Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 24: Ancient Dragon, Uthvaazgol; Zora’s Death

CH24 Ancient Dragon, Uthvaazgol; Zora’s Death

***

The moment Alex locked eyes on Merlin, he quickly bowed.

”Master, I apologise for my rudeness. I hope you will overlook my transgression and disrespect.”

From his previous life, Alex had learned that sometimes it was best to apologise—even when you were right—especially if the other party was a superior. It helped move things forward more smoothly.

Of course, one had to do it in moderation to avoid being looked down upon.

As expected, Merlin now found himself in a difficult position.

Zora had already shown him the error of his ways, and he had resolved to apologise to Alex for putting him on the spot. It was just... he was uncomfortable apologising to a child.

Even if the matter was settled now, a part of him might have still harboured displeasure towards the boy for turning down such a generous offer.

But with Alex apologising first, Merlin felt a lump in his throat he couldn’t quite swallow. There was no longer any way—or reason—for him to act out.

Zora chuckled at his conflicted expression. Still, she gave him a pointed glare that forced him to respond.

Merlin coughed lightly and said, ”That’s... alright. I shouldn’t have asked that of you in the manner I did.”

Even then, he found it difficult to apologise directly after Alex had already done so. Eager to regain some dignity, he quickly pressed forward before Zora could make him do anything else.

”Since you’re here, I take it you’re willing to become my True Disciple and accept all the terms that may come with it?”

”Yes.”

”Are you sure? There’s no going back once we begin.”

”I’ve discussed it with Lady Zora, and we’ve come to an understanding. So yes, I’m sure.”

Merlin glanced at Zora, who nodded in confirmation.

”Very well,” he accepted.

”As you know, taking a True Disciple is unlike accepting an official disciple. This is a lifelong bond that cannot be broken—except by death.

”I follow the old ways, so my taking of a True Disciple requires a solemn vow, made in the presence of the world and witnessed by the forces of magic.

”One final time—think carefully—”

”I am ready, Master,” Alex said with certainty.

Merlin said no more.

His body lifted into the air as a mysterious magic circle flared to life beneath him.

”I, a bearer of the arcane path, bind my wisdom to you. What I know, you shall learn. What I conceal, you may one day unveil. Through being and thought, I shall guide your ascent.”

Alex stepped into the centre of the glowing circle, just below Merlin’s levitating form. Dropping to one knee, he declared,

”I, a seeker of true magic, bind my path to your teachings. What I am, you shall shape. What I become, I will owe to your name. Through being and thought, I shall follow your lit steps.”

Together, Master and Disciple echoed in unison:

”By will alone, this bond is forged— as Master and Disciple, tethered in magic, until release, betrayal, or death!”

The magic circle lit up in a blinding radiance, enveloping them both.

It was the sign that the oath had been accepted.

Alex exhaled deeply, thankful that he’d paid attention in Magic Oath and Etiquette class—even though he hadn’t expected to need it so soon.

The connection formed between him and Merlin confirmed the ritual’s success.

There was no compulsive effect. Rather, the link was a symbol of the sincerity between both parties. Unless mutually dissolved, only death—or betrayal—could sever it.

In ancient times, such oaths served as a safety net. Should anything happen to the student, the Master would know. And if they acted quickly enough, it was possible to identify the one who caused harm.

Thus, the oath also served as a powerful deterrent—safeguarding the lives of True Disciples.

Nowadays, however, the ritual was rarely used. Few Masters took True Disciples anymore. Most preferred to train their own blood descendants—or those of trusted friends and allies.

”Hmm?”

Alex suddenly noticed something strange about the connection.

He focused on it.

His eyes widened as he realised the other end of the oath wasn’t just Merlin—it extended beyond him, deeper into the cave they stood in.

Alex’s gaze shot into the darkness ahead.

The Enhanced Vision of his Truth-Seeker eyes came with a passive night-vision trait, allowing him to see clearly in pitch black.

In the distance, he spotted a massive shape that he had previously mistaken for a wall. That ’wall’, however, was now rising.

”Ho-ho, your senses are sharp,” said a familiar voice.

But it didn’t come from the old man floating above him.

It came from the rising figure.

No... the colossal creature.

It stood to its full height and stretched its body, rising like a mountain awakened.

Obsidian-scaled flesh shimmered with golden light. Its wings were vast—so vast it seemed they could blot out the sun. Horns curled upward from its skull like a time-honoured crown.

Its eyes... like twin suns, radiated wisdom borne from an age long past.

Just the act of it rising and revealing itself caused the very space around them to quake—an echo of its restrained power.

Alex’s eyes locked onto its massive, draconic face.

Ancient Dragon!

His legs trembled.

In all his studies into ranks beyond Legendary, he had only encountered mentions of Elder Dragons—beings far mightier than peak Legends.

But even compared to them, Ancient Dragons were another world apart.

A rare, elite lineage whose power defied comprehension.

And now, one such being stood before him.

”Your Spiritual Force is truly something. Most humans would have lost themselves to fear and despair at the mere sight of my frame, yet you remain composed enough to meet my gaze.”

The deep voice came again—Merlin’s voice—but from the great beast itself.

”To fear you would be irrational. The connection we share marks you as my Master, and your goodwill calms me.” Alex replied.

”Haha! To hear an inheritor of the pure Furor Bloodline speak of rationality—how amusing,” the Ancient Dragon, ’Merlin’, laughed.

”There’s no need for bravado, boy. Your legs are still shaking.”

Alex smiled wryly.

Most people would’ve pissed themselves at the sight of an ordinary dragon.

A few trembling legs before an Ancient Dragon? That was practically a victory.

He was only maintaining his composure thanks to the steel-like will of his experienced, old soul.

What kind of draconic might hasn’t the great True_Sage seen- or read?

Zora stepped beside him and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Her cold Mana flowed through his body, shielding him from the crushing pressure.

Then, gradually, she withdrew her support, letting his body adjust naturally to the dragon’s presence.

”Let me formally reintroduce myself,” said the Ancient Dragon.

”My name is Uthvaazgol. I am an Elder of the Dragon Race, across the myriad planes.”

”And Merlin Pendragon?” Alex asked, having acclimatised to the beast’s immense aura.

”Merlin Pendragon is the name of the avatar I use in this era, on the plane of Pangea.”

Alex nodded solemnly.

From what he knew, Avatar Magic was incredibly difficult to master. It required a powerful foundational resource to craft the avatar—and even then, it rarely matched the original’s strength.

Most avatars barely reached 80% of the true body’s power.

That led Alex to a sobering thought:

If ’Merlin Pendragon’ was this powerful, just how terrifying was the true form behind him...?

”Merlin is famed as a Dragonslayer,” Alex said, his curiosity getting the better of him. ”Did you really kill a dragon, or was that just a performance?”

”I did,” Uthvaazgol replied without hesitation, much to Alex’s surprise.

”Why so shocked? Doesn’t your species kill its own all the time?” the dragon added, his tone dry.

Alex had no comeback. The retort landed cleanly.

Uthvaazgol huffed, then offered further context.

”Would it help your understanding to know that the Elder Dragon I killed had defied the laws of our race here in Pangea? I came to deliver judgement, nothing more.”

”Oh.” Alex nodded slowly, feeling chastened.

Zora stepped forward, sensing they were drifting from the main point.

”Now that Alex is your True Disciple, we can finally tell him why you made your earlier offer,” she reminded the dragon.

”Ah, yes.” Uthvaazgol nodded, his massive head tilting in agreement.

Zora turned to face Alex directly.

”My name is Zora Frost,” she said.

”I am the last descendant of the ancient Frost family. Like you, I inherited my bloodline in its purest form. And like you, that inheritance became a burden.”

She took a breath and continued, her voice steady but solemn.

”The progenitor of the Frost family carried the blood of an Ice Phoenix. Our descendants inherited fragments of that legacy, forming the Frost Bloodline. But my inheritance was too pure—it underwent atavism, reverting to an older, more primal form.”

”In short... I became a half-human, half-phoenix hybrid.”

As she spoke, her body began to glow faintly with a cyan hue.

She rolled up her robe sleeves, revealing intricate, icy-blue tattoos trailing up her arms. The same cyan markings ran along her neck and across her face.

”These are Nirvana Markings,” she said.

”Because of my atavised bloodline, I awakened a trait exclusive to true Phoenixes. These markings constantly absorb ambient Mana to prepare for the Phoenix’s Nirvana—a vital rebirth cycle in their growth.”

She paused, her gaze heavy.

”But for me... it’s not a blessing. It’s a death sentence.”

”My human half can’t survive the transformation. When the Nirvana Markings fully activate—”

”I will die.”

***