Sublime

[Behold the souls of the ancient black dragons! You could inherit their power, the echoes of their continent-spanning might, and advance as quickly as any sacred beast dares. But if you inherit their memories and their titanic willpower, will you still be yourself? Or will you only be their vessel…]

He had expected a Sage. He had not expected vitality that almost matched a Herald, spiritual power that made his perception tremble, and the hunger…such hunger. If Relliar had been told that Lindon was the son of a Dreadgod, he would have believed it.

The Eldest was waiting for him in the forge, so he tossed the Ragnarus heart at the Nye. “Cast this into the void. Let it drift away from existence for all time.” He bowed, his sleeves folded together. “It shall be done.”

His black flames, his cleansing tide of pure madra, and his Dreadgod arm all harmonized with his will of destruction. The Void Icon sang, closer than ever.