Dallion quickly cast an illusion to hide his level. Supposedly, there were no mages in the current party, but even so he couldn’t take the chance—there was no telling what artifacts they were equipped with.

In a single instant, the territory that Dallion controlled had increased five times, effectively putting him in control of the largest domain within the empire by far. The Order of the Seven Moons had been very devious with the territories they had given. On the surface, it was nothing more than five monasteries, among hundreds. Those five monasteries, however, came with territories that extended from the eastern borders of the Tamin empire all the way to the ocean, not to mention a small chunk of Wetie province. The latter was what Dallion considered the second most disturbing occurrence. Receiving control of Nerosal so soon after the civil war in the province was hazardous to say the least. He strongly suspected that was the reason the archbishop had given it to him. Even if Dallion were to deny it, no one would believe he wasn’t making a go at the archduke title. Some might even accuse him of going against the throne.

You were right, great-grandma, Dallion said to himself. They’ve forced my hand.

Thankfully, there were still a few moves he could make.

The greatest concern on the matter, of course, remained his current level. From what he remembered of his brief interactions with the emperor, the man had a level of a hundred and twenty. Could it be that thanks to the archbishop’s generous donation, he had surpassed Tamin?

That’s wishful thinking, dear boy. Adzorg sounded rather amused. Keep in mind that the emperor rules over the archdukes. Your domain might be large, but it’s less than all of theirs combined.

There was no denying that, yet Dallion vividly remembered what he had seen. The only explanation could be that the emperor was hiding his real level as well.

It was unusually good for the Order to give the support they promised, the old mage continued. In my experience, they exclusively rely on promises. Would have been a lot more useful if they had provided the territory while you were actually facing the nymphs, of course.

Harp, Dallion said within his domain. Where’s the grand citadel?

The one I knew was a few eras back, the harpsisword guardian replied.

The Order of the Seven Moons rests on tradition. Where is it?

On an island in the ocean. You can only reach it by boat or swimming.

Or flying, Dallion added.

“There’ve been other sightings,” Astra told Abla. “Single dragonlets most of the time. Pierce says he found a big one, but I doubt it was any bigger than ours.”

“Over two dozen dragonlets,” the noble mused. “That’s too many.”

“What do you expect when you have a pair of dragons that fly through domains?” the Count asked. “It’s a wonder we didn’t come across them sooner.”

“Yes, a real wonder… Dal, found anything?”

“Yep,” Dallion replied. Gleam had taken him to a spot which had a distinct presence of magic, as if the ground itself had recently soaked off some from a magic container.

A sudden idea came to mind, making Dallion summon his aetherizer. The device functioned as an advanced vortex finder, but given that dragons were largely magic, it was also possible that it might find them as well.

Would you look at that?

Three dots appeared. In terms of vortex strength, they were barely more than a level one—the type found in the Academy sewers—but they were there.

“There are a few this way,” Dallion said. “Thirty, maybe forty miles.” Dallion put the device away.

“A few dragons,” Tors snorted. “Let’s hope they aren’t bigger than the last bunch.”

It was decided not to use magic to reach the destination, so as not to raise suspicion. By the time they got there, Dallion’s suspicions were confirmed. A total of three dragons—between a dragonlet and an adolescent dragon—were found fighting one another amid a series of strange rock formations. The fight must have been going on for a while, for scales were scattered on the ground. Just as the creatures before, these seemed feral, incapable of flight and magic.

The resulting attack was brief and non-consequential. Dallion and Tors bound the creatures with music and magic, while Abla, Astra and the Count directly went for the dragons’ eyes. Interestingly enough, the creatures’ bodies also evaporated in a cloud of magic.

“How many do you think there are?” Dallion asked.

“Hundreds likely.” Abla shrugged. “The mages must have disrupted something, causing the weaklings to spill throughout the area.”

“You’re not buying the archmage’s report, I take it?”

“He’s an Academy mage,” Abla said in the tone reserved for addressing bad pets. “They overestimated themselves, underestimated the situation, and we got this. There’s a reason Academy mages aren’t invited to the Order. The last thing we need are maniacs who think they’re all-powerful.”

That sounded like the perfect description of most mages Dallion had seen, unfortunately. Naturally, he chose not to point out that technically, he too was an Academy mage.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

With the trio of dragons gone, everyone split into instances to search for clues again. To little surprise, a clue was found. To everyone’s astonishment, it was Tors who found it. He was the only sheltered among the group, yet as luck would have it, the only piece of scenery out of place happened to be in his slice of exploration; namely, the base of a column barely visible beneath the moss that covered it.

Normally, finding a past age ruin, even in this desolate location, wouldn’t be unusual. With five past eras, it was expected to have buildings scattered about indiscriminately. What was different on this occasion was the size of the column base — stretching dozens of feet across. The sheer massiveness was the initial reason it had been mistaken for a part of the terrain. When Tors had reached the edge, though, he had spotted the faint regular curve, and after removing a bit of moss—the obvious difference of material.

The moment he saw it, Dallion immediately made the connection. This wasn’t a structure created by any of the seven races; it had to be built by the creatures that were in the world before—colossi.

“It’s dead,” Tors said. “I checked its awakening realm. What do you think it is?”

“There isn’t supposed to be anything this far north.” Astra turned to Abla.

“It’s not nymph, that’s for sure,” he said, avoiding the question. “Doesn’t look dryad, either. Might have been copyette.”

The Count visibly reacted, though didn’t say a word. Any experienced hunter had gone through enough wilderness ruins to know the basic racial architectures. Barely anything remained from the column, but even looking it at it was clear that it didn’t belong to any race.

“Must have been a marker column.” Dallion joined in the game. “There’d be more if it were a building.”

“Maybe.” Abla scratched his chin. “Might have something to do with the Star.”

“Is that why it was forbidden to go scavenging this far?”

“No, that was the Seven Moons’ request.”

Dallion didn’t expect such an answer.

“The Order has monasteries here?” he asked.

“Their Order refused to set foot this far north. There was some long understanding with the first emperor that anything north of the capital was to be left alone. That changed throughout the centuries, but there’s still a lot. Seeing that there’s nothing valuable here, there wasn’t any reason to fight the Seven Moons for it.”

Is that true? Dallion asked within his domain.

Somewhat, Adzorg replied. The emperor did discourage any exploration in the north, although it was never strictly forbidden. At least for mages. I was never interested in the area myself. There were some scholars interested in the topic, but there were useless academics in many fields.

“Can the dragons have been living here?” Dallion approached the base of the column.

“Doubtful,” the Count said. “There would have been earlier sightings.”

“Dragons tend to like being left alone.”

“Dragons that spawn hundreds of offspring don’t.”

There was no way to confirm any of the theories. From what Dallion remembered, magic creatures used to exist a lot in past eras. Back when the Purple and Green Moons were visible to all, dragons, cloud creatures, even aether beings were something natural. Even all the way to the dryad era, there were plenty of them in the wilderness, although by that time creatures of pure magic had diminished, giving rise to the magical hybrids.

Gleam? Dallion asked.

The place is empty; the shardfly replied. I wouldn’t go here even if I was chased. There’s no way a dragon would willingly live here, let alone mate. The south is a lot better.

“I’ll go in to check,” Dallion said and before anyone could stop him, placed his hand on a bare part of the column.

AREA AWAKENING

The familiar green rectangle emerged.

You are in the land of [SPIRE]

The land’s destiny cannot be fulfilled.

“Spire?” Dallion looked closely at the second rectangle. The name wasn’t supposed to be surrounded by brackets.

Thinking back, something similar had happened when defeating the colossus that came to the real world. His achievement had been covered by a layer of darkness that changed the text. Supposedly, that was due to the void that had partially made its way into Dallion’s realm, but was that the whole truth? If the colossi were awakened, they could well have means to hide any information on the rectangles, same as mages could do now.

Spark. Dallion tapped on the name of the land.

The moment he did, the rectangle shattered, as was its usual behavior. As far as one could tell, the name had remained unchanged.

“That would have been too easy,” Giaccia said, emerging a few feet away from Dallion in her nymph form.

“It usually is.”

“Because it’s a fragment,” she added.

“A fragment?”

“Not all realms shatter once they are destroyed.”

That was very true. Dallion had forgotten that the remains of Gleam’s home remained in his personal realm long after the whip blade had been shattered. Only when she had returned and the item was restored did the bridge connecting the main piece of land to the Vermillion islands become restored.

“The realm is linked to something else,” he said, looking around.

In typical colossus fashion, the surrounding realm was a combination of mountains and clouds. The difference was that unlike during his early awakening trials, Dallion was at the foot of a mountain, not on the top of it.

“This isn’t a pillar, it’s a building column. The column just isn’t here.”

The nymph nodded.

“Then let’s find if the link is still active.”

Even with magic and combat splitting, exploring the realm took days. Despite the atmosphere of serenity that was created, there was no getting away from the sense of emptiness. Dallion understood all too well what Gleam meant when she said she’d prefer not to live in an area such as this. The ground, the rock, even the clouds and the air emanated lifelessness. They didn’t reject Dallion’s presence as the world of furies had, but rather just refused to interact with him in any way. The only way he could describe it was like living on Mars. Even worse, when night fell, he had to sleep beneath a moonless, starless sky.

Remnants of a link were eventually found, though it had been severed, preventing Dallion from venturing onwards. That didn’t stop him from meddling a bit with the cluster of magic threads, though to no avail. What he did manage to discover during his attempts was that the Count was mistaken—the dragons were linked to the ruin. A few strands of magic had somehow gotten entangled with those of the realm link and managed to sustain themselves on its power.

“A realm of dragons,” Dallion said. “Gleam, looks like you’ll get your wish.”