Ash falls on armor, making a faint sound. Smoke covers the sky, only a pair of golden eyes penetrate darkness. The dragon circles overhead, scale friction sounds like thunder. Humans stand in ruins, looking up at unreachable power. Fire surges from the throat, consuming all obstacles. Fear flows in blood, mixed with a primitive desire. Creatures in legends are not fiction, but truth sleeping deep within the crust.
Weight of Scales
Every scale undergoes a thousand years of hammering. Black skin hides lava-like temperature. Touching the texture feels like touching the pulse deep within the earth. Spines align along the back, like mountain contours. Defense is not just physical blocking, but a display of majesty. Any weapon approaching will melt. Steel loses shape under high heat, dripping like wax. Spears in soldiers' hands become soft, unable to pierce the hard surface. Ancient forging techniques appear pale before the natural armor.
Temperature of Fire
Between breaths, air becomes viscous. Orange-red light illuminates broken mountains and rivers. Heat distorts vision, making distant scenes blurry. Destructive power is not for killing, but to declare existence. On scorched earth, life redefines form. Ash becomes new soil. Plants sprout again beside cooling magma. Death and vitality intertwine at the moment. Fire is not just a tool of destruction, but a means of purification. The world updates in burning, old order overturned completely.
Gazing into Abyss
Facing the beast, humans appear small. Golden pupils show no pity, only pure wildness. In the moment of eye contact, the soul seems burned. Courage accepts testing under the gaze. Retreat means survival, advance means destruction. Choice is not in hand, but in fate's arrangement. History records countless challengers, finally turning into white bones. Only a heart of awe can exchange for momentary peace. The dragon needs no understanding of human language, action alone is the clearest expression.
End of Legend
Stories always end in silence. The dragon flies into clouds, leaving a burning trail. Earth cools, scars heal gradually. Memories are carved on stone tablets for later interpretation. Power never disappears, only sleeps in another form. Waiting for the next moment of awakening. Bards sing the experience, lyrics full of awe. Children listen by the fire, eyes shining with light. Myth is not far away, right between breaths.
