After I finished my story, a silence fell between us. The dragon stared at me for a long time before he spoke again.
"Tell me, boy," he asked, his voice low and heavy. "Do you not envy her? She is loved by the Gods while you have been abandoned by them."
I didn't hesitate for even a moment. I looked the dragon straight in his massive purple eyes.
"No," I said. "Not even a bit. I am actually overjoyed that she awakened so much mana. It means she will grow stronger and can protect herself better in the future."
My voice trailed off and became sad. "But... I still wanted to be the one to protect her. I wanted to support her, but I don't have the power."
The dragon shifted. "Boy, let me ask you something. If you could get power in exchange for selling your soul to the ones who opposed the Gods, would you take it?"
I stared at the dragon. My body was broken and I was sitting in a pile of filth, but my mind was clear.
"If I have the power to protect or help Sylvie, then I don't care what happens to me," I said.
"Oh?" the dragon rumbled. "Even if you get that power by opposing the Gods, do you still want it?"
"My answer is the same," I told him. "For me, nothing is more important than her. Not even the Gods."
The dragon let out a sudden, booming laugh. The whole place shook.
"Haha! You are crazy, boy," he shouted. "So, is it love?"
I thought about Sylvie's smile and the way she held my hand and when she stood in front of me while everyone else looked away. "Perhaps it is love," I replied.
"Haha! Boy, I like you," the dragon said, his laughter dying down into a grin that showed teeth as long as my arm.
The dragon looked at me seriously. "Boy, I can give you power. Do you want it? It will come with a price."
I didn't have to think twice. I thought about Sylvie, I thought about the words that bastard Cyrus said, and the way the Archbishop looked at me like I was dirt. The anger in my chest burned hotter than the pain in my broken bones.
"I don't care what price you ask," I said, staring into those massive purple eyes. "As long as you give me power."
The dragon let out a low hum. "Then I will ask for my price when the time comes."
He shifted his massive body. "Oh, I forgot to introduce myself, boy. I am Dragon King Abeloth. And I am also the last Dragon King."
He said those last words with a hint of sadness in his deep voice. It felt like the air in the cavern got heavier just from him saying his name.
"Then boy, let me tell you about the power I will give you," Abeloth said. "It won't be mana. It will be Aether."
I wanted to ask what the difference was, but he spoke before I could. "I know what you want to ask, but if you want to know, first merge with my blood essence."
As he spoke, a large drop of blood materialized in the air between us. It was thick with purple-red colour, and it pulsed like a heart. The pressure coming from it was so heavy I could feel it pressing against my wounded chest.
"If you do not hurry, you will die. You are already wounded," Abeloth warned, his purple eyes narrowing. "But my blood essence is very potent. Merging will take time. Even many years might be required—it depends on you. And it won't be an easy process. It will be painful. If you cannot bear it, you can refuse."
I looked at the glowing drop of blood. I could feel the cold of the Abyss seeping into my bones, and my vision was starting to swim from the blood loss. Then I thought of Sylvie. I thought of her being forced into that "Saintess" role by the same people who kicked me into this hole.
I didn't care about the pain. I didn't care if it took years.
"Bring it on," I said, my voice raspy but firm. "I will bear it and succeed."
Abeloth let out a low rumble that might have been a growl of approval. With a flick of his claw, the drop of blood flew forward and slammed into the center of my chest.
The second it touched me, I felt like I was being burned alive. My eyes snapped open and a scream of pure agony tore through my throat. I collapsed, rolling across the cold floor of the abyss, but the burning didn't stop.
I felt my grip on consciousness slipping. The darkness started to feel like an escape from the torture.
"Don't lose yourself, boy!" Abeloth's voice boomed in the cavern. "Focus on your reason for living!"
I gritted my teeth until my gums bled. Sylvie. I pictured her face in the garden. Every time the pain tried to pull me into the dark, I dragged myself back by remembering Cyrus's words and the Archbishop's disgusted face.
Everything went still. I couldn't feel any pain anymore. I couldn't hear or see anything, and I lost all sense of time. I didn't know if minutes or years were passing in that darkness.
When I finally opened my eyes, something felt different. I checked my body and saw that all my wounds were healed. My skin was clear, and my hair had grown long, falling past my shoulders.
I looked around for Abeloth. When I found him in front of me, my eyes widened. I wasn't seeing his dragon form anymore. In his place, I saw a massive, shifting mass of white light.
"Oh, so you have awakened," the dragon said. "It has been 10 months."