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25.86% Deity of Destruction / Chapter 15: Primordial of Black

Chương 15: Primordial of Black

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Blanc's carefully constructed composure faltered for a split second as the cavern walls shuddered violently. Dust rained down from the obsidian ceiling, and a low rumble echoed through the chamber, shaking the very table beneath their breakfast plates. Veldora, ever the showman, threw his head back and laughed, a sound that boomed like thunder.

"Looks lively out there!" he bellowed, his golden eyes gleaming with amusement.

Reinhard, however, shot Blanc a questioning glance. "What was that?"

Before Blanc could answer, the tremors intensified, culminating in a deafening CRACK as a section of the obsidian wall near the chamber entrance exploded inwards. A torrent of dust and debris filled the air, momentarily obscuring the source of the destruction.

Then, from the swirling cloud, emerged a whirlwind of blonde hair and golden energy. Jaune, the Primordial of Yellow, stood amidst the wreckage of the wall, her short, bristling with chaotic energy. She wore a simple black skirt and a yellow leather jacket, the outfit a stark contrast to the formal attire of the others. A broad, savage grin split her face, revealing a set of sharpened canines.

"Well, well, well," she boomed, her voice dripping with sardonic amusement. "Looks like the party's already started! Did someone forget to send out an invitation?"

The dust settled, revealing Jaune in all her glory, standing amidst the wreckage of the wall. Her golden eyes, usually filled with a carefree apathy, now sparkled with a predatory gleam.

Blanc rose to her feet, her silver eyes narrowed in a mixture of annoyance and grudging respect. "Jaune," she greeted coolly. "An…unorthodox entrance."

Jaune let out a hearty laugh. "Just making sure no one dozes off during these oh-so-important meetings, Blanc!" she declared, gesturing towards the ruined wall with a cavalier wave of her hand. "Besides, who needs doors when you have a grand entrance like this?"

Veldora roared with laughter, his amusement clearly contagious. Even Reinhard, despite his usual stoicism, cracked a faint smile at Jaune's theatrics.

Blanc, however, remained unfazed. This was Jaune, after all, a being who thrived on chaos and reveled in a good fight. "Welcome, Jaune," Blanc stated, her voice firm. "It seems the news travels faster than anticipated."

Jaune sauntered towards the table, completely ignoring the destruction she caused. "News of a new face, especially one as powerful as that dragon over there," she said, jabbing a thumb towards Veldora, "travels faster than a demon on a sugar rush!"

Veldora puffed out his chest, clearly enjoying the attention. Reinhard, on the other hand, simply shook his head in exasperation.

"So," Jaune continued, her gaze now fixed on Blanc, "what's the occasion? Are we finally going to have a proper brawl, or are we just going to stand around sipping tea and discussing existential dread?"

Blanc sighed, a hint of weariness creeping into her voice. It seemed a peaceful meeting with the other Primordials was becoming increasingly unlikely.

Jaune's boisterous laughter was abruptly cut short as a high-pitched giggle echoed through the chamber. A streak of violet light shot through the newly created breach in the wall, slamming into the opposite obsidian wall with a sickening thud. Dust rained down once more, obscuring the source of the newest interruption.

As the dust settled, a figure emerged, coughing dramatically and brushing debris off her purple pigtail. Violet, the Primordial of Violet, stood precariously, her porcelain doll-like features twisted in a pout. Her long, flowing dress, the same vibrant violet as her hair, was now adorned with a layer of obsidian dust, and a smear of red marred her cheekbone.

"Oh, how frightfully uncouth, Blanc!" she whined, her voice laced with mock-hurt. "Not inviting your dearest friends to such a delightful gathering? A little warning would have been nice, wouldn't you agree?"

Her gaze flitted across the chamber, landing on Veldora. Her pout instantly morphed into a mischievous grin. "My, my, my," she cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. "A new plaything has arrived, it seems! How exciting!"

Veldora, who had been thoroughly enjoying Jaune's antics, bristled at Violet's words. A vein throbbed on his forehead as he glared at the diminutive Primordial. "Plaything?" he boomed, his voice echoing through the cavern. "Don't you dare call me a plaything, you little…!"

Before he could finish his tirade, a massive hand, encased in a golden gauntlet, shot out. Violet, for once lacking her usual agility, could only offer a squeak of surprise before the blow connected with a resounding SMACK across her face. The force of the slap sent her flying, tumbling through the air like a ragdoll before crashing against the rubble at the base of the broken wall.

A stunned silence descended upon the chamber. Jaune, for once, looked speechless, her mouth agape. Reinhard stared at Veldora, a flicker of amusement battling with disapproval in his eyes. Blanc, ever stoic, simply raised an eyebrow.

Veldora, chest puffed out, bellowed a challenge. "Anyone else want a piece of me? Now's your chance!"

The silence stretched, thick with tension. Then, a slow, deliberate clapping echoed through the chamber. A figure emerged from the debris, a single hand pressed against her bloody cheek. Violet, her face pale and eyes narrowed, was no longer the picture of childish whimsy.

"Well played, Dragon," she said, her voice devoid of its usual childishness, replaced by a steely edge that sent shivers down Jaune's spine. The playful glint in her lavender eyes had been replaced by a cold, predatory gleam. "Perhaps you're not such a dull plaything after all."

The air crackled with barely contained power, a clear warning. Blanc, realizing the precarious situation, cleared her throat, a barely concealed sneer twisting her lips as she surveyed Violet's pathetic state.

"Well, Violet," Blanc's voice dripped with icy sarcasm, "it seems a proper introduction is in order, wouldn't you say? Given your…current state of enthusiasm, perhaps you're finally interested in a real meeting?"

The tension in the chamber vibrated, a delicate balance between chaos and fragile order. Blanc, the ruler of this territory, had regained control, but the unexpected arrival of the Primordials had irrevocably altered the course of the day.

Violet glared at Blanc, the sting of the slap lingering on her cheek alongside a newfound respect for Veldora's raw power. She wasn't a fool. Charging in like a bull in a china shop wouldn't win her any favors, especially with Reinhard, the strategist, likely already formulating a plan to contain both her and Veldora if things went south.

Swallowing her pride, Violet straightened her dress, the childish facade replaced by a begrudging acceptance. "Fine," she conceded, her voice tight. "A meeting it is. But this little...encounter," she shot a venomous glare at Veldora, "will not be forgotten."

Veldora, still fuming but clearly enjoying the attention, simply chuckled, the sound echoing through the cavern. "Bring it on, pipsqueak," he rumbled.

Blanc, ever the diplomat, ignored their bickering. "Excellent," she said, her voice firm. "Then let us proceed to the designated meeting room. We have much to discuss."

Jaune, who had been watching the exchange with amusement, chimed in. "Finally! A proper meeting and maybe even a little brawl afterwards? Now that's what I call a productive day!"

Despite the chaos of the morning, a semblance of order returned. Blanc, with steely determination, led the way towards the designated meeting room. Veldora, still boasting, followed closely behind. Reinhard, ever the silent observer, trailed after them, his expression unreadable. Jaune, practically bouncing with barely contained energy, brought up the rear. Violet, the former picture of childish whimsy, now walked with a measured pace, a predatory glint simmering in her lavender eyes.

As they traversed the cavernous halls, the tension in the air crackled with unspoken threats and simmering power struggles.

The heavy oak doors of the meeting room groaned open, revealing a starkly furnished chamber bathed in an ethereal, blueish light. A long, obsidian table dominated the center, flanked by imposing chairs carved from the same dark stone. Blanc gestured for the Primordials to take their seats, her gaze lingering for a moment on Violet, whose bloody cheek still bore the mark of Veldora's temper.

As everyone settled in, an uncomfortable silence descended upon the room. Jaune, ever the embodiment of impatience, shattered it with a loud thump of her fist on the table.

"Alright, alright," she boomed, her golden eyes flashing with a hint of annoyance. "Let's get this over with. What's the point of this meeting anyway? Can't we just introduce ourselves to these…guests and be done with it?"

Blanc gritted her teeth, the informality of Jaune's request grating on her nerves. It seemed Jaune, lost in her usual desire for chaos, was the only one who didn't grasp the gravity of the situation. Taking a deep breath to maintain her composure, Blanc addressed the Primordials, her voice firm and unwavering.

"The purpose of this meeting," she began, her gaze sweeping across the room, "is to discuss the arrival of Veldora and Reinhard in our domain. Their presence here, while unexpected, has significant implications for the Underworld."

A flicker of curiosity crossed Reinhard's features, while Veldora simply leaned back in his chair, a bored expression on his face. Violet, however, remained impassive, her purple eyes fixed on Blanc.

Blanc continued, her voice gaining intensity. "These two newcomers are beings of immense power. Their actions, their decisions, can have a profound impact on our very existence. We must understand their intentions, their motivations, and ensure their presence does not disrupt the delicate balance of the Underworld."

She paused, letting her words sink in. "This is not a mere formality, Jaune," she concluded, her voice laced with a hint of steel. "The fate of our domain rests on the outcome of this discussion."

Just then, the sound of a flamboyant flourish cut through the air. The heavy oak doors swung open with a dramatic flourish, revealing a figure who seemed to have stepped out of a forgotten fairytale.

Standing in the doorway was a man, tall and slender, with a flamboyant air about him. His black hair was streaked with vibrant crimson and gold, mirroring the colors of chaos and royalty. His golden eyes, with red pupils and black sclerae, held a mischievous glint, and a wide, charming smile graced his face. He was dressed in a prince-like outfit, complete with a velvet cape and a cravat adorned with a sparkling ruby. This was Noir, the Primordial of Black.

"Well, well, well," he boomed, his voice surprisingly deep for his slender frame. "What a delightful gathering we have here! Did someone forget to send out an invitation, or was this a private affair?"

Blanc, momentarily taken aback by Noir's flamboyant entrance, sighed. "Noir," she said, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "We were just about to begin."

Ignoring Blanc's mild annoyance, Noir swept into the room, his cape billowing dramatically behind him. He stopped in front of the table, his gaze flitting across the assembled Primordials. A playful grin spread across his face.

"Ah, introductions then!" he declared, clapping his hands together. "Excellent! I do love a good introduction. Allow me. I am Noir, the Primordial of Black, at your service!"

A collective groan rose from the other Primordials. They were used to Noir's theatrics, but his whimsical nature often clashed with the seriousness of their meetings. Blanc, however, steeled herself. With Noir's arrival, the situation had become even more unpredictable, and she knew it would take all her diplomatic skills to navigate this gathering of powerful and capricious beings.

Ignoring the reactions of the others, Noir swept into the room, his cloak billowing behind him like a storm cloud. He reached the table and took a seat with a flourish, his smile still wide. It was then, as his gaze swept across the chamber, that his eyes landed on Reinhard.

A change flickered across Noir's face, the playful grin replaced by an expression of something akin to awe. He leaned forward, his golden eyes, usually filled with mischief, now held a curious intensity. The air around him crackled with a sudden, unexpected energy.

Before anyone could react, Noir did something completely out of character. With a surprising display of reverence, he dropped to his knees in front of Reinhard. His prince-like attire pooled around him like a dark puddle on the obsidian floor.

Everyone in the room stared, stunned into silence. Blanc's brow furrowed in confusion. Jaune, ever the brawler, looked as if she were about to burst out laughing. Violet's eyes narrowed, unsure of what to make of this sudden display. Even Veldora, for once, seemed genuinely surprised.

The object of Noir's sudden reverence, Reinhard, remained impassive. His gaze, usually sharp and assessing, glinted slightly in surprise. This unexpected display, from the most unpredictable of the Primordials, had even the stoic tyrant momentarily off-guard.

"And you are…?" Noir asked, his voice hushed with an unfamiliar respect. It was the most serious anyone had ever heard him speak. "Forgive me for my tardiness, but the grandeur of your presence momentarily escaped my notice. May I inquire as to your esteemed name?"

The weight of Noir's question hung heavy in the air. The other Primordials watched, bewildered, as their usually whimsical companion displayed such reverence for this newcomer. The question of who Reinhard was and why his arrival had such a profound effect on Noir remained unanswered. This unexpected development had shifted the focus of the meeting, and Blanc, for the moment, could only watch as the enigmatic Primordial of Black sought answers from the stoic overlord.

Then, a flicker of something unexpected crossed Reinhard's face. The stoic lines softened, replaced by a hint of a genuine, albeit rare, smile. A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, sending shivers down the spines of some of the Primordials. It was a sound that spoke of power held in check, of a storm waiting to unleash.

"Intriguing," he finally said, his voice deep and resonant like the tolling of a distant bell. "The demon race is not so hopeless after all, at least one has managed to catch a glimpse of a fourth of my potential."

The words struck Blanc and the others like a physical blow. Reinhard's power, even a fraction of it, was a force to be reckoned with. Yet, here he stood, acknowledging Noir's perception with a hint of…approval?

Noir, for his part, practically glowed with exhilaration. His eyes widened even further, the red pupils gleaming with an almost manic intensity. A wide, ecstatic grin stretched across his face, splitting his cheeks almost ear to ear.

"A fourth!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with an almost childlike wonder. "Oh, esteemed sir, you underestimate my keen eye! I daresay I have glimpsed a mere fraction of the potential that burns within you, a power that could reshape the very fabric of existence!"

He bowed deeply, his hands pressed flat against the obsidian floor. "A privilege, truly, to be in the presence of such…grandeur!"

The other Primordials exchanged nervous glances. Never had they seen Noir behave in such a way. His usual theatrics seemed almost tame compared to this display of unbridled enthusiasm. Jaune, unable to contain herself any longer, let out a snort of laughter that quickly died down under the combined glares of Blanc and Violet.

Reinhard raised a hand, silencing the overenthusiastic Primordial. "Your perception is…interesting, Noir," he said, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "Perhaps, at a later time, we can discuss this…potential you speak of."

Noir's eyes widened further, if that were possible. He practically vibrated with excitement. "A later time? You…you would grant me such an audience?"

A hint of a genuine smile graced Reinhard's lips. The amusement in his eyes deepened. "Indeed," he said. "But for now, I believe we have more pressing matters at hand."

He turned his gaze towards Blanc, his expression turning serious once more. "Your explanations, while somewhat…disorganized," he said, "have been sufficient. The state of this realm is…unfortunate, but not beyond redemption. Consider the existence of the Underworld…tolerated, for now."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the chamber. Even Veldora, who had remained largely indifferent throughout the meeting, seemed to perk up at Reinhard's pronouncement.

"However," Reinhard continued, his voice sharp with warning, "this…tolerance comes with a condition. The demon race will remain under observation. Any further transgressions, any disruption of the balance, and your fate will be swiftly and decisively sealed."

He glanced pointedly at Veldora, whose bored expression had morphed into a cocky grin. "The fate of this particular…individual," he said, referring to the True Dragon with a hint of disdain, "is left to your discretion. Deal with him as you see fit."

The implication was clear. Veldora's freedom, or lack thereof, rested entirely on the shoulders of the other Primordials. A spark of defiance flickered in the Dragon's eyes, but he remained silent, a tense silence hanging in the air.

With a final curt nod, Reinhard rose from his seat. A faint crackle of energy filled the chamber as he turned towards the doorway. "This…gathering," he said, "is concluded."

Without another word, he turned and strode out of the room, his powerful presence leaving a lingering echo in his wake. The heavy oak doors swung shut with a resounding thud, leaving the Primordials to grapple with the aftermath of his visit.

The meeting room remained silent for a moment, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Then, a single, booming laugh shattered the silence. Veldora, the ever-chaotic Storm Dragon. threw his head back and roared with delight.

"Freedom!" he bellowed, the word echoing through the chamber. "Finally, some entertainment!"

The other Primordials exchanged wary glances.

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Chương 16: Family Reunion.

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A fierce crimson wind roared across the desolate landscape bordering the Underworld, carrying with it the icy bite of Velzard's presence. Velzard, the Ice Dragon, her majestic form shimmering with an ethereal blue glow, hovered high above the swirling vortex that marked the entrance to the demon realm. Beside her, Velgrynd, the Scorch Dragon, mirrored the swirling inferno within her, her crimson scales blazing with a heat that rivaled the sun.

Both True Dragons were a whirlwind of emotions. Their elder brother, Veldanava, had finally shed light on the existence of a previously unknown younger sibling. Relief, tinged with simmering rage, battled within them. Relief at finding a new sibling, and rage at Veldanava's secrecy.

"Five minutes," Velzard rumbled, her voice echoing through the swirling vortex like the crackle of ancient glaciers. "That's all it took to pinpoint their location."

Velgrynd snorted, a plume of fiery smoke billowing from her nostrils. "Their auras practically scream 'dragon' and 'danger'. Child's play for us."

Their combined senses, honed over millennia, had sliced through the Underworld's chaotic energies, pinpointing their brother's location with ease. Now, a tempest of emotions swirled within them. Curiosity about the younger sibling, a hint of protectiveness, and a deep-seated grudge towards a powerful entity rumored to reside in this very realm.

Velzard, ever the strategist, lowered herself closer to the vortex, her icy aura momentarily shielding her from the scorching wind. "We approach with caution, sister," she warned. "This realm is rife with unknown dangers, and our brother may not be as…prepared as we are."

Velgrynd let out a growl, the sound echoing like thunder. "Prepared? He's probably causing havoc and bringing shame to the True Dragon name as we speak. Still, I suppose we can't let the little one be completely overwhelmed by…everyone."

Their telepathic link crackled with a single unspoken thought: the humiliation they endured two centuries ago at the hands of a celestial being rumored to reside in this very realm. Their nephew, the being who dared to slay them, a being they longed to confront once more.

With a synchronized nod, the two True Dragons plunged into the swirling vortex, their immense forms disappearing into the chaotic energy. The wind shrieked in protest as their celestial power clashed with the Underworld's infernal essence, but the True Dragons pushed forward, their determination to find their younger sibling unwavering.

They emerged on the other side, a sight that would make lesser beings tremble. Velzard, an embodiment of winter's fury, and Velgrynd, a living inferno, stood amidst the desolate plains of the Underworld. Their powerful auras sent ripples of fear through the nearby denizens, who scrambled to hide in whatever crevasses they could find.

Ignoring the terrified whispers in their wake, the True Dragons set off towards the location Velgrynd had pinpointed. Their senses, however, sent a jolt of surprise. The powerful presence they expected wasn't alone. Another familiar aura, one they hadn't considered, pulsed alongside it.

"Wait," Velzard said, her voice laced with a disbelief that echoed in Velgrynd's mind. "There's…another strong presence. But it's not what we expected."

Velgrynd narrowed her eyes, focusing her senses. Recognition flickered within her fiery gaze. "Wait a minute…that can't be…"

A wave of sudden clarity washed over them. The shock of their brother's existence had momentarily pushed another detail to the back of their minds.

"Reinhard…" Velgrynd muttered, her voice a low growl. "We almost forgot…he wouldn't be alone. That other presence…it's our bastard of a nephew."

The simmering rage towards their eldest brother, momentarily forgotten, a wave of exasperation washed over the True Dragons. They had almost forgotten their nephew entirely in their haste to find the new brother.

Their shared telepathic link crackled with amusement. A new challenge awaited them, one that promised a mix of annoyance and perhaps, a touch of amusement. Reuniting with their newly born brother and settling an old score with their nephew could all be accomplished in one fell swoop.

The True Dragons, their steps lighter with this unexpected turn of events, adjusted their course. They were heading not just for a new sibling, but for a chaotic family reunion that promised to shake the very foundations of the Underworld.

Within the obsidian walls of Blanc's castle, Reinhard, draped in an aura of quiet power, sat upon his throne crafted from molten gold. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, were scanning a series of intricate diagrams etched into the obsidian floor. A frown marred his otherwise stoic expression, hinting at a problem that required his full attention.

Suddenly, a tremor of power rippled through the very fabric of the Underworld, a disturbance so potent it couldn't be ignored. Reinhard's eyes snapped open, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually composed features. The air crackled with a tension that sent shivers down the spine of the lone Primordial present, Noir.

"Those…auras," Reinhard finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. "They're unmistakable."

He recognized them instantly - the blazing inferno of Velgrynd and the glacial chill of Velzard, his formidable aunts. A sigh escaped his lips, a sound heavy with exasperation. Their arrival, unexpected and unwelcome, promised nothing but chaos.

With a swift movement, he rose from his golden throne. Power surged around him, coalescing into a shimmering barrier that enveloped the entire castle. The obsidian walls pulsed with a golden light, forming an impenetrable shield against the approaching storm.

"They come in force," Reinhard stated, a hint of grim amusement in his voice. "Prepare yourself, Noir. It seems your…admiration will soon have a target."

Noir, who had been practically vibrating with excitement ever since sensing the approaching auras, practically preened at Reinhard's words. "A target, you say? An opportunity to witness the true power of Your Majesty?"

Reinhard's lips twitched in the faintest semblance of a smile. "Perhaps. But remember, Noir, remain…controlled. We do not wish for lifeless destruction, even if it entertains you."

Noir bowed deeply, his theatrical flourish somewhat subdued by the seriousness of the situation. "Of course, your Majesty. Discretion is my middle name…well, not technically, but you get the idea!"

Meanwhile, outside the shielded castle, the desolate plains of the Underworld trembled under the combined might of Velzard and Velgrynd. Their arrival was a spectacle in itself – Velzard, a majestic embodiment of winter's fury, and Velgrynd, a living inferno, their fury a tangible force.

"This barrier," Velzard rumbled, her voice echoing through the barren landscape. "A curious trick. But nothing our combined power can't break."

Velgrynd, ever impatient, let out a fiery snort. "Stand aside, Reiny! We come not for a fight, but for a reunion!"

However, their attempts to breach the barrier proved futile. It pulsed with an otherworldly power, repelling their attacks with ease. Their frustration grew, simmering alongside the memory of their previous encounter with their nephew.

Within the protected castle, a different kind of chaos unfolded. Veldora, the embodiment of pure destruction, found himself locked in a playful, but ultimately destructive, battle with Jaune, the Brawl Princess, Blanc, the Ruler of the Underworld, and Violet, the Nightmare Lord.

The cavernous hall echoed with Veldora's booming laughter as he swatted away their attacks with playful swats of his tail. Jaune, her fists crackling with energy, landed a few decent blows, but they did little to faze the mighty True Dragon.

Blanc, her voice firm, commanded Veldora to stop his rampage, but her words were lost in the din of battle. Violet, ever the cunning, observed the situation, formulating a plan in the shadows.

Suddenly, the tremor from Reinhard's barrier reached them. Veldora, sensing trouble, turned his head towards the castle walls. A spark of curiosity flickered in his crimson eyes.

"Hey, what's going on out there?" he boomed, his voice filled with childish excitement.

The three Primordials, momentarily forgetting their predicament, also turned their attention to the barrier. Their faces, etched with worry and curiosity, mirrored the chaos about to unfold outside the castle walls.

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Just as the tension between the True Dragons and the barrier reached a fever pitch, a tremor shook the very fabric of the Underworld. The ground rumbled, and the air crackled with a power that forced Velzard and Velgrynd to take a step back.

A booming voice, laced with a hint of amusement, echoed across the desolate plains, cutting through Velzard's frustrated growl and Velgrynd's fiery snarl.

"Now, now, ladies. There's no need for such a dramatic entrance."

The barrier shimmered and dissolved, revealing Reinhard standing before them. His golden hair, usually meticulously styled, was slightly ruffled from the dust of dispelling the barrier. A flicker of annoyance crossed his sharp features, but it was quickly replaced by a hint of amusement as he surveyed the scene.

"Veldora," he called out, his voice carrying through the open space. "Enough with the childish games. We have much to discuss."

The sound of Veldora's booming laughter abruptly ceased. A moment of silence followed, then a deep rumble echoed from within the castle walls.

"Reinhard? You're here? That's awesome! Can we finally break some stuff now?"

Veldora's enthusiastic voice, laced with a hint of childish naivety, pierced through the tension. The True Dragons exchanged bewildered glances. Their fearsome nephew, the slayer of True Dragons, was seemingly having a conversation with their newly discovered brother?

Reinhard, the epitome of control, seemed unfazed. A hint of an annoyed smile played on his lips.

"Patience, Veldora. There will be time for…destruction later. For now, let's welcome your sisters home."

Velzard and Velgrynd, still speechless, watched as the castle gates creaked open. A figure, shrouded in shadow, emerged, followed by Jaune, Blanc, and Violet, their faces etched with a mixture of relief and apprehension.

The figure stepped into the light, revealing a majestic True Dragon, his scales shimmering with a vibrant sapphire hue. His golden eyes, filled with a childlike curiosity, locked with those of his sisters.

"Hello," he boomed, his voice filled with an innocent exuberance. "I'm Veldora. It's nice to finally meet ya!"

The shock on the True Dragons' faces was a sight to behold. Millennia of existence had prepared them for many things, but a playful, sapphire-scaled brother was not one of them.

And so, amidst the desolate plains of the Underworld, a reunion unlike any other unfolded. The two most powerful True Dragons, known for their destructive might, stood speechless before their newfound brother, while their formidable nephew, the slayer of True Dragons, watched with a hint of amusement in his piercing gold eyes. It was a scene that promised chaos, laughter, and perhaps, a touch of heartwarming family bonding, all under the watchful gaze of the Primordials within the castle.

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The opulent halls of Blanc's castle buzzed with an unusual energy. Gone were the sounds of battle and the tremors of Veldora's rampage, replaced by the delicate clinking of porcelain and the hushed whispers of conversation. In the grand reception hall, an unlikely gathering had taken place – a family tea party, presided over by none other than Reinhard himself.

Seated at the head of a meticulously crafted oak table, Reinhard exuded an air of quiet authority. His simple white suit contrasted with the ornate table setting, yet he seemed perfectly at ease amidst the grandeur. His golden hair, still slightly ruffled from earlier, framed his sharp features. A hint of curiosity flickered in his piercing golden eyes as he observed Veldora.

Across from him, perched on a surprisingly comfortable chair, sat Veldora. His True Dragon form, a whirlwind of emerald scales and primal power, had been tucked away for the moment. In his human form, he appeared as a young man with sun-kissed skin, tousled blonde hair, and eyes bright with curiosity. He was currently fiddling with a delicate teacup, a stark contrast to his usual boisterous demeanor.

Flanking Veldora were Velzard and Velgrynd, their True Dragon forms similarly restrained. Velzard, the Ice Dragon, now appeared as a woman with flowing silver hair and eyes that shimmered like glacial ice. Her beauty was ethereal, like a frozen waterfall captured in human form. Velgrynd, the Scorch Dragon, mirrored her sister's elegance in a way. Her fiery hair, usually a wild mane, was now tamed into a beautiful wave the color of the sea. Her eyes, the blue of a clear summer day, held a fiery intensity that spoke volumes of her power. Both, however, were still grappling with the revelation of a new sibling, their gazes flitting between Veldora and Reinhard.

Beside Reinhard, diligently refilling teacups with an almost theatrical flourish, stood Noir. Assuming a slender young man with dark hair and golden eyes that gleamed with an unnatural red light. His loyalty to Reinhard was absolute, and fear was an emotion reserved solely for his master. He observed the scene with a hint of amusement, his dark uniform a stark contrast to the vibrant tapestries adorning the walls.

The silence stretched, broken only by the nervous clinking of teaspoons. Veldora, unable to contain his curiosity any longer, leaned forward in his chair.

"So, they're my sisters?" he asked, his voice filled with an innocent wonder that disarmed even the formidable Velzard.

Reinhard met his gaze, a hint of amusement flickering in his golden eyes. "Indeed. It seems we have much to discuss."

Velzard, ever the pragmatist, cleared her throat, her voice a low rumble. "Reiny," she began, "while we appreciate the reunion, we would have liked to be involved in Veldora's care." A hint of unspoken challenge flickered in her glacial eyes.

Velgrynd snorted in agreement. "Exactly! We may not be known for our nurturing instincts, but surely we could have handled a little…exuberance." She shot a playful but pointed look at Veldora, who blushed under her fiery gaze.

Reinhard sighed internally. He knew his aunts wouldn't let this matter drop. However, before he could respond, Veldora spoke up again, his eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"So, are you both strong too? You must be if you're my siblings!"

The question hung in the air, momentarily distracting the True Dragons from their concern. Velzard and Velgrynd exchanged a surprised glance.

A ghost of a smile played on Reinhard's lips. "Strong?" he echoed, his voice neutral. "Perhaps. But strength can take many forms. Tell us, Veldora, what do you consider to be strong?"

Veldora, momentarily thrown off track, pondered the question, his brow furrowed in concentration. The tension in the room eased, replaced by a spark of genuine curiosity.

Veldora puffed out his chest, a hint of pride replacing his earlier curiosity. "Strong?" he boomed, his voice echoing in the opulent hall. "Strength is about pure power! Being able to blow things up, to fight and win! If you can't level a mountain with a single punch or freeze an entire ocean with a breath, then are you truly strong?"

The air crackled with tension. Velzard's eyes turned an icy blue, her aura sending a wave of frost that shimmered across the teacups. Velgrynd's hair seemed to smolder, her eyes flaring with a volcanic fire. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by a simmering anger.

"Insolent brat…" Velzard growled, her voice laced with millennia of icy fury. "Do you dare question our strength?"

"Exactly!" roared Velgrynd, her voice like molten rock. "We are True Dragons, harbingers of destruction! We have reshaped continents and scorched the very sky! You, a mere hatchling who can barely control his power, dare lecture us on strength?"

Veldora, oblivious to the brewing storm, blinked at his sisters, his youthful enthusiasm dampened by their sudden hostility. "But… I thought siblings were supposed to be strong!" he whined, a hint of confusion clouding his bright eyes.

Reinhard, saw the impending chaos unfold. A barely audible sigh escaped his lips. This was precisely why he had hesitated to involve Veldora's formidable sisters. He knew their volatile temperaments, and Veldora's innocent arrogance was the perfect spark to ignite their fury.

"Enough" he boomed, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. His golden eyes, usually sharp and calculating, held a flicker of warning. Both Velzard and Velgrynd, despite their immense power, flinched at their nephew's command. The respect, perhaps even fear, they held for Reinhard was deeply ingrained.

"Veldora," Reinhard continued, his voice calmer but firm, "strength is not just about brute force. It encompasses wisdom, control, and the ability to use your power for your 'own' greater good."

Velzard and Velgrynd scoffed, but remained silent under Reinhard's watchful gaze. They may not agree with his methods, but his authority, especially when dealing with their newfound brother, was undeniable.

Veldora, however, remained unconvinced. He mumbled something about boring lectures and the thrill of a good fight.

Reinhard, suppressing another sigh, decided to change tactics. "Veldora," he said, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice, "perhaps a demonstration is in order. Your sisters, despite their… unorthodox way of showing affection," he shot a pointed look at the two fuming True Dragons, "are indeed formidable opponents. Why don't we have a little sparring session, just to showcase different aspects of strength?"

Veldora's eyes widened with excitement. A sparring session with his powerful sisters? Now that sounded like fun! He didn't understand the subtle tension in the room, or the way his sisters bristled at the suggestion. To him, it was all a game, a chance to test his newfound strength against his legendary siblings.

Velzard and Velgrynd exchanged a look. They saw the spark of challenge in Reinhard's eyes, a silent dare to showcase their power without resorting to outright destruction. With a grudging nod, they agreed. The opulent tea party had transformed into an unexpected battleground.

As the three True Dragons rose from their chairs, their human forms dissolving into their magnificent Draconic avatars, a tremor shook the very foundation of the castle. The battle lines were drawn. Veldora, the enthusiastic but naive newcomer, against the seasoned might of Velzard and Velgrynd. It was a clash of power, of ideologies, and perhaps, a fragile bond waiting to be forged in the heat of battle.

—-

—---


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