting chance and wasn’t put up against some impossibly powerful higher being. Though it also indicated the opponent had carefully planned this and already had a staging ground on this world.

These latter two gave the impression of some occult sacrificial ritual, one set out to transmute the soul into an offering. Another interpretation would be likening it to the creation of a philosopher’s stone. Though this mark was markedly different from either of the two. For one, the scope of the magic was far beyond the abilities of some cultish gathering or adept alchemist. While it was better than getting blindsided by whatever this spell intended, these findings were hardly heartening to say the least

Though the main difference being that the bulk of it was too complex for him to decipher. Alchemy he knew. Souls he knew. This was something else entirely, yet paradoxically deeply rooted in the two. Careful study was required.

Yet based on that little bit he figured out, time was of the essence. He didn’t have the time to sit around studying the thing. Someone had him marked for death. He wasn’t sure how they went about this, but judging by the mark they had an edge in both mastery and force.

Anxiety. That is the emotion that he is feeling right now. The situation rekindled a sense of fear he’d long forgotten. For the first time since his apotheosis, something had presented a real threat to his life. An unpleasant feeling, a looming dread that won’t go away. Much like when he was but a small fledgeling, merely tens of meters in length from head to tail. Far removed from his current stature, where kilometers would be a more apt standard of measurement.

He’d long clawed his way out of those days of constant struggle, where ever present vigil and paranoia was required. Enemies then were everywhere. Perhaps he’d become too comfortable after undergoing apotheosis. After all, everything became rather black and white after that. He’d go and fight whatever threatened the stability of the world, whether from within or without. The decision for who was a threat, as a result, wasn’t up to him. In less pleasant terms, he was just a dog on a leash, loosed at the world’s whims and commands.

He’d dealt with eldritch incursions, decimated overreaching empires, and extinguished arrogant mortals who would try to steal his station. Much as he loathed the shackles such a position imposed, it still suited his interests. Even if he were not a god of the underworld, he’d still have been holed up somewhere studying souls. That was why he’d never found a problem with accepting the world’s grace.

For the most part, he was left alone. Hardly anyone would bother to fight a god, after all. Any challenges that were rallied against him during his tenure as the world’s only deity were quickly taught a lesson in their own insignificance. What great pride that pushed them to challenge a god for his throne wasn’t backed by enough skill to truly make him worried.

Things were different this time. The enemy hadn’t even made themselves readily apparent. No massive wave of destruction to herald their rise. No grand proclamation to the world of their bid for power and conquest. No great distortion of the laws of the world. Though the mark in and of itself was a sign of the caster’s ambition and arrogance. What else could drive someone to make a god a reagent in their spell?

That was not to say the enemy didn’t deserve credit. Their arrogant behavior was not unfounded. The only reason he even noticed, which subsequently triggered the condition to show on his status, was because he had a deep connection with souls. His proximity to them daily due to his role in the world allowed for this to occur. Had he held dominion over something, anything, else then this looming threat would have gone completely over his head.

Though surely if someone were to target him in this manner they’d have done enough research to understand that he’d find out? Hopefully it was just some arrogant fool and not something too dangerous, though that would be ignorant on his part. Perhaps they knew that there was little he could do about it even if he knew. That would be a very frightening prospect.

After all, the little incident that resulted in his banishment from the living realm happened so long ago. Despite reigning in his genocidal tendencies from his past and when he’d just crossed the threshold and achieved apotheosis, the world was still loath to let him roam the realm of the living freely. Only letting him out when there was a substantial threat to its existence.

Somehow, it hadn’t judged the aggressor as a threat. This is in spite of the being’s blatant attack on him and indication of that being's power in their ability to make such an attack. Even if the world’s consciousness was heavily damaged by the eldritch descent from all those millenia ago, it should have reacted already. In this case, his lack of true agency would be a monumental roadblock to solving this mystery and ridding him of this looming threat.

I only sank a few continents then. Those empires deserved it, too. To think, they’d actually dare to attempt to foil my ascent. What did they expect was going to happen? We had a long standing grudge, sure. But it would have all been in the past after I ascended. We’d be on completely different levels of existence, after all. They escalated the conflict. I just responded when I had the ability to do so. It was a welcome test of my new powers, as well. Sure such a reaction was unbecoming of a “champion of the world”, but chaining me here was too much of an overreaction.

The gargantuan dragon raised his head, the action rousing many a still soul. The few that still retained their consciousness focused on the only change in the environment in a long while. Immediately following this stir, the guardians of the domain, golems made of precious metals and soulstone moved to pacify them.

The god opened his maw and a deep, echoing voice resounded throughout Purgatory,“You can hear me, can’t you? We’re partners. We need each other. No one else is even close to achieving godhood. If whoever has their eyes on me succeeds in whatever they’re planning there won’t be anyone to solve you problems. Even your primitive consciousness should understand that the current situation requires my personal presence, right? So. Let. Me. Through.”

Moments pass.

No response.

Even now, with the threat of extinction looming over his head he still could not ascend directly to the surface and examine the situation himself. Proxies were needed, but it would hardly be strong enough to stop this threat. He wasn’t even sure if he could stop this faceless enemy with his true body, much less an avatar made from the leftovers of passing souls he’d collected over the years.

Even if he were to call up all his faithful for support. While none of them could even hope to match the power of even his avatar, their great number would make for great fodder. Hopefully one of them will stumble upon the threat, as unlikely as it may be.

The confrontation, however, would be his sole responsibility. He'd have to break some rules, and how much of them to forcefully ignore was a problem for when he actually finds this hidden enemy. Mortals couldn’t be counted on in a battle like this. Even the most fanatical and zealous supplicant would be little more than ants if everything went to blows.

The world might shackle him, but he would try. He would not sit here waiting for death to claim him. He would struggle, and rage. Rage against the dying of his light. And if he were destined to die to this foe, they would have to pay dearly for his life, far more than what little of his soul they manage to obtain.