It was a habit for her to unconsciously understand others’ IDM and look for flaws. She watched closely as she sparred with Jogid, her eyes tracing each and every line of his magical tattoos. They flowed across his skin like living art, pulsing with energy in time with his movements and mana release. His aura shimmered from deep forest greens to rich soil browns to even the gray of mountain stone.
As her fist met claw, Shagal could feel the IDM thrumming through Jogid’s body, so different from her own seething crimson rage. Where hers was an inferno, volatile and hungry, his was bedrock—steady, anchored, unshakable.
It was rare to see a Dragonfolk favor Earth IDM over their ancestral fires. Jogid’s technique was fascinating, unlike anything she had encountered before. The emotional resonance of his magic reverberated in her core.
Memories drifted to the surface of her mind. Memories of when they first met. The dragonfolk didn’t seem remarkable at all. She could still picture the uncertainty that sometimes flickered in his eyes back then, quickly masked with formality and respect whenever Kaito spoke.
But still, he saved her in Kilford forest that day. This wasn’t the same dragon she met back then.
The dragonfolk before her now stood tall with easy confidence, his inner strength an unstoppable force. In the scant few sun cycles she’d been in Calmo, Jogid’s IDM had progressed by leaps and bounds. As their spar intensified, Shagal realized with a start that he was fast approaching the level of Daiyudura’s greatest heroes—not Goren’s level, but he would certainly make Paulus and Koto tread carefully.
Master Kaito’s teachings had polished Jogid into a gleaming gem, each facet harnessing his potential to the utmost. A twinge of envy threaded through Shagal’s focus, marbled with regret at opportunities lost. If only she had met Kaito sooner, before her rage had crystallized into a shell around her heart...
Gritting her teeth, Shagal redirected her attention inward, stoking the flames of her fury. She pulled threads of rage IDM to her core, trying to weave them together the way Jogid channeled his aura. Searching for the profound connection and resonance she sensed in him.
But her emotions slipped through her metaphorical fingers like so much smoke, leaving only the bitter taste of frustration behind. The parts stubbornly refused to become a harmonious whole.
Not for the first time, Shagal wondered what she was missing. What allowed him to flourish where she struggled?
That moment of hesitation was all Jogid needed.
As Shagal rushed at him, Jogid slid his hands along the ground and sent spikes of earth flying. One of the spikes thudded into Shagal’s stomach, not slowing her advance.
She felt another wave of dirt and stone bounce off her as Jogid spun, summoning a wall of earth to shield himself. Her fist went straight through, crumbling down the barrier and landing on the dragonfolk’s abdomen.
As Jogid scrambled backwards, his tattoos pulsed and a barrage of earth spikes emerged from the ground, but Shagal weaved through them. Shagal’s muscles doubled in size the moment she meteored herself towards the Dragonfolk.
Desperate, he summoned a torrent of mud, engulfing Shagal in a thick, viscous trap.
Jogid seized the opportunity, summoned a massive boulder and hurling it towards Shagal’s head. But just as the boulder reached its target, Shagal’s berserker rage took over.
She saw Jogid half turn, twisting his wrists to complete more Earth-IDM formations.
She noticed the ground churning behind her, but her focus was solely on Jogid now. She pushed her rage down to her core—her own tattoos pulsing—determined to take Jogid seriously.
She could see Jogid’s wings trembling. She pressed her advantage, moving forward while condensing magic in her fists. From the last blow, Shagal knew Jogid’s skill had taken yet another leap. Shagal caught the next spike that flew towards her and flung it back at the dragon with a sharp ‘swoosh,’ and the next, and the next, and then one more, until doubt plastered his face. Shagal fought with every ounce of her magic to keep Jogid’s earth-based spell from her. He did not attack. She forced him to focus on defense. He moved continually to the side, trying not to be forced back, and Shagal pressed him, fists a blur. Jogid stepped back, stepped back again, the earth shield around him thinning as it met fists.
Shagal could feel his strength beginning to fade as her assault continued. But then…
Fire.
With a roar, Jogid threw all his reserves into one last surge. The dragon’s spell flickered past Shagal’s fists and, in quick succession, singed knee, shoulder, and arm and finally thrust into Shagal’s stomach like a mace. With a groan, Shagal folded over, fighting not to fall. She sank to the ground for only a moment and straightened up just in time to see Jogid’s tattoos fade.
“That was a good duel,” Shagal said, while dusting off dirt and dust off her black leather vest. “I wasn’t expecting that last fire-based spell. You used so much earth-IDM that it caught me off guard.”
Jogid inclined his head, accepting the compliment with a small smile. “Thank you, Shagal. Your prowess in battle is truly remarkable. It was an honor to spar with you.”
Shagal studied him for a moment, recalling the fleeting sensation she had felt during their clash. “One question. It was subtle, and I almost missed it, but the moment you converted your earth mana into fire mana, I felt a hint of time IDM. How did you manage that?”
“Ah…” Jogid’s expression shifted, as if caught off-guard, and he sat down beside her. “It is a long story, one that began with my confrontation with Vexlerion.”
Vexlerion? Shagal wondered for a moment. “The hell beast?” she leaned forward, intrigued. Jogid had faced a hell beast? How did he manage to survive? How? There are only a handful of heroes who can hold their own against a hell beast.
“In our battle, I found myself trapped within Vexlerion’s alternate reality, powerless against his malevolent magic, but through Master Kaito’s guidance and my own determination, I discovered a way to turn the tables. I managed to trap Vexlerion’s magic within my own pocket dimension, sealing it away from the world.”
Shagal’s breath caught in her throat. Creating a pocket dimension was an extraordinary feat, one that required immense skill and control over IDM. Shagal’s mind went through every possible way Jogid could have learned such a spell. If only a handful could face a hell beast and survive, even fewer could control alternate dimensions—Vexlerion being one of them.
“However,” Jogid continued, “I now face a new challenge. I cannot open a door to my dimension without risking unleashing that malice into the world. Master Kaito instructed me to cycle all of Vexlerion’s mana from the pocket dimension through my own body, to purify it and make it my own. But…”
Shagal nodded. Jogid managed to utter yet another unfathomable remark: cycling foreign mana was a delicate and dangerous process, one that could easily overwhelm the practitioner if not done with utmost care. No one in Daiyudura would dare try such a feat—that was for sure. However, for someone in Jogid’s unique position, he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t cycle the hell beast’s mana, it would eventually leak out and kill him.
“I have been following Master Kaito’s guidance, but the sheer volume of mana is staggering. I have only managed to cycle a fraction of it so far, and the process is arduous and draining.”
Shagal listened intently to Jogid’s story and his struggles with the hell beast’s mana, sensing the weight of his burden and the immense responsibility he carried. It spoke volumes of his strength of character, his perseverance, his resilience, his wisdom—no wonder he was Kaito’s first disciple.
“Jogid, may I examine the mana within your dimension? Perhaps I can offer some insight, or at least a fresh perspective.
“But—I can’t…”
“You don’t have to open this realm of yours. I can push my rage IDM through your core the same way you’re cycling Vexlerion’s mana.”
Jogid hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, with a slight nod, he extended his hand. “I would be grateful for your assistance. Please, be careful. The power within is...volatile.”
Shagal grasped his hand, her own tattoos flaring to life as she attuned herself to Jogid’s mana. She closed her eyes, focusing inward, and felt herself drawn into the depths of Jogid’s personal dimension, her rage mana pushing through, breaking through spiritual barriers. Unabated.
There it was. Formidable. Destructive. Almost…
Beautiful.
The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced before. Vexlerion’s mana swirled around her, a maelstrom of malevolent energy that threatened to overwhelm her senses. It was a primal, ancient power, steeped in the very essence of hell itself.
As Shagal delved deeper, she felt a presence within the chaos. An entity, almost sentient, that emanated from the darkest recesses of the infernal realms. It called to her, a siren song that resonated with the rage IDM coursing through her veins.
Entranced, Shagal found herself drawn towards the entity. It was a pull she could not resist, a primal urge that overrode all reason. She reached out, her consciousness stretching across the void, yearning to embrace the hellish spirit.
At that moment, the entity lashed out.
A blast of pure, unfiltered malice slammed into Shagal’s psyche, ripping her from the trance with a violent jolt. She gasped, her eyes flying open as she staggered back, Jogid’s hand on her back the only thing keeping her upright.
“Shagal! Are you alright?” Jogid’s concerned voice seemed to come from a great distance, muffled by the ringing in her ears.
Shagal shook her head, trying to clear the lingering echoes of the entity’s attack. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “I...I don’t know,” she managed, her voice trembling. “That power...it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just mana. There’s something else in there, something...ancient and malevolent.”
Jogid’s features shuttered, a shadow passing over his face as they sat atop the lush green grass in the middle of the clearing. “That’s what I sense too,” he said softly. “Vexlerion’s power is not of this world. It comes from a place of pure evil, a realm beyond our understanding.”
“Can you truly tame such a force, Jogid? Can anyone?”
Jogid was silent for a long moment, his eyes distant.
“I must try, Shagal. Master Kaito said I could do it. I won’t let him down. But more importantly, this power will be useful for Calmo—Daiyudura, even.”
“Then I will help you tame it. However, I can.”
It was a habit for her to unconsciously understand others’ IDM and look for flaws. She watched closely as she sparred with Jogid, her eyes tracing each and every line of his magical tattoos. They flowed across his skin like living art, pulsing with energy in time with his movements and mana release. His aura shimmered from deep forest greens to rich soil browns to even the gray of mountain stone.
As her fist met claw, Shagal could feel the IDM thrumming through Jogid’s body, so different from her own seething crimson rage. Where hers was an inferno, volatile and hungry, his was bedrock—steady, anchored, unshakable.
It was rare to see a Dragonfolk favor Earth IDM over their ancestral fires. Jogid’s technique was fascinating, unlike anything she had encountered before. The emotional resonance of his magic reverberated in her core.
Memories drifted to the surface of her mind. Memories of when they first met. The dragonfolk didn’t seem remarkable at all. She could still picture the uncertainty that sometimes flickered in his eyes back then, quickly masked with formality and respect whenever Kaito spoke.
But still, he saved her in Kilford forest that day. This wasn’t the same dragon she met back then.
The dragonfolk before her now stood tall with easy confidence, his inner strength an unstoppable force. In the scant few sun cycles she’d been in Calmo, Jogid’s IDM had progressed by leaps and bounds. As their spar intensified, Shagal realized with a start that he was fast approaching the level of Daiyudura’s greatest heroes—not Goren’s level, but he would certainly make Paulus and Koto tread carefully.
Master Kaito’s teachings had polished Jogid into a gleaming gem, each facet harnessing his potential to the utmost. A twinge of envy threaded through Shagal’s focus, marbled with regret at opportunities lost. If only she had met Kaito sooner, before her rage had crystallized into a shell around her heart...
Gritting her teeth, Shagal redirected her attention inward, stoking the flames of her fury. She pulled threads of rage IDM to her core, trying to weave them together the way Jogid channeled his aura. Searching for the profound connection and resonance she sensed in him.
But her emotions slipped through her metaphorical fingers like so much smoke, leaving only the bitter taste of frustration behind. The parts stubbornly refused to become a harmonious whole.
Not for the first time, Shagal wondered what she was missing. What allowed him to flourish where she struggled?
That moment of hesitation was all Jogid needed.
As Shagal rushed at him, Jogid slid his hands along the ground and sent spikes of earth flying. One of the spikes thudded into Shagal’s stomach, not slowing her advance.
She felt another wave of dirt and stone bounce off her as Jogid spun, summoning a wall of earth to shield himself. Her fist went straight through, crumbling down the barrier and landing on the dragonfolk’s abdomen.
As Jogid scrambled backwards, his tattoos pulsed and a barrage of earth spikes emerged from the ground, but Shagal weaved through them. Shagal’s muscles doubled in size the moment she meteored herself towards the Dragonfolk.
Desperate, he summoned a torrent of mud, engulfing Shagal in a thick, viscous trap.
Jogid seized the opportunity, summoned a massive boulder and hurling it towards Shagal’s head. But just as the boulder reached its target, Shagal’s berserker rage took over.
She saw Jogid half turn, twisting his wrists to complete more Earth-IDM formations.
She noticed the ground churning behind her, but her focus was solely on Jogid now. She pushed her rage down to her core—her own tattoos pulsing—determined to take Jogid seriously.
She could see Jogid’s wings trembling. She pressed her advantage, moving forward while condensing magic in her fists. From the last blow, Shagal knew Jogid’s skill had taken yet another leap. Shagal caught the next spike that flew towards her and flung it back at the dragon with a sharp ‘swoosh,’ and the next, and the next, and then one more, until doubt plastered his face. Shagal fought with every ounce of her magic to keep Jogid’s earth-based spell from her. He did not attack. She forced him to focus on defense. He moved continually to the side, trying not to be forced back, and Shagal pressed him, fists a blur. Jogid stepped back, stepped back again, the earth shield around him thinning as it met fists.
Shagal could feel his strength beginning to fade as her assault continued. But then…
Fire.
With a roar, Jogid threw all his reserves into one last surge. The dragon’s spell flickered past Shagal’s fists and, in quick succession, singed knee, shoulder, and arm and finally thrust into Shagal’s stomach like a mace. With a groan, Shagal folded over, fighting not to fall. She sank to the ground for only a moment and straightened up just in time to see Jogid’s tattoos fade.
“That was a good duel,” Shagal said, while dusting off dirt and dust off her black leather vest. “I wasn’t expecting that last fire-based spell. You used so much earth-IDM that it caught me off guard.”
Jogid inclined his head, accepting the compliment with a small smile. “Thank you, Shagal. Your prowess in battle is truly remarkable. It was an honor to spar with you.”
Shagal studied him for a moment, recalling the fleeting sensation she had felt during their clash. “One question. It was subtle, and I almost missed it, but the moment you converted your earth mana into fire mana, I felt a hint of time IDM. How did you manage that?”
“Ah…” Jogid’s expression shifted, as if caught off-guard, and he sat down beside her. “It is a long story, one that began with my confrontation with Vexlerion.”
Vexlerion? Shagal wondered for a moment. “The hell beast?” she leaned forward, intrigued. Jogid had faced a hell beast? How did he manage to survive? How? There are only a handful of heroes who can hold their own against a hell beast.
“In our battle, I found myself trapped within Vexlerion’s alternate reality, powerless against his malevolent magic, but through Master Kaito’s guidance and my own determination, I discovered a way to turn the tables. I managed to trap Vexlerion’s magic within my own pocket dimension, sealing it away from the world.”
Shagal’s breath caught in her throat. Creating a pocket dimension was an extraordinary feat, one that required immense skill and control over IDM. Shagal’s mind went through every possible way Jogid could have learned such a spell. If only a handful could face a hell beast and survive, even fewer could control alternate dimensions—Vexlerion being one of them.
“However,” Jogid continued, “I now face a new challenge. I cannot open a door to my dimension without risking unleashing that malice into the world. Master Kaito instructed me to cycle all of Vexlerion’s mana from the pocket dimension through my own body, to purify it and make it my own. But…”
Shagal nodded. Jogid managed to utter yet another unfathomable remark: cycling foreign mana was a delicate and dangerous process, one that could easily overwhelm the practitioner if not done with utmost care. No one in Daiyudura would dare try such a feat—that was for sure. However, for someone in Jogid’s unique position, he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t cycle the hell beast’s mana, it would eventually leak out and kill him.
“I have been following Master Kaito’s guidance, but the sheer volume of mana is staggering. I have only managed to cycle a fraction of it so far, and the process is arduous and draining.”
Shagal listened intently to Jogid’s story and his struggles with the hell beast’s mana, sensing the weight of his burden and the immense responsibility he carried. It spoke volumes of his strength of character, his perseverance, his resilience, his wisdom—no wonder he was Kaito’s first disciple.
“Jogid, may I examine the mana within your dimension? Perhaps I can offer some insight, or at least a fresh perspective.
“But—I can’t…”
“You don’t have to open this realm of yours. I can push my rage IDM through your core the same way you’re cycling Vexlerion’s mana.”
Jogid hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers. Then, with a slight nod, he extended his hand. “I would be grateful for your assistance. Please, be careful. The power within is...volatile.”
Shagal grasped his hand, her own tattoos flaring to life as she attuned herself to Jogid’s mana. She closed her eyes, focusing inward, and felt herself drawn into the depths of Jogid’s personal dimension, her rage mana pushing through, breaking through spiritual barriers. Unabated.
There it was. Formidable. Destructive. Almost…
Beautiful.
The sensation was unlike anything she had experienced before. Vexlerion’s mana swirled around her, a maelstrom of malevolent energy that threatened to overwhelm her senses. It was a primal, ancient power, steeped in the very essence of hell itself.
As Shagal delved deeper, she felt a presence within the chaos. An entity, almost sentient, that emanated from the darkest recesses of the infernal realms. It called to her, a siren song that resonated with the rage IDM coursing through her veins.
Entranced, Shagal found herself drawn towards the entity. It was a pull she could not resist, a primal urge that overrode all reason. She reached out, her consciousness stretching across the void, yearning to embrace the hellish spirit.
At that moment, the entity lashed out.
A blast of pure, unfiltered malice slammed into Shagal’s psyche, ripping her from the trance with a violent jolt. She gasped, her eyes flying open as she staggered back, Jogid’s hand on her back the only thing keeping her upright.
“Shagal! Are you alright?” Jogid’s concerned voice seemed to come from a great distance, muffled by the ringing in her ears.
Shagal shook her head, trying to clear the lingering echoes of the entity’s attack. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her heart pounding against her ribcage. “I...I don’t know,” she managed, her voice trembling. “That power...it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s not just mana. There’s something else in there, something...ancient and malevolent.”
Jogid’s features shuttered, a shadow passing over his face as they sat atop the lush green grass in the middle of the clearing. “That’s what I sense too,” he said softly. “Vexlerion’s power is not of this world. It comes from a place of pure evil, a realm beyond our understanding.”
“Can you truly tame such a force, Jogid? Can anyone?”
Jogid was silent for a long moment, his eyes distant.
“I must try, Shagal. Master Kaito said I could do it. I won’t let him down. But more importantly, this power will be useful for Calmo—Daiyudura, even.”
“Then I will help you tame it. However, I can.”
