The climb to the surface felt endless. Every step forward pressed down on Lukas' already weary body, but he forced himself to keep close behind Rysenth, who himself followed in Erandyl's lead.

The Dragon Lord of the Earth bore the weight of their journey with silent determination, her movements steady, though the grief etched into her features had only deepened with each passing second. Not a word was spoken as they ascended, the sound of their claws scraping against stone the only rhythm guiding them through the dark passages.

At last, a pale glow broke through the gloom ahead.

The stale air of the caverns gave way to the crisp bite of early morning as Erandyl led them into the open. Lukas blinked against the light, raising a hand to shield his eyes. For the first time since they had descended beneath the surface, he saw the rising sun cresting the horizon. It should have been an encouraging sight, to remind him that the world above still existed, that there was still hope for the Kingdom of Dragons.

But that moment of joy vanished as quickly as it came.

What stretched before them was ruin.

The three Lords of Linemall stopped, horror washing over all of them in waves.

Lukas felt his chest tighten, his breath catching in disbelief.

The Ancestral Lands—once a place of reverence and peace, where generations of Dragon Lords had gathered for unity and wisdom—were no more. Where once there had been rolling green, sacred groves, and halls of stone shaped by hands long since returned to dust, had been turned into a wasteland.

The devastation was staggering.

The arena's descent from the skies had struck with all the force of a falling star, scarring the earth beyond recognition. What should have been a monument to Linemall's culture and history had been smashed apart, as though the heavens themselves had sought to erase it. Lukas stared out at the broken ground, at the jagged spires of rock thrust up from the impact and at the blackened scars that stretched across the horizon.

But it was not only nature that bore witness to destruction.

Bodies littered the landscape. Some lay in unnatural positions, torn by the sheer force of the collapse. Others bore marks that told of something far worse. Lukas had fought monsters, had seen rivers of blood in battle, but nothing prepared him for this. Many of the dead across what once was the Ancestral Lands had not been killed by the fall of the arena. Their faces were twisted in silent screams, limbs marred by wounds deliberate and cruel. It was clear that the destruction of the Ancestral Lands had been only the beginning; what followed was a slaughter like the Kingdom of Dragons had not seen since the Monarch's Reign.

The fortunate ones had fled, abandoning the sacred grounds that had defined their people's history.

The less fortunate had been left behind, their fates sealed by hands that sought not only to kill but to torment. Thousands of years of culture and memory had been erased in mere hours, replaced with ash, silence, and horror.

Lukas could feel the despair pressing down upon them, heavy and suffocating. All three of the Lords of Linemall were wounded in both body and soul, such was the price that came with defeating the Hydra. Lukas' own limbs trembled with exhaustion and Erandyl's steps faltered for the first time since they had emerged. Even Rysenth could not hide the grim weight in his gaze.

Yet they could not rest.

While the threat below had been vanquished, an even greater one remained above.

Valkari Ishtar, Dragonborn of the Flames, roamed these lands and the destruction before them bore her mark. She had vowed to bring about a Second Great War, to make humanity pay for its crimes against the draconic kind. That much Lukas understood. But this…this cruelty against her own kin defied reason.

To kill those who opposed her was one thing. To torture them in such grotesque fashion was another.

The rising sun illuminated the ruin in gold, but there was no warmth in its light. Only a horrifying truth remained, the realisation that the battle below had merely been the beginning and the real monster was yet to be slain.

Lukas clenched his fists, his mind a storm of confusion and anger.

If Valkari wished vengeance upon humanity, why slaughter her own? What justice could she claim when her actions stripped her of the very honor she claimed to uphold?

The silence hung heavy over the ruined lands, broken only by the dry whisper of the wind as it swept through shattered stone and scorched earth.

It was Erandyl who answered his unspoken question. Her voice carried the solemn weight of history itself, steady but tinged with sorrow. "Valkari wants war. And to bring war upon us all," she said, her eyes fixed on the desolation before them, "she seeks out the Heart of Kaeryth."

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Lukas had known of the relic tied to the very origins of Linemall and it was no mere treasure. It was the Heart of Kaeryth herself—the heart of Erandyl's mother and the very first Dragon Lord of the Earth. Even in Kaeryth's death, the heart continued to beat, sustaining the Founder's Spell. It was because of her sacrifice that Linemall's location had remained hidden since the dawn of its existence.

Rysenth drew in a slow breath before speaking the realization that had come to them all. "She means to put an end to the Founder's Spell."

The truth sharpened into cruel focus as Lukas's eyes roamed over the broken bodies of the Elders. The marks of torture had not been mindless cruelty alone. They had been interrogations. Each death here had been part of Valkari's search for the Heart's resting place.

By the time the three Lords stood among the ruins, it was no longer a question.

Valkari had already found the truth she had been hoping to find.

Perhaps one day, Lukas hoped that the Kingdom of Dragons would open its gates to the rest of Hiraeth. But that day was not today. Not when those who threatened the very existence of his people still ruled the Kingdoms of Humanity.

To reveal Linemall's location now would be to doom them all.

Lukas could see the sick beauty in Valkari's plan, because if she forced the Heart of Kaeryth to beat its last, war would come to Linemall's very borders, whether they liked it or not, and it would not stop until every scale and stone was turned to ashes and blood.

Lukas ground his teeth, frustration burning in his chest. There was no longer room for pretense. "You were there when it happened, Erandyl. Where is the Heart?"

Her silence stretched for a moment, heavy as stone. Then at last, she spoke. "We will not find it here."

Both Lukas and Rysenth turned sharply toward her.

"My mother's heart has never laid within the Ancestral Lands." Erandyl continued before they could say a word. "That is simply a rumor that we have allowed to spread. The Heart of Kaeryth lies within the peak of Mount Ashendir."

Rysenth's eyes widened. It seemed like even the Dragon Lord of the Flames had never known of this and it was he who ruled over the great mountain of Linemall.

Erandyl's voice grew taut with urgency. "And Valkari knows this now. There were Elders who have lived as long as I have and they were there when the Founder's Spell was cast. Valkari knew that. That is why she did this. If she reaches the Heart of Kaeryth before we do…"

The Dragon Lord of the Earth did not need to state the obvious.

If Valkari succeeded then there would be a Second Great War upon them all. And this time, there would millions of lives lost regardless of whether those lives came from humanity or the draconic kind.

They had to stop her.

But to stop Valkari Ishtar would not simply mean reaching the Heart of Kaeryth before her.

It would also mean standing against the Dragonborn of the Earth—Kaela Telaryon, Erandyl's own granddaughter.

Of all the Lords of Linemall, Erandyl was among the strongest he had ever encountered even those he had encountered within the Crest. It was a strength carved not only by her formidable power but also by her sheer age. She was the oldest of them all, carrying centuries of battle and knowledge within her veins.

But time was a double-edged blade.

It had gifted her strength, yes, but it had stolen much more.

Erandyl had lived long enough to see her own children fall during the Great War, laying them to rest when no parent should have had to. Her granddaughters, once her pride, had left her side—with the Lady Kaitlyn choosing her own path and Kaela Telaryon betraying her to stand by Valkari Ishtar's side. Worst of all, Erandyl had just been forced to watch her great-granddaughter, whom she had cradled as a youngling and raised with her own hands, become the abomination that history would name the Hydra. And she had been forced to witness her death not once, but twice.

How much more loss could she endure?

How much more could be taken from a single soul before it shattered into pieces too small to piece back together?

Lukas looked at her then, really looked, and for all her strength, he saw the cracks. He saw the weight that threatened to break her, and he knew she could not be the one to face Kaela. Not because she lacked the power, but because of the love that remained unbroken, the love that would never allow her to strike her granddaughter down.

"Erandyl…" Lukas began, his voice low, carrying both sorrow and resolve. He shook his head gently and offered her a sad smile. "We need more strength—strength that you can gather. Travel back to the Underground City. Bring back those who will fight for Linemall. Rally them and return to us with an army."

For a moment, Erandyl's sharp eyes narrowed, her lips parting to argue.

Lukas saw the battle flash within her—the instinct to stand beside him, to refuse retreat and to fight until the very end for her people.

But then she saw what Lukas was truly giving her.

This was mercy. This was...love.

Lukas was sparing her from the impossible burden of raising her hand against her own kin. He was shouldering that weight himself, a burden that no one should have to carry.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, Erandyl felt the crushing expectations of being a Dragon Lord slip from her shoulders. So many had relied on her as their pillar across the centuries, demanding strength from her without end. And she had done so willingly because of the love she bore for them all. But now, here was someone who said she need not carry it alone.

Lukas Drakos was telling her she could rest, even if it was for just a moment, just enough to breathe.

And for that, Erandyl's heart swelled with a gratitude too deep for words.

Even Rysenth gave Erandyl a nod, his usual sternness softened by a rare smile.

"Very well then, Lukas. I will return with forces to surpass even Valkari's own. Now, I entrust the fate of Linemall into your hands." Erandyl said to her fellow Dragon Lords. "May fortune be with you both and godspeed."

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